Yarsin's skycar hovered into view over the plaza, then slowly lowered itself to the ground. The door lifted up and Kerr'Shal climbed out, surveying the scene. This was a shipwreck alright; it was even better than he had expected. Not even a few hours into this job and there were already injuries and name-calling. The quarian was looking forward to the stories he'd be able to tell a few months from now: "Truthfully, I was there when the Huntress met her match. Aria's Fist was already incapacitated, having caught a sniper's bullet with her shoulder. That was when the krogan intervened, and then...."

Kerr'Shal had heard Raze's speech over the comms while he flew in, chewing out everyone else and calling him a "fuck-head Quarian." Mildly amusing. He had set his omni-tool to record the spiel, there would be demand for proof that he had really worked with these people, after all. It was ironic, the krogan was telling them to pick a leader when he clearly thought that he himself was most qualified for that job. Kerr'Shal considered the women's actions to be perfectly logical, himself. With Yarsin dead that sniper had been their only living lead--as far as they knew the whole job was a bust now. Maybe if they had formulated a better plan than "sit in the balcony and wait for something to go wrong," Kali and Alexa's actions could be considered rash.

None of these thoughts would be shared, of course. Arguing was a waste of time, especially where krogan were concerned.

"Well, what will it be? Do we stay here and choose a leader, or send this one to the hospital?" Kerr'Shal asked, motioning towards Alexa. "Perhaps we can hold a vote en route to a hospital?" he added dryly.