He had never been to Earth before. 

Skarr's heavy footfalls echoed across the chasms of the underways, the only sound that could be heard for miles other than the occasional drop of water, or the echoes of the nightlife above. He guessed in hindsight that a Krogan going into an abandoned underway was a very suspicious thing, and he had done nothing to hide he was doing it. Granted, the drain he had entered near the coast was still relatively isolated. He hoped he was heading in the right direction. 

Voices could be heard up ahead. The Battlemaster had his M15 Vindicator in his ham sized fists, holding it as casually as he could. Of course, his casual looked to others as if he was ready to use it at any need or provocation. He was never anything if not prepared, senses on edge to see if any danger presented itself. It was lucky for the other prospective Spectre members that he had been too far away to hear the gunshots by the crazed Asari. 

He stepped into the light at what looked to as mixed of a group as he was experienced with. Quarians, Asari, Turians, even a Geth. Of course, the most notable one he saw was a younger Krogan, full of fire and strength. It reminded him of himself in his youth. Briefly, Skarr supposed the others probably couldn't tell a young Krogan from an older one. It seemed so obvious to his eyes. Still, he would not boast or brag. Nor would he disrespect this young one that has clearly seen his fair share of battle for his years, judging from the few scars he could see and how he carried himself. 

"If this is a coincidence, I've probably walked into something I don't want to know about." he rumbled, deadpanning.