[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/2d02e9a8-9e38-40af-addf-8e2aa767737e.png[/img]
[color=SteelBlue][h3]Rave "The Shadow" Mallard[/h3]
Frixion Prime[/color][/center]

[center][@FrankenDaughter][/center]

Rave sighed as she projected her thoughts and shook his head. [color=SteelBlue]"That's what I was created to do, what other Ghosts and Spectres are created to do, to break and kill those without our talents. The difference is that Spectres are more aware of what we do, we have more of a choice. Ghosts...they're like slaves, though under Valerian's leadership, Ghosts are beginning to understand what they're doing more readily, where as before it was mindwipes after every mission, with hardly any idea of what the missions they were doing were about after the fact."[/color] Picking up a fry, he dips it in the ranch before eating it and chews slowly while thinking. It was difficult to explain what things were like without taking her there, and even that wouldn't be enough, as things were still in flux. Never mind that he didn't trust that Broodmother not to make a play for some new DNA from her.

[color=SteelBlue]"In all honesty, the only Terrans I've seen a Protoss do that to is those who they're fighting or the Ghosts who go prying where they shouldn't. They used to have this strong mental link called the Khala, it allowed them to communicate and share everything basically instantly as well as keep track of each other over great distances. While they remain powerful Psionics, they've since lost the Khala due to a dangerous and powerful foe, too long a story to get into."[/color] He fell silent once again and then reached out, looking for the location of the arms dealer's shop amongst the minds of those around them. He'd brought around two dozen spare clips for his AGR and his C-150, but it never hurt to find someone who knew how to fabricate more ammo.