When the bomb went off and people began leaping on her, trying to pin her down and take her into captivity, Ridahne was convinced that the day couldn't get any worse. How could it? People dying everywhere--civilians--and Ridahne knew deep down that the Taja were not there by chance. Her people had done this. Hers. And she wanted to say it was unlike them, that her people would never do something like this. But...they had. 

She had. 

Not this exactly, but she'd done dark deeds in the name of duty, in the name of preserving as many lives as possible. That, after all, was what Azurei did. If a few had to die so that others would live, then it would be so. Auzurei practically wrote the book on small strike teams, strategic pressure points, assassinations. They had neither the resources nor the numbers to march out in force, so they resorted to strategy. Strategy meant careful sacrifice. 

Ridahne stopped herself. She was almost justifying this. How could she? There was no cause for this, no excuse. She was well versed in the issues Azurei faced--general poverty, exploitation of the silver mines for which they were so known, and a general loss of sovereignty after the war ended. But none of those things were cause for an act of war like this. If the Sol wanted a war, why didn't she just send a team to assassinate the Chancellor in his bed? What was more, why did she want to bring on another war? What was she thinking? 

No. This was wrong. No matter what her bias towards home told her, bombings were low and cowardly. They shed needless blood. 

Of course, as another man entered the alley, Ridahne decided that yes, yes this day could get worse. One, she could easily intimidate into avoiding a fight and if it came to one, in her current state she had a shot still. But two? Sober and armed, she wouldn't bat an eye, but at the moment, she wasn't firing on all cylinders. This one had a gun, which severely tipped the odds against her. As a reflex, Ridahne gave a fierce shout and stomped her front foot on the ground, though she was very disappointed with the lack of effect. At home in the sands, that gesture which had become so instinctive had a much greater effect as it sprayed sand forward--if it was done with a little more force and momentum, sand could be kicked into the opponent's eyes. But here, it just slapped onto the paved alleyway unsatisfactorily. 

"Point that fucking gun somewhere else or I'll take the hand that holds it." Though she had a thick accent, her Brahneian was good and clear. Ridahne meant every word, though she wasn't exactly sure how she'd follow through without either a gun or any of her blades. "And don't either of you move any closer or SO HELP ME YOU WILL NOT LEAVE THIS ALLEY ALIVE." As if to prove a point, she swung the chain in her hand around once to gain momentum, then another rotation slapped hard into the sandstone wall beside her, sending tiny chips of broken stone skittering along the ground. Of course, this was a terrible thing for a person who was a suspect who also wanted to convince others she was innocent, to say out loud. This, however, wouldn't cross her mind until later.

She couldn't think of any reason either of them would be there except to come for her...but then...neither of the men seemed to expect to find her there. In fact, the one with the gun seemed rather surprised and concerned at finding her. Then again, she thought that could be simply because they had been looking for refuge and instead were faced with what they thought was someone responsible for the wreckage, and were now putting up a fight. She didn't know, but it didn't matter. The fact remained that at least one weapon was pointed her way and she would not take that lying down. Besides, she needed to get out, grab her things, and get as far away from here as possible. 

Overhead, the little drone hovered and its attached camera studied the three of them in turn, a little light blinking green in rhythmic blips every few seconds. It made no signs of moving on. Ridahne, consumed by panic, did not notice.