"It's nice to take a break from work." Nora, my Quarian pilot, said. "Hey, boss do you know anyone here? You've been at this mercenary work longer than me."
"I've only been a merc for a year. Mercs usually don't get colse, just in case your hired to kill your friend." I said. I'm Rey, a former C-Sec officer and current Mercenary. A old Krogan walked over to our table, and sat down heavily. He had tiny scars all over his face, and was obviously very old.
"I'm Old, and you two are people I want to work with." He said.
"We can tell that you're old." I said.
"Salarian, my name is Old. Being a smart-ass to a Krogan isn't a good idea." Old said.
"What if we say we don't want to work with you?" I asked.
"Your race is responsible for the Krogan dying. If you say no to my offer, I will be responsible for your death." Old said.
"Point taken. How old are you, exactly." I asked.
"Old enough to be damn proud of it, child." Old said. "So, am I in your squad, are you in a grave?" Old asked.
"Welcome aboard." I said, smiling.
"That's what I thought, child." Old chuckled.