|
Post by Morgan Bryn on Jul 11, 2014 18:04:47 GMT -6
Morgan looked up from the files as the exterior doors slid open, admitting Bridges.
"I trust mint tea is to your liking," he said to her, heading right for the sink. "It is my favorite. I find the flavor to be somewhat calming."
Morgan shut down the files she was reviewing before he could see what they contained, finding something odd about preparing tea in a basin designed for medical use. She supposed it was one of the more sterile sinks on board, but it still struck her as off-putting regardless.
"I'm not familiar with it," she replied, never having been a huge fan of the beverage. It had always struck her as a waste of money. If she wanted to contaminate water with a bunch of leaves, she could do that for free. Why spend good money on expensive dead leaves when there were other perfectly good beverages out there to drink?
Regardless of her feelings on the subject, the Matriarch had taught her to accept such offerings, even if they weren't to her own liking. Her own tastes weren't the point in this case, and refusing a gesture of goodwill such as this was a political faux pas. Morgan hated the dance, but understood the necessity of it.
Bridges didn't speak while he busied himself preparing the tea. She appreciated him doing it in front of her at least. She really didn't feel like being poisoned today, and this left little room for doubt.
"When did you board the ship?" he asked finally, walking over to her with the steaming cups in hand. "I believe that would be the best place to begin our conversation."
"Depends on what conversation we're having," Morgan replied, politely accepting the cup. The steam carried the tea's scent upward. The warmth felt refreshing against her face, but the scent reminding her oddly of toothpaste. She idly wondered if it was the same ingredient.
"I boarded your ship while you were still docked at Cartegena Station," Morgan answered truthfully, not seeing the point in lying about that particular detail.
|
|
|
Post by Esteban Bridges on Jul 11, 2014 20:01:06 GMT -6
"When did you board the ship?" Esteban broke the silence to ask the young lady, handing to her one of the saucers. "I believe that would be the best place to begin our conversation."
"Depends on what conversation we're having," she replied pleasantly, accepting the cup. She held the cup close to her nose, smelling the aroma while Esteban observed her. He took his cup by the handle and sipped while he sat down by her. "I boarded your ship while you were still docked at Cartegena Station."
Esteban savored the minty liquid as its flavor covered his tongue, spreading throughout his mouth. He smiled, lowering the cup back down onto the saucer. It made a satisfying clink as he swallowed, reflecting on Morgan's words... pondering what to ask next. It wasn't his concern why she was on Cartengena, though it might be important as to why she ended up on the ship. He stared at her for a moment, studying her. His eyes shifting back and forth to read her expression.
"Cartegena Station," he repeated Morgan's words in his same casual tone, spotting the comely Drell out of the corner of his eye. She held a data pad in her hand, her eyes locked on whatever secrets the thin device held. Though the Drell wasn't on his mind. It was Morgan's statement. His eyes shifted down to the cup in her hands. It was then that something hit him.
"Oh, my apologies," he quickly sputtered out, setting his cup and saucer down on down on a table. "I did not offer you sugar or honey for your tea. Quite rude of me. Would you care for some?"
It was important, in every business deal, to position yourself into a certain role immediately. For Esteban, he preferred the role of gracious host. Some saw it as a position of weakness. He saw it as a way to measure up your opponent without them realizing it. Like right now, Morgan declined any sweeteners for her drink. She seemed to know all the proper courtesies, though seemed unpracticed with it. That told Esteban she was most likely been trained by someone of refinement in the past, but her activities do not give her a chance to practice it. He rose up, taking a glance over toward Iskra sitting, still reading her data pad.
"Iskra," he addressed her to get her attention. "Would you care for some tea?"
Much to his pleasure, she accepted. Just as he did with Morgan, he took his spoon and scooped out some tea leaves and poured them into an empty cup he removed from his tea set. He took a look over at Morgan while he poured hot water into the cup. "The one who spotted you. I'm not certain what his real name is, but he came highly recommended. He goes by the handle Maelstrom." Esteban scooped up a small mound of pure white sugar and poured it into his cup. He loved the slight crackling sound the sand-like crystals made when it hit the liquid. He smiled before continuing to explain what happened to Morgan. "He's been high strung ever since Murchadh, he pilots the mech, uncovered a spy serving on the ship's support staff. I am not sure what happened to him, but the spy belonged to some organization that he crossed paths with before." He frowned, lifting up Iskra's cup and saucer, as well as the bowl of sugar before walking towards where the Drell doctor was seated. "Ever since then, he's been far less tolerant of strangers."
Esteban set the items down on Iskra's desk, nodding slightly.. then heading back to his cup. "I am quite curious why you choose this ship to board," he continued on, taking hold of his cup and saucer again. He headed back for where he sat and settled there once again. "There had to be easier targets to consider."
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Jul 11, 2014 20:33:31 GMT -6
"Not bad, not bad at all," Fischer said, just as Maelstrom was about to ask the computer for three opponents. "By the way, did you get the boss' message about Artacus?"
Maelstrom turned his attention to the relatively new mercenary. He still had not made up his mind about Fischer, but any familiar faces who weren't turian happened to be on his good side today. Maelstrom nodded, as he took a moment to catch his breath.
"Still toying around with whether or not to leave an insurance policy on the station with Artacus... something to make sure we don't end up with trouble in the future. Have a feeling Bridges wouldn't like that too much, though."
|
|
|
Post by Morgan Bryn on Jul 12, 2014 2:01:40 GMT -6
"The one who spotted you," Bridges continued while making Iskra's tea. "I'm not certain what his real name is, but he came highly recommended. He goes by the handle Maelstrom."
Morgan listened in silence, taking a tentative sip of her tea, not sure where Bridges was going with this line of conversation.
"He's been high strung ever since Murchadh, he pilots the mech, uncovered a spy serving on the ship's support staff. I am not sure what happened to him, but the spy belonged to some organization that he crossed paths with before. Ever since then, he's been far less tolerant of strangers."
"Cerberus," Morgan stated dryly, recalling the man had mentioned the name when he'd had her at gun point. "I assure you, Bridges, I'm neither a spy nor a Cerberus agent."
He delivered the tea to Iskra before returning to Morgan. "I am quite curious why you choose this ship to board," he continued. "There had to be easier targets to consider."
"Easier, maybe." She shrugged a bit. "But no other human-registered vessels were leaving at a... convenient time." There was a flicker of something that crossed his face before Morgan elaborated. "You might say I overstayed my welcome on board Cartegena. I made a judgement call. Tried to pick the ship I thought would get me back to Citadel space as quickly as possible. Obviously... I was wrong."
|
|
|
Post by Joe Fischer on Jul 12, 2014 9:59:01 GMT -6
Joe cocked an eyebrow at Maelstrom's suggestion of killing Artacus. Jeez, this guy is almost wound as tight, he thought. At least he's able to take a joke.
"I wouldn't worry about him," he replied. "He'll probably take two steps into the station before he starts cleaning it. That should keep him busy for the next fifty years or so."
He shook his head as he considered the early dismissal of the turian. "It's a shame, really," he continued. "It's not every day you meet someone who can take down a pair of krogan in hand-to-hand combat in less than five seconds and not get a scratch on him. But then again, there's more to a good team than just having good fighters."
He smiled. "Reminds me of an old joke: How do you know when a turian runs out of ammo?"
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Jul 12, 2014 12:27:17 GMT -6
Maelstrom smirked about the comment of Artacus being stuck cleaning the station for the next fifty years. It made him think that they should accidentally discharge their septic system into the stations' public transit area... just finish out the turian's lifespan. He quickly dismissed the idea.
"It's a shame, really," Fischer said. "It's not every day you meet someone who can take down a pair of krogan in hand-to-hand combat in less than five seconds and not get a scratch on him. But then again, there's more to a good team than just having good fighters."
"You wouldn't have wanted him around if you had been on Barce with us. This wasn't the first time he put his interests above the team," Maelstrom growled.
Undaunted, Fischer said, "Reminds me of an old joke: How do you know when a turian runs out of ammo?"
"He switches to the stick up his ass as a backup weapon," Maelstrom answered by rote. He laughed. "Please, they teach that the first day of boot camp."
|
|
|
Post by Joe Fischer on Jul 12, 2014 21:31:01 GMT -6
Joe grinned at Maelstrom as the biotic replied with the punchline to the joke. "Former Alliance, I knew there was a reason I liked you," he said.
He wanted to push further, find out more about him. Judging by the anger in his voice as he spoke about Artacus, this was a man who clearly valued loyalty. But he also sensed that the man did not give his trust lightly, and no amount of words would get him to lower his defenses; that would only come through actions.
I'm sure the Collectors will give us plenty of opportunities, he thought.
"I'm going to get ready to escort Artacus off the ship," he said. "See you at the airlock, Mel."
|
|
|
Post by Esteban Bridges on Jul 13, 2014 1:45:45 GMT -6
"Cerberus," Morgan quickly said, her tone showing she was recalling something from her exchange with Maelstrom. "I assure you, Bridges, I'm neither a spy nor a Cerberus agent."
Esteban showed nothing on his face or expression, taking a sip from his cup. He wanted to be suspicious that Morgan knew the name of the group that Maelstrom said was after him, but Maelstrom included the word Cerberus into almost every sentence he spoke. He imagined Maelstrom probably muttered it in his sleep. Esteban swallowed the tea before continuing on. "I am quite curious why you choose this ship to board," he continued. "There had to be easier targets to consider."
"Easier, maybe." She shrugged a bit. "But no other human-registered vessels were leaving at a... convenient time."
The edges of his lips twitched very slightly before he could stop himself. She was deliberately hiding something. He was rather enjoying the role of polite host. He decided to wait patiently to see if she added anything. "You might say I overstayed my welcome on board Cartegena. I made a judgement call. Tried to pick the ship I thought would get me back to Citadel space as quickly as possible. Obviously... I was wrong."
Esteban set his elbows on the armrest and leaned back, slouching slightly. He reflected on what she just said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He wasn't sure entirely what to make of what she said. It sounded all true. Though there was a few things that did not quite make sense to him. One thing was obvious to him. She was no spy.
"We aren't returning to Citadel space for the next two weeks," Esteban said, uncertain how reassuring that would be. "But we will be returning there. I can promise that."
He watched her for a moment, not certain of what he was looking for. But there was something there, hidden beneath the surface. She faced down Maelstorm and did not freeze or crack. In fact, she was able to remember something he said and had the presence of mind to put the missing piece into what Esteban said. Plus, she possessed considerable talent with electronics. Yet, she carried herself in a very understated way, hiding her talents.
"So if I am understanding what you said," he said, wanting to be careful not to tip his hand yet. "You were not targeting this ship in particular. All you wanted to do was find a way to return to Citadel space because it was in your best interests to leave Cartegena Station as quickly as you could."
[response, if any]
"I believe you," he confessed, giving the young woman a smile. He was curious what she would do with what he was about to say. "Though I am uncertain what to do next. This ship will be only making one final stop at a near derilict refueling station to drop off a very dangerous Turian. It would seem cruel to ask you to leave. The Turian is fairly violent and unstable. You would be with him for over a week, at the least. But if you were to stay on the Valiant, you cannot do it as a stowaway. I trust you understand what I am saying."
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Jul 14, 2014 10:11:52 GMT -6
Maelstrom, having had his rhythm disrupted by Fischer's conversation, decided to make his way over to the table. He needed a brief break regardless, and the friendly conversation just a moment ago was exactly what it took to break his stubborn drive to keep besting himself. He noticed Meldom and Lysander sitting at the table, two of the people he most wanted to talk to about his idea, as well as the krogan, with whom he was mostly unfamiliar.
He was not really in the mood to take a seat after his sparring matches, but he knew it would be rude just to stand over everyone and say his piece. Instead, he turned around the nearest chair, seating himself so his chest was laying against the backrest. No one seemed to be saying anything, so he started right in.
"So, I've been thinking, last time we got into a fight with the Collectors, we almost got royally screwed by that Praetorian thing," Maelstrom said. "Now we're going to a base, where there's all but sure to be more of the bastards. I figure it might be good to have something a little more substantial this time than hope that a biotic girl frying her implant can handle it."
Getting on to his point, Maelstrom said, "I've got some explosives on the Vengeance, and a number of kinetic detonators. I was thinking that if we put our heads together, we might be able to come up with something that has a little more of a punch than what we were throwing at it last time. I can act as a launcher, and I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard to cobble together a simple mechanism for the members of our team that aren't biotics."
"Thoughts?"
|
|
|
Post by Eric Lysander on Jul 14, 2014 15:52:43 GMT -6
Eric removed his chicken sandwich from the microwave and sat down to eat. Maelstrom then entered the kitchen, took a spare seat and turned it back to front before sitting down in it. He brought up the team’s battle with the Praetorian and how more were likely to be found at the Collector base. Eric wondered how his young partner was doing at that moment, if her operation was successful and did not sacrifice her powers, if she was out on another job. If she ever thought back on the group that was her first solo mission. Maelstrom outlined his plan. "I've got some explosives on the Vengeance, and a number of kinetic detonators. I was thinking that if we put our heads together, we might be able to come up with something that has a little more of a punch than what we were throwing at it last time. I can act as a launcher, and I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard to cobble together a simple mechanism for the members of our team that aren't biotics. Thoughts?"
Eric set down his sandwich and wiped his mouth.
“Funny you should mention that. I just finished tweaking six little devices that might do the job. Right now they only selectively vibrate a target to pieces. For an instant kill, to shatter that thing’s hide… I can overclock the emitters. It’ll make ‘em into sonic knives but their cores’ll burn out a lot quicker. I can spare three spikes, jerry rig ‘em into a type o’ two stage anti-tank spear and load ‘em with your explosives. The Praetorian’s soft enough on the inside. You can arm the spears and fling ‘em biotically or launch ‘em from an assault rifle – need a slight mod to the rail coils to account for the weight. Once they penetrate and overload, the detonation is forced out via the collapsing mass effect field right inta the thing’s guts. If that first hit doesn’t get it there’ll be a nice, big hole ready ‘n waitin’ for a kill shot.”
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Jul 14, 2014 16:30:59 GMT -6
"If that first hit doesn’t get it there’ll be a nice, big hole ready ‘n waitin’ for a kill shot,” Lysander replied.
Maelstrom smiled at the suggestion. "And one of my grenades could certainly finish it off after a soft-spot has been made. Whenever you're ready, we can cobble the things together."
He also smiled as he thought of something else Lysander said. "Spear." While a true spear would be too large and unwieldy, a smaller projectile, like a throwing knife, could serve much the same purpose when propelled at ballistic velocities by his biotics. His ship's fabricator would be more than capable of designing a handful of those weapons. A cheap, lightweight reusable instrument capable of silently dealing instant kills.
"So, any thoughts about this mission? We haven't exactly had a lot of time to talk about it," Maelstrom asked.
|
|
|
Post by Eric Lysander on Jul 15, 2014 9:18:06 GMT -6
"So, any thoughts about this mission? We haven't exactly had a lot of time to talk about it…" Eric took another bite of his sandwich. “Too many unknowns, too many ‘ifs…’” He swallowed and added “And more distractions than we can afford right now,” in reference to the intruder Maelstrom discovered and Aratacus’ failed attempt to apprehend Eric on fictitious charges.
“And even if we manage to get intel on base structure, troop deployment and waypoints there’s still the prisoners. It’s one thing to secure a dig site. Shootin’ your way outta hell with panicked and traumatized civvies in tow… that can really throw off someone’s game. If we can’t manage them they could get us all killed. I mean who knows what the Collectors’ve been doin to them? One of them could pose a threat to everybody and not even know it!”
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Jul 15, 2014 10:10:55 GMT -6
"One of them could pose a threat to everybody and not even know it!” Lysander said.
It was a fair point. Maelstrom knew that Cerberus' attempts to control his mind came close enough to succeeding. Who knew what other means the Collectors might have had.
"Well," Maelstrom said, hating what he was about to say, "I think we need to be prepared not to save everyone. If someone slows us down too much, we need to be ready to leave them behind, for the sake of the others."
|
|
|
Post by Weyrloc Karn on Jul 15, 2014 13:17:42 GMT -6
The small thuds of a heavier creature plant their ways over towards the kitchen, towards were Lysander and Maelstrom sat, discussing their ideas and plans for the upcoming massacre. Karn steps up into the area, a rag in one hand, his dirtied hammer in the other. Given how much he's already prepared, not much was really going to happen for him at the time. But, with a lack of topics in mind and people to bug, the hulking creature finds himself wandering to the pair.
"So, whats the madness you two makin' up this time?", his voice booms lowly, himself smirking somewhat.
|
|
|
Post by Eric Lysander on Jul 15, 2014 14:59:33 GMT -6
Karn’s heavy footsteps echoed into the kitchen. “So, whats the madness you two makin' up this time?" “Just workin’ out how to take down some Big Bads, big man,” replied Eric. “Praetorians to be exact. Ever go up against one?” The former N7 looked over the krogan’s hammer. “That might dent one with enough whacks… if you can get ‘em to stay in one place, that is. Also takin’ the temperature on this mission. Seein’ where everyone stands as far as our objectives: savin’ any prisoners we find and getting’ enough intel on Udina’s workin’ with th’ Collectors to bury ‘im for good.”
|
|
|
Post by Weyrloc Karn on Jul 15, 2014 15:52:35 GMT -6
“Praetorians to be exact. Ever go up against one?” The former N7 spoke.
Karn quirks a brow, his rag roughly scrubbing against the hammers metal. "Hm.. Praetorian.. Never heard of one, never saw one. S'gonna' be a first time, eh?", he chuckles out. "To be honest, don't know enough about these 'collectors' you're all on about.. Thought I'd need a refresher on it, eh?" Karn shuffles the rag away soon after, before patting his gauntlet against the metal hammer.
|
|
|
Post by Morgan Bryn on Jul 15, 2014 17:46:48 GMT -6
"So if I am understanding what you said," Bridges began. "You were not targeting this ship in particular. All you wanted to do was find a way to return to Citadel space because it was in your best interests to leave Cartegena Station as quickly as you could."
Morgan met his gaze calmly. "That about sums it up, yes."
"I believe you," he confessed, though she was honestly not sure she actually believed he truly did. "Though I am uncertain what to do next. This ship will be only making one final stop at a near derelict refueling station to drop off a very dangerous Turian. It would seem cruel to ask you to leave. The Turian is fairly violent and unstable. You would be with him for over a week, at the least. But if you were to stay on the Valiant, you cannot do it as a stowaway. I trust you understand what I am saying."
She regarded him for a moment in silence before breathing out a sigh. "So either I'm dumped off on a derelict platform with a violent individual and no way off until you come back for, presumably, whichever one of us out-lives the other... or I spend the rest of the two weeks in the Valiant's brig, where I can't hurt anyone or get into any... trouble." She let the statement hang in the air for a moment. Honestly, she'd expected as much. The Drell seemed to trust her, but that didn't mean the rest of the crew had any reason to let her run around unchecked. She had no idea what their mission was, but two additional weeks this far out? She wasn't sure she wanted to know. "I'd rather take the second option, if you don't mind. Sounds safer."
|
|
|
Post by Esteban Bridges on Jul 15, 2014 23:29:14 GMT -6
"So either I'm dumped off on a derelict platform with a violent individual and no way off until you come back for, presumably, whichever one of us out-lives the other... or I spend the rest of the two weeks in the Valiant's brig, where I can't hurt anyone or get into any... trouble." Esteban said nothing, studying the young woman carefully. He was pretty sure she knew the Valiant didn't have a brig. If he were her, he would have learned as much about the layout of the ship as he could. He figured it was a test of some sort. "I'd rather take the second option, if you don't mind. Sounds safer."
He blinked slowly, not certain if she was attempting to make a joke or if she was being serious. "The Valiant does not have a brig," he started out, measuring his words. He locked his dark eyes on hers. "Nor was I threatening you, Morgan. I assumed you would attempt to radio a distress beacon to get picked up by a passing freighter. One must go by every few days."
A slight pulse of light flashed from his wrist, alerting him that a message came in for him. It could only come from one of the crew. He half-smiled, wondering if it was what he hoped it was. "No. My dilemma was a bit more mundane. If you decide to stay on the Valiant, you need to earn your keep. And I am not sure.... "
Another pulse of light flashed from his wrist, forcing him to stop mid-sentence. The message was labeled important, he realized. But it would be rude for him to just stop. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "... if you will pardon me for a moment. "
Esteban tapped his wrist, shaking his head. A delineated spray of fiery neon orange consumed his forearm. He quickly took the information in. His face took on a deep inquisitive look, like he was having an internal debate. He held that look for a few seconds before he glanced up at the young woman. "One of the mercenaries I hired sent me something they consider to be rather important. It is the video file that shows Eric Lysander executing someone fairly important. Eric is the operational commander for this mission. He is claiming his innocence."
His eyes narrowed as he tapped a few buttons on the omnitool to dim the neon lights. If he was right, Morgan was an expert at electronics and hacking. It was the only way he could conceive of anyone fooling the Valiant's internal sensors for all those days. He took another look at the young woman, wondering if he was right.
"You need to think about what you want to do," he said to her, waving his glowing hand over a nearby screen to transfer some data over. "If you want to stay on the ship, it would have to be as a member of my team. And I need to see what you can do."
He tapped his wrist, extinguishing the light on his arm just as the video of a human standing behind a Turian played on the screen. It was in some sort of office. The human drew a pistol, shooting the Turian in the back of his head... killing it instantly. "I need you to prove that video was faked. If you can, we can negotiate your fee. Is this acceptable?"
|
|
|
Post by Morgan Bryn on Jul 16, 2014 0:40:05 GMT -6
Bridges seemed taken aback for a long moment as he regarded her in silence. Finally he spoke. "The Valiant does not have a brig. Nor was I threatening you, Morgan. I assumed you would attempt to radio a distress beacon to get picked up by a passing freighter. One must go by every few days."
She frowned at him, trying to decide if he were joking. What kind of ship with this many mercs on board didn't have a holding cell, stasis field, or cryo pod of some sort to put their potential quarry in? Before she could question him further, he started speaking once more.
"No. My dilemma was a bit more mundane. If you decide to stay on the Valiant, you need to earn your keep. And I am not sure..." He paused, glancing down at his wrist, seemingly frustrated at whatever message was waiting for him. "...if you will pardon me for a moment."
Morgan looked away, giving the man some privacy. Her eyes strayed to the room where Iskra had vanished, catching sight of the Drell quietly reading at her desk from a datapad. Her only movements were to take the occasional sip of tea or to pat the nearby Varren's head as he nuzzled into her lap. Morgan took a strange sort of comfort in the fact that the woman was so calm, taking it to mean there was no imminent danger or potential for crisis. Her eyes returned to Bridges as he spoke up again, finished with whatever he was viewing on his omni-tool.
"One of the mercenaries I hired sent me something they consider to be rather important," he began, apparently feeling the need to explain what he was doing to her for some reason. "It is the video file that shows Eric Lysander executing someone fairly important."
Morgan regarded him blandly. "Am I supposed to know who that is?"
"Eric is the operational commander for this mission. He is claiming his innocence," he explained, taking a moment to collect himself. "You need to think about what you want to do. If you want to stay on the ship, it would have to be as a member of my team. And I need to see what you can do."
Morgan's eyes narrowed, starting to get the feeling she was going to be blackmailed into helping this group whether she liked it or not. Bridges brought up the video he had been sent, playing a few seconds for her, but the scene honestly meant nothing to her. It was brutal, but she didn't recognize the Turian being gunned down. Bridges spoke as she watched, his words surprising her.
"I need you to prove that video was faked. If you can, we can negotiate your fee. Is this acceptable?"
Her eyes slowly moved from the video back to the man in front of her, sizing him up. The offer of pay both intrigued her and made her suspicious all at once. "Two questions first," she stated simply. "One, what makes you think that's something I can even do? And two, what is your mission, exactly? I already have an employer and I don't blindly help just anyone, regardless of pay. Obviously, I understand the need for secrecy, but I'm going to need some sort of... reassurance before I join your little team."
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on Jul 16, 2014 1:04:25 GMT -6
"Thought I'd need a refresher on it, eh?" Karn said.
Maelstrom was surprised that even a krogan would not avail himself of the database on the ship, before wondering if Bridges had chosen for some reason not to extend access to the newcomer. Or maybe just did not think that a krogan would care to know whose skull he was bashing in. Maelstrom knew from experience that most Krogan who would be recommended by someone like the Broker were intelligent enough to get to know their enemies before charging straight in anyway.
"Know what ants are? How about bees? Angry, vengeful insects that operate in a swarm mentality. Superiority in numbers. Except these are two meters tall and have guns, grenades, and biotics instead of just pincers and stingers. Oh, and the equivalent of flying tanks. And cruisers that could take out most dreadnoughts. We're getting ready to go steal what they've worked for and kick their hive," Maelstrom said. "That's the short version. If you need to know more, I'll send you send you a data packet."
|
|