Onboard the super-station of Omega, a meeting is underway. A group of Red Dawn mercenaries are in a convention in an old warehouse with Death Dogs criminals discussing territory, money, and a possible criminal relationship. The leader of the Red Dawn, Sheram Kurinus, holds a Piranha in one hand and a briefcase in the other. "There's a lot of things that can go down here depending on what you came here to say," says Sheram.
"I came here to talk about a possible future between the two of us," replies Oslo Pariah, leader of the Death Dogs.
"A future? Before we get into all of that, let's talk about how you and your boys seem to wanna push Blood Grass in my districts," replies Sherum somewhat irritably.
"We could always split those districts down the middle and make profit off of the same addicts," says Oslo.
"Or you can back off and stick to your own streets," replies Sherum angrily.
"You turians, so proud yet stupid. I'm offering you a peaceful relationship; you don't want to turn away from that," says Oslo.
"No, fuck that! I can already see that there's nothing to talk about," yells Sherum.
"I'm beginning to see the same thing," replies Oslo just before him and his men raise their high-powered rifles at Sherum's forces.
"You humans are all the same; you spread through the galaxy like a plague and try to take what's not yours," says Sherum, certain that his last moments were winding down.
"That's exactly what I think," says an unknown voice. From out of the darkness of an Omega alleyway, a batarian clad in full body armor appears. One of his gauntlets and much of the armor's harness has been scarred and scorched from gunfire while half of his face has a characteristic scar which stretches down the two eyes on the left side of his face. He's incredibly well-armed, though all of his weapons are holstered. He strides from the darkness with a very confident yet laid-back demeanor and his face has an expression that seems to be a combination of a smirk and a sneer.
"Who the hell are you," says Sherum.
"I go by the name of Miko, but you can call me friend," says the batarian.
"So, you brought back-up," says Oslo to Sherum.
"No, I came here on my own accord," replies Miko.
"What do you want," asks Oslo.
"Not much, just some... volunteers," replies Miko with a smirk. More heavily-armed batarians appear from what seems like out of nowhere with their high-powered weapons aimed at both Death Dogs and Red Dawn mercenaries. As the batarians pour in from the darkness, both Oslo and Sherum become a lot less talkative. As the influx of armed batarians stops, it's obvious to the Red Dawn and the Death Dogs that they are outnumbered. "Now, who here wants to come and work for me," shouts Miko as if he were a carnival ring leader.
"No! I'll never lay down and work for the likes of you," shouts Sherum angrily. "I'd rather die!"
"Fine," says Miko calmly before blowing a hole through Sherum's plated face with a custom M-9 Thunderbolt. As Sherum's bloodied body hits the ground like a rag doll, Miko raises his smoking pistol. "Anyone else wanna be proud, because I have a lot more bullets."
"I'm not stupid like Sherum. Me and my men will gladly work for you," says Oslo with a smug yet scared look on his face.
"Sorry, there's no place for humans in my organization," says Miko before turning the gun on Oslo and firing a perfect slug through the human's forehead. Miko looks around the dimly-lit warehouse. "All of you work for me now, understand," says Miko. He turns to walk away but just before he leaves, he gives one of his lieutenants an order: "Execute the humans."
Months later, a human makes his way into an Omega bar. He seemed to be an obvious newcomer which instantly caught the eye of many in the bar. "What'll ya have," asks Meeks, the bartender. "Just get me a glass of Rincol," replies the human.
"Rincol?! That stuff will shred your insides," replies Meeks in shock.
"Just get me my drink," says the human.
"Alright, but if you start to vomit and convulse on the ground, don't be surprised if I have my bouncer throw you in a gutter," says Meeks with a smile.
As Meeks pours the Rincol into a glass, two turians and a batarian approach the human. The two turians are armed with large daggers, though they are holstered. The batarian has a Thunderbolt pistol holstered on his hip, his hand resting on the gun as if trying to intimidate. "Hey, human," says the batarian. "What are doing here." The human remained quiet with an obvious agitated expression growing on his face. "Hey, we asked a question primate," shouts one of the turians. In an instant, the human slams the turians face into the bar counter and punches in the batarians face. The other turian pulls out his dagger but the human snaps his arm and slams the turian's own dagger into chest. Meeks finishes pouring the glass and pushes it across the counter toward the human a little. The human picks up the surviving but very injured turian and puts his head on the counter. "I want answers," says the human.
"Answers?! What are you talking about," replies the turian, struggling with the human's hand on his throat.
"You and your boys, I noticed you when I first came in here, especially those tattoos on the side of your faces. News of a band of pirates with the same tattoo has been spread pretty far," says the human.
"I don't know what your talking about," says the turian. The human squeezes on his throat and picks up the glass of Rincol.
"This is a mean drink; sickening for me but... deadly for you," says the human. The human gets ready to pour the drink down the turians throat when he struggles to say something.
"Wait! It's not my fault! He made me do it," shouts the turian.
"Pinning the blame on one of your freshly-killed friends isn't your strongest defense right now," says the human.
"No, not them... Miko," whispers the turian. Meeks, who over-hears, stumbles a bit.
"Miko doesn't exist," says the human. Many others over-hear now and the entire bar seems to stop. That alone is a revelation to the human that Miko is someone of far greater influence than the urban myth let's on. "So, why does Miko want you hijacking a bunch of civilian yachts in the Skyllian Verge," asks the human.
"Mostly just as a warning to humans but he's taking anything he can from the ships; credits, guns, anything," replies the turian.
"Where can I find him," says the human.
"I don't know. He moves from place to place so fast, we just get our orders through comms systems," replies the turian.
"Then you're worthless to me," says the human as he prepares to shove the glass down the turian's throat.
"Wait, I know someone who might know where Miko is," shouts the turian. "A krogan by the name of Ajax operates out of Illium. He has direct contact with Miko, if anyone knows where to find him, it's that krogan," whimpers the turian.
"Hm, alright I'll look into that," says the human. He picks up the turian and binds him in handcuffs.
"What the hell, your a cop," shouts the turian.
"Nope, im a bounty hunter," replies the human.
"What?! You're a bounty hunter," shouts the turian, Meeks, and nearly everyone at the bar.
"Easy, I'm not here for anyone else," says the human. He picks up the Rincol and downs the entire glass in a single gulp.
"Whoa, hey human, who are you," asks Meeks.
"Jet," replies the human as he makes his way from the bar with the incarcerated turian.