[color=ed1c24][b]"Where the fuck are you?"[/b][/color] Krieg said in a low growl as his deep crimson eyes scanned the dancing and drinking crowd that filled the ever so [I]elegant[/I] club of Afterlife. There were quite a few groups that the Krogan thought would of been the ones that sent out the contract just by the looks of them. One was a small cluster of Vorcha that were huddled together in a corner giving the rest of the crowd the usual dirty glances that Vorcha gives everybody, Krieg quickly ruled them out as the contract because the realization that Vorcha don't have the brain cells or the quad to put a hit out on a Blood Pack member came to him. The next group was a obvious squad of Blue Suns mercs, looked like they were off duty judging by the drinks they were downing and the Asari that was currently [I]entertaining[/I] them. Again Krieg ruled that lot out for the sheer fact that any Blue Sun worth his metal would know to never hire a Krogan to take on the Blood Pack, chances are that they had some connections to them. The final group was the most unlikely, it was made up with a series of seemingly random races that looked like they were just pulled off the street. Krieg was about move his gaze elsewhere when the Turian sitting at the table waved him over. [color=ed1c24][b]"You have got to be shitting me..."[/b][/color] The Krogan groaned as it turned out that that hobnob of mix matched people had to be the ones he was looking for. Krieg made his way through the crowd, push those who weren't smart enough to get out of his way fast enough, until he reached the table that he was called to. [color=ed1c24][b]"You the ones with the contract?"[/b][/color] He said as bluntly as physically possible.