Cantenelli strummed his fingers across the railing, looking intently at Darion. Measuring his words. There was silence among them. No one knew what else to say. Darion's assertion that the assassin had been N7 trained left them quiet.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">Well... </span>Ashana began, stepping forward.<span style="color: DarkOrchid">We're here because the Shadow Broker wanted to know this human is. I doubt Vega will be informing the agent of what happened here, so... we have to. We don't know who it was, but given what we've learned about him... the Shadow Broker might.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Do we care?</span>Mickey spoke up from where he sat, straddling the back of one of the consoles lining the CIC. Everyone looked at him. He gaped for a moment as the attention suddenly shifted.<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Look, why are we even talking about his? Whoever that was,</span>he pointed at the display,<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">he kicked our asses. There was like.... 30 of you down there. I was watching the feed. He killed almost everyone that tried to stop him. And, and</span>he pointed back at the display,<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">and he was recognized by someone that worked for the council. And Cerberus. <i>And</i> Dari... whatever you're name is, sorry,</span>he looked at Darion apologetically,<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">thinks this guy might have been N7. <i>N7</i>. That is Alliance elite special ops. Look. I'm not a soldier, I just fly the ship. I don't even shoot the guns. I just point us where we need to go. And right now, I'm wondering why the fuck we're flying into a meteor storm.</span>He nodded at the display.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>