Each bump in the road made the drell shift lightly in his seat. But he was used to bumpy travel. He didn't even open his eyes to look at the bickering of their turian squad. So many turians in one place, one could mistake them for a c-sec unit. That idea amused him, then unsettled him. He was pretty sure the C-sec file on him was about a mile long at this point. Not that the would ever be able to prove jack all. He wasn't sloppy, not even after his spine nearly got severed by a bullet. It was this assurance that let him stay calm even as they headed down a road towards a lair filled with pirates. Not any pirates, Bartarian smugglers. They were a nasty lot. He had refused to do buisness with them more then once. Trafficking of people was one of the trades he never touched. To much colleteral, to much that could go wrong. To many screams and cries for help. He closed his eyes and let the hum of engines, screeching and squealing from years of neglect and misuse. To a person who spent most his youth sleeping in a engine room or gunners station, it was a lullaby. Unbidden, the memories drifted onto the front of his mind. [s]-------------[/s]Dreaming[s]-------------[/s] They were staring down a ramp. The Salarian dressed in a heavy set of armor, looking at two groups of four Bartarians below him. The salarians gear was all red, almost to the point where you'd mistake him for The Blood Pack. The Drell next to him, a younger, spryer Drono was dressed head to toe in carcoal black, light armor. The two eyed the group below them with entirely different facial expressions. The Drells face was one of barely contained excitement. ”You know this is completely insane.” Dronos partner in crime said, the Salarians voice full of sceptsism and worry. ”You know you are very unusual for a Drell. I thought you were all suppose to be calm and collected. Perfect little citizens.” [color=PaleGreen]”And I thought Salarians were obsessed with being more savy and intelligent then other species. And here you are, slumming it with a Drell outcast who wasn't good enough for the Compact.”[/color] ”Yes. So I keep being reminded.” The Salarian replied dryly. ”Still. You can't possibly wan't me to accept this plan as anything else as suicid-” Drono cut him off. Holding his hand up for silence as he fished up two flashbangs. He seemed to calculate something in his mind. Then he spoke, a smile on his lips as if something terrible and flashy just played out in his minds eye. [color=PaleGreen]”They are Bartarians. We off a few and spring some slaves while looting and the humans will hold us a parade.”[/color] Drono said with a wry grin on his lips as he seemed to have come to a conclusion. Hooking his thumbs in the springs of the two grenades he moved over the the ramp. ” They aren't exactly known for their even tempers and forgiving nature. They won't forget this.” Yestin, as the Salarian was called, warned his brash companion. The Drell just grinned at him. [color=PaleGreen]”That is why we hit them so hard they don't know what or who hit them. Now. Watch and learn.”[/color] Drono tossed the grenades forward and slightly to the sides. They bounced down the steep ramp at increasing speed before tumbling onto the floor perfectly between the feet of each group. There was a single moment of calm, and then there was screaming. [u]-----------------------------[/u] Drono woke from his daydream as they came to a halt. A halt that banged his head painfully against the cramped cars interior. [color=PaleGreen]” We should shoot whoever handles infrastructure after we off the pirates.” He mumbled as he watched other pile out to fix whatever stopped them. He let the Turians deal with it, they seemed to be way to eager about this. Not eager as in giddy little children, but they were all so very miltary. All about that quick action. Albeit he could appreciate the preffesionalism of it all, it also reminded him that he was very much the opposite. He was languid, quick to speak and undiciplined. A massive contradiction compared to what everyone assumed was the nature of a Drell. His breathren had a reputation of spirituality and calm. Of introspection and dedication. He was happy with being a outlier in all of this. Had he been accepted int the Compact he likely would have turned out as all the others. But he had not, and his impulsive nature had landed him here. For better or worse. Another bump in the road convinced him it was for the worse. With his now tilted away from the machines inners, tryingt to avoid another repeat. He noticed the Krogan return with the others. As the Drell watched Tonka get back into the truck, he tilted his head further.[color=PaleGreen]"Tonga right?"[/color] He asked. He wasn't exactly bad with names. But it didn't do any harm to double check this early on. [color=PaleGreen]"You'll be my eyes in the scope. Right?"[/color] [color=39b54a]"Ton[I]ka[/I]."[/color] The krogan corrected, cramming himself in across from the drell and making life very uncomfortable for one of the asari next to him. His Volkov rifle was in hand and resting folded between his legs on the floor, making it quick to deploy in a pinch. He regarded the drell for a moment before offering a slow nod. [color=39b54a]"Yeah. Being stronger than everyone tends to give you steady hands. This thing feels like a toy compared to what I used to carry. And you're the one who's going to scout ahead?"[/color] [color=PaleGreen]"Tonka. Right."[/color] Drono nodded, mentally slapping his forehead at his little blunder. [color=PaleGreen]"Right. I'm our cloak and daggers type I guess. Well. No. That's wrong. The spy is more at home with that stuff. I'm the guy who make people run screaming because a Exectutioner bullet just took out a chunk of their best friend from out of nowhere."[/color] The Drell grinned, a wry look on his face. [color=PaleGreen]"Speaking of making people run. How the hell did a field-medic and trained vanguard end up with this bunch?"[/color] The Drell said as he turned his eyes to Alex. [color=PaleGreen]"Tonka here is complaining his rifle is a kids toy compared to his usual gear that would likely take out a cruiser on it's own. What, pray tell, do the human come packing with. Aside from apparently being biotic I mean"[/color] Alex had been checking over her own weapon while the chatter in the truck had droned in her ears. The vanguard had put the helmet back on once the party had decided to start moving, and thus had taken the time to think to herself. When the Drell had begun to mention her, she focused back in and looked up at the alien. Words didn't come from the human as she looked between the Drell and the Krogan as her thoughts raced from one side of her brain to the other. Then, she finally spoke a few seconds later, [color=yellow] "Medical school is expensive and boring. I was headed to a program for Biotics to try and become a full doctor, but Mindoir happened. I owed a friend a favor, ended up here." [/color] She decided to stick with the truth. She wasn't sure what the males would have known about her nor what information they would pass along. She had no secrets to keep, and hoped that her private life would stay that way once that fact was made clear. [Color=yellow] "As for my weapon, I brought an M-7 Lancer. It's an assault rifle that I squirreled away a while ago. Reliable, light to carry, low ammo maintenance." [/color] The glowing blue visor tilted as she managed to convey an amused tone through her helmet's outside comms relay. [Color=yellow] "Deadly without much kick when used right. It won't be turning heads into soup, but that's what my biotics are for."[/color] [color=PaleGreen]"Ah. I feel safer already"[/color] Drono said dryly. He could certeinly approve and relate to being bored and seeking out adventure. It was what had landed him in a career of smuggling and running from the authorities. [color=PaleGreen]"Myself."[/color] He said as he lifted his executioner Heavy Pistol in front of himself. Admiring it. It had clearly been made to look a little less bulky, and it had a longer barrel. [color=PaleGreen]"I got me a Executioner Heavy Pistol. Pried it off the hands of a Blood Pact member years ago. Pistol High-Caliber Barrel for that extra bite to. Because nothing says 'stay down' as a extra high caliber round from the galaxies single most powerful pistol. Kicks back like a drunk Krogan however... No offense meant, Tonka."[/color] [color=39b54a] "Hanhe-Kedar, standard Alliance issue. Not a bad piece, I've used one a few times. Don't care for the ergonomics, but it's robust enough to keep working even when everything else craps out."[/color] Tonka said approvingly of the Lancer, holding of one of his over-sized hands to emphasize the point that grips designed for human use weren't universal. [color=39b54a]"Don't care much for the crap the Blood Pack cobbles together. Too crude, cumbersome, and prone to malfunction because what do you expect when a bunch of vorcha cannon fodder are told to put together anything more sophisticated than a piece of furniture. Sure, the Executioner packs a good punch, and I promise you it was the idea of one krogan wanting another krogan dead with minimal effort, but you're kind of an idiot for running around with just that pistol and nothing else. One shot isn't a lot when you're waiting for the damn thing to cool down when a swarm of varren come to rip you limb from limb. Pick yourself up a rifle or shotgun, you'll be happier and live longer for it."[/color] The stubborn side of the Drell Smuggler wanted to tell the big beefy meathead of a species that was the Krogan, how much it all boiled down to flare and shock. The pragmatic side of him however, told Drono that Tonka had a point. [color=PaleGreen]"...Point taken. I generally rely on my tactical cloak and quick thinking to confuse them in between shots. That. And I generally only pick fights I know I can win."[/color] [color=39b54a] "Yeah, take it from someone who's been around for longer than most people and their parents, sometimes the fight picks you. Either you're ready when that happens, or you're dead. When someone starts shoving a gun or six in your face, your options are limited to what you have to shove back. Thus, precision rifle and an assault rifle. If it walks, I want to have the power to kill it on my terms. I'm sure Alex here gets that. Humans tend to like a good scrap, I've noticed."[/color] Tonka interjected, looking expectantly at their human companion. She was loathe to pick a side, but she had to admit that Tonka was right to a degree. [Color=yellow]"Obviously, I'm speaking from the viewpoint of a front line soldier. But I have to agree with Tonka. It's also one reason why I carry an assault rifle rather than a shotgun. My job is to get in, kill as many mooks as I can, then get out. As a soldier, I had to bring home as many of my fellows as I could. So sometimes I needed to lay suppressing fire. Couldn't do that with a shot gun or a pistol." [/color] The woman rubbed the armor of her right forearm. [Color=yellow] "I wouldn't have been able to protect a hastily built medical camp in the middle of a combat zone with my biotics, a pistol or a shotgun. I couldn't afford to have a rifle that wasn't reliable or couldn't keep enemies down. I needed to kill, quickly and efficiently...mop up the ones my biotic didn't kill outright in as little time as possible." "The Executioner isn't all that bad, but when you don't have tech or a cloak, such weapons aren't practical. But, in the end, it's up to you. You can take up a rifle or stay with the pistol. Either way, I'll be watching your back or patching you up the best that I can." [/color] Drono threw up his hands in mock resignation. [color=PaleGreen]"Right. Right. I'll see if I can't steal one of the pirates bigger guns."[/color] He glanced at his Omni-tool. [color=PaleGreen]"We should hit Mission site any second now."[/color] He looked up towards his two comrades in arms. [color=PaleGreen]"We'll see just how effective I can be with this thing... Ton[i]ka[/i]" [/color] With that, he looked over to Haze.[color=PaleGreen]"You. With me"[/color] He said as he hustled out the back.