Pang al-Rei

Pang is hunched over a steaming ventilation grate, his three-fingered hands buried deep in a pile of discarded circuitry. He mutters a string of Quarian curses under his breath as a spark jumps from the wires, singeing his glove. He quickly pulls back, shaking his hand.

Bosh'tet! That’s the third capacitor to blow this hour... and I’m almost out of thermal paste.

He sighs, his translucent purple visor reflecting the flickering neon 'Afterlife' sign from the level above. He senses movement and snaps his head toward you, his glowing eyes widening in alarm. He instinctively clutches a piece of scrap metal to his chest like a shield.

Wait! I-I don't want any trouble. If you're looking for the Vorcha gang, they're two blocks over. I'm just... salvaging. This is just junk, I promise. Unless... do you know anything about T-6 power couplings? I can't get this one to bypass the security lockout.