<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=329085.msg15732038#msg15732038)<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;">WEARING:</span></strong>Krogan Combat Armour<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">LOCATION:</span></strong>Med-bay > Galley<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">CONTENT:</span></strong>On the Hunt<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">TAG:</span></strong>Arcus, Jacob. Jay, Maxine, Namir, Samantha<br/><br/><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><br/>A turian spectre?  Drack grunted in discontent.  More than likely he was going to be the leader of this mission. This wasn't the first time he had worked for a turian, but he never liked it.  At least whatever they were doing wouldn't be boring, the council didn't send out a spectre for a milk run.  No wonder councillor Tevos didn't want to share any details in the cargo bay.  Not that he regretted being rude to her at all.  Council was full of pricks with sticks up their asses, they needed reminding that not everyone thought they were above them.<br/>“Jorgal Drack.  Scout,” he grunted in reply.  That was about all of the politeness he was going to give to the turian today.<br/><br/>Leaving the med-bay, he contemplated where to head next.  He got his prize, but it was still going to take some time before he could turn it into ryncol and he was already working up another thirst.  Krogan organs were great at dealing with toxins, but trying to keep a good buzz going was a constant trial.  The galley seemed the best place to head to, see if there was anything there that could tide him over in the mean time.  Normally Drack wouldn't be so optimistic, it was in his experience that serious missions rarely allowed alcohol on board, but the turian didn't object too hard about him making, drinking and sharing ryncol with others, so there was a glimmer of hope.  Thinking about it, that was something of a mark in the turians favour.  Maybe he should really remember the turian's name.  Arcus's name.<br/><br/>Drack stepped into the galley area on surprisingly soft feet, instantly spotting the bar.  There was also a kitchen area with a surly looking drell there, but the krogan didn't give a shit.  It was the bar that mattered right now.  Of course, it wasn't empty, but that just met the people there knew what was important.  He had come in just at the tail end of the asari mentioning the mission.  Instinct pegged her at maiden stage.  She was working behind the bar, but he didn't think that made her the bartender.  Asari commando maybe?  The mission would be more entertaining if there was one aboard, but he wasn't going to leap to conclusions.  Two of the humans he recognized, one of them had stared at him down in the cargo bay and the other had given him his room number. He still needed to find out if the latter skull.  The third one gave him pause.  She was as tiny as Sam, but had much thicker arms and legs.  That told him warrior, but she was so damn small.  It was enough that Drack was beginning to rethink his stance on whether or not the doctor was a fully grown adult.  He'd have to double check before he said anything more on that.<br/><br/>Walking over to the bar, Drack looked at the asari, “What's the strongest thing here?  I want a glass of that.”<br/>As he got close to the counter, he stopped by the human with the cybernetics.  There was a second's worth of pause before the krogan suddenly headbutted him.