Another day aboard the Citadel, where alien races of all kinds mingled, traded, discussed diplomacy and more. The galaxy's hub, in short.

And admist these thousands of wandering souls, was Grunt, sprawled on his seat in the Citadel's most famous bar. Emptied bottles scattered around, he was enjoying a rare moment of respite, between two missions in the Normandy.

And what better way to spend this time off than at his favorite bar, drinking and drinking again ?