thecitadelsquad:

“Please refer to us as Picasso. As for resources, our team is comprised of one human who uses cosmic weaponry, one N7 Slayer, one N7 Paladin, one Vanguard classed Elcor, two Vorcha demolition experts, an asari medic, a salarian Adept and ourselves.”

The Prime then projects an image of several facilities. “We have also liberated three Cerberus holdings, stripped them clean of any listening devices and have turned them to aid the Alliance. This one, in the Shrike Abyssal, is a fabrication plant. This one, an iridium mining facility in the Apien crest; and this one is a medical research facility in the Athena Nebula.”

                Picasso.  It was a name that tugged at his memory, an alien name, one of significance.  It was more a memory of war rooms and a young soldier’s early military career that was evoked – a lieutenant, fresh and serving his people against a hostile, ignorant new alien race.  Studying a new language, 15,000 years of history.  Science, philosophy, art.  All just part of a profile to understand an enemy.  And then it came to him.

            “An ancient human artist?” he could not – did not try – to hide the surprise, the bemusement in his voice.  A… c u r i o u s  moniker for an elite synthetic  behemoth.  He could think of few things that were farther removed from being alike.  “Why take that name?” he asked in open interest, even as his mind ticked over the impressive strike team of which this Prime was a professed member.  Leave it to a galaxy-wide extinction event to bring such disparate species together.

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