[center][b][i]A collab between Birb and I.[/i][/b][/center]

As a collection of Alliance troops started to clear the tunnel and rescue the failing squadron that was Katabasis, Sicaria lowered her weapon and let them take care of whatever was left in the now sealed off chamber.  With little else to do now, she took her captive scientist by the arm and started heading towards the light.  There was probably something incredibly symbolic about this action, she disregarded it as a few injuries made themselves known now that the adrenaline was wearing off.  [color=92278f]"Ugh, can't believe I didn't notice that earlier..."[/color]  Though she couldn't quite see it, she could feel some kind of wound on her right arm start to pulse.

While she surfaced, she tossed the Cerberus woman into the hands of a couple marines before removing the makeshift mask that had arguably saved her life.  She brought the strip of cloth down from her face before turning it over and finding it caked with a mixture of various colors of blood and a consistent earthy brown the whole thing over.  [color=92278f]"Shit, I'm gonna be coughing this up for a week."[/color]  She chucked to herself slightly, which broke into a fit of coughing with a small brownish cloud getting pushed out of her mouth with each hack.  On top of that, an amount of phlegm was sent out and onto the ground along with the last one in a series of around eight.  Following this, she started to pat down her armor to remove whatever grime had accumulated on it from the explosions, including a quick wipe of the hands across her face to show off her tattoos again.

The sound of a pressure seal breaking emerged from Sicaria's flank, and into view walked a now familiar krogan, battered and bloodied armour dominating his frame and his helmet in hand. It was the first time any of Katabasis would see his face. [color=gray]"I don't know what you're complaining about, I'm fine."[/color] he said cheekily, inhaling the relatively clean London air with a deep lungful and letting out an exaggerated sigh. [color=gray]"Hell of a fight. Been too long since I've been in a scrap like that. You?"[/color] he asked.

Everything happened in such a blur leading up to this moment. It felt like it had only been minutes ago when the team had reestablished the line after blowing the charges, and now they were relieved by local authorities and Systems Alliance troops that had been stationed semi-permanently in the city since the war. The entire team looked weary; it was quite the unexpected first assignment, no one had expected to see the Reapers again. It had been quite a few months before his own sweeps had unearthed anything. How in the hell did Cerberus wrangle up over two thousand Husks? It would be a rather interesting after-action report, to say the least.

The Turian looked up in time to see one of the Krogan pass by, already taking his helmet off and bearing a few new scars from the conflict they had just muscled through.  She had to roll her eyes at the first comment he made, though she pulled back her left mandible in a smirk at the second one.  [color=92278f]"Last time I got sent into a hellhole like that was that conquest to take back Earth.  I would've liked a couple years before reliving that, but, well, here we are."[/color]  She visibly splayed both the appendages on the side of her face in the equivalent of a shrug before checking her wounded arm.  Quite the gash had been opened up in the top of it, probably from when the Infiltration Team had been retreating and a husk had made a grab at her.  Turns out it made contact after all.  [color=92278f]"Wouldn't have any medi-gel on you, by chance?"[/color]  She gave the Krogan a look that suggested a general lack of urgency for the circumstances.

[color=gray]"'fraid not. I tend to just let my regeneration do the dirty work, others don't usually factor into it. Hang on, I've got something."[/color] he said, breaking off to stomp towards a pair of humans wearing paramedic fatigues. While Sicaria was out out earshot, the startled body expressions of the heavily armed and armoured krogan bearing down on the much smaller humans was unmistakable. A few moments later, he returned with a package in hand, offering it over. [color=gray]"Turns out they were going to make the rounds anyways. I guess I just sped things up."[/color] he said with a shrug. An empty thermal clip made its way loose from between his armour plating on his arm, it certainly accounted for the burning smell that had been persistent since he took his helmet off. He looked at Sicaria with a somewhat piqued interest. [color=gray]"I fought here in the last few months of the war, for another Specter, as a matter of fact. You and I both know what would have happened if those freaks got out of the tunnels and to the surface."[/color]

Sicaria took the gel and nodded her thanks to the Krogan, breaking open the package and slathering some of the cool material on her arm.  The bleeding stopped within seconds thanks to it, and she tied off what was left of the medicine in the bag before setting it down.  At this point, she noticed the burning smell and the clip that had found its way out of his armor.  [color=92278f]"...I''m not gonna ask how that got caught in there."[/color]  She found curb to take a seat on while she listened to the Krogan speak, and let her long legs spill out into the barren street while Anderson was getting in position to address the team.  [color=92278f]"I was in Vancouver for about two weeks... I'm sure the city was beautiful before the Reapers showed up, but I was surprised that most of the buildings were left standing.  It was like they were trying to preserve most of them.  But yeah, lotta people would've died if we didn't go down there."[/color]

The krogan shrugged, a largely immobile object in a suddenly dynamic environment as bodies fluttered about. [color=gray]"Honestly, everywhere I've lived for any length of time has been destroyed by war. Tuchanka, Anhur, Earth. It all starts to look the same after a while, only difference is the Reapers didn't tend to flatten cities when there was harvesting to be done."[/color] he replied to the turian, following the violet lines of her facial tattoos that crossed her carapace. Beside them, Anderson was rounding the team up for a debriefing. [color=gray]"Oh, this will be good."[/color] he said, offering a hand to help Sicaria to her feet.

The two joined the others as the Spectres began their speech, the human of the two taking the lead. The standard expected ground was covered, 24 hours to get shit squared away and say goodbye to Earth, this was the last chance to back out, be at the designated coordinates or be left out. Rykarn was only half listening; he was already committed to the mission and didn't have anything worth mentioning to deal with before going off on a potentially dangerous and certainly exciting assignment with the Spectres, who always seemed to find the interesting jobs on account of an utter lack of red tape and accountability. As a krogan, it spelled out a good time.

Less so was the news that the explosion, the one Rykarn had a direct hand in setting off, collapsed an apartment building and potentially killed 11 people. The krogan didn't really react past a slow blink, his amber eyes not betraying any emotion past the usual reptilian-like stare that made all krogan look about as friendly as being held up by a shotgun. It was a damn shame, of course. You don't go through the most deadly and genocidal war in galactic history and expect to die a year later via violent building collapse, but this was on Cerberus. If the Husks got out, things would have been a lot worse, especially since it could be days, if not weeks, before all of the monsters were accounted for. Katabasis were, supposedly, professional soldiers and mercenaries and they'd barely survived the onslaught. Some elderly woman crossing the street wouldn't fare as well trying to get away from the Husks. Or school yards full of children. Anything, really. The really annoying thing about the Reapers' thralls were that they never tired, and seemed to be endless in number. It's why Rykarn was rather fond of explosions. Even if they weren't fully disabled, it was a lot harder to chew your ankles off if you only had one arm to pull yourself along and half a torso. 

Even if everyone had been in the building at the time, and if Rykarn knew it, he still would have triggered the explosion. A handful of casualties was the price of a war that didn't have a firm ending date, considering the enemy they faced. As far as Rykarn was concerned, the war probably wouldn't be over until every last Husk was exterminated from the galaxy. Who knew when that would be? 

Partinax and Anderson dismissed everyone to go file their report. It certainly killed the spoils of victory.

[color=gray]"Uplifting."[/color] he grunted to the turian next to him.

Sicaria had grabbed the Krogan's hand when he offered it, standing back up at the protest of her sore legs.  While she had done it for most of her life, there was something about running through a horde of husks that made someone unusually fatigued.  [color=92278f]"Thanks..."[/color]  In step with her companion, she joined the others in listening to the Spectres.

For her, there wasn't much shock, Turian culture often demanded sacrifices for the greater good.  It was bad enough that civilians had to die, let alone a child, but that's how it was.  Just another psychological scar on an already marred mind.  Without much ceremony, the two Spectres left to finish their business.

[color=92278f]"Something like that... hey, I never got your name.  Mine's Sicaria."[/color]  The Turian crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her left leg, head turning to get a better look at the Krogan beside her.  He certainly wasn't ancient, or frankly that old by their standards, though numerous scars coated what she could see that wasn't obstructed by armor.  He had been through hell and back like all of them, it seemed.

The large crested head nodded curtly. [color=gray]"Rykarn of Clan Ravanor. I've found with aliens, I need to specify that's my clan name and not my first name. Apparently there's some confusion, or ignorance about krogan no matter where you go."[/color] he grinned tersely. [color=gray]"At least it's not a salarian name; pretty sure they name their kids down to the street they were born on and what the mother was eating when she popped out a clutch of eggs."[/color]

The distinctive sound of a Turian chuckle followed Rykarn's generalization about Salarians, even though she didn't exactly see it the same way.  She did understand that line of thought, though.  [color=92278f]"Didn't you have half a generation of females named after a certain Salarian biologist?"[/color]  A mandible was pulled in a smirk once again, though she quickly let it fall back into cover the side of her mouth.

The krogan grunted in exasperation.  [color=gray]"Don't remind me. Go to Tuchanka any time in the next decade, and anything adolescent is probably going to be named after that guy. You might be able to convince some people you're clairvoyant if you guess right."[/color], he shook his head, looking at where the emergency crews were working at excavating the collapsed building. [color=gray]"You know, I spent the last year rebuilding this stupid city. Never thought I'd be the one trashing it again. I feel obligated to help."[/color] 

Sicaria nodded in response, shifting her weight between legs once again.  [color=92278f]"Yeah, we probably should help out.  Make up for the kid we killed, at the very least."[/color]  Without waiting for a cue, she started off in the direction of the wrecked building, finally remembering to deactivate her tech armor while she went.  [color=92278f]"Not sure if anyone's brought it up yet, but I wanna thank your people for saving Palaven.  None of my higher-ups will admit it, but you really pulled our asses out of the fire."[/color]  She stated, her hands finding their ways to the top of her head while she walked.

Rykarn walked in pace, eyes darting about has they walked towards the blinking emergency lights and sirens. Situational awareness was something that became hardwired into someone after literal decades of conflict; it wasn't something you just turned off. When Sicaria thanked the krogan, and in extension Rykarn, for their part in liberating Palaven, that caught him off guard. He wasn't used to being thanked for much, and a turian expressing sincere gratitude for help, unprompted no less, was most unexpected. [color=gray]"Your people helped us cure the genophage, it bought a lot of goodwill."[/color] the krogan replied, a single eye looking back at Sicaria. 

[color=gray]"I'm not like a lot of krogan and blame turians who are alive for unleashing that nightmare on my people, but some of my kin are. You might have been desperate for help to help us do that before we helped you, but it did a lot to build our trust. We were free, for the first time in centuries, and believe me, krogan love killing monsters and being celebrated for it. Killing rachni all over again made me feel connected to my ancestors."[/color] Rykarn let out a low, rumbling chuckle, bemused at the connection he'd long ago made as he unleashed hell on Ravagers. [color=gray]"I never expected I'd ever step foot on the turian homeworld, let alone fight alongside your people, but it turns out we both are really good at fighting. All these years being pitted against each other, hell, look at what we did when we were aiming the same way. I respect you turians; you gave us krogan a second chance and you ate your pride enough to ask us for help, no matter the cost. Mighty praise coming from a species renown for considering the inhalation of an entire company a victory if the bad guy dies first."[/color]  he said, smashing his fist into an open palm. [color=gray]"We even smashed moons, actual moons! Into your colonies and that just made you fight harder. Made me curious about humans, though. Relay 314 incident and the new kid on the block gives you a bloody nose."[/color]

At the mention of a bloody nose, Sicaria unconsciously scratched some dried blood from her upper lip, though let out a short laugh otherwise.  [color=92278f]"Yeah, we underestimated humanity.  They're tougher than we thought, whole thing shouldn't've happened."[/color]  She sighed happily, almost as if she was reliving a fond memory while talking about their first contact with Humans.  [color=92278f]"You're right about that, though.  You hit us, we hit back harder.  And it just keeps going until someone's either knocked out or dead on the floor."[/color]  With a smirk returning, she looked up at the night sky while she walked.  After a short moment of silence, jabbed two fingers of her right hand up towards the emptiness overhead.  [color=92278f]"Reapers learned that the hard way."[/color]

[color=gray]"They're dead. We ain't. Superior species, my ass. Only thing that made them worth anything was the billions of lives they harvested. I wouldn't feel bad about the humans taking a hit and dishing one back harder; it was a human that united the galaxy and personally killed off the Reapers. Who would have thought? Been around the galaxy less than four decades and they're the ones that fix everything."[/color] Rykarn said, following Sicaria's  gesture upwards. It was hard to make out any stars in the glowing noise of the city lights drowned out the sky beyond, but the gesture got the point across. [color=gray]"So, what do you think happens now? Humans have the Citadel parked at their doorstep and they've been pushing their way up the food chain like, well, we tried to. Won't be long until the entire galaxy's back to shooting at each other."[/color]

[color=92278f]"Now?  Now, everyone else gets back to living while we pick up the dirty work."[/color]  The Turian looked back down as she started to descend into the sizable crater they had managed to create not even an hour ago.  Up close, the building they had taken down was still crumbling slowly, bits of dust and rubble falling from what was left standing.  She had to hand it to them, Humans could build solid structures, but it would be a matter of time until the last standing walls were bulldozed and replaced.  [color=92278f]"Doesn't really matter where the Citadel is, though.  It was considered Asari space until the Salarians found it.  Even then, they ended up with equal influence, not much of a reason for it to change now."[/color]

The building looked like an entrapment and deadly hazard if Rykarn had ever seen one. It would be terribly ironic if this was what did him in after everything he'd been through to cause the collapse. [color=gray]"Oh, it matters. Imagine if the Citadel was in the Terminus Systems, or even the Traverse. Everything would start to gravitate around those regions, and all of the bullcrap that comes with it."[/color] Rykarn said, shaking his head. [color=gray]"Used to be the Citadel was parked right next door to the original Council races' territory. Everyone had to go to [I]them[/I]. Now it's stuck in the Sol system with a few relay jumps through human space to get to it. Add that with the fact that it was humans that saved the Citadel when Sovereign attacked, delaying the Reaper invasion for a few years, and that it was the humans that united the galaxy to crush the Reapers... well, you'd be ignorant to think that someone's not going to try to take advantage of that. Just wait until talks about relocating the station come up. The smiles hide the knives, is all I'm saying."[/color]

Sicaria took a moment to think before responding, carefully taking steps towards the rescue team that was already on site.  Things were already bad enough here, and she didn't wanna be responsible for destabilizing what foundation there was left.  The distinct flanging on her voice broke the silence after a long moment.  [color=92278f]"Never heard that before, but you've got a point.  Humans do have the greatest influence on what's left of the galaxy, but if everyone ends up looking out for themselves like you say, the Council vote's still gonna be three to one."[/color]  Her mandibles stretched again as the pair got closer to where excavations were taking place.  [color=92278f]"Yeah, Asari would want it put back for historical reasons, Salarians to take a tactical advantage away.  We'd go for it either out of spite since our Councilor was alive during Relay 314, or for the same reason as Salarians.  Humans are the only ones that directly benefit from the Citadel being this close, no one else will allow it."[/color]

[color=gray]"Of course not, but that doesn't mean everyone's going to play by the rules. Call me paranoid, but being cast as the galaxy's villain for centuries gives us krogan a rather pessimistic outlook on galactic affairs."[/color] Rykarn said, zeroing in on an officer who looked like they were coordinating the rescue efforts. [color=gray]"I mean, I'm fine with passing that particular torch off to someone else for a while."[/color] he said, approaching the officer. who was going through some blueprints on a table, a pistol and a thermos holding both ends open. Rykarn was surprised; people actually kept paper copies of things still?

The man looked up. "Can I help you?"

[color=gray]"No. But we can help you. I can lift things that you'd need heavy equipment to do, and you don't run the risk of trashing tens of thousands of credits worth of gear if the rubble shifts on me. My companion is equally prepared to lend a hand."[/color] The krogan said.

[color=92278f]"Mhmm, I'm light enough to not disturb anything and I can get in those hard to reach places.  I have some light biotics if they're needed, by the way."[/color]  Taking a short moment to pause, she sat down on the remains of a block that had gone into the whole of the building.  She then leaned forward and clasped her hands together, looking up at the Human that was in charge.  [color=92278f]"So do we know where the last eleven are?  Or are we taking shots in the dark at this point?"[/color]

"Shots in the dark, I'm afraid. Different floors, different sides of the buildings. They could be anywhere." The man said, resigned. "Look, I'm not supposed to let just anyone on the site, it's dangerous... but the emergency crews are spread thin. I want to say yes, but..."

Rykarn dug into a compartment on his armour and produced an identification chit. [color=gray]"Official enough? I've been here on contract since the war ended to assist in rebuilding after the war. This is a part of that contract."[/color] the krogan said. The officer took the chit, looked it over, and looked visibly relieved. 

"Well, at least you know the risks. Go on, then, but please, for the love of god, be careful." the officer said, gesturing towards the entryway in the hastily erected barricade. Rykarn lead Sicaria through and soon enough, they were standing on what was more or less the side of the building. The whole thing looked like the ground tried to swallow it and choked. He gestured at the opposite corner. [color=gray]"There's some loose shit over there that doesn't look too busy. I'd say that's a good place to start."[/color]

Now even closer to the site of destruction, Sicaria let out a low whistle in both admiration and guilt.  [color=92278f]"We really fucked up... but yeah, let's get to work on this.  With any luck, they're all holed up in an apartment that didn't collapse in on itself."[/color]  The Turian cracked her knuckles before heading for the corner indicated by Rykarn, her arms turning a pleasant purple while she started to ready some controlled biotics.  She wasn't the strongest with them, but she had the control expected of a Cabal.

Once close enough, she started to clear away and relocate layers of rubble, watching closely for signs of a coming collapse or human-shaped figures.  Whichever came first, really.

The duo worked for over half-an hour before speaking again when Rykarn paused moving his pile of rubble by hand without sign of a casualty, just a few picture frames and a pulverized couch thus far. He became curious about Sicaria's biotics; it was rare for a turian to have them. [color=gray]"So, biotics. Don't turians segregate biotics from society? You're one of the few I've ever seen."[/color] he said, hurling a torso-sized chunk of wall towards the perimeter of the ruin with a crash.

Just as Sicaria was starting to feel the strain of extended biotic usage on her, Rykarn finally broke the silence.  She perked up noticably now that she had someone to talk to, and the slowly growing feelings of fatigue faded just as quick as that had come.  [color=92278f]"The Heirarchy does for military purposes, but beyond that, no.  And you don't really see many since Cabals are essentially the Turian equivalent to Asari Justicars, or Krogan Shamans.  Rarely leave our own space, usually keep to ourselves, all that."[/color]

She paused a moment as the next layer of wreckage was cleared away, and a pair of boots showed themselves.  With a triumphant smirk, she turned to the Krogan that was close by.  [color=92278f]"You could call me an exception, in that regard.  I like getting to know people on more... intimate, levels."[/color]  She turned away and rushed towards the pair of footwear that was half-buried, then began to carefully push rubble to the side with her clawed hands.

[color=gray]"Oh? That why you're hanging around me? And here I thought you were just in it to help make amends."[/color] Rykarn replied, grinning as he followed along to see what Sicaria found. [color=gray]"I guess we'll found out soon enough of those are still attached to their owners."[/color] he remarked, taking a knee to help the turian clear away the crap that covered the boots and their potential owner.

It took a few breathless moments of pulling debris away by hand, but soon enough a body that was connected to the boots was uncovered.  The Human was caked in a thick layer of dust and dirt, though from gentle rising and falling of his chest, he was in better shape than most.  [color=92278f]"Stay right here, I'll be back with a couple medics."[/color]  With a light pat on Rykarn's shoulder, she was off and running for the command post.

Not even five minutes later, she was back with the promised paramedics.  While the pair set to work, the Turian took the chance to rest for a moment by crouching down beside the Krogan.  [color=92278f]"Don't know about you, but I need some sleep after this."[/color]  She paused in the line of dialog, dialog, mouth hanging open with a sigh.  [color=92278f]"If I don't have any new nightmares from this, that is."[/color]

Rykarn let out a deep, slow chuckle. [color=gray]"There'll be time to sleep on the bloody ship. I intend to claim what's left on my bar tab. Hell, I'll even be nice and buy you a round or three. Nothing like getting inebriated and tearing up a bar as a send off for a planet. I'm banned from drinking in..."[/color] he drummed his fingers. [color=gray]"Fifteen establishment! Want to make it sixteen? Besides, you can't get nightmares if you don't sleep. Makes sense to me."[/color]

[color=92278f]"Heh, I wouldn't mind getting plastered after this.  I'll take you up on that offer, if you can find anything that won't make me sick right away, that is."[/color]  Sicaria set her hands on her knees and pushed herself up to stand, her omni-tool flashing to life about halfway up.  Without much thought, she looked down and noticed she had a list of messages piled up, all from the same person:  Vetia.

She silently cursed at herself for not checking sooner, though under the circumstances, it would've made sense for her not to.  Well... what's a few more hours of radio silence?  [color=92278f]"Ready whenever you are, Rykarn."[/color]  She spun around on her right foot to face him, awaiting his movement.

[color=gray]"We saved one person. Totally makes up for bringing their house down on their head."[/color] he replied with a shrug. [color=gray]"I know just the place, and it ain't far from here."[/color] he said, navigating his way down the rubble. Moments later, they were out in the streets again, more rescue workers arriving as they were departing, and heading down the street. 

True to his word, within the next fifteen minutes, a familiar building loomed in front of them, the double wooden doors, while old-style and perhaps a bit tacky, were inviting to certain sensibilities. The man puking into a trashcan, the very same one Rykarn had deposited his assailant from earlier, was less inviting. [color=gray]"Welcome to Regent Park Pub. It's one of the first things us city restoration types got up and running after the war because nothing makes a person want to drink away their problems like galactic genocide. There's a few turian regulars, so don't worry about the menu."[/color] he said, leading Sicaria through the doors into the dimly lit establishment, most of the illumination coming from several large vid screens, and to the bar, where Rykarn handed the barkeep his ID. A frothy beer was soon deposited infront of him. 

The krogan grunted. [color=gray]"And there goes my ration limit. Think the Spectres will sponsor an open bar on the ship, or are we stuck eating freeze dried paste for weeks at a time?"[/color] he said, tossing the drink back in a single gulp. 

Sicaria followed her Krogan companion into the pub, not really paying attention to him for a brief moment.  Even if it had been recently rebuilt, it still felt as musty as it probably was three-hundred years ago, though this wasn't an unwelcome feeling.  Up on the vid screens was what anyone would expect of an establishment like this; sporting events, galactic news, and not much else.

She clued back into the conversation as she sat down at the bar, handing over her ID a short second after Rykarn had.  In return, she recieved an oddly colored beverage that would clearly have a similar effect as Ryncol on a Human.  [color=92278f]"You've had to ration alcohol planetside?  There's too much of the stuff on the Citadel, clubs can't sell enough of it."[/color]  Wanting to make the first drink of the night last awhile, she took and experimental sip of hers.


[color=gray]"Kind of. Supply is always hit and miss, the rations were more for the workers. One a day, as long as you show your card. I took a new job, so I'm cut off from the perks of unfucking a city. So you've been living on the Citadel, then? I always found there to be something... off about that place, and I don't mean the fact it was a Reaper death trap in disguise."[/color] Rykarn said, his second drink, this one smelling strongly enough to be confused with medical disinfectant, sliding up. [color=gray]"Everything on the station just feels fake, and some of those wards are less pleasant than some corners of Omega. I like the air planetside, the weather. I also like the idea of not paying for a room only to have the entire thing rearranged by a Keeper when you're sleeping. I hate those things."[/color] 

Taking a much smaller drink this time around, he looked at the turian square on, leaning against the bar. [color=gray]"So, what is it about you that makes Spectres feel you're special compared to all the other suckers currently looking for work who know what end of a gun is the dangerous end?"[/color] he asked.

The Turian paused for a second, eyes flicking to the left corner to watch the Krogan turn to her while she sipped her drink.  She set it down as he finished asking his question, taking a moment to come up with a valid response.  [color=92278f]"Honestly, I don't know.  I'm technically still wanted by the Hierarchy for desertion, maybe it has to do with that."[/color]  She drummed on the counter with her left hand for a brief second, trying to think deeper in the matter.  [color=92278f]"I'm a weak biotic by comparison, might be my record during the Invasion that pulled me into this.  Spent most of it in close quarters with the Reapers, clearing buildings and tunnels.  I think the term Humans use is a tunnel mouse, or something like that."[/color]

[color=gray]"Tunnel rat. Heard that term thrown around a lot when I was clearing out the metro from Husks the past few months"[/color] Rykarn confirmed with a couple short nods. [color=gray]"I'm sure you had your reasons for deserting. Just proves you're one of the few turians who aren't a tightass. So, what exactly did you do during the war?"[/color] Rykarn asked, resting both elbows on the bar counter. [color=gray]"When the war broke out, I returned to Tuchanka to find my brother. Figured if the world's gonna end, might as well be doing it with my own people. I joined my brother's krantt and fought the Reapers there until the genophage was cured, and since you turians helped us out, I'd return the favour so I volunteered to go fight on Palaven, and then off here to London. Been here ever since, worked with a Spectre during the war. Guess he put in a good word for me. That's the long and short of why I'm here, ass deep in Husk corpses and wondering how long it'll be before the asari gets us all killed."[/color] he concluded, his tone bemused. 

Sicaria listened to Rykarn's story in silence, nodding and occasionally taking sips of her drink.  When he finished his tale, she intertwined her fingers and let her hands drop onto the bar.  [color=92278f]"Can't say I moved around that much overall, but I was on vacation in the Caribbean when this started.  I swear, my heart never beat so fast in my life, but I got off world and went straight for Palaven.  I got stationed in Cipritine and I got one order:  Hold the city.  If we found a tunnel they'd carved out to get behind our lines, I went in with two others to clear it.  Someone always died down there, lost some good friends... then you got sent in and our capital's still in one piece after all that.  With Palaven locked down, I got sent to Vacouver for a couple weeks, and it was pretty much the same thing there.  Just with buildings."[/color]  She looked down into her half-finished beverage, falling totally silent while she remembered the faces of those that died beside her.

Rykarn held up his glass. [color=gray]"To the ones we lost along the way."[/color] he toasted, downing the drink. Considering how strong it was, he didn't react much. It was probably an indication of both the strength of what krogan brewed on Tuchanka and how undiscriminating they were when it came to what they consumed. [color=gray]"Sorry about your friends. I've lost a lot of people along the way, too, but I guess it's different for krogan. We've existed for so long with the genophage that most of us gave up on hope for a future, and death's about as common as Aralah rising and setting each day. None of us expect to die of old age... there's some debate whether or not that's even possible for us. Some krogan have been around since the Krogan Rebellions, to give you an idea. We're built to last, but it doesn't mean we do."[/color] he said, pulling a bowl of crunchy stale peanuts towards him. 

[color=gray]"So, I fully expect to die violently and wouldn't have it any other way. Rather not have my four hearts slowly give out or some shit. I don't really know how you non-krogan or asari aliens get anything done in the short lives you have. I'd be a senior citizen if I were a turian, but I'm still in the early stretch of centuries of being in my prime. Plenty of time to work things out... I probably won't even remember this whole Reaper ordeal in a century or two."[/color]

[color=92278f]"To those we lost along the way."[/color]  She threw her head back and downed the rest of her drink in a couple gulps, the glass getting set on the counter immediately afterwards with a distinct, empty clack.  [color=92278f]"And I swear, if you somehow forget all this happened, my spirit will be there to smack the memories back into you."[/color]  Rather than speak in a light-hearted tone, she seemed deathly serious now.  She leaned forward and waved the bartender over, who promptly replaced her drink.

[color=92278f]"Y'know when I said I was gonna get plastered I meant it, right?"[/color]

[color=gray]"Do you remember what happened when you were 12? How about twenty years from now?"[/color] Rykarn asked rhetorically. [color=gray]"To be blunt, the war just put other planets on a similar playing field as Tuchanka has been on since we made the goddamn atomic bomb. Ever since I hatched, all I've known is war-torn hellscapes and survival. Our population never grew, it only decreased. Krogan were always killing each other, and most would be mothers never had a single egg hatch. There were literally hundreds of eggs in my clutch; only my brother and I hatched. If I do remember the Reaper war in a few hundred years out of the countless wars to come, it'll be because the genophage ended."[/color] he said,  signalling for another glass. [color=gray]"Guess that's up to you to make an impression that lasts longer than any of you turians are going to be alive, huh? Maybe leave me a tape. I like movies."[/color]

[color=gray]"But that's hundreds of years from now, why worry about it? What matters now is you fulfill your duty for the greater good and drink with me until my credit account hurts."[/color] He grinned, holding his glass out to cheers. 

[color=92278f]"I will say Rykarn, you make a good point.  I'll make sure to leave you a momento before I die."[/color]  Without much more to say, the odd pair of a Turian and Krogan clinked glasses.  [color=92278f]"Cheers."[/color]