IC Contact - Consignment

[forgivetheinsubordination]

vakarian.garrus@cdc.org
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[forgivetheinsubordination]

[Planets combining. How? Wouldn't both be destroyed? The impact of a ship on another planet can be huge, forget a whole other world. And several races developing on just one world? Obviously the rules of Zelos' world are like nothing Garrus has run into.]

Dakham's a port. Spaceport, port city for spaceships. Pretty big. No idea if it's big for them or small. Wasn't there that long. And you didn't really miss much by not seeing it.

[It had been very short, and it was his first taste of CDC politics. Too bad it hadn't been his only one.]

But right. Backtracking. Skeletons. One with wings cut off, bunch of them mutating. Command badge. Almina refugees on the planet. ...Could be that the worst thing that happens when someone goes rogue isn't death. Could be some experiments were run here. You see anything lab-like?

[glorifiedtrash]

[He shakes his head. He didn't see anything like that. That doesn't mean there isn't. Just that he didn't find them if there are.]

There were a few rooms that looked like they'd been used to contain people, but no equipment and nothing that looked like it might have held equipment. A lot of cult stuff. Horror house art. Did you check any of the emergency kits while you were down there?

[forgivetheinsubordination]

Cult stuff, horror house art.

[It's quietly echoed before he catches the question Zelos asked.]

Hm? No. We didn't really... have an emergency. Got attacked, but we dealt with it. Why? Was there something in there?

[Maybe he should take a page from Shepard's book and just start opening every toolkit and room he comes across.]