[h3][i]Introductions[/i]: III[/h3] [hr][i]Starring:[/i] [@Auz], [@Lucky] and [@Lauder] [hr] It had been two days since his meeting with the newly formed krogan council and even though Tak had gotten his way, he still seethed in anger. They had taken to the position of authority too quickly, adapting and utilising the underhanded tactics of their former masters. The promise of a great and honourable clan was falling by the wayside, leaving Tak to think selfishly. Stuck in a state of internal thought, the krogan had entered the ship unaware of any who were already inside. He had taken the encounter with his brethren so personally that he hadn’t slept in all that time, leaving him determined to find a room. [i]Next to the armoury.[/i] He thought to himself. It didn’t take long, the ship wasn’t exactly a maze and the signage was clear enough. Tak found and entered a room that was basically next door to their future arms cache, not even bothering to look around. He just dropped his bag on the ground allowing some of the books inside to spill out. There was more to bring in but he just wanted a moment to try and relax. “Takaror Corr,” a Geth voice speaks out as it registered the Krogan’s presence. “Welcome to the W-178. This domicile has been vacant and open for claiming. We are allowing a first-come first-serve basis. Would you like to claim this room?” Tak’s right arm instinctively reached behind his lower back, gripping the stock of his Spike Thrower. Nothing in the air had changed, he could feel no other being in the room and there was something about the way it spoke that was off. “Reveal yourself voice.” “My name is Seraph. I am a pilot for the W-178, a Geth uploaded into its internal systems. We are, effectively, crewmates.” There is a pause as if its attention seems to be elsewhere momentarily. “Physically, I am nothing more than software but I will be inhabiting a Prime platform for field use. Or if you mean where my voice is projecting from, check the back right corner ceiling for the speaker.” [i]Machine.[/i] The image of a flashlight looking head flew by in Tak’s mind. He was yet to face such a foe in battle and although the tank had taught him about their creation by the quarians, there was no feeling for the krogan to latch on to. Tak released the end of his gun, relaxing his stance and straightening up. “This room is mine, is there anything you require of me?” “Negative, Takaror. I will mark this room as claimed for you. The Captain is not expected for another hour. Is there anything I can do to help you settle in?” The Krogan gave a final look around the room, still not quite sure how it was that it was speaking but making a mental note to research the Geth in more depth later. Using his foot, he slid his bag along the floor, removing his weapons and lying down. “No.” “Understood,” the Geth is gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving the Krogan to its silence. [hr] The floor of the Weiro was cold and uninviting, obviously it wasn’t a place made to take a nap but considering Tak’s size there was no point even trying to sleep on the bed that had been left in the room. Not that it mattered too much, the krogan had slept in worse places and it was never where he slept that was the issue, it was his dreams that bothered him. In his nightmares, picture after picture was thrown at him, assaulting Tak’s mind with gruesome images of war and death. It was a remnant from his time spent learning in the tank, a parting gift from their old leader Fortack, meant to drive him to crush the rebels' supposed enemies. A barbaric tactic that worked all too well as even though the giant krogan slept, he could feel the void inside begin to call out to him. There was an abrupt change, a momentary pause in the assault before pictures of quarians began to appear. Old images of polonium rounds puncturing their suits in splashes of vivid greens, others of their masks being removed in toxic atmospheres while they violently choked to death and finally, pictures of their old, decrepit ships being torn asunder. Tak could resist the call of the void no longer, shooting up off the ground violently to a seated position and reaching for his Spike Thrower. Adrenaline boiled his blood as he hopped up onto his feet, scanning around his room, not even realising where he was. Something in the air had changed, a new smell hung above the crusty scent of the ship, something sterile, yet stale at the same time. As it drew near, Tak realised what it was, why his dream had changed. It was a quarian. There was a knock at the door. Tak took a set of deep breaths in and out, laying down the oversized shotgun, composing himself before moving towards the door and opening it. In front him stood the substantially smaller figure of a quarian, looking down at her Omni-Tool for the moment. Then, she realized that the krogan was standing in front of her, she looked up and silently gazed at the tank-bred krogan up and down for a moment before she cleared her throat. Her form was fitted nicely with her suit of red, yellow, and black, with the only contrast of her appearance being that of the purple visor. She tucked her arms behind her back as she greeted the krogan happily, “Hello! Takaror Corr, I presume? I am Sosa’Numos nar Suram and I am your captain.” Her form hopped up and down a few times before she spoke a tad absentmindedly, “Keelah, they did not tell me the krogan were this big.” [i]Captain?[/i] She was so… tiny and her voice was almost innocent in nature. Tak’s eyes darted momentarily to his hand, he could easily wrap it around her helmet two times over. Somewhere deep inside he felt the void rumble as the image of the helmetless quarian reappeared in his mind. [i]Crush.[/i] The krogan took half a step back, balling up his claws into a fist. This was his body, it would do as he commanded. “Is there anything you require of me?” Sosa’Numos thought to herself for a brief moment before speaking once more, “No, I just felt the need to meet my crew. After all, we are going to be stuck on this ship.” The quarian shifted her weight to the side as she looked at Tak, noting how he balled his hands into fists on the off chance that quickly became relevant. She had no weapon on her, at least none that Tak could see on her form. Sosa’Numos continued to stare at him for a moment before asking, “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?” “I am here to kill our enemies.” The krogan replied without missing a beat, only pausing after catching a quick glimpse of himself in the reflection of Sosa’s visor. “There may be more I am capable of but what that is, I do not know.” “Surely, you must have a hobby?” the Captain asked, inquisitively stepping forward a singular stride as she stared at him. Her head tilted to the side as she once more looked him over, almost noting each of his features before she stepped back to her original place as she realized that she was invading his space. “Is there anything you like to do with your free time?” She asked. This was a strange line of questioning, even during his time in C-sec the other aliens had strayed from Tak’s presence almost as soon as he entered a room. Perhaps this was a quarian tactic, a feint designed to test her subordinates, he had noticed the Captain take a step towards him. Sosa’Numos and her kind were known for exploiting a weakness in the Geth to initiate a war during the Reaper conflict. Tak subtly widened his stance just in case. “I submitted to a full evaluation with your superiors. My council presented an additional report on my combat experience. I assure you, I have no such weaknesses.” “Weakness?” Sosa’Numos echoed, tilting her head to the side a bit as she was legitimately confused by such a statement and so she stood there silently for a moment. The quarian brought her arms to her side and her posture shifted into one far more proper and professional as her head straightened itself. She stared down the krogan in silence for a moment as the moments passed, though that aura of innocence seemed to fade away quickly. It seemed that whatever false personality that Sosa’Numos had, disappeared. “Then you only know to fight, to kill?” She asked, her once bubbly voice shifted to one of an emotionless tone. The krogan almost smiled as the true nature of his Captain came out. The sudden shift in personality reminded him of the cunning character of Fortack, leaving Tak relieved at the similarity. At least now he understood. “It is all I have been used for.” “And I can trust that you will do as commanded by me?” Sosa’Numos inquired. “Yes, but choose foes worthy of death, I wish to kill with honour.” There was no inflection or change in his voice, whether the captain knew it or not, this was a warning. “I have read your file, I do not intend on making that mistake, Mister Corr,” the quarian answered, no movement on her except for the subtle rise and lowering of her chest as she breathed. The captain allowed for another moment of silence to pass before she spoke once more in that same emotionless tone, asking, “Now, do you have any questions or requests of me?” “Avoid war with this ship. It is old, lightly armoured and ill equipped for battle.” Tak turned, picking up his Spike Thrower and returning it to its rightful place on the back of his armour. Retreating further back into his new abode he paused for a brief moment. “Tak, this is what you may call me.” The krogan deemed her honesty worthy of knowing something personal. Time would tell if the quarian would be a worthwhile leader but this was a good start. “Very well, Tak. I look forward to seeing if you live up to your reports. Be ready for our first assignment,” Sosa’Numos stated before she turned away and walked down the hallway, arms folded behind her back. Quickly, her posture returned to that as when she had greeted Tak, returning to how the other crew knew her to be. The giant space reptile shut the door behind the captain, bending down to pick up his bags and books. Once all neatly packed on shelves he would go to collect the rest of his training equipment, which was nothing more than an assortment of bars and weights. Though before he could do so, his senses began to stir once again. A familiar scent mixed with the heat of rage and aggression wafted through the vents causing Tak’s hearts to beat rapidly. His bones began to ache as the voids call rose like the opening number of a symphony. There was a natural born on board.