<div align="center">(https://fontmeme.com/permalink/210227/72a43b62ce8e93afe520992ffb64eac5.png)</div><br/><br/><div align="center"><strong>___________________________________</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>___________________________________</strong></div><br/><br/><strong>East of Landing Zone:-</strong><br/><br/>The ground beneath them was rocky and uneven, dull of color and void of vegetation. Occasionally a plant could be found, but most of these would be stretched across the soil like greedy things hoarding what little space its roots managed to claim. Far from pretty, the flora was mostly dotted with large, rubbery leaves ranging in speckled shades of brown, and recoiled back when a boot stepped in too close. These plants had adapted to this chlorine haze, and upon closer inspection, one might see tiny threads drifting above the mass like individual strands of hair floating on currents of air. A few of these plants even kicked up plumes of chlorine gas if they were stepped on, a last-minute defense against its natural predators. Or, alien life taking a stroll.<br/><br/>The Red team wouldn’t be able to rely on their tech completely, however; the EMP storm that raged overhead interfered with some critical systems. Even Sink’s drone would occasionally spark and shutter as the sky began to boil with electricity. Thankfully, for the moment, that build-up was quite content to remain right where they had left it.<br/><br/><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Jacki</div><div class="spoiler_body"> Exploring ahead of the rest of the team, the Salarian would come across a set of tracks curving slightly east and in the direction they ultimately wished to travel. Bipedal but unknown by the STG agent, it’s quite possible these tracks come from a creature native to the moon. </div></div></div><br/><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Drack</div><div class="spoiler_body"> Being stuck in the middle isn’t always a fun place to be; not unless there were at least two asari involved, anyway. Whether or not the Krogan was eyes downcast and pouting, or just lucky enough to catch it in the right lighting, what looked to be a severely corroded and inoperable pistol was half-buried under some gravel just along the outer edge of the path. No doubt it has been here for quite some time.</div></div></div><br/><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Rue</div><div class="spoiler_body"> The quarian knows what she’s doing, she’s bright and brilliant and well versed in tech and making do with little resources. Between the data points provided by the researchers and intuition, she is able to project the coordinates required whenever their sense of direction might jumbled or off course.</div></div></div><br/><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Sinclair</div><div class="spoiler_body"> The bot is starting to not look so well, the poor thing. Chlorine and metal aren’t the best of friends, but Bobby wants to be yours! He’s trucking along, putting his best face forward- but there are some concerning signs to take note of. Like the fact that he was weaving like a drunk, or occasionally dropping in altitude as if falling asleep at the wheel. At least the occasional spark was pretty.</div></div></div>