[h2][color=steelblue][center]Riggs[/center][/color][/h2]
[hr]
Riggs tilted his head as he listened to Ven speak. [color=steelblue]"Yes, that sounds rather agreeable. I shouldn't think that, in our end of the mission, we should need to flaunt our ruse of mutiny much, if at all. I think you're on a proper track of thinking. Best to hunt down some general leads in a bar or the like, then go to my 'associates', to get a better lead."[/color] Riggs said, musing with his hand on his chin as he continued to recall names and faces of the men he had dealt with in the past. It was surprisingly easy to get information on basically anything if you had the right names on Nomad.

Though in his anarchist dealings in the past he had been tempted by men selling information critical even to the Council, though that was a can of worms Riggs refused to open in the past. He had no problem toppling governments he felt he could control the descent of -he did not feel so strongly about the Council. Perhaps, by the end of this spiraling clusterfuck, his hand would be forced to take action against the superpower. 

Riggs' expression changed to one of shock when the ship rocked, and he fell instinctively to a low crouch, arms spread wide to keep his balance. [color=steelblue]"Now, the time for planning seems to have come to an early conclusion."[/color] Riggs said, regaining his composure. He placed a hand on the back of his bandaged comrade, giving him a gentle push forward. [color=steelblue]"Move quickly, or die here. I'll find you at the escape pods, and be hasty my friend."[/color] Riggs said, as he turned the opposite direction of the escape pods. His lanky limbs carried him in a sprint to his quarters. 

As Riggs entered the room, his eyes narrowed under the flashing red lights. Sirens filled his ears as he dashed to the far wall to collect the papers and notes plastering the wall. His eyes widened as he reached an arm out to grab them, only for the fragile paper to be engulfed in orange tongues of flame. Riggs stumbled backwards, shouting a string of curses. He felt the ship rumble once again as he exited the room, and found himself tossed against the wall along with a spray of debris. A gutteral growl clawed out from his throat as he shrugged off the broken section of ship that broke against his glossy skin. His glowing tattoos could be seen bobbing swiftly through a cloud of smoke as he limped as quickly as he could to the escape pods. From a wound on his leg, a trail of deadly basic liquid flowed, smearing a twisted line in his wake.