<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/kOfnT10.png)</div><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">NAME:</span></strong>Jorgal Drack (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=335654.msg15962217#msg15962217)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">RACE:</span></strong>Krogan<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">OCCUPATION:</span></strong>Scout/Assassin<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">DATE:</span></strong>18th December 2174 CE<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">WEARING:</span></strong>Krogan Combat Armour<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">LOCATION:</span></strong>Enlil.  Docking Bay Victor 12<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">CONTENT:</span></strong>Troubling Situation<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">TAG:</span></strong>Sam<br/><br/><br/><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><br/>Drack marked off a location on his map.  It was important to have a good map, even better if he didn’t have to make it himself.  Seeing the marked off locations being displayed by his omni-tool, his eyes narrowed in a Krogan frown before closing it.  Every foray meant they had to go out further and further for supply runs, which placed more danger on their teams being caught and increased the possibility of bringing back more of those damned monsters back to their defensive line in the docks bay.  But they didn’t have much of a choice.  No one else here was a Krogan, with a well-stocked hump to see them through a long period with minimal food and water, and the docks weren’t typically well-stocked with emergency rations and water supplies.  Starvation or thirst was a more guaranteed death than going out and seeing what could be scrounged up.  At least they didn’t have to worry about ammo, though he had to use his grenades very sparingly.<br/><br/>To think it started with him wanting an easy job.  Being a hired guard on some kind of  Alliance/Council/Turian effort seemed a pretty relaxing way to spend the next few years while still making credits.  Not a lot of credits, but he wasn’t hurting for them anyways, he could afford to be earning pocket change for a while.  And it had started out pretty well: clock in at a set time, do his patrols while looking mean and angry, clock out at a set time, then enjoy a drink and a meal before heading to bed.  This was practically a vacation for him, a nice way to rest up before another few decades of running around the galaxy with a real job and making the big creds.  His daughters had found it pretty amusing when he told them his plan, laughing at the idea of their old man holding down a ‘respectable’ job.  It was pretty funny, he had laughed with them as they all knew it wouldn’t last for long.<br/><br/>Then some group of pyjak fuckers set off explosions, a virus got out, and now it was a deadly fight for their own survival.  At least it was a novel, the Krogan rarely had the opportunity to experience a fresh new kind of danger after several centuries of fighting.  It’d be something to tell the kids once he got off of the planet alive, found whoever was responsible for this, and killed them.  Because he was going to get his revenge, there wasn’t any doubt in his mind that the person responsible for this entire fuckfest was going to get what they deserved.  Drack wasn’t a bleeding heart, he had seen his fair share of total in his time, so all the dead civies didn’t deeply offend his moral sensibilities.  No, what pissed him off was the release of a virus.  That struck a nerve.  He wasn’t sure if he was vulnerable to it or not, but that wasn’t the point.  Biological warfare was taboo in his mind, and he was going to make sure someone learn about it real well before they died.<br/><br/>Any further dark thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of one of the few people he still liked on the planet.<br/>“Well if it isn’t the only ray of sunshine left here,” Drack welcomed with an affectionate grin.  There was genuine warmth in his tone as he regarded the young human medic.  He had gotten to know her before things went to shit and had taken to her almost instantly.  She reminded him of his daughters and granddaughters, a certain youthful, energetic charm that made him want to look after her.  He had enjoyed their little talks with each other whenever they happened to share a break, despite the vast gap in age and culture.  When the situation went rapidly out of control, he had been happy enough to take her creds, even if his bones had told him that things would be far worse than anyone could really imagine and not worth the money.<br/><br/>“What can I do for you?” he asked.  Experience told him she was scared and worried.  Which was pretty reasonable for a civie, but he had a hunch that there was more to it than their general situation.  His gaze naturally drifted to the other mercenaries before going back to Sam.