“Oh? A nanny banned from working with people?” Miranda raised her eyebrow before turning back to the man, “And stealing food during a crisis? Your rations should be halved and you,” she turned back to Dalry, “would be looking at a few days in the brig for assault, not to mention other mischief you may or may not be involved in. BUT. As the rations are already low and the brig has been converted into a sickbay, let us just agree, for the sake of order in these turbulent times, that nothing happened here. Go about your lives, but do NOT-”

A shout interrupted her preaching. A shout, followed by a security officer’s nightmare. The crowd has had enough. And by the looks of it, they were out for blood. This was exactly what she hoped to avoid. Now, she had a dozen officers inbound who were not equipped to handle this kind of situation. The crowds began to get violent. “Clear out!” she shouted, grabbing the man and pushing him away from the crowd before she brought the PAD up to her mouth. “Riot in landing bay four. Fire bombs near the crowd, several injuries!” she heard the distinct crack of a rifle, followed by a scream beside her, “We have gunfire, too.” Her eyes followed the scream, looking for its source and expecting to find a lifeless body. Dalry was not shot, just sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth. “What on Earth are you doing, you frostbrain?” Miranda shouted in hopes of snapping her back into reality, “Hide!” she barked as she grabbed her shoulders and pulled her behind a pile of boxes and an overturned trolley.

A bullet ricocheted of the Scythian and hit one of the boxes, sending plastic splinters, sharp enough to pierce skin, in a wide arc. For a split second, an image of the battle of Proxima III three years ago, flashed through her memory. She remembered the tiny glass shards from the window, shattered by the shockwave, stuck in her face. A gut wrenching sound, something between snapping branches and stepping into mud, brought her back to present. Another marine lay dead on the loading ramp in a sea of his own blood. A good reminder to stay in cover herself. “Where is that backup? Our backs are against a wall here.”
[b]”Four minutes, and we are scrambling additional officers outfitted for crowd control. Make sure you clear your men out and to a safe distance before they use tear gas.”[/b]
Miranda knew that by the time they reach the Scythian, it will already be too late.