<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/BibuB9H.jpg)<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Blue Team</span></span></div></div><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">NAME:</span></strong>Luus Remiril (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=329029.msg15725923#msg15725923)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">RACE:</span></strong>Turian<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">OCCUPATION:</span></strong>Mercenary/Demolitionist Vanguard<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">DATE:</span></strong>December 20th, 2174 CE<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">WEARING:</span></strong>As shown<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">LOCATION:</span></strong>North of LZ<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">CONTENT:</span></strong>Mourning Blues<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">TAG:</span></strong>Team Turian Tongue<br/><br/><br/><br/><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><br/>All hostiles were put down, and they even had a captive. Unfortunately, it came at a cost. A grisly, splattered cost, mixing in with the blown out corpses of the klixen. He didn't care to look back at it. Instead he faced forward, eyes on the cause of his team member's death.<br/><br/>The batarian was unconscious, but how long would that last? And he had no cuffs nor the desire or focus to keep him bound with biotics. It seemed he'd have to break something to keep him subdued. So he crouched down, gripping the batarian's arm tight and preparing to twist with brutal force.<br/><br/>Then he remembered the nets batarians used to capture their slaves.<br/><br/>Later, he would report that he remembered too late.<br/><br/><em>Snap!</em><br/><br/>He wrenched the batarian's arm in a direction it was not meant to turn, and the resulting breakage was a cathartic sound; as was the knowledge that the bastard would feel it later, a nice start to the interrogation to come. For now, though, he searched him for a electric submission net and once he found it, he bound him up in it, leaving it inactive for the time being. There was no point to shocking an unconscious person after all. If anything it might help wake him up.<br/><br/>With a grunt, he hefted the batarian onto his shoulders, and the discomfort he felt at the sites of his burn wounds made them severely known. Thank the spirits he had medi-gel to keep him blissfully numb.<br/><br/>He approached the shuttle, opening its rear doors and tossing the batarian inside, netted up, bruised, and broken. "This thing flight ready?" he asked Jay in a measured voice. He peered at her over the pilot seat, watching and listening for signs of distress. She was skilled, without doubt, but she was green, too. And even if she weren't, seeing an ally die wasn't something you shook off completely. "<em>You</em>flight ready?" Subtle as he tried to be for both their sakes, there was a notable twinge of concern in his voice. "You saved my life back there. Time to save some more, yeah?"