One can only crawl trough so many cramped spaces in ones life before it got a tad bothersome. Duros had well passed the bothersome stage several years ago while sneaking past C-Sec officers via a airwent. He grunted as he hit his head against another crisscrossing tube of wires. The swearing that escaped him was not that of his own people, rather it was a mix of krogan and turian. Most of his extra-species vocabulary had come courtesy of mercenaries and a poor choice in cross-species music.  Finally, he reached his destination. Their cannon had no place on a ship such as this in the first place. It had been added in a later state and fitted to the underside of the damn thing by cutting into where the hull had been thickest and rigged it alongside the belly of the ship. Only problem with this, as Drono was experiencing, was that such a addition had to be reached from the outside. And that's why the Drell gunner was crawling about. It was a good thing he didn't have any claustrophobia, or he would likely be a whimpering mess at this point. As it were however, the drell was cursing fouler words by the minute and switching between languages. His target was the myriad of tubes that coiled around the base of the cannon,put there to quickly cool it after each mass accelerated shot. As far as a Mass Acceleration cannon went, it was the smallest of potatoes. But even a small gun was better then no gun. 

Luckily, the tubes he found were mostly intact. All but for one. It had broken of from the main coolant dispenser and as he began to fasten the damn thing he noted the break was clean. He tried not to get to much of the super cold, blue liquid on himself. He might be wearing a protective suit and facial shield. It did not stop it from getting into tiny crevasses and cover him with cold blisters. He was just starting when the explosion rocked the hull, sending vibrations trough the hull and spilling coolant all over his hand. He quickly tore of the protective glove before it froze into hardness. He swore under his breath. Luckily, he brought more then one pair. He had worked with similar things before and knew the need for backup protection. While he was no mechanic,  he was something of a weapon aficionado and had maintained the weapon systems back in the day. And the problem he was facing was nothing any smart, gun obsessed Drell couldn't fix.

Once satisfied with is work he bagan to crawl out. A process that had him crawl backwards, and hitting his head even more. ”This. This is why father said I should have studied” He murmured darkly, chuckling ever so softly. Once he was out, he shut the hatch and let himself hang in the harness, looking around, watching illium below. A smile curled on his lips. He wasn't your average Drell. He didn't feel any great need to be some Hanars pet murderer. He had been prepared for such a life before, true. But they had rejected him. What he had found instead, had been a world much more colorfull, much less restricted. And much, much less forgiving. His eyes closed, and the face of a Salarian flashed before his minds eye. Looking smug, staring down at him as he tried to move his arms in vain. That thought snapped him out of his reverie and he hauled himself up inside the Ship. 


[Color=#5CB3FF]”Gun is good to go”[/Color]  He spoke into the Intercom. [Color=#5CB3FF]”For now anyway. The fix is temporary and we lost maybe thirty percent in the coolant tank. But I don't expect to be shooting that thing alot just yet." He shook his head. "The thing is sloppy work to, they all but welded the thing and jury rigged it to draw from the Mass Core. Crazy stuff.”[/color] He let the intercom button go as he undid the harness and stretched.  He headed for the Kitchen, thinking he might see if he can't get something to eat and get a better look at his new crew mates.

As he entered, he noted that he was not the first to arrive there. An Asari, looking as Asari did. That is attractive and likely to biotic kick his ass. His infatuation with a certein Asari singer aside, his attempts to socialize with them had ended poorly. There was also a was a Quarian, he had forgotten about that. A wry smile etched itself on his face. [Color=#5CB3FF]”Heh. How do you like the bird?”[/Color]  He asked, referring to the ship. [Color=#5CB3FF]”It might not be a great splendid one. But it got wings.”[/Color] H

His eyes glanced at the Krogan busy rummaging trough the freezer. [Color=#5CB3FF]”Find anything edible.”[/Color]  He then turned his head to the apparent chef. 

[Color=#5CB3FF]”If you can make something not fish, I'd be grateful. I come from a water planet. I have seen enough fish to last me a lifetime.”[/Color] He noted. He was relaxed, as relaxed as he could be around stranger anyway.