<div class="floatleft">(http://allphoto.in.ua/photo/40/es2407727.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Nel’Taan vas Nomdae<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Briefing Room<br/><strong>Tags:</strong>Open<br/><br/><hr/><br/><br/>“I have one,” A voice spoke from the back of the room. Cold and with an almost flanged ring thanks to the filter upon his mask. Nel had finally opened his mouth, and revealed his accent, something that the Humans present might have correlated to a Russian accent, as the Quarian had been told of several times during his stay on the Citadel. But it was simply a dialect that had passed down from one generation to the next aboard his birth ship, the Khai. The deep blue light upon the voice filter of his mask flashed to life as the words left his tongue, a custom the Quarians adopted centuries ago to give a little more life to their conversations since everyone had to wear the blasted helmets.<br/><br/>It was very apparent to the former captain that this mixed bag of biotics, engineers, soldiers, and who knew what else was as explosive as one of his specially made grenades. And they were not the least bit disciplined. Already, the young Turian had questioned the authority of one of the human commanders, and now two of the humans were prematurely leaving the briefing without a proper dismissal by their commanding officer. It was entirely inappropriate, and showed a great deal of disrespect. Even more confusing was that Fera gave no order for them to stay put, or even seemed to really care that they left before she was done.<br/><br/>“The mission is clear, but some of the men and women you have enlisted already show a great lack of respect for the chain of command,” he said, shooting a glance at Callius and motioning his head towards the door that Stephen and Velve bolted out of just moments earlier. The feint light of his eyes disappeared for a moment in a blink, then flashed back like someone flipping a light switch, and then they met again with Fera’s. Nel was standing formally, with his hands behind his back and standing straight up and tall, where it seemed the rest of this rag-tag group was content to lay around casually.<br/><br/>“Is this how your ship will be run?” Nel questioned her. A question that Nel felt he should never have to ask his captain, especially not upon the first day aboard. To his people back on the flotilla, it could have been taken as a great insult. Among these alien races, it was a unknown and her reaction would give the Quarian a better understanding of the way these people operated. The mission was intriguing and a great opportunity, so he would go along regardless. But knowing before hand that the ship was ruled by anarchy would be something good for him to keep in mind.