"I can think of a few fun endings." He answered to the Asari  with a sly smirk, only distinguishable because of the form of his eyes. Still, he moved aside to let that new partner take a seat and remained silent on the subject of the fish sticks. He had his suspicion confirmed as to the nature of the sticks thanks to Sicari serving as a guinea pig. Too bad, he enjoyed good dextro fish sticks, not ridiculously messy to eat like... anything else. In fact, he just liked meat, not as much for the taste as to confirm his own success. Quarian diet was generally vegan, no meat on ships, vegetables gave more calories compared to the energy required to produce it.

As Simbel saw the Salarian approach however, he became silent, his VI scanning the newcomer. He wasn't a merc like them, he was people, with a life and a family. Visibly 'Chryseis' had done her home work. But still, he wasn't sure he liked his attitude. That and there was something that really bugged him. Oh it wasn't the fact that she threatened the life of the poor man and that of his entire family, he didn't care about that, no, it was about the payment.

Without warning, Simbel's robotic hand unceremoniously yanked off the papers from Sicari's hand before they could disappear under her arm. He passed the document to his left hand. "Oh don't worry, might as well delete this one if you're going to be the leader in this operation, plenty of time to look at the real thing if you take point, but see, there's the small matter of my special compensation..."

He turned his gaze to the paper but still had her mechanized limb at the ready to intercept any hand trying to grab his neck and snap a wrist. He didn't know this Turian but she seemed like someone easily pissed. He looked back at her and threw the paper on the table. "Unacceptable. Either you girls give me half the payment or we make mission expenses common. That or I'm a glorified cab driver and I go follow you on foot. No way I'm taking out my gunship for pocket change like that." Seventy-Five-Thousand credz alone was more than a lot of mercs did in a year but what people struggled to understand was how the trigger Simbel pressed basically shot money. The twin machineguns shot so fast he had to change the coolers almost at every mission and add a block of titanium to be shredded for ammo since he could actually run out of them quite easily, something that practically never happens to a rifle, and that was without counting the missiles which were 15,000 credits a piece. His profit was heavily dependent on how stingy he was on ammunition, on the worst contracts he actually stood to LOSE money! He didn't know of his colleagues here, but for him a half a million contract was hardly anything impressive.

He looked at the two eye candy around him. "So, what will it be?"

[OOC: Basically if you think gunship would be overkill at first, feel free to tell him he's walking.]