[@Indy Cooper]
 A dangerous looking man dressed in dark leathers wove his way through the crowd. He had purple tinted tawny skin and long, braided black hair that exposed slightly pointed ears. He walked stiffly, heading for the nearest medical tent. His mismatched gold an violet eyes had slitted pupils that contracted and expanded in response to the varying shades if light and dark that he passed through. At almost seven feet in height, he stood a good deal talker than most who walked the streets.

The Ga'iyan male sighed as he entered the shade of the tent, bending to avoid the top of the entrance. He saw the medic was a Zkz'Karni, and greeted her in a close approximation of her own tongue, which had been the hardest for him to learn. Unlike most people, he knew that the Zkz'Karni were more than the stupid beasts that people often thought them to be.

[color=bc8dbf]"Could you help me?"[/color] he asked, still in the same tongue.[color=bc8dbf] "I simply cannot get the bullet out of my right leg." [/color]He sat on a cot and rolled up his pantleg to expose the side of his calf. He would have been able to get it out himself if it weren't for the fact that it was at an awkward angle and the blood had made it too slippery.

Stupid, chemical drinking puss bag of a human had been high on whatever poison he liked when the son of a cur had shot him. Having had savage discipline as a youth, he knew better than to strike back at a chemmie. They weren't in their right minds when they did or said half the shit they did, so he wasn't inclined to retaliate anyway. You could only punish the insane to a certain extent before justice became cruelty.