Snippet #2550997

Char's first order of business was to unpack his items from his quarters and leave exploring the rest of the ship for later on. With that already done he headed straight for the armory to check over his gear. The door shifted closed quietly as he set foot inside. It was mostly unpopulated for a few unknown crew members and that female Drell. He walked past them without acknowledgement, to focused on the task at hand to socialize. He stood before his designated supply locker. He punched in it's combination only to find nothing inside it.

Char had planned to put everything he needed into his locker himself. He didnt trust anyone with his belongings. He layed a duffel bag out on the work bench to his right. He zipped it open to remove some of its contents. His protective fibers layed sectioned off from the rest of the bench in one corner. He pulled out a pitch black visor from the bag and inspected it for a second before setting it aside along with his fibers. He removes a folded black fabric square with a blue stripe going down the middle of the square. Char unfolded it. It was the cloak he had made for himself when decided to accept this mission. It was composed of tear resistant fabric with nylon lining surrounding. He fold it back to how it was and put it with the rest of his combat gear. He was half tempted to try all of it on, but quickly expelled the idea from his head.

He placed the gear into his supply locker and dug into his bag again. This time he pulled out tools for fixed and modifying weapons in a variety of ways. Char didnt bring a firearm with him aboard the ship. He seldom ever had to rely on one. Despite this, he walked to one of the supply racks and grabbed a Stalwart off of it. Char frowned.

'I've never liked the Stalwart. Its never had enough stopping power for me. Although... I do have the means to fix this problem.' He brought the handgun to the bench and immediately deconstructed it. "Tug a few internal firing mechanisms here... now it can fire in a 3-round burst." He said to himself. He switches on a sparkless precision welding torch to attach a rail system on the top of the gun. He just began contruction on a handgun optical sight, but then Char notices a human walk in.

Char's focus shattered like glass when he realized who it was that walked in. 'Captain Marshall? Thats the last person I'd expect to be walking in here right now! If he sees me tampering with union issued equipment he's going to have my head!' He thought. The human didnt seem to notice Char standing akwardly still. 'What's he doing? Checking his amor?'. Marshall soon walks out. Char louldy sighs in relief. 'Ok Char. Back to work.'

Char had been making a few finishing touches on the weapon's barrel before the ship's intercom came to live. What sounded like a female quarian began to talk through it. As the pilot had been going through her speech, Char had retrieved a metal etcher from his suit's pouch. He used the etcher to carve in ancient quarian dialect in what can be roughly translated as "Plan B" on the left side of the pistol's frame. He holstered the newly modified Stalwart in his suit's waist strap and packed his tools back into the duffel bag. He heard the pilot exclaim "Lets kick some ass!" As he walked out of the armory. He started back for the elevator, now awaiting orders.