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Following the drunken escapades of the night before, Sicaria and Rykarn had managed to find themselves to a hotel and rented a room.  Somewhere along the line, the two had both passed out on the single bed, naked and sweaty from nasty things that had happened due to a combination of Sicaria's libido and the alcohol in both of their systems.  The following morning, the Turian was the first of the pair to wake up.

Having fallen asleep on her stomach, she awoke with her mandible pressed firmly against a pillow.  She took a moment to open her eyes, pupils constricted to the extreme as she felt the dull throb of a familiar migraine coming.  With a defeated groan, she surrendered to the impending headache that usually came with hangovers, wincing visibly as it hit her.  It was definitely worse than getting shot, but she was a rogue soldier, it was something she was used to by now.  Even with the tunnel vision specifically affecting her right eye, she pushed herself up and slipped her legs up under her chest, letting the limbs slide over the side of the bed before sitting up properly.  Almost like she was trying to shake off the drinks from last night, she shook her head a couple times, regretting the action immediately as she felt her brain practically rattling around inside her skull.

She planted both feet on the ground and stood up on shaky legs, taking a few experimental steps before stumbling over to the bathroom.  It took her a little while to get there, given she could barely walk, but she made it and started up the shower the second she got there, turning the faucet far in a counterclockwise direction.  In the meantime, she took the chance to check her omni-tool, an action she regretted very quickly as she saw dozens of messages and missed calls from the same person.  With a moment of thought, she inhaled deeply before pressing the button to call her back.

It rang for a solid few seconds before the voice of Vetia Indarian answered.  [color=maroon]”...Hello?”[/color]  There was a level of annoyance in her voice that made it clear she had been awoken by the call.

[color=92278f]”Hey Vetia, I got all your messages, just wanted to che-”[/color]

[color=maroon]”SICARIA!  I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!  For Spirit’s sake, you can’t just disappear after a fight like that!”[/color]

[color=92278f]”Hey, I’m sorry babe, I was distracted with the afterparty.”[/color]

[color=maroon]”Afterparty?  Oh for the love of… who’d you fuck this time and how drunk were you?”[/color]

[color=92278f]”One of the Krogan on the team, his name’s Rykarn.  And I have probably the worst hangover I’ve had since Saren went rogue.”[/color]

[color=maroon]”Wait, you fucked a Krogan?  Sicaria, I… I’m not sure I’m okay with that.  You know my mom was killed by Bloodpack mercs.”[/color]

[color=92278f]”Vetia, he’s a nice guy, and he isn’t related to any gangs.  Stop worrying about it.”[/color]

[color=maroon]”Sicaria you aren’t seeing the point here, he could’ve killed you on the spot!  You know how Krogans feel about Turians!  You could be dead right now, it’s a big deal!”[/color]

[color=92278f]”I also could’ve been killed in the tunnels, a husk nicked my arm pretty bad, it could’ve been my neck or chest.  But I’m alive, you’re blowing this out of proportion, babe.”[/color]

[color=maroon]”Don’t call me babe, anymore.  You’ve crossed the line, Sicaria.  I was okay with everything else, hell I enjoyed most of it, but a Krogan’s the limit!  Goodbye, Velinian.  Have a nice life!”[/color]  With that, the call was dropped, leaving a shocked Sicaria on the other end with a new emptiness gnawing at her.

Like she was autopilot at this point, she went through a routine of morning activities, from showering, to recovering her armor and weapons and heading out.  Her training had taken over, stone-cold outside but a hurricane of emotions inside, becoming something so unlike her normal self, becoming a typical Turian.  Before she knew it, she found herself walking away from the hotel and towards the rendezvous point, which was one of the many old and converted police stations of London.  Scotland Yard or something like that, she couldn’t remember the exact name at the moment, but the location wasn’t an issue.

She pushed all other thoughts to the side as she climbed the stairs, rifle drawn as she approached the site where everyone else had been gathering.  Quite frankly, the only ones that would probably notice something being off with her would be Ja’Far, Rykarn, Phalanx, and maybe one of the Spectres if they knew her profile well.  She offered little besides a wave to everyone before she stood off to the side, leaning on a conveniently placed crate and staying oddly silent.