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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 11, 2017 9:15:02 GMT -6
"I think he may have passed that along to me."
"No, my race has a history of advancing before it's ready," Maelstrom said. "We implemented internal combustion engines before we considered the non-renewable nature of the resources or understood the environmental impact, we utilized atomic weaponry before understanding the lasting effects of such large-scale detonations, and our first foray into the realm of electricity involved a man flying a kite during a lightning storm." He paused, "Sometimes, I think we have something to learn from the elcor about patience.
"And about rambling, I have my moments too."
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Post by Urdnot Thrak on Mar 11, 2017 9:18:06 GMT -6
"Or maybe you're trying to take me out before the fight so you can hog all the fun and glory for yourself?"
"Not a bad idea, kid," the krogan said, as though considering it. "Still, I don't think I'd fit into those asari nightgowns you humans are strolling through the base in." He grabbed one of the larger, heavier suits and threw it to the human. "Still think it needs to be pink."
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Post by Eric Lysander on Mar 11, 2017 19:03:10 GMT -6
Several hours later, a plan of attack mostly laid out, the new group of mercenaries were on board the Cerberus freighter bound for the Omega-4 relay. Thomas Torrez was the pilot once more as he had been for all the previous missions Eric Lysander had embarked on though if it were up to Torrez, he may have preferred a more maneuverable vessel. The freighter’s captain, a man named Benjamin Braxton, was kept over from the original Cerberus crew. Eric was concerned that despite the sizable bribe he received, Braxton might betray the team and the mission to save his own skin. Looking about for the captain on the bridge, he found him tending to a console looking somewhat unnerved. The senior N7 smiled inwardly and proceeded with his tour of the vessel. No doubt Braxton had met up with the man in Collector armor. A man whose resume included a string of Cerberus bases reduced to craters by thermonuclear device.
Eric met briefly with some other key crewmembers including the chief engineer Rayel’Ban vas QuibQuib. Again the Man in Silver had to suppress himself; the engineer’s name unfortunately was ripe for ridicule in his slightly demented imagination. Bad enough that he wondered if Rayel’s parents stuttered or if he was born in a cave to account for the repetition in the last name but his first name very closely resembled a popular brand of human eyewear. Eric attributed his coughing and sputtering to ambient dust. Rayel insisted the engine room was clean; it had to be in order for the drive core to perform at peak efficiency. Before they parted they agreed to meet again later on to go over the drive schematics to see if it was possible to carry out the demolition expert’s idea of incorporating ordnance into the superstructure.
To Eric’s surprise the asari twins Anelya and Enaya Cysendra had signed on for the mission as well. He asked Enaya if they were not happy with being acolytes for the Consort back on the Citadel. She explained that the Shadow Broker had contacted them as well since they were part of Eric’s last mission. They were not obligated to accept although the amount of credits offered was considerable. But when they learned their friend Maelstrom was involved with this new mission, the choice was obvious. As before, they would make themselves available to any of the crew if there were certain… needs… to be fulfilled. No question in Eric’s mind who was in front of that line.
Lysander finally arrived at the ship’s locker room where Arcus, Joe Fischer and Thrak had already begun stowing their gear and looking over the stocked armor that would later become their disguises when the Cerberus shipyard was within range. He found a locker containing some armor that would just about fit him and began unpacking. He paused a second as he overheard a familiar piece of human music. He spied the turian mercenary humming along to it as he examined and sharpened a formidable looking blade. Eric’s brow shrugged; even a battle hardened turian can be nursing a soft spot, he reasoned. Eric continued with checking over his own gear as he grew conscious of the banter between his young counterpart and the krogan, each likely trying to outdo the other in tales of bravado. He finished looking over a case of heat sinks, sealed it and placed it on the floor of his locker. It suddenly tipped to one side due to the uneven weight, startling him. He went to readjust the loose panel when he noticed something hidden underneath. Eric removed all the items atop the panel before lifting it away. In the compartment lay a stack of magazines.
Several issues of Fornax. The cover on the top issue was of an asari splayed out in a position that made it very clear what her intent was.
"… I don't care what anyone else says, Thrak, but I think you can fit into that…"
Holy crap, I hadda pick th’ locker for the ship’s horndog, sighed the elder N7. He gently rifled through the stack of covers and species. There were over a dozen magazines at least.
“… It's how I got my hammer…"
Eric slapped the issues back in place. Why pore over sordid holopics when there was the possibility of availing himself to the real thing aboard ship? If only he were so lucky…
“…other than a spray of lead!"
He shook his head violently, remembering that he still had to finish with his own gear and disguise. He took up the floor panel and hesitated. He moved aside the asari issues for a possible discreet admiring later on.
"…This is good, but it's what you got in your head that counts…”
Eric huffed and cringed in discomfort as he sealed up the panel and worked through getting everything in place inside the locker before sealing the door.
"…Might as well be naked…"
Tell me about it, the N7 opined. He then looked over his Cerberus armor. It certainly enjoyed some advantages over standard armor. But it still could not hold a candle to the silver Kestrel armor that had saved him so many countless times. As he mused over how and where to tweak the armor to suit his needs he momentarily looked back to the base of his locker.
“…so you can hog all the fun and glory for yourself?"
Okay-okay! I’ll split it with Joe after th’ mission…!
Eric decided to get back to getting to know his team better, figuring that would put him in a better frame of mind to start modding his new armor. He stood up tall and sauntered over to Joe and Thrak.
"Still think it needs to be pink," Thrak had commented to the human about the heavy armor he held up.
Eric held out his hands, framing Joe between his forefingers and thumbs. “Nahh… Joe strikes me as more th’ fuschia type…”
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 11, 2017 20:06:19 GMT -6
"Fuschia?" Joe said. "FUSCHIA?!"
He glared at Lysander.
"All our time together, and you still don't know which color is me?!" he said. "Obviously I'm a cyan, jeez!"
He looked over at Thrak.
"See what I'm dealing with?" he said. "When he's not forgetting his pants, he's pointing his weapon in the wrong direction--and now this."
He rolled his eyes melodramatically.
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Post by Urdnot Thrak on Mar 11, 2017 21:22:18 GMT -6
"See what I'm dealing with?" Fischer said, in reaction to the new human's comments. "When he's not forgetting his pants, he's pointing his weapon in the wrong direction--and now this."
"Okay, now that we're all here, it's time to cut the shit and get serious," Thrak said, looking from one human to the other. "This is a dangerous mission we're going on... I guess... We can't afford any slip ups. So, when I say pink, I mean that neon stuff. The kind that looks like it's burning through whatever it's painted on."
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Post by Geneenh T'Loris on Mar 12, 2017 3:15:53 GMT -6
"And about rambling, I have my moments too."
Geneenh smiled.
"See?" she said. "We already have something in common...though I doubt your father was salarian."
She extended her hand.
"Thank you for your time, Maelstrom," she said. "I look forward to earning your trust."
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 12, 2017 3:35:56 GMT -6
"Thank you for your time, Maelstrom," she said. "I look forward to earning your trust."
Maelstrom took the offered hand.
"Always happy to add another to our disfunctional little family," Maelstrom said, nearly laughing. "Just, a few things to keep in mind. Don't use biotic abilities you aren't outfitted for, don't pick up geth heads, don't get suddenly paranoid about the rest of us and go sticking words in our mouths, and don't point guns at your team-mates unless they draw first. Keep those in mind, and you'll do fine.
"I need to hunt down Lysander quick," he said. "You're welcome to join me."
With that, he started for the lockers, imagining that most of the team's humans would be there looking to pick out their disguise.
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Post by Geneenh T'Loris on Mar 12, 2017 3:54:25 GMT -6
"Actually, I was planning on talking with the turian female and that other human who didn't talk much," she said. "I like to know who I'm working with."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 12, 2017 11:13:01 GMT -6
Joe frowned, not understanding the krogan's meaning.
"Thrak, the whole point of putting on this armor is to blend in with Cerberus, not stand out," he said. "Why would we want to do that?"
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Post by Urdnot Thrak on Mar 12, 2017 11:44:53 GMT -6
"Why would we want to do that?" Fischer asked.
Thrak just laughed and shook his head slowly. Somehow, the human did not seem to realize he was still the butt of a joke. In its own way, that made it funnier. "Maybe you're right, kid."
Flinging open another locker, he said, "Don't they have any weapons for grown-ups in these damned things? I was hoping to snag a souvenir."
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 12, 2017 11:58:40 GMT -6
Maelstrom found the others chatting away, seeming to talk about the disguises. Whether it was the krogan or the others who had flung open the lockers and littered the ground with personal affects, he wasn't sure, but it made looking for a suit easier. It did not take him long to find what he was looking for, a light armor suit with superb range of motion and a gauntlet-mounted weapon. He considered the sword hung along with it for a second before dismissing the idea; he was not highly-skilled with such a weapon. If it was not useful, it would just be useless weight.
Another quick search led him to another lightweight suit, though this one was of a different build. He quickly extracted the shield generator from the second suit and installed it in place of the cloak on the first. A few other minor tweaks, such as including slots for his custom SMG, assault rifle, and a few concussion grenades, and it would be ready to go. That and one other idea...
Turning to the others, he said, "I wasn't sure if you guys wanted to rig up some sort of IFF through our omni-tools or what, so that when the fighting starts, we don't take friendly fire. I mean, it's either that or ditch our helmets at the outset. I think it would be a bad idea to add custom markings to the armor, and I don't know if they others are familiar enough with Cerberus to tell minor modifications like the ones I'm making at a glance."
Looking straight to Lysander, he also said, "I've also been thinking about how our disguises should be set up and all. Once we get on the Okinawa, I think you'll be better at buying us time... I don't have quite your silver tongue. Getting us in, though... I think I know how to threaten these guys just a bit better than the rest you. I was thinking you be the commander and I be your second in command? That would give me just enough leeway to be able to mouth off and intimidate people on your behalf, while they'd still come to you once we're where we need to be. Also would make it so they don't focus quite as much on me."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 12, 2017 14:32:48 GMT -6
"If you want to be invisible Mal, then don't stand out," Joe said as he rummaged through the storage lockers. "Me, I was made for standing out, might as well put it to use.
"Good idea putting the old man in charge, seeing as how he was officer," he said as he pulled out a rifle that was almost an exact duplicate of the Mattock except it was painted white and had the Cerberus logo on it. "But I should be the second in command. Mal, you may know a few words of militaryspeak but trust me, I know the whole damn dictionary. I know exactly how to make them wet themselves without even laying a hand on them."
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Post by Eric Lysander on Mar 12, 2017 16:21:13 GMT -6
"Fuschia? FUSCHIA?!" Joe glared at Lysander. "All our time together, and you still don't know which color is me?! Obviously I'm a cyan, jeez!"
"See what I'm dealing with?" he said to Thrak, continuing his pretense of being offended. "When he's not forgetting his pants, he's pointing his weapon in the wrong direction--and now this."
“Okay, now that we're all here, it's time to cut the shit and get serious," Thrak said, looking from one human to the other. "This is a dangerous mission we're going on... I guess... We can't afford any slip ups. So, when I say pink, I mean that neon stuff. The kind that looks like it's burning through whatever it's painted on."
"Thrak, the whole point of putting on this armor is to blend in with Cerberus, not stand out," Joseph said. "Why would we want to do that?"
“Junior’s right,” added Lysander. “The standin’ out part comes when th’ shootin’ starts.”
The krogan merc turned his attention to another locker. "Don't they have any weapons for grown-ups in these damned things? I was hoping to snag a souvenir."
Holding back about his own discovery in one of the lockers Eric theorized “it’s only freighter crew. Wouldn’t be any serious hardware aboard unless it was cargo or cargo needing serious hardware to protect. Maybe you’ll have better luck on the Okinawa…”
Eric met Maelstrom’s glance as he approached the trio.
"I wasn't sure if you guys wanted to rig up some sort of IFF through our omni-tools or what, so that when the fighting starts, we don't take friendly fire. I mean, it's either that or ditch our helmets at the outset. I think it would be a bad idea to add custom markings to the armor, and I don't know if they others are familiar enough with Cerberus to tell minor modifications like the ones I'm making at a glance."
“IFF will come in handy if our techs can secure them from outside hacks,” commented the senior N7. “As for mods we can try to keep them not so obvious but again if Cerberus is as paranoid as you say they are, an active scan could give us away.”
Focusing on Lysander, Maelstrom continued, "I've also been thinking about how our disguises should be set up and all. Once we get on the Okinawa, I think you'll be better at buying us time... I don't have quite your silver tongue. Getting us in, though... I think I know how to threaten these guys just a bit better than the rest you. I was thinking you be the commander and I be your second in command? That would give me just enough leeway to be able to mouth off and intimidate people on your behalf, while they'd still come to you once we're where we need to be. Also would make it so they don't focus quite as much on me."
"If you want to be invisible Mal, then don't stand out," Joe proffered, searching through more storage lockers. "Me, I was made for standing out, might as well put it to use.”
The junior N7 produced a Matlock painted in the white and black trim associated with Cerberus apart from their insignia. "Good idea putting the old man in charge, seeing as how he was officer. But I should be the second in command. Mal, you may know a few words of military speak but trust me, I know the whole damn dictionary. I know exactly how to make them wet themselves without even laying a hand on them."
Eric thought for a moment. Joseph was military, almost born and bred unlike Lysander who had worked hard for years to become a capable officer. But their combined experience with Cerberus was limited compared to that of Maelstrom. But the man in Collector armor had a personal vendetta against the group. And his most recent ordeal may well be affecting his balance whether he was conscious of it or not. His anger could easily be channeled into intimidation of reluctant subordinates. But Eric’s worry returned to his friend's mental state and Cerberus’ hyper-vigilance. Could Maelstrom keep his anger in check and not let it bleed over into his act? If he did slip momentarily, would the personnel trying to inspect the ship pick up on it?
“No offense, Mal,” concluded Eric “But I think Joe should take that spot. He’s more… for lack of a better word, impartial. Still, I need you to brief him and me on the essentials: procedures, tells. Anything you think we’ll need to play them long enough for our team to secure the Okinawa.”
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 12, 2017 20:49:22 GMT -6
"If you want to be invisible Mal, then don't stand out," Joe suggested. "Me, I was made for standing out, might as well put it to use.”
Maelstrom did his best to remain expressionless as he waited on Lysander's verdict. In most circumstances, he would have agreed completely with the other man, but this was Cerberus. As had been pointed out previously, none of them knew Cerberus like him.
“No offense, Mal,” Eric ruled, “But I think Joe should take that spot. He’s more… for lack of a better word, impartial. Still, I need you to brief him and me on the essentials: procedures, tells. Anything you think we’ll need to play them long enough for our team to secure the Okinawa.”
Maelstrom leaned back against a locker, crossing his arms. It was hard to put together the sort of experience he had with them and express it concisely. His brow furrowed with the effort.
"Procedure is determined by necessity. The commander of another cell, even if higher-ranking, has less position than the lower-ranking officer when on that officer's home turf. Unless, of course, that higher ranking officer his enough higher ranking. But a low-ranking field operative outranks them both if he's acting on a mission deemed critical by The Illusive Man.
"Since it's black ops, everything has a sense of urgency to it, and half the things are classified. If you can bluff hard enough and smart enough, you might be able to get past a checkpoint by threatening someone with upsetting a higher up or compromising a key operation, but that will last only a handful of minutes, since they have the means to check almost instantly on the veracity of such claims once they reach a command center.
"Of course, unless you get them worked up enough, they could just call the command center and have them check. Ego is a big thing there, almost as much... maybe more than in the private sector. Feel slighted enough, then, if they're convinced, they'll want to rail to their superiors. Although, that might not work if it's one of the folks who started out in the Alliance military. You'll have to judge that when you meet them. Also, it won't help on the Okinawa, since they'll be able to access the comms from almost anywhere on the ship.
"It also won't do much of anything against a cell-leader or ship captain, more than likely. Those leaders tend to know when they're expected to interface with another cell or team, so you won't be able to bluff them. That's something you'll have to deal with in-the-moment.
"If I can think of more, I'll let you know... It's hard to put everything with them into words."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 12, 2017 21:02:59 GMT -6
Joe was only half listening as Lysander and Maelstrom discussed the chain of command not only for their team, but also that of Cerberus and how best to deal with it.
He grabbed a Cerberus chestplate, set it on an armor stand and pushed it down the cargo bay a bit. He brought up his omnitool, synced it to the chestplate and activated its kinetic barriers. He then strode back until he was about fifty meters from it.
Shooting Fundamental Step 1: Steady Position
He dropped down onto his left knee and propped his right elbow on his right knee. He wrapped his left hand around the trigger well--but leaving the trigger itself alone--and wrapped his right hand around the underbelly of the barrel, gripping it firmly but not not in a death grip. He pushed the shoulder stock into the pocket of his left shoulder and cocked his head so his left cheek pressed against the shoulder stock, thus enabling him to sight down the weapon's barrel through the rear and front sight posts.
Shooting Fundamental Step 2: Proper Aim
He looked through the rear sight post and made some minute adjustments to his posture and head until the front sight post was exactly in the center of the small aperture that was the rear sight post. He focused on getting that alignment and thus the chestplate became slightly out of focus.
Shooting Fundamental Step 3: Breath Control
With each inhale, the weapon raised a fraction and with each inhale it dropped. There was a momentary pause before and after exhaling, making either one the ideal time to fire. It really didn't matter at which point he fired, as long as he fired at one of those points in time, but never during the actual process of inhaling or exhaling.
"WEAPON HOT!" he shouted.
Shooting Fundamental Step 4: Trigger Squeeze
Firing was not simply a matter of pulling the trigger. If it was done too fast, it would throw off the lay of the barrel, thus ruining the shot. It had to be slowly pulled back so as not to disturb the weapon, and when the weapon fired, it should be a surprise.
One also had to never anticipate the moment of actual firing. It would cause the muscles to clench, once again throwing off the weapon. One simply had to relax and let the firing of the weapon happen. And once the round or rounds were expended, one should hold the trigger back for a second and then slowly let it return to its resting position to reduce the recoil.
A short burst of rounds flew out from the weapon.
And again.
And again.
He broke cheek-to-stock contact, engaged the weapon's safety and lay it down, then brought up his omnitool to show him where the rounds hit and whistled when he saw the results.
"Damn," he said. "I'd heard these things were accurate, even on full auto, but damn. Cerebrus may be a bunch of paranoid xenophobes, but they don't skimp on their equipment."
He looked over at Thrak and tossed the rifle over to him.
"There's your souvenir," he said. "But if I were you, I wouldn't let it sit around and gather dust, I'd switch out your Mattock for it. Throw in a stability dampener, and combined with your strength, you could probably fire off a whole heat sink's worth of rounds and still keep a tight grouping."
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Post by Arcus on Mar 13, 2017 4:43:25 GMT -6
As Arcus was finishing up applying a fine polish to one of his blades, a sudden yell broke him away from his own little world of knives. “WEAPON HOT!” He looked over to see the tank of a human, Fischer, aiming down the sights of a rifle at an impromptu target. Moments later, the report of gunfire rang, reverberating off the walls of the room. The echos of the first burst interrupted by a second, then a third. Arcus grunted, partly in annoyance, partly in amusement. He supposed he should have been thankful for the warning yell. The gunfire by itself might have earned him a severed digit. His own fault for being lost in his work while occupying the same room as other mercenaries, particularly when one of them was a krogan, and even more particularly when that krogan was Thrak. He eyed the krogan as the human tossed him the rifle, trying to judge whether or not the giant reptile had orchestrated the event. He detected no evidence of such. In fact, the rest of the room seemed to have forgotten his presence as much as he had forgotten theirs. Well, he thought. I do believe it is my turn anyway, Thrak. He turned his attention to his audio player, selecting the next track to play. It was one that, if memory served, had particular effect on the krogan. Arcus had been mildly surprised at Thrak’s resilience, and he wondered how conscious of an effort the krogan was exerting in ignoring the music up to that point. Surely it wasn’t that his tastes had finally matured enough to appreciate true art when his lizard ears heard it. Arcus nudged the volume up just slightly before the song began and turned back to his work as innocently as he could manage. He quietly mouthed the words as the song began, ever so slightly rocking back and forth to the music. “Ba-Ba-Ba Ba-Barbara Ann. . . .”youtu.be/vPRonG87eKw
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Post by Urdnot Thrak on Mar 13, 2017 6:07:42 GMT -6
"There's your souvenir," Fischer said, tossing him a rifle. "But if I were you, I wouldn't let it sit around and gather dust, I'd switch out your Mattock for it. Throw in a stability dampener, and combined with your strength, you could probably fire off a whole heat sink's worth of rounds and still keep a tight grouping."
Thrak caught it but eyed the weapon. It looked almost identical to his own, which was why he thought nothing of it in the first place. The human, though, seemed to consider it a superior weapon. He cocked his head, inspecting it with one squinted eye. There were differences; they were subtle but present.
He stuck the gun on his back. "Maybe on my next mission. I try not to run into battle with guns I don't know, and there's not nearly enough time to get on a first-name basis with this one before we meet up with Cerberus."
Thrak had rifled through enough lockers. He felt anxious with being cooped up on the ship. Some krogan dealt with it better than others, like Wrex, but Thrak needed a large ship with a lot of distractions in order to travel comfortably. This one was too cluttered with cargo, and there were too many people in too little space. It made him want to butt heads with someone... or kill someone... or open up the airlock and take a stroll. None of those were good ideas, though.
Normally, he would have taken a tranquilizer before disembarking on a ship like the Patroclus, but there was not enough time for the dose to fully wear off before they reached their destination. He thought about getting into one of the bottles of ryncol that Maelstrom had let him stow on the shuttle along with the rest of his personal belongings, but he got the distinct impression that the human wanted others on his ship as little as possible.
Thrak guessed everyone wanted to be king of their own little section of the galaxy. The way the human almost drew on him when he went for the rear hatch, though, surprised him. Few krogan were so easily provoked, much less other species. Still, he had been around the galaxy long enough to know everyone had their own quirks and phobias, krogan not excluded. He started to chuckle when he thought of Wrex's secret phobia, but he had sworn on the souls of every ancestor whose name he remembered to never let that secret loose.
The thought made him remember how long it had been since he honored the dead. After the mission, he decided, he would find a nice, quiet corner of the Okinawa to set himself up in, and he would perform the brief ritual.
What he could not put off, though, was the Rite of Firsts. He was not sure if the ancient ways really still served any purpose, but he did believe that if the krogan were going to survive in any meaningful way, they had to remember their past too.
Then he heard it... “Ba-Ba-Ba Ba-Barbara Ann. . . .”
He eyed the turian across the room at the weapons bench, sitting there tending his weapons, pretending to be minding his own business. The bird's taste in "music," if it could really be called that, was dreadful at the best of times. He had been so focused on his tasks and the banter with the human that he could ignore it up until that point. Chance or fate had thrown them together often enough that he was able to build up a resistance. Then he had to put on that track, though. When he did it in the field, it was one thing... Thrak could kill stuff to make up for it.
He closed his eyes hard, trying to ignore the sound, as it built to pure annoyance. His anger was building. A wise, little voice in the back of his mind told him to just leave the room, but his legs refused to move. At least, they refused to move in that direction.
Almost before he had known it, he vaulted over the bench, crossed the couple dozen meters to the turian, and slammed the butt of his war-hammer down on an empty spot of the table. Teeth bared, he said, "I've told you before! Not! On! Small! Ships!"
He felt his breathing start to slow, at least some of his wrath vented, though he was now sure almost all eyes were on him. Damned bird had to goo and make me look like a maniac.
[Interaction with Arcus cleared with the player prior to posting.]
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Post by Arcus on Mar 13, 2017 8:36:34 GMT -6
“. . .Not! On! Small! Ships!”
Arcus continued examining the edge of the blade in front of him intently, showing no outward sign of noticing the smoking volcano towering above him. After a brief moment one hand did reach out, however, and turn off the music. There certainly was a fine line between pissing off a krogan and pissing off a krogan that then tries to kill you. Arcus had likely arrived at that line, and had managed to do so little bit earlier than he had anticipated.
Come to think of it, there had been some mention about the confines of a small ship shortening Thrak’s patience, hadn’t there? He really needed more Clarity. It wouldn’t do to keep forgetting important things. It would land him in more trouble.
Arcus set down his knife, this one was of a more traditional turian design, before finally looking up at the krogan, still keeping his body facing his work. He took a slightly exaggerated sniff of the air around him, before speaking in a level, but kindly, tone. He pushed ever so slightly at the edge of that line between mere peril and imminent dismemberment. “Thrak, breath. Mints. On. Small. Ships.”
Arcus judged the krogan’s expression. The number of teeth showing indicated that the line was now pushed to its absolute limit, and it was time to reel it back. Some part of the previous conversation in the room drifted through his mind, only half heard at the time while he was consumed in his work.
“Pink camouflage. Only reasonable solution. Achieves both goals. Hot pink base meets the soul-burning effect required of a highly serious mission, while the camouflage pattern would still allow our Fischer-man to go by unnoticed.”
He turned in his seat in the direction of Fischer. At least, he turned in the direction he thought Fischer to be in; there was a mountain of krogan in the way. He leaned out as far as he could without toppling over and reached out a hand to wave. “Fischer! Should I start looking for a paint kit?”
[Delicate interaction with Thrak cleared with player prior to post]
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Post by Urdnot Thrak on Mar 13, 2017 9:13:48 GMT -6
“Thrak, breath. Mints. On. Small. Ships,” the turian said.
If he had not come to respect the crazy merc in the missions they had shared together...
"Sure. Just let me find my 'turian liver' flavored ones. Homemade..." With that, he picked up his hammer and started off to find somewhere quieter and less crowded.
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 13, 2017 12:15:17 GMT -6
Joe had watched the confrontation between Thrak and Arcus with more than a little concern, particularly towards Arcus. He had faced angry krogan before, so he knew how to handle Thrak, but Arcus' eerie calmness was a little unnerving. There was a fine line between bravery and stupidity, and the turian was flirting with it in a big way.
“Fischer! Should I start looking for a paint kit?” Arcus asked with Thrak still glaring at him.
"Uh, no," Joe said. "I think we'll go with standard Cerberus white on this one."
He waited until the krogan had stomped out of the cargo bay before turning to Lysander and Maelstrom and saying in a low voice, "Is anyone else reminded of another crazy turian with a fondness for knives, or is it just me?"
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