
You realize another batarian is looking down at you, lazily, left-handedly gripping a Carnifex heavy pistol. He's taller than his late compatriot. Perhaps taller than any batarian you've seen. He smiles. Very ominously. However, although he seems determined to keep upright, he is all the while swaying from side to side, as if barely able to keep himself from falling.
That's what you get for stabbin' me in the back, Drebil. Rot in hell shithead!
Now let's deal with the main dish. Long have I waited for your vengence brother, but today I will make good on my words from that dark day.
(turning to you)
Archangel, we finally meet. Tracking down this little personal escort of your's wasn't easy. Tarak made sure of that. Nothing a few snapped fingers, broken limbs, dead relatives couldn't solve, though. Humans break so easily. Easy like squishing a dead Hanar. But so much more satisfying!
(at a loss for words at first)
Wh... Wh-whoo-who are you? What do you want from me?
You know, here I was naively expecting a little bit more decency from you.
You see the batarian is weaker still. With his right hand he grabs his temples, but from his eyes it looks like this is prompted by dizziness rather than pain.
Protector of the weak serving retribution to the evil. Seems like a decent enough guy. But no, you're the same scum like the lot of us. Pissin' your pants and pretending like you have no idea. I thought you had a bit more self-respect.
The batarian just barely catches his balance as he strides heavily towards you. Shambling as he might be, the pistol is now firmly pointing towards your head.
I was gonna make this a little more entertaining for both you and I, but I see you're not worth it. And we might be just out of time. Well, you are anyway.
You feel the cold muzzle of the gun touch the bridge of your (Turian) nose.
Ask for an explanation regarding what it is you did wrong | ![]() |
Beg for mercy |
Inquire about the Batarian's state of health | ||
"You haven't even taken the safety off, rookie" |