Too bad for you, Marco. Your lousy Eclipse backup's no good to you when you've got a krogan on your ass.
Rachel's loathe to admit it, but her grizzly bear morph only gets her so far on this station, and elephant's right out. Luckily for her, she's been able to borrow the form of one of her Blood Pack compadres, which works out extra well because no one really makes armor in Rachel's size on this station. It's not so much the height as it is the fit.
She about jumped at the chance to take this job when she heard about it. The rumors -- maybe they're only just rumors, but Rachel can't afford to risk doing nothing if they're not. So Rachel was expecting a small package, but she wasn't expecting...Marco.
He'd probably make a stupid innuendo at that thought, but for a second Rachel feels a chill in her hot-blooded krogan veins. They said Eclipse was supposed to be carrying the package, and that goon obviousy tailing Marco is obviously Eclipse -- she's had too much experience spying as a seagull to be fooled by him -- but Marco? A mercenary? Maybe she could see it for the Marco she knows, the real Marco. He's always been the look-out-for-himself type. Totally fits the bill. But this isn't the real Marco. This is the wimpy, weenie Marco. Marco Lite. Diet Marco. She could go on, but the moment's getting away from her.
Ugh, well -- it's not like this changes things. If anything, it makes her even more determined to swipe that package. The last thing she needs is the blue box falling into the hands of Marco with a side of extra dweeb.
Take care of the backup, first thing. As if that's hard. Stealthy even as a krogan, Rachel waltzes around behind Marco's merc buddy and takes advantage of the passing cover of a support column to drop him with a quick, clean blow to the back of his neck.
no subject
Rachel's loathe to admit it, but her grizzly bear morph only gets her so far on this station, and elephant's right out. Luckily for her, she's been able to borrow the form of one of her Blood Pack compadres, which works out extra well because no one really makes armor in Rachel's size on this station. It's not so much the height as it is the fit.
She about jumped at the chance to take this job when she heard about it. The rumors -- maybe they're only just rumors, but Rachel can't afford to risk doing nothing if they're not. So Rachel was expecting a small package, but she wasn't expecting...Marco.
He'd probably make a stupid innuendo at that thought, but for a second Rachel feels a chill in her hot-blooded krogan veins. They said Eclipse was supposed to be carrying the package, and that goon obviousy tailing Marco is obviously Eclipse -- she's had too much experience spying as a seagull to be fooled by him -- but Marco? A mercenary? Maybe she could see it for the Marco she knows, the real Marco. He's always been the look-out-for-himself type. Totally fits the bill. But this isn't the real Marco. This is the wimpy, weenie Marco. Marco Lite. Diet Marco. She could go on, but the moment's getting away from her.
Ugh, well -- it's not like this changes things. If anything, it makes her even more determined to swipe that package. The last thing she needs is the blue box falling into the hands of Marco with a side of extra dweeb.
Take care of the backup, first thing. As if that's hard. Stealthy even as a krogan, Rachel waltzes around behind Marco's merc buddy and takes advantage of the passing cover of a support column to drop him with a quick, clean blow to the back of his neck.