<div class="floatleft">(http://allphoto.in.ua/photo/40/es2407727.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Nel’Taan<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Shuttle Bay<br/><strong>Tags:</strong>Open<br/><br/><hr/><br/>No purpose to live for, no people to fight for, and no home to go back to. Captain Nel’Taan vas Nomdae was a derelict ship without a course or destination since his banishment from the flotilla. Drifting from one port to another in his second hand falling apart ship, scrounging up what he could to survive. Once a proud member of the Quarian race, and now being reduced to rubble, his life all in shambles. Yet hope remained, or at least some small undying spark of will. Nel was never a man to give up, he was a fighter. And despite being forever torn away from the people he loved, the former captain was determined to find meaning in his life.<br/><br/>After banishment, Nel floated around to a few worlds in the Attican Traverse, and eventually found his way deeper into Council territory.  He’d lived several years of his life as a young man in the Terminus Systems as a merc, and after that experience he had no desire to do it again. With his experience in explosives, he believed it would be easy to find honorable work inside Citadel space. However his beliefs didn’t entirely come true as soon as he'd hoped.<br/><br/>He found his was onto the Citadel, and was immediately met with skepticism and bigotry by it’s inhabitants. Something that he fully expected to go through and was prepared for. In a perfect situation Nel would have chosen another place to try and find work. But like Omega was to the Terminus Systems, the Citadel was the center of work and many important things going on in Council space. It was his best bet for find a position befitting of his abilities. Several months passed as Nel went from one shit job to the next, until he found himself in the employ of a SPECTRE working for the council, a fact that he did not know at the time. He was a Salarian who’s job was to infiltrate a local gang ring in the lower wards and required someone well versed in explosives and hacking to get the job done.<br/><br/>The mission was a complete success thanks in large part to Nel’s knowledge and experience. And he got paid a hefty sum for his good work, something that helped keep his head above water for a few more weeks at least. But they parted ways. The Salarian however was very impressed, and forwarded a dossier on Nel with what little information he was able to dig up to the council. Recommending Nel for any future missions that involved the need for explosives and  experienced soldiers. The Quarian was none the wiser about it though, and kept on about his business.<br/><br/>Another month passed and Nel was drawing near to falling on hard times. His money depleted, and his old ship sold a long time ago to make ends meet. If he couldn’t find consistent work soon, he wasn’t sure where else he would be able to turn. But thankfully, that was when he was approached by a mysterious agent on behalf of the council. He was shortly briefed about a situation arising that required his skills, and was ordered  to report to the docks and to the ship called The Vigilant. Nel felt skeptical, but intrigued by the opportunity laid before him. After some inner debate, he decided to head to the docks at the appointed time, after all he had nothing to lose.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Nel stood with his arms crossed, each of his hands tucked in between his sides and biceps. The posture of someone being very off-putting and disconnected to what was going on around them. Body language and tone were the only real indicators a person could notice on him to get a feel for his mood, seeing as his face was hidden behind the dark blue haze like tint of his mask. He had his normal combat body suit on. It was mostly grey, but had a light red tinted fabric draping around it, for aesthetic purposes mainly. A patch lay over the left side of his chest that kept the rest of the red material around his shoulders from falling off. On it was a black and white symbol native to the Quarian people, it was the symbol of a captian and leader. Something any outsiders would not likely understand. But of all the possessions Nel still held since leaving his people, that simple patch meant the most.<br/><br/>Asari, Turians, Salarians, and a surprisingly lot of Humans were all gathered there. Nel kept his distance from the rest, feeling like something of a loner since he was the only non-council race representative present. He hadn’t spoken to any of his new comrades yet, and didn’t really plan to unless spoken to first. Though not a xenophobe, Nel held no love for the races of Citadel space after their treatment of his people following the Geth War, turning them into outcasts and never accepting them back even generations after the Quarians who made the mistakes were long dead. And he would not openly be friendly with them from the beginning. Though there was apart of him that found them all quite intriguing, from the perspective of learning more about them at least.<br/><br/>But then a pair of Turians walked into the shuttle bay, with another human as well. An order to sound off reverberated throughout the hold, and regardless of what the others may do, Nel wasn’t going to salute and acknowledge a man he had only just met and didn‘t fully understand his reasons  for being there as of yet. That was never his own way as a captain. Respect of the men and women in his service was always earned, and never freely given. So the Quarian stood solemn, a few paces away from the rest of the group and isolated, watching and waiting to see what might unfold. And to finally learn of his purpose for being here in full.