Slowly, too slowly for his liking, darkness and shadow gave way to more illuminated areas of the Apox - areas that would no doubt be occupied for that very reason by further threats. Hemi had already had to crack a few skulls (and femurs and necks and limbs...) to reach the corridor through which he now wove, squatting and leaping, swinging and stepping, his head as much on a swivel as was possible and his ears kept metaphorically as open as he could get them; from time-to-time he would mutter to himself in his native tongue, humming a well-known folk song even as he fractured the skull of a wounded inmate - the woman apparently convicted for murder of her own children - trapped beneath a fallen piece of debris, and with little to no chance of ever getting free.

[I]"We must have fallen from orbit,"[/i] he mused silently, only the sound of his own movement and gruff breathing interrupting his thoughts, [i]"the entire station, hundreds of convicted criminals..."[/i] without realising it, his blood-stained mouth twisted into a sneering grin, [i]"truly this is a battleground worthy of only the greatest!"[/i] Images of tattooed Maori warriors and kilted Highlanders began to flash through his mind, pictures and illustrations from his childhood books, barked instructions from his martial arts instructors joining them and giving him cause to remember the last MMA session he had ever had; it had been in a small club in Auckland, one of his bullies thinking himself the better man...until Hemi had nearly killed the older boy.

Booted feet moved swiftly over blood-slicked metal, one huge hand hefting a fallen piece of a supporting girder out of his path, muscles straining and his expression changing to one of annoyance - this was all taking too long! He wanted out, now!

Wait...there...a beam of light emanating from what could only be the outside world, an opening torn into the side of the fallen station and...was that people talking?! What idiots would be standing around this close to the station, having a nice conversation over a bloody cup of tea, waiting to die?

There was only one way to find out.

Gripping the steel piping a little tighter, yet keeping his arm relaxed and his body ready - like some big cat stalking its prey - he half-crouched and moved as close to the wall as he could. With steps as soft as one could get in a pair of prison boots, so not all that softly, he got as close to the entrance as he could and, with one long intake and expulsion of breath, strode boldly into the light of day.

The sight that greeted him almost sent him into fits of laughter, even as he [i]nearly[/i] walked into the back of some bumbling blonde child, slipping to the so-called man's rear left, close to the exterior of the wreckage, and eyeing the group warily; from what he could tell there was around six of them, one certainly shot through the head - his blood and brain matter still leaking into the lush grass, something Hemi took in along with the trees, all of which reminded him of home - another man looking pained and being attended by a blonde woman, another woman looking quite uneasy in possession of a firearm but more than willing to use it.

There were others, but all-in-all it looked as if none of them really knew what the Hell they were doing...although he could see that the woman tending to the 'wounded' man most certainly knew her way around a medical kit.

[B]"Helicopters and dogs and tanks are going to be coming for us soon if we don't get out of here. I don't know about you guys, but I don't want to go stumbling into these woods alone and afraid with dogs coming after me."[/b]

"What," he half-barked, announcing his presence to the group, if it was not already known, "the fuck are you talking about?" It was a question mostly directed at the woman who was apparently shitting herself at the prospect of unseen enemies, "this station fell out the fucking sky, crashed into wherever we are, an you think they'll come an get us [i]soon?[/i]" He wiped a shoulder of his torn suit, gesturing with the pipe in his hand as he spoke, trying not to crack into a bout of mirth, "nah, they'd have been here already, if they're coming at all."

Taking a step nearer to the group, the weedy blonde to front right, the rest of the group before him, he looked to each of them before spitting a gobbet of phlegm from his crusted mouth, "the fuck is this anyway?! You all having a little barbeque here, a little picnic or somethin? Staff meeting perhaps?" Now he did laugh, the laugh of someone who was genuinely happy and thought the entire situation hilarious, "good thing you've got a gun though," his eyes took on a much more serious expression, even as his lips continued to smile, "if you stand about much longer, you're gonna fuckin' need it."