A Port from the Storm

[Marcus O'Terra]

April 29th; 10:23 AST.

Marcus entered the Inn, clothes patched and clean, and all of seventy creds to his name; at least until he got to his safe box on Beaumonde. That'd be a right bit of effort, that.

Alison was behind him, clean and quiet; for her part. There were people at the inn, but he'd never been there so he couldn't tell if it was busy or if it was slow.

He approached the front desk, casually, and smiled at the clerk.

"Evening. Sorry to trouble you so late, but my ship was slow into port. Would you happen to have a room available? Two single beds, preferable." He smiled, hoping to put Alison in a bed and find the contact.

[Ray Hudson]

Dents and cuts covered the brown wooden desk. Years of abuse from the child and Vic's occasional violent outburst left the desk in a permanent state of weariness. It was only a matter of time until it would become unusable. If Vic were to have sex with another disease ridden prostitute atop the desk it would surely crumble beneath them. Knowing this he started using vacant rooms in the inn for his adulterous actions. The leather seat groaned as Vic leaned back in it. The seat was so comfortable that consumers have claimed that it could mend spinal damage making it the perfect chair for a person who does nothing but sit all day. Vic was stroking a stunning glass iguana. It glistened on the weathered surface of the desk and it's vibrant colors were constantly shifting. Orange, blue, white and green. It's dancing and rippling colors could enslave ones eyes and keep you captivated for hours.

Vic's curly, greasy, black hair was covered by a grey beanie. His full beard was haphazardly groomed. his long sleeve white shirt was clean and fresh and looked as if it had just been washed and dried. Olive pants were held up by a belt with a buckle in the shape of a hover bike. His shoes were absent and all that covered his feet were unmatching white socks. Vic had a cold sore on the left side of his lower lip and a tattoo of a hand holding it's own severed ring finger on his chest. Vic was larger than average but nothing to awful, he was taller than average and a bit muscular. His eyes were droopy and sad and his head was a bit long, sagged and wrinkled due to his bad genes, growing age, two divorces and three kids.

Behind Vic was a young boy who was no older than five. The child had a collection of dolls and a container of maple syrup. The boy was covering individual dolls with the syrup and sticking then to random objects. Lamps, nightstands and chairs, whatever caught his eye. Vic didn't pay much attention to this due to his horrible fathering techniques. Eventually Vic will notice this and yell at his son, possibly hitting him in the process.

A man walked into the dimly lit lobby of the inn with a young woman. The man approached the front desk and apologized for coming in so late and asked if a room was available. Vic sat up straight and looked the man in the eyes.

"I got plenty'a rooms. Lucky for you I got just the kind your lookin' for." Vic spoke with an odd accent and his sentences were spoke quickly. He looked at the man and then looked at the woman. Vic waited a moment before continuing. "Ten credits a night. Vic reached underneath the desk "N' these..." He then pulled up two iron baskets. "come complimentary." He placed the two baskets on top of the desk. The basket on the left contained a large amount of sweets and candy and it was nearly full. The basket on the right contained condoms in various sizes and colors. There were far less condoms left than there were sweets. "As you can see, ones more popular than the otha'. Dun' matter, just means more for me." Vic said, removing one of the sweets, unwrapping it and putting it in his mouth.

Vic pressed a button underneath his desk and the surface in front of the man and woman split and opened revealing a holographic sign in sheet. Vic reached into a drawer and pulled out a pen that had no point. He placed it next to the holographic sheet and looked back up at the two of them. "Your gonna need ta' sign your names here and how long you plannin' on stayin'." Vic wasn't going to take out the key to their room until he got the money and their signatures.

[Marcus O'Terra]

The place wasn't as bad as some of the dives Marcus had stayed in during his life. But it certainly wasn't the best. At least from the front. He ignored the little tyke, barely taking note of him. At the man's reply he had to nod that ten credits was decent enough. If he could get a job together maybe some front cash. He'd let the details fall as they did.

He didn't like the insinuation the man was making though, if he was making insinuations. He picked up the pen and signed the name "Patrick Baler" In short, round strokes. He handed Alison the pen and she signed the name "Marie Wei-Tsun" The family name in clear strokes.

Marcus had thought of several names to use for himself and Alison until their names were cleared up. He'd gone under a few alias in his time, and his signatures had gotten varied with enough time. He'd drilled Alison on writing this new name and answering to it. After only a week, she hadn't done too badly.

He put down ten of his own credits down on the table. Holding his finger down on the two five-notes until he saw a key

[Ray Hudson]

Vic watched as the man and woman signed their names. He double checked to see if the names were stored and after making sure he looked back up at them expecting pay. The man placed two bills on the desk but kept his finger on them. Vic kept his head aimed at the bills but his eyes shifted to look at the man. He stared at the man for a long moment until finally speaking. "Slosh!" Vic yelled. He waited for a moment but received no response. He turned around and faced a door on the left hand corner behind him. "SLOOOSH!" He yelled again, this time louder and more drawn out.

After the second yell, the voice of a woman with the same distinct accent as Vic was heard. "What?" She asked, annoyed by the impolite yelling.

"Custom'as!" Vic yelled back.

A woman in her early thirties came out of the room and approached Vic at the desk. Her jaw was larger than the average womans and her lips and nose was thin but a bit long. Her lips were thin and she was overweight. Not morbidly so but she was most definitely unfit. Her pants were tight on her and her stomach and sides covered her lurched over her belt line. She had little makeup on and she seemed fatigued. Her face was more wrinkled than it should have been for a woman her age and her hair was stringy and seemed not very well taken care of.

"Give 'em room nineteen." Vic ordered in a more calm tone, now that she had entered the room like he wished. Slosh knelt down by the wall behind them and began opening the safe that rested beneath a glowing board that brought up several attractions and events going on in the city. As she opened the safe, Vic was inappropriately staring at her rear end. The inn was a fairly decent place and one would wonder why a person with such inappropriate tendencies and lack of manners would be employed in such an establishment.

After opening the safe, rows of keys were revealed inside. Slosh reached in and pulled out the key for room nineteen. She stood up and walked toward the hallway that would lead the man and the young woman to their room. "Sir, madam, if you would follow me please." Slosh said in a polite tone.

"You don't need to take 'em to their room." Vic implied. He leaned back in his chair and watched the three of them.

"Policy dictates-" Slosh began before being interrupted.

"They can figure'id out!" Vic claimed, raising his voice and drawing out the word 'out'.

"Policy dictates," Slosh continued, raising her own voice"that all custom'as are to be escorted-"

"Policy dictates that if you don't as I say I'll sew your mouth shut with barbed wiya!" Vic interrupted again, this time his words getting violent as they sometimes tended to do.

"YOU AINT' THE BOSS VIC!! AN' IF YOU TELL ME WHAT TA' DO AGAIN I'LL HAVE 'EM CUT'CH YO FUCKIN' BALLS OFF!!" Slosh lashed back even louder and more aggressive.

"GO HWONG-TONG! I was tryin' ta' make your job a little easier but fuck it! Do what'cha want!" Vic hollered, getting up from his chair and walking into the room that Slosh had just came out of, slamming the door behind him leaving the front desk unmanned.

"Kuh-ooh duh lao bao-jurn." Slosh muttered to herself. "Let's go." She ordered the man and young woman, losing the polite mannerisms she displayed earlier. She walked down the hallway leading the them to room nineteen.

[Marcus O'Terra]

Marcus had kept his finger on the bills until the woman, Slosh, had produced a key. He kept his mind of the clerk's mannerisms and lack of tact. In fact, he felt more at ease surrounded by that sort of thing; maybe not surrounded by it. It's presence was a nice reminder that the all mighty Alliance hadn't taken the sin and spirit out of everyone, just yet.

When the key was in sight, he took his finger of the bills and let the pair banter before the woman started off toward the rooms. He motioned for Alison to follow, she didn't falter in keeping step and keeping quiet.

"Been workin' here long?" Marcus asked. Not wanting to seem too quiet.

[Ray Hudson]

The man asked Slosh how long she had been working at the Weeping Willow. She had a lot to say on that issue.

"Four years, four long long years of cleanin' up otha' peoples shit. Cleanin' up after every otha' piece'a garbage that comes in here. Ya' know when I was growin' up I wanted ta' be a teacha'. Teach kids how ta' read an..an.. play sports. Now look at me, now look were I am!" Slosh ranted. After asking them to look were she was she stopped and spun around looking at her surroundings. Suddenly she looked confused and realized what was wrong. "Shit were goin' tha wrong way." She turned around and walked back toward the lobby "C'mon." She ordered.

"I do all'a this work around here and I've asked tha' boss for a raise again, an again, an again, but he still pay's me nuthin'! Dirt!" The moved threw the lobby and entered the other hallway on the right. Suddenly Slosh came to a complete stop and turned to face the man. "You wouldn't believe the kinda shit I gotta do around here." Slosh began pacing back and forth, blocking the path for the man and woman. "One time I walked in'ta one of tha' rooms and there was shit and yellow paint all ova' tha' walls. I dunno what this scumbag was doin' but guess who had ta' clean it up. Slosh did. Vic aint gonna do it, Jerry aint gonna do it so I had ta' do it." In her ranting Slosh spoke quickly and denied the man and woman any opportunity of getting a word in.

Slosh then stopped pacing and leaned back on one of the doors, getting comfortable. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She reached in the pack and removed a fresh cigarette. Slosh reached into her other pocket and retrieved a lighter which she used to light the end. She took a long, pleasure filled drag and removed the cigarette from her mouth and blew out the smoke. Still leaning on the door, Slosh continued.

"Can you fuckin' believe that? I do all this work for these people an' they don't appreciate none of it." Slosh took another drag of her cigarette while shaking her head. After releasing the smoke from her mouth she continued. "This goddamn place would fall apart if it wasn't for me. If I left those assholes, they wouldn't get a thing done. Guy shoots his liquid love on the door handle, you think one'a them's gonna clean it up? Fuck no, they'll just let it dry and watch the whole place crumble. Slosh shook her head again and inhaled more smoke into her lungs "Worthless scumbags, all'a them."

She finally stopped talking after what seemed like a never ending rant. Slosh remained leaning on the wall with the key still in her possession. Room nineteen was still further down the hallway but Slosh was to sidetracked to care.

[Marcus O'Terra]

Marcus was starting to feel like this woman would keep on her tirade for ages, but up to a point, Marcus kept his mouth shut. As she stopped to take a drag from a fresh cigarette, Marcus felt it prudent to get the old sow moving.

He stifled a cough before she could continue on her rant. "Pardon me, then, Slosh." He almost said SLOTH which would be no end of trouble. "But Marie is rather tired from the trip. Horrible bunks, really. So if you could see us to the room?...."

He tried to sound younger than he was, it wasn't hard; he was short and puberty never burdened him with an abundance of facial hair.

[Ray Hudson]

The man claimed that the woman with him, Marie, was tired and wanted to be led to their room. Slosh grew suspicious of this and glared at the two of them. Her dagger eyes skewed into them and she perceived the incorrect. Her mind sent her else were and she took another puff of her cigarette. Her suspicious glare turned into a sneer and she removed the cigarette from her mouth.

"Ohhhh, I see." Slosh claimed, taking another lengthy drag of her cigarette. She sized up Marie and looked back at the man. "You wanna 'put her to bed' I gotcha." She said, winking at the man. "I get it, I get it. Your young, your healthy and your in love." If the man wanted to interrupt his words would fall on deaf ears. Slosh was only forty-six and so she wasn't going senile. Slosh was just a talker and heard what she wanted to hear. When she started talking she would talk. Small talk would become speeches with Slosh.

"I rememba' when Vic an' I were your ages." Slosh let out a long sigh and remembered all of the good times. "He was so handsome, jus' like you." She said, pointing at the man. "And I was so beautiful, jus' like you." Slosh claimed, pointing at Marie.

"Ya' know he used ta' write me sonnets? Full sonnets, I aint screwin' wit'cha!" Slosh looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember one of the many sonnets that Vic wrote for her when they first met. The concept of a man writing poetry for his sweetheart was a tired cliche, but it was one that Vic participated in.

Slosh laughed to herself, in disbelief of what she had just exposed the two strangers to. "Oh god that man was a corny mess. God, the places we would go. He was tha' sweetest man in tha' verse. N' then..." Slosh shook her head once again and her bitter expression came back on her face. "n' then we got married." She paused for a moment and then returned to her pattern of complaining about her life. "He realized he was bored'a me. I squeezed out two'a his kids an' I completely destroyed myself. Now he just fucks his whores all day while I do everythin'. No more goin' to tha' theata', no more nights out. It's just bullshit with him. He use'ta wanna be somethin', he used to have ambition. 'Oh I'll jus work at the inn for a bit an' then we'll get the restaurant open. You'll teach an' I'll manage the business.' Some fuckin' prophet he is" Slosh finished of her cigarette. As with most of her conversations, she started talking about someone else and made it about her. Sadly, she hadn't moved from her spot and made no headway towards the mans room.

[Marcus O'Terra]

Marcus blushed, but didn't refute the woman's claim. Better they think they were a young eloping couple or something like that. Less suspicious. Happens every day in the verse. Specially round the Border. There wasn't any helping it. He just let the woman drone on and on. However it was getting late, and Marcus wanted to sneak out and maybe get a peek at the meeting place before he met up with the contact.

Of course if this woman would just move her fat, flappy, arse he'd be able to do just that.

"Well it sounds like you could use a break, or at least turn in for the night... So if I could have my key and directions to the room. Nineteen; I believe it was..." He was trying to be as polite as possible.

But he was wondering how this place was still standing if this was the customer service... Still, it was in a port. And plenty of folks overlooked that for a bed to fall onto. Marcus had plenty of times, and he would this time too.

But he doubted he'd be coming back anytime soon... beyond this visit.

[Bishop Morse]

Vykaar:Reaver
10:28 P.M – Alliance Standard Time


There was a sudden racket coming from outside. Though it was rather late at night, it was suddenly sounding like a spaceport at mid-day. It was the sound roaring engines, rippling across the sky. Some of the engines were loud and deep, while others were at a higher pitch and screeched something awful. It made the walls of the inn shake as what was clearly some sort of aerial vehicle ripping overhead. But from inside no one could see what was happening. The sounds didn’t stop, and the shaking would come up every few seconds or so. From outside there were the sounds of various explosions and cracking. But through that, there was also a sound that was hard to make out at first. After a moment of concentration the sound was unmistakable. It was the sound of large groups of people screaming all at once.

From outside the front of the lobby people were seen running in a hurried panic towards a certain end of the street. They seemed to look behind them frequently, as though they were checking their distance from something they were running from. Then from outside of the lobby windows you could see a man with an axe, slam it into the back of a middle aged woman. After taking her to the ground, he lifted the axe up once more. And brought it down hard on her head.

Immediately following this, several more men, wearing drabby, ragged, and torn clothing went running by. But one stopped next to the lobby door. He looked inside, and with a large spear in his hand, he crashed into the door breaking in. But he wasn’t alone as suddenly the holo-window smashed as two more of these men jumped through it. The window put itself back together instantly, but standing in the lobby there were a set of three disgusting looking men. They had deep cuts on their faces, red pain, smelled horrible, no amount of care seemed to be taken of them at all. They growled and roared in carnal grunts and charged the reception desk, and in through the inn.

[Marcus O'Terra]

Marcus's body tensed at the sudden sounds of screaming. The howling of broken engines and calamity brought a single word to his mind. "Reavers..." He hissed. He looked around for an exit. The entrance was obviously no good.

"I need a weapon..." He growled under his breath. Not for survival, but to put himself out of his peril...

Alison.... Dazed as she was... He could NOT let her be taken by reapers. He'd kill her first. He snatched the key from the woman's hand and grabbed Alison with his other. "See ya!" He called to the woman before booking it down the hall.

15, 17, 19, The room was on the side of the building opposite the front entrance. There were buildings built near the back, and an alleyway. It was obvious this building had been built to have views on both sides, but no longer.

It suited him fine....

He opened the room and ran inside, Alison still following him in a daze, now one of terror. He closed the door and locked it. Knowing it would only mean the door came down rather than on its hinges.

He opened the Closet partway and looked to the window, looked both ways through it, using the curtains to keep in cover.

[Ray Hudson]

The whole inn shook and the streets outside grew redder and redder. Bothered and worried, Vic returned to the lobby and heard the mixture of screams and roars outside. His son didn't seem all that worried about it, in fact he seemed a bit excited. Vic was extremely worried and he reached into his desk and pulled out a nickel plated Colt M1911A1. Vic slowly made his way towards the front entrance but before he could move much further past his desk, the front door broke open and a horrible creature entered the lobby. Vic raised his pistol with one hand and aimed it at the thing but did not pull the trigger. He had no understanding of the situation and would not make a rash decision. Two more monsters entered through the windows and before Vic could utter a word they stormed at him. With new incentive, Vic fired four quick shots into one of the creatures. While trying to change targets Vic was brought to the ground by a tackling monster.

Pinned to the floor with his arms held by the monster, Vic was now helpless. All he saw was the glistening face of the demon mounting him. It shone with grime, sweat and human fluids that could not be claimed it's own. It's bottom lip was split open and a spike went threw the creatures top lip. It seemed that the spike was in both lips at one point but in one of it's roars, it split it's bottom lip in two.

Vic was unable to see what was happening to his son. The third creature darted right at Vic's child and pushed it to the ground. After that it punched the child right in the head, rendering the child unconscious.

The monster on top of Vic reached behind it, grabbing hold of what appeared to be a thin, but very long dagger. As it did this it released one of Vic's arms and he used this opportunity to punch the thing directly in the face. It had no effect on the creature and it didn't seem to feel it at all. The demon plunged the lengthy blade into Vic's side. His scream could be heard in every room of the inn. His mouth now wide open, the monster removed the blade from Vic's side and rose it high in the air. Vic gazed at the point of the dagger, It's length now covered in his blood. The dagger came down and entered Vic's open mouth. Vision failed him and blood oozed out of the sides of his mouth. He gurgled and twitched as he lay there. The creature twisted the blade and stood up.

Slosh was unable to watch the conflict in the lobby due to her key being swiped from her hand and the man and woman ran off with it. "Hey, hey ya' little shit!" She shouted at them. She reached down to her ankle and removed a small gun from a holster, an NAA Guardian. She began chasing them down the hall way looking back only once seeing Vic firing into the group of grotesque men.

The door to room nineteen was slammed and locked before she could get there an this greatly frustrated her. Luckily she knew the password to every room and didn't require a key. She put her finger on the keypad under the small receiver for the key card and typed in the password, 0019. The door unlocked and Slosh stormed into the room. She slammed the door behind her and locked it. Catching her breath for only a second she turned and looked at the man with a scowl that could be compared to a witches. "Ya' left me ya' asshole!"

[Bishop Morse]

Vykaar: Reaver

Nothing could be heard from the hallway on the other side. There was still quite a racket coming from the city outside, and anything inside really didn’t compare. Then suddenly the door smashed from its secure placement, and ripped forward. The woman standing before it was thrown to the ground. The gun in her hand fell to the floor. And from the hallway, which they had just come from, now stood two men. Their eyes of a devilishly animalistic sharpness glared into the people standing before them. In their hands they held various objects, but there was no time to see what they were exactly.
They charged inside of the room. One of the demonic figures grabbed the woman they’d knocked to the floor. Another who had charged in two thing in his hand. One was a large blunt pipe like object, the other looked like a mechanics power tool.

FFFFFT FFFFT FFFFT

A sound came in rapid succession, only taking a second before it was done. The man that had run into the room earlier, who was now standing at the window, had three nails sticking into his leg. They were at the upper portion of his leg, running along where is femur was. They dug in deep, but not extremely deep. However the creature charged forward and cracked the man on the head with the blunt object. The blow was rather hard, and knocked the man to the ground his eyes closed in a dazed state. The barbaric man turned then and struck the woman who had run into the room with the man he had just struck to the floor. She fell, but was not unconscious. He lifted her up and throwing her over his shoulder. The other woman, who had been holding the gun, was also lifted up by the other red paint faced being which had stormed the room. She too was conscious. It seemed the creature that had knocked the man to the ground presumed he was dead, as he did not check again. They simply turned and began moving out the door, carrying the woman.

The gun, which the woman had drawn, still lay there on the floor. The man, who had his eyes closed for a moment, was not unconscious, but rather dazed. It was impossible to tell how many more of the savage men were still there, but the screams of the woman was clearly heard from inside of the room still.

[Marcus O'Terra]

Marcus was in pain. Genuine, horrible pain. The nails in his leg were, thankfully, in the one that had a rather nasty foot wound. He bet those would get infected right quick.

The next moment blanked out for Marcus, but when he came to, there was screaming. It filled him with enough vigor to get up and see what was going on. There was a holdout pistol nearby. A six shot NAA Guardian. He picked it up and checked the gun. All the shots were in there. Six shots. Four Reavers, Alison, and Himself.... Bad times... The rounds were the special .32NAA ammo. The rounds would have a viscous kick to them. A nasty bite as well.

He crept towards the vacant door frame, peeking out, ready to snap out with his gun. He remembered his training. Steady grip, second hand under the butt of the gun. Use the iron sights. Aim for the head.

He inhaled, and exhaled; and prayed. If there were too many, the sixth shot would be for himself, if not he'd run. With Alison. If she was too far gone..... there was that Nail gun that'd left him bleeding. He just hoped the damn thing didn't cut the owner every time it fired...

If the stories about reavers were true.... he couldn't let them take her.... oh damnit all.

He snapped out of the corner and what he saw....

There was a bang.

He'd fired the pistol. He'd aimed at Alison's head. She'd died. There wasn't any way to live from that. He took off immediately back into the room, and made for the window. He yanked it up and looked both ways. He had to get away.

Not for the first time in his life, he wondered where the HELL the feds were. It was, however, the first time he'd welcome their appearance.

[Ray Hudson]

The man came out of the room, took aim, fired and jumped back in. Slosh remembered the foolish stories she would here from the many patrons at the inn. The stories that were ridiculous in particular were the tales about reavers. It was hard to deny it now since she was on the shoulder of one and she was apprehended in the same fashion that was described in the stories. Murder, rape, rend, Her body was going to be destroyed by those things. Slosh's fear grew immensely and her heart was near shutting down due to the stress and terror.

The reavers exited the hotel by smashing in the back door. They were now outside and soon Slosh was going to be taken to a reaver ship and all of the horrible tales were going to be proven to her.

It happened rather quickly. A loud noise was heard and Slosh started tumbling to the ground and as she fell off her captors shoulder, a similar noise was heard to heard to her right. Slosh was now on the ground, laying on her stomach and her understanding of the situation decreased immensely. A man in his early thirties knelled down next to her. He had brown hair and a full goatee which made him seem a tad older. He wore a bullet proof vest with his name J. Anaya on it and the insignia on his shoulder showed that he was a member of the Za-Za police force."Hey lady, you alright?" He asked, trying to yell over the noise from the carnage of the city. "Hey!" He shouted again, he was obviously in a hurry

The sound of barbaric shouting was heard coming down towards the cop, and he saw the reaver rushing in his direction from across the street. "Shit." He muttered while standing up. He raised his 12 gauge double barreled shotgun and aimed it at the reaver. He pulled the trigger and hit the reaver directly in the chest, putting an end to it's rampage. The Za-Za police officer popped out the shells in his shotgun and started putting two more in it's place.

As Anaya reloaded a second officer was heard to his right. Her vest had the name V. Saifei "This ones dead." she claimed with a touch of anger in her voice.

Anaya turned to see what the other officer was talking about. A young brown haired woman lay on her back with a bullet hole in her head. "You hit her by accident?" Anaya asked

"Naw, this couldn't have been me." the officer answered. "Couldn't have been" She repeated

They all grew silent and all that was heard was the screaming and slaughtering going on in the main streets. There weren't as many reavers were the officers were since they were behind a collection of buildings in a large sort of alley way. The silence was cut short by a statement by Slosh. "If he had just waited."

They now knew what had happened and their expressions fell from fear to sadness and pity. They all stared at the womans corpse and felt awful for the needless mercy killing. The silence was broken, however, by a scream that was directly across from them. An eight year old girl ran as fast as her small legs could take her but she could never outmatch the speed of the reaver chasing her. The reaver knocked her down with it's knee and went down to pick her up but was stopped after two shots entered it's chest

A third cop with the name M. Huebner on his vest was seen holding an m14 rifle in his hands and making his way towards the reaver across from him. "GET AWAY FROM HER YOU DISGUSTING SON OF A BITCH!!" Huebner yelled at the creature. He fired two more round into the reaver, causing it to fall down and expire. "YEAH! HOW DO YA' LIKE THAT SHIT COCKSUCKER!!"

The child sat there with a look of terror. The reavers blood was spattered on her face and clothing and she was shaking. "C'mon, let's go." The cop told her. He grabbed the girl by the hand and she stood up. The two of them made there was back to the group. There was a large hovering vehicle in the alleyway.

There were three civilians already in the vehicle that the officers had saved only moments ago. Anaya and Saifei climbed into the back and Huebner helped the child in. He turned around and saw Slosh staring at the young woman's corpse. "Lady c'mon we need to go." He told her. Slosh stood up and walked toward the vehicle, her eyes still focused on the corpse of Marie Wei-Tsun. That was the name she had signed and that was the name Slosh knew. Huebner helped Slosh into the vehicle and when everyone was seated the vehicle started moving again.

Slosh sat there shaking and panicking and she reached into her pocket and revealed her cigarettes. She pulled one out of it's container, lit it and placed it in her mouth. The person next to her asked her for one but Slosh couldn't hear him. She looked at the empty seat across from her and imagined the brown haired woman sitting there with all of them. Slosh looked down at the floor and just sat there shaking and smoking.

[Marcus O'Terra]

[Post rated M for uncensored Profanity]

Marcus had collapsed outside the window where the room he'd just left. The nails in his leg scrapped at his bone as he tried to escape. The pain had been intense, but not enough to stop him from rolling out of the window.

He had been there when the sounds of gunfire echoed from the hall. Police issued rounds, if he was to guess. But there was so much pain. It didn't matter. They were human rounds. Human weapons. Not reavers...... There were voices, chatter like police maybe....

"Alison........." he started to shake. Looking at his hand, he saw the gun in his hand. "damnit.... fucking god damnit" He hissed. He looked left and right, the street seemed clear but he kept the gun ready in case the Reavers showed up again.

"Stupid, fucking, rat brained, murdering....." Murder That's what this was. A murder.... not some jackass mob boy taking privileges without consent. Not some bandit tong rat that crossed too many good business. An innocent woman who might have lived....

But in the hands of the feds. A voice whispered. They'd see her somehow and the face would tag to the people on Londinum. Marcus crawled away from the window and managed to get to his feet. The pain was intense, but the guilt was worse; and the fear of being locked up by the Feds overpowered it all. He kept going.

<Exiting thread>

[Bishop Morse]

Current Time - 10:30 P.M - Alliance Standard Time