R
Rashuad-012
Guest
The band had dismissed themselves to elsewhere, more or less. As Krusk prepared himself to exit, he was just in time to spot one more suspicious looking human walk into the room. He sensed she was slightly confused, but the quickly faded into her conversation, and that was enough to tell him he was not needed. In fact it appeared everyone aboard the ship present some sense of independence; some had it a bit more boldly than others compared to the captain. With the way some spoke to him it seemed they knew not what it meant to work under orders and respect authority. It was something to think about in the next few moments when they come under fire.
Krusk retired back to the med-deck on the third floor, his claimed whereabouts, and immediately began prepping his weapons for the on coming mission. With each piece of hardware in his hand, he listed his equipment at his disposal. Frag Grenades, recon mines, detonation charges, three crates of thermal clips, his M-8 Avenger Assault Rifle, two pairs of Phalanx pistols, and one Black Widow assault rifle he recieved from the council as a celebratory gift for initiation in several more days. It was not loaded, there were no clips in the crate, and with good reason. Krusk had smuggled the crate on board before entering his deep sleep of solipism, in case he'd need it. Thankfully, he had a feeling things would be more close quarters.
He mounted the sniper rifle on the eastern wall just above the lab lights where it shined beautifully, with his reflection bouncing off the N7 insignia marked on the scope. It was like staring into the future of whatever may lay ahead, and seeing nothing but greatness. Krusk closed his eyes and felt a wave of pride wash over him, a clean sweep of proven worth as he released it all in a breath before moving to take a seat.
Krusk retired back to the med-deck on the third floor, his claimed whereabouts, and immediately began prepping his weapons for the on coming mission. With each piece of hardware in his hand, he listed his equipment at his disposal. Frag Grenades, recon mines, detonation charges, three crates of thermal clips, his M-8 Avenger Assault Rifle, two pairs of Phalanx pistols, and one Black Widow assault rifle he recieved from the council as a celebratory gift for initiation in several more days. It was not loaded, there were no clips in the crate, and with good reason. Krusk had smuggled the crate on board before entering his deep sleep of solipism, in case he'd need it. Thankfully, he had a feeling things would be more close quarters.
He mounted the sniper rifle on the eastern wall just above the lab lights where it shined beautifully, with his reflection bouncing off the N7 insignia marked on the scope. It was like staring into the future of whatever may lay ahead, and seeing nothing but greatness. Krusk closed his eyes and felt a wave of pride wash over him, a clean sweep of proven worth as he released it all in a breath before moving to take a seat.