<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cc/d3/eb/ccd3eb851ec1e8945ab9e1e139a25276.jpg)</div><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">NAME:</span></strong>Florinthia 'Flo' Legiticus (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=329085.msg15779216#msg15779216)<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>Biotic Weapon and Requisition Officer<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>Casual synthetic top and 'pants' with a nice brown jacket. (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ee/10/f7/ee10f772225f872df8cc7c242d7e19ec.jpg)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">LOCATION:</span></strong>Kalanhai Bottom Deck | Engineering --> Bottom Deck | Near Decontamination<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">CONTENT:</span></strong>Hmmm...<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">TAG:</span></strong>Malcolm Thomas<br/><br/><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><br/>Mercifully for Malcolm, Florinthia was not a mind-reader. She didn't see the way his eyes ate in her defiance with subtly stoked reverence. She didn't notice the little smirk on his face as he got what he wanted. She didn't sense the pumping of blood, or the rush of hormones. All she saw was a man taking his brief position of power and using it. There was nothing wrong with that, it was the inherent spectre of hierarchy looming over all those who ever wore a military uniform, or served aboard a military ship. Hierarchy was the give-and-take of those in positions of power. Taking stipends, offering rewards and orders...It was as engrained in a Turian's mindset as their metallic exoskeleton was into their flesh.<br/><br/>...The best thing about Hierarchies was that they changed, frequently. No one stayed on top forever, and Malcolm certainly wouldn't be on top for long.<br/><br/>Flo unscrewed the top of the bottlecap and sighed, taking in a swig of cold water with a momentary dropping of her guard letting a shiver run through her body, all the way down her spine. Most of the water she'd had in Isolation was luke-warm at best, segregated in a contained area and left for at least half an hour to ensure there was no cross-contamination. The touch of water fresh out of the fridge - crisp and chilled and almost cold enough to be ice – was nectar for her. She cleared her throat once she was done, turning her neck just enough to glance back at the human, walking with purpose as they exited the main Engineering bay. “<strong>Omnigel for their guns, and permission to get one of you techies to rewire and upgrade the security system. Requisition includes manhours, after all.</strong>” She was back to a briefly more...bored-but-serious tone now, the moment of rawness and fire gone with her recovery. “<strong>If requests are ridiculous, I deny them without a visit. Then the query-er can come and visit me to explain why it is important on their damn time. If I visit a party, it's because I can see some value in what they are doing.</strong>” She turned a corner sharply, The talons of her right hand resting on the wall to keep herself balanced as she tested whether moving at pace was what had disoriented her.<br/><br/>Thankfully, she was relatively unphased. They continued moving until they were a corridor and a half away from the Decontamination ward. When they were in place, she stopped Malcolm by putting a firm hand on his chest, pushing him before starting to look up at the area. “<strong>This is the spot in question...</strong>” She looked at the surroundings and spotted the supposed problem. The bulkhead of a doorway was blocking a Camera's line of sight. Each side could feasibly be used as full cover for an individual and their gun, which was fine until you remembered this was near Decontamination. Not having eyes on that area in particular was a walking nightmare. There were probably a few solutions she could think of: Installing additional cameras, or moving the previous one perhaps; maybe trying to install a VI that could scan an area for the electronic synapse of neurons firing; or just trying to remove the bulkhead. All were technically possible, but each presented unique problems...<br/><br/>“<strong>You're a techie. What would you do to solve this issue?</strong>” She turned to Malcolm, deciding to put him briefly on the backfoot, considering his insistence to tag along. She opened her Omnitool and showed him the live feed of the Camera, seeing if he figured out the issue, as well as a solution; and how long it took. Intelligence was important, and a cunning man was less likely to waste resources, or come up with a suitable solution. This was his chance to impress her, or to reiterate her catty sense of smug superiority.