[h2][b]Left Fork
Hazan[/b][/h2]

[indent]Bringing up the rear, Hazan had every reason to be late.

In the ensuing chaos, he'd ducked down behind some rocks to take cover. In the midst of all the gunfire and explosions, one must've caught him off guard, because he'd then experienced several minutes of lost time.

The Turian had come to as the fork was just being cleared. The crew was up ahead, picking apart what remained of the defenses there. They were now splitting up; he caught sight of Vellios' lithe figure disappearing down the left with the moving wall and the psychopathic Quarian, and the technical heading down the right. Seeing as how that technical had a machine gun, he figured that he'd go left.

His body ached in a million places. Everything suggested an explosion. Perhaps a stray micro rocket, or a grenade gone unnoticed. He didn't know. He didn't really care. Everyone that had held a gun to their heads back there had gotten shot or blown up. Less problems, less trouble.

Hazan raised his Mattock and provided covering fire from further up the left fork as the Krogan shot forward, all part of some plan they'd come up just then. He peppered the ridges and exposed with gunfire, watching as Tonka tore apart the makeshift defensive wall by himself. Vellios and Kasyra were hanging back, doing the same as he was; covering the sentient tank. As the Krogan tore apart the last of the Batarians holding the line, Hazan stowed his rifle, drew his shotgun and jogged back up towards Vellios.

[color=dodgerblue]"Sorry for being late. I think I got blindsided by a rocket or some shit. Got knocked clean out. Everything hurts. But let me take point. Make up for my lost time. I think I won't be earning my cut of our pay otherwise."[/color][/indent]