[center][b][ S a r n e l l a ||| T i r a n e ][/b][/center]

On the exterior, Sarnella was as composed as the person next to her. Inside, she was buzzing with nervousness. She was never a fan of these military ceremonies. She thought they were too flashy and too impersonal to ever mean anything. Every single time she had to participate in one of these ceremonies, her and her colleagues would commiserate about the uselessness of such things afterward, with the exception of funeral and memorial services.

She snapped upright and brought her hand to her brow in a salute. She wasn't sure who exactly she was saluting, though she supposed the gesture was directed towards the audience: a mix of politicians, reporters, and who knows who else. The thought that a salute might be going to people who weren't necessarily deserving of her respect disappointed her, but she would play this game so long as these people provided something for the fight against the Reapers.

As she stood with her hand frozen above her eyes, she wondered what her group must look like from the other side. She imagined the most mismatched group she could; Krogan physique next to Volus, her own purple skin juxtaposed with the gray Turian beside her. Did they look imposing and inspirational or absolutely ridiculous? It wouldn't matter; she had read all their files, and she knew the people aboard this vessel were all very capable. She had familiarized herself with their histories, abilities, and duties aboard the ship. It was her job to know the capabilities of those around her. Their lives often depended on it.

Nikolas Kruschov concluded his speech and, as rehearsed, the crew made their way into the ship. Sarnella joined the queue of crewmen making their way through the airlock, each one only needing a second to be decontaminated by the scanner (the Citadel was very clean to begin with). Upon entering the body of the ship, a familiar feeling stirred inside her bones. The sleek interior, the glowing control interfaces, and the elaborate construction of the Command Center brought her back to her Thessian military days. It held the promise of two things: danger and dedication. The first Sarnella could handle. The second she depended on. She desperately needed something to devote herself to; her last three years of aimless existence had nearly driven her insane. The jitters rattling her bones were a thing of excitement, not apprehension.

She noticed a group of aliens forming off to the side. She noticed that it was a rather hilarious poster image of the cooperation the project was trying to promote. She considered making her way over to join them, but she figured there were enough in the group already. Sarnella decided to make her way to her station instead. There was a metal ring in the center of the Command Center. It had several control panels built into it and a large projection system bolted to the floor. She fiddled with the buttons. A large holographic map of the galaxy beamed up into the space above the metal ring. She gave a nod of approval and assumed her position at the main panel, looking up from the control interface every now and then to watch the group of Combat Specialists conversing a few feet away.