<br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/236x/4d/e4/db/4de4db0d36edeae01e2a43ba666d29aa--deus-ex-mankind-divided-jensen.jpg)</div><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">NAME:</span></strong>Jacob "Sink" Sinclair (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=329085.msg15729522#msg15729522)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">RACE:</span></strong>Human<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">OCCUPATION:</span></strong>Chief Engineer<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">DATE:</span></strong>18th of December, 2174 CE<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">WEARING:</span></strong>Nose bandage, a towel wrap.<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">LOCATION:</span></strong>Room 15<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">CONTENT:</span></strong>De-exposing<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">TAG:</span></strong>Jackiro<br/><br/><strong></strong><br/><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><br/><strong>"Aegohr Ronlan Cjur Fimor Solus Tazzik. Intelligence agent, retired from active service. I believe she was in her late 30's."</strong>Waiting patiently as the salarian does the analysis on the arm, while himself reminiscing the past with the salarian agentess.<strong>"We served together on a salvage ship, Fullom. Don't think she was actually a female,"</strong>he adds to the sentence, having noticed that most salarians tend to doubt that part of the story,<strong>"I think she was fascinated by the humanity's transgender culture and wished to emulate. She does look fabulous in a dress. Want to see some pictures?"</strong><br/><br/>Once Jackiro gives his arm, back, the man proceeds to use his left hand to place the shoulder in its socket. A whirr and buzz is heard as the attachments take hold, and a solid click informs them that a connection has been made, leading to Jacob to move the arm around to readjust himself to its presence.<strong>"Computer, display album Tazzik."</strong>with the engineer's words spoken, a projector drone peeps up and begins to emit a holoimage of a clear (to a) salarian male in full summer gown and a wide brimmed hat, verily in the human style, imitating human gestures of an abashed old lady.<strong>"I do believe she's nowadays modeling for a tailor somewhere in Asia, Earth. Either Vietnam or Thailand."</strong><br/><br/>Having utterly digressed from the topic, since the actual fix for the situation would require a more throughout disassembly than one cares to ask from a casual acquaintance. Being as personal issue as it is.<strong>"I was afraid I need to start getting deeper into it. Thanks for the analysis, was hoping there'd be a quicker fix. Will have to hustle to get this done before the estimated landing, lest you want to lend a hand." </strong>The man moves, reaching down to his leg, to open up a compartment in the modification, detaching the cloak modulator from its hidey hole.<strong>"Would love to see a master at the helm. Gives me a chance to learn."</strong>Hand moving to offer the quite innocent looking plastic box with metal connectors to Jackiro.