Mark DuFrenze

Mark DuFrenze, known by some as "Frenzy", was a member of the the Office of Alliance Territorial Hegemony. Mark was born on the planet of Maverick on an unknown date in 2151 CE, to an unknown family. What is known about his history is that his home planet, Maverick, was raided by batarian slavers. The entire planet was taken but for a few who hid, and who escaped by taking transports. Mark joined the Alliance, when he gained the attention of the Office of Alliance Territorial Hegemony. He is a known assassin, and has a large kill count, composed of mostly humans.

Early Life
Born on the planet of Maverick, to an unknown couple, on an unknown date in 2151 CE, Mark DuFrenze was born after a heavy drug war on the planet. He went to school, and lived a normal life just after he turned twenty.

Batarian slavers found use for the planet, the fact that it was high in contents such as Red Sand, a biotic inducing drug. In order to mine, though, they had to get permission. The batarians aren't like that, and if they tried, it would be revoked. They captured all the humans in a small battle, as the colony was of only two towns and a city. Some hid, and escaped the batarians. After most had left, Mark had taken his rifle, and killed the batarian searching through his house.

He and a few others escaped on a batarian ship, and escaped. Mark became part of the Alliance, and began work on the Citadel.

The Alliance
"Sergeant Mark DeFrance has gained himself recognition by alone defeating an entire militia group on Virth, where he saved a lone surviving squad member. In other news, another Elcor movie has hit the box office at the top of the charts, as the Elcor re-creation of Tom Sawyer has sold a total of 12 billion credits on opening week."

- A newsreel on DuFrenze, improperly pronouncing his name.

Straight after he escaped, Mark joined the military, hoping for a tight-knit family type work. After going through basic training in the Citadel, which included anti-gravity, how to engage a krogan, and the live-fire exercises. After training, Mark was stationed to guard a crime scene in the Presidium, when he saw a criminal assaulting someone.

Mark, young and daring, left his post, and arrested the man. By the time he got back to his post, the evidence was gone. The CSIs were walking around, confused. They had no idea what to think. Someone had stolen the evidence.

After learning about the crime, Mark had learned there had been a murder, and the criminal had been almost killed. He had left behind a broken tooth, and Mark had been stationed there while the CSIs were en route. In the few minutes he had been gone, someone had stolen the tooth.

When he found out who on his own, he was almost promoted for saving a woman, but wasn't, due to the fact he left his post.

Another time, he was patrolling Chora's Den, watching for any causing public disturbance, when he heard gunshots. Upon investigating, he found a dead salarian in a VIP room and an asari with a gun. He was promoted for arresting the asari, and eventually found himself a sergeant.

In one of his last missions with the Alliance, he had to hunt down a crimelord. When he went to investigate, with a squad, the crimelord's last location, his team was ambushed. The source of the sighting had tricked them.

After engaging in a firefight with the gang members, they found that the crimelord was located in the lower levels. Upon visiting the lower levels, and investigating, a store owner was arrested. He had tried to run, and Mark had shown his skills, by taking his rifle, and with a single shot, wounding him, and disabling him. The store owner had been arrested, and he had told them about another person related, to lower his sentence.

In his final mission, Mark had been assigned the sharpshooter and reconnoiter for an op out of the Citadel. It was his fourth op out of the Citadel. He was on the tropical world of Virth, scouting a meeting between two militia groups.

A fireteam was ready to move on them, as they had been the confirmed criminals, when one had noticed the ship flying above. He engaged the other militia, and started to run. Before he could run, Mark put a shot into his leg, like he did on the Citadel, and shot the other militiamen before they could act.

He escaped, and met up with the fireteam. They had been engaged by the militia, who had turian special forces, led by an asari. The team was ambushed, and most were killed. Mark had ran, along with another member of the fireteam, and found himself where the militia had originally met. More militia, salarians this time, began engaging the others. It was a full on battle. Yet upon finding each other, each had failed to notice the two humans. The other member of the fireteam had been killed when a stray blast hit him, and Mark had escaped. Instead of heading for the evac, he saw that his surviving fireteam member was alive, but dying. He had shot each and every militiaman, with pinpoint accuracy, which earned him a few medals. The mission alone had made him famous. The Office of Alliance Territorial Hegemony was a black-ops organization who had recognized him, and wanted him for hire.

Office of Alliance Territorial Hegemony
"One shot, one kill."

- Mark, referencing one of the many ONAS taglines.

Back on the Citadel, Mark discretely met with a high-ranking OATH operative. Hiding in plain sight in the Presidium, they discussed Mark's future over coffee at a cafe. Mark was told he had proven himself as an excellent marksman, and was a candidate for OATH. He would be payed well if he did his job right.

On his first mission, he was on a desert planet, he was going to stop a suicide bomber Salarian.

Mark was perched on the rooftop of a Sirta Foundation distribution center, in a highly populated area. Intel had told him that the suicide bomber was a confused recruit of Eclipse. A salarian, with brown skin and purple side tones. Easy target. The hard part would be getting out, as the sniper Mark was given was not a suppressed sniper.

Mark waited on the building for a few hours, a spotter looking out for him, until, finally, the salarian was spotted.

Mark took aim, and waited until most civilians had been occupied by something else. The salarian was wearing a very bulky suit, obviously containing ordnance underneath. Mark would take him down, and let the EODs handle the rest. The salarian had sat down in the middle of a park, drinking water, nervously tapping his foot. The spotter gave him the go, and in one shot, the salarian was dead. The spotter said there would be an ex-filtration vehicle waiting for them on the other Sirta building. Mark used his rappel cord, and the two fast-roped to the other building, where they were picked up. The police got there and found nothing but footprints in the dust atop the building, cutting off suddenly.

Mission to Assassinate Kymir Jhoeli (Finale)
Mark knew what the stakes were. Somewhere in the galaxy, there was a rampaging madman who had killed dozens upon dozens of people, across all races. The OATH trusted him to be able to track and kill the Citadel Stalker, who had grown to become infamous throughout the civilized galaxy. There was absolutely no way he could let this monster to continue what he was doing. Mark had contacted the Shadow Broker for information on the Stalker's whereabouts.

. ..

Mark slowly approached the building on the high cliff face. He scanned Kahje's horizon, looking for the inspiration to begin firing on the building, which was the current safehouse of the savage killer he was hunting. He watched the beautiful sunset that was descending over the ocean surface, and he realized that there was as much natural beauty in the universe as there was corruption and hatred. He couldn't spend his entire life hunting the scum of the galaxy. He needed to stop and appreciate the wonder of life at some point. But before he could even think of retirement, of actually enjoying life, he had to do the universe a favor first.

He thought of the turian C-Sec officer he had met. The Citadel Stalker had tortured him in a warehouse for three months...barely providing enough sustenance for him to live. Every day, his wife and young son had to cling to the hope that Amon would come home. He could not disappoint those kind people. He had to bring the sadistic bastard to justice, to the punishment and retribution he deserved. "There are no clean getaways..."

From the stout rock he was using as cover, Mark opened fire on the building. The large window shattered into innumerable shards of glass. Kymir, safely out of the line of fire behind the wall, blind fired with a sub-machine gun. Several rounds struck Mark's left arm. All accuracy left him, and the remaining rounds in his clip were wasted, spraying wildly. When Kymir stopped firing to reload, Mark left his assault rifle behind the rock, pulled out his heavy pistol, and mantled over the rock, scrambling for new cover.

After reaching a hefty boulder to take refuge behind, Mark pulled the pin from an incendiary grenade and threw it straight through the broken window. The explosive soared on the winds of Kahje like a majestic bird, before landing within the building. Mark loaded his heavy pistol and charged toward the door like an enraged bull, slamming through it with the ferocity of a man who would not surrender even if he had lost all of his limbs. What Mark found inside the building would haunt him for the few minutes that made up the remainder of his lifespan.

There were three dead bodies inside of the building, civilian victims of the monster that had been living on this cliff. They had burnt to death... Mark was overwhelmed with a sea of grief, and dropped to his knees in the middle of the flames that hungered for more flesh to burn. In a brief moment of undistilled fury, Mark wrenched his helmet off of his head and threw it at the wall. Kymir had left them alive in the building on purpose. Mark had taken the lives of innocents. Mark knew that this went far beyond the call of duty now, and far beyond any promises he had made to a few turians, or his superiors in the OATH. Mark was not just going to kill this beast out of a sense of justice...this had become a personal vendetta.

Mark burst out of the small building with a newfound sense of purpose, and frantically observed the cliffside for any sign of where the beast had gone. But he was nowhere to be found. Mark stopped himself, regained his serenity he had possessed during his arrival, and began to saunter around. His last thoughts were to look up in case the beast was climbing up the mountain. Several feet above Mark was a ledge on the mountainside, from which Kymir was perched. As Mark looked up, a single round was fired from Kymir's sniper rifle at an almost exactly vertical 180 degree angle, sunk through Mark's armor like it was butter, and penetrated his heart.

Kymir leapt from his roost down to where Mark was slowly suffering, as with each painful beat of his brave heart, more poison was pumped from the toxin-soaked round through his blood vessels. Kymir, choosing to abandon the sense of mercy that nagged him in the back of his mind, pulled out a thin scalpel from his belt stocked with a set of custom wicked knives. Before Kymir rid him of his sight, the last face Mark would ever look into was the face of his killer, which, behind the eyes, seemed to merely have a never-ending void. He gently sliced around Mark's eye socket, and when he finished, Kymir plucked out Mark's eyeball and bit into it like one might bite a juicy fruit, with Mark watching in terror and horrific agony. Kymir did the same with the other eyeball, except this time he swallowed it whole. To finally put Mark out of his misery, Kymir put the scalpel back and pulled out a thick serrated dagger, which he used to saw through Mark's neck and spine.

Kymir gripped Mark's decapitated head by his short-cut black hair and stared into the empty sockets of his skull. Kymir felt as if the emptiness of his soul was being reflected back at him from the sockets. He strode over to the edge of the cliff, and cast Mark's head into the endless abyss. Kymir then turned and stared into the overbearing sun hanging above the ocean's edge. He, oddly enough, was moved by the beauty of the planet he was on, for a moment. Then he turned his eyes back to what was true beauty to him, the chasm below the cliff, the empty void. And the abyss stared back at him.