"Anybody else want some, huh?!" he barked, chest rising and falling with an enraged scowl on his face.

James was aware the jarhead/grunt had said something. Hard to hear in the din of breaking furniture and thudding bodies. Though given that he currently stood over a prone body he could only assume it was some kind of challenge. Or perhaps a call for glue-

James' wasn't able to figure out Dusk's dramatic proclamation as he found himself taking flight for the third time of the fight. Finding that the window panes of this establishment should have been able to take the force of a man being thrown by four humanoid beings.

But alas it did not.

So James found himself on main street; his hat sitting lonely like on the dust beside him. The din of the fight spilling out the shattered window as the human dusted himself off. The "Captain" picked himself up and pondered whether it was worth it to reinsert himself into the fray.

A being he didn't know joined him on the street. Flying in a manner similar to James but with a much less graceful landing.

"Howdy. First fight??" The Kiellar just gave a pained groan and remained face down groaning as she clutched a bleed at the back of her head.

Very few other people were upright at this point. The fight was, for-all-intents-and-purposes, over.

Neri climbed back to her feet, "I think we've all probably had enough at this point," she announced. Tactically choosing not to declare that their side had won. Though they had.

"Hey!" she called to the barman who was trying to scuttle out the back, hidden behind the counter, "Stop! I see you there!"

The barman gave a sigh, standing up, giving the group a wary glance. There was quite a bit of broken furniture, smashed bottles and injured patrons, though to his credit the man didn't do anything stupid like demand they pay for the damage, "Can I help you?" he asked instead.

"What was that all about?" Neri demanded, "I was here not so long ago and people were friendly enough, then they attack us."

"That's because of them," he pointed between Dusk and Kim, "We didn't realise you worked for them up in the mountains."

"Who?" Neri demanded, "We just got planetside, we definitely don't work for anyone up in the mountains."

the barman looked at her, then back at Dusk and Kim, then at the people who were gradually drawing themselves to their feet amidst groans and curses, "I think there has been a bit of a misunderstanding," he announced.

"You see, there's not many humans in this part of the galaxy. Only ones I know of are those ones up in the hills who have been terrorising these parts," the barman told them, "They killed the sheriff, shot him dead, and nobody has had the courage to pick up the badge since. Now they come to town, take what they want, and leave and nobody dares to try to stop them. If you aren't with them, well..." he scratched the back of his neck, "like I said, bit of a misunderstanding."

---

Dusk slowly let his fists lower, his breathing was still heavy as he looked around the saloon. Most of the locals were either on the floor, leaning against broken furniture, or getting back to their feet with groans and curses.

A few still glared at him but none of them moved to try anything.

Dusk looked down at the big dhasath beneath him. The man was still wheezing, face bloodied and swollen, but alive. He'd had enough. The Marine stepped away from him, wiping his knuckles on his shirt again as the anger began to settle into discomfort.

He had not meant to take it that far. The barman then spoke, as Neri tried her best to calm things down.

Dusk listened, still cautious, still keeping part of his attention on the room. When the man pointed between him and Kim, Dusk glanced toward her with a puzzled expression.

“Wait,” he said, looking back at the barman, “Humans are up in the hills?”

His brow tightened.

“We’re not with them. We just got here...” He backed up Neri.

He gave the room another glance, catching the suspicious looks still aimed his way.

“How long have they been doing this?” he asked, “These humans. How many are we talking about?”

There was a short pause. Dusk looked down for a moment, then back to the barman.

“Look. This got out of hand.”

He did not exactly apologize, but there was clear remorse.

“But if there are people out there terrorizing this town, killing your sheriff and using our faces to do it…”

He paused and pursed his lips, “Then maybe we can help deal with them.”

He glanced towards Kim for a moment. This was not just about doing the right thing, though that was part of it. If they helped this town, maybe they could earn some trust and perhaps even a ride or a lead on a way off this rock.

Dusk looked back at the barman.

“You need people who know how to handle trouble?”

He straightened slightly, “That much, we can do as you can see.”

The brawl had ended just as quickly as it had begun. It had been a storm of fists, insults, and racial epithets, but it now seemed to be rooted in something further than simple prejudice.

“Well, sorry about that,” he looked down at a Dhasath man who had fallen face-first onto the floor when Charnud used his own momentum against him to make him trip. He offered a hand, which was quietly accepted.

Now, the entire situation has begun to resolve itself. Humans seemed to be perceived as a troublesome bunch that committed acts of terrorism, raided for supplies, and committed wanton murder for no reason. Honestly, the description reminded him of home.

And now, Dusk was offering their services. As a group. Many of them did possess a particular set of skills, and some were trained soldiers, so it was probable that out of the people in this town, they’re the only ones capable of stopping these attacks.

Charnud, for his part, wondered if those hillmen had degenerated into barbarism or simply justified themselves through the good old maxim of “we have to survive.”

He slunk to the bar counter, noticeably less scuffled and huffed than the rest. “Think of it as recompense for the damage that had been done to your establishment,” he said to the barman, smoothly continuing what Dusk had said. He motioned over the destroyed tables, smashed up bottles, and bleeding men and women still on the floor. “It is only right, as the Great Maker rewards those who make up for their mistakes. That being said, we have been looking for employment. Perhaps, should we prove our worth in defeating these malignant raiders on the hills, maybe we could… continue, as my friend here said, handling trouble, in a permanent arrangement. After all, you don’t have a sheriff anymore.”

The Barman looked from Dusk to Charnud, grimaced, "I don't think you folks know what you're getting yourselves into. These are not bandits, they're mercenaries from some conflict. Battle hardened folk with plenty of big guns, which you folk sorely lack... But I suppose if one of you was willing to step up as sheriff that would be a start. There would have to be a vote of course, but I don't imagine many people voting against able to get things done."

He glanced in the direction of the gigantic dhasath who was getting up, nursing his head.

"Tarquin over there is the last deputy," the barman said, "Can get you into the station, along with anyone you choose to deputise. Then at least you'd be armed next time they come down."

James sauntered back in to the bar. The good "Captain" whistling merrily as he took in the lack of fisticuffs and splintering furniture. Brushing glass, dust and bits of food from his duster.

The Barman looked from Dusk to Charnud, grimaced, "I don't think you folks know what you're getting yourselves into. These are not bandits, they're mercenaries from some conflict. Battle hardened folk with plenty of big guns, which you folk sorely lack... But I suppose if one of you was willing to step up as sheriff that would be a start. There would have to be a vote of course, but I don't imagine many people voting against able to get things done."

"Big guns you say. I myself happen to be an expert on weaponry and its procurement. Allow me to offer my services in that regard." He flashed a smile that would rival that of a used car salesperson except for the warmth of the gesture. He made his way over to the much abused figure that was the Deputy Tarquin.

"You look rather under the weather. Let me help you back to your office. Then I will help you with those desperados and big guns in the hillside." James reached out to help steady the man. Despite the human's rather large size; the deputy still dwarfed him by a good bit. But the difference was not so awkward as James shrugged an arm over his shoulder and helped the dhasath totter down the street. " I have some tricks up my sleeve that I think you will be very interested in my slightly concussed friend."

Saeyeon Kim

“Must be some misunderstanding,” Saeyeon thought to herself, rubbing some of the bruises on her arms. The misunderstanding got a lot of people hurt and likely a lot of property damage for the owner of this establishment. However, the bartender did brought up some surprising news. The town appears to have been terrorized by human marauders, with the town being without a sheriff.

She exchanged glances with the others of the group. The town must be desperate that they’re willing to enlist a newcomer to be sheriff. Saeyeon thought about the possibility of her being a sheriff. No, she decided, too much responsibility that would require her to remain in this town and she’d prefer trying to leave this place as soon as possible.

However, there is the question of money and weapons. Currently, she has neither. Being a deputy, even temporarily, would likely give her some funds and weapons, though the weapons would probably be temporary. Maybe they’ll let her keep any weapons she picked up from the marauders. It will be a chance she would have to take.

“I have military experience,” she said. “I’d be willing to help out for now, at least as a deputy.” Maybe her and the others’ good works in this adventure would clear them of any bills for the property damages they have caused.

She followed Castleton and Deputy Tarquin out down the street.

Dusk stood there for a moment, taking in what the barman had said.

Sheriff.

That was not what he had expected and it sure as hell was not what he wanted. He had no desire to tie himself to this town, much less become its lawman. All he wanted was to get himself, Kim, and whoever else could be trusted off this planet.

Still, the town needed someone. That much was obvious.

Without a sheriff there was no order, just rmed men in the hills doing whatever they wanted. That made any attempt to leave perilous.

And it reminded him of why he had signed up for this deployment in the first place.

Whether he was the man for it, he did not know, but what he did know was that Castleton wasn’t.

Dusk watched the man saunter forward, smiling like he was selling something. The Marine’s eyes narrowed slightly at him as he vividly remembered what Castleton had suggested back in the desert. Fake bounty hunters acting as distraction to let the others steal what they needed and disappear before anyone was wiser.

That was not sheriff material. Castleton was exactly the kind of person who should not be handed a badge. Hell he might even hand the town to the bandits in the hills for all he knew, innocent people left undefended.

Dusk almost spoke up right there but held his tongue as he realized where he was. The saloon had barely stopped being a battleground and the last thing they needed was another argument in front of the locals.

Instead, he moved after Kim as she followed Castleton and the deputy out.

Saeyeon Kim
She followed Castleton and Deputy Tarquin out down the street.

Once he was close enough, Dusk lowered his voice.

“Kim.”

He glanced ahead toward Castleton, then back to her.

“We can’t let him be the one they pick.”

A short pause.

“You heard him back in the desert. First plan he had was to lie, rob these people, and disappear before morning.”

Dusk’s jaw tightened.

“Man like that can't be trusted with a badge.”

Neri watched the others head out. Apparently interested in taking on the responsibility of the law. It was, in her opinion, not the most sensible course of action.

"Well looks like a few of my crew have a death wish," she offered a hand up to the kiellar she had kicked between the legs earlier. He took her hand, letting her help him to his feet "No hard feelings?" she suggested.

He groaned, "Hey, you attacked me!" Neri protested as if the groan had been a refusal. She scooted onto one of the bar stools, "Whatever you've got that's strong enough to make all the bruises feel like they belong to someone else," she ordered, glancing over her shoulder. There was another kiellar who was still looking a bit dazed, "Put it on his tab."

That drew a chuckle from the barman and the kiellar she had helped up, "I'll pay for it," he grunted, taking the stool next to her, "Same for me." He drank his glass as soon as it appeared, slamming it back down on the counter, motioning for the bartender to pour another, "Your friends need to be careful. Those men in the hills don't want lawmen in this or any other nearby town. They'll kill them. Girls like you also tend to get taken," he finished darkly.

Neri took a sip of her drink, raising an eyebrow at the last (admittedly concerning) comment. Whatever the drink was, it burned, though not unpleasantly, "Given that threat, I figure I'll need a gun. Anyone in the mood to donate?" Nobody immediately volunteered, "Well then, seems my best course of action is to get deputised as well... once they've figured out a sheriff."

“I’ll follow later, in a bit,” Charnud said as his eyes followed the three humans following the Dhasath deputy. Despite only using minimal movements to disarm and trip the clumsy fools attacking him, moving at the speed of combat in standard gravity still took its toll. He had to get used to this, one way or another.

While the stated goal for most of them was to leave the planet, most sentient beings had what is called a conscience, and leaving this town to fend for themselves against a group of barbarians would naturally clash against that. Some had learned to suppress it, some never had it to begin with. Charnud, for his part, always tried to keep it intact. He may have been a pirate, but even pirates have standards.

That, and he was never quite prepared to be… evil.

Unfortunately, that didn’t matter to most authorities. He had to hide, after all.

Neri took a sip of her drink, raising an eyebrow at the last (admittedly concerning) comment. Whatever the drink was, it burned, though not unpleasantly, "Given that threat, I figure I'll need a gun. Anyone in the mood to donate?" Nobody immediately volunteered, "Well then, seems my best course of action is to get deputised as well... once they've figured out a sheriff."

“Well, one must first ask if you do know how to use a gun,” Charnud said to her as he remained by the bar counter. “Otherwise, eh, it may not do you much good if you can’t aim. Do you? It’s quite easy once you get the hang of it.”

He eyed the glass Neri had drunk from. “...also, drinking alcohol may impair shooting. Not that you can’t keep drinking if you want, if that’s what you want.”

After her dramatic exit through the saloon's window, Bandit landed in a heap of wood and glass debris. In a maneuver that would've carved up any flesh-and-blood burglar, she rolled sideways and scrambled to her feet to get a bead on her new surroundings. The last thing she needed was to leap out of the frying pan and into the fire, after all. For all she knew, there could be an angry mob waiting out here to finish what the drunkards inside had started and reduce her to squelchy scrap metal. Once her optical sensor re-calibrated to the bright afternoon sunlight, though, she found no hostiles poised to tear her limb from limb. Sure, there were a couple concerned passers-by drawn from the commotion inside the bar (not to mention the steady trickle of boozers from within, dazed and bruised as they licked their wounds) but for once the android wasn't staring down the barrels of any blasters. She sighed, letting out a cold puff of air from her neck hole, and rerouted her internal power off her combat systems. It looked like Bandit had successfully pocketed her ill-gotten gains and lived to purloin another day.

Having not properly copyrighted her escape strategy, however, Bandit quickly found herself with an imitator.

The android recoiled as one of the meatbags she'd been with crashed through another window and tumbled to a dusty, bedraggled stop nearby. To his credit, he didn't seem that much worse for wear, especially in comparison to the next unfortunate soul to be forcibly defenestrated. It was starting to get crowded out here, and if the bar brawl was about to be taken outside, Bandit did not want to wait around. Before she could beat a very hasty retreat, though, the din inside the saloon rather suddenly subsided. Bandit stood there for a moment, mentally optimizing her escape route as she tried to catch wind of what had transpired in her absence. In the end, she decided to plant her servos on the windowsill and stick her neck through the opening to see how the situation had evolved. After all, her prospects as a solo act seemed terribly shaky out on this inhospitable frontier. She'd seen the others' combat prowess firsthand, so there was no need to leave them for dead. In fact, she could easily imagine them taking control of the situation. When Bandit peered inside, that looked like just what had happened.

Over the course of a minute or two, it seemed, the locals had gone from trying to kill the marooned prisoners to entreating them for help. Not only that, but the huge fellow who would've happily put Bandit through a wood chipper a few moments ago was apparently what passed for a lawman 'round these parts. No wonder he hated her from the jump--cops like him could smell a wrongdoer from a mile away (which was her best explanation for how none of them gave her the benefit of the doubt, ever). From the looks of it, several of Bandit's accomplices were keen to forgive and forget the attempts on their lives as they accepted the townsfolk's request. Bandit could see the logic: if she and the others were officially helping the people here, the locals surely wouldn't try to kill them, and might even help them! Plus, if the hills here were rife with riflemen, going it alone would be even riskier than the android thought. With that, her own course of actions was decided. By the time Tarquin led Castleton, Kim, and Dusk back out into the sunlight, Bandit was out there waiting for them, posing like she owned the place (and hadn't just committed several misdemeanors). "Hey, pardners! Ready to wrassle us up some varmints?"

As the five set off, Bandit peered over her shoulder into the saloon where Charnud and Neri lingered. So, it would be the six of them from here on out, huh? No dangerous Ragon, no gassy space suit, no suave rogue, and no scary commando. There was safety in numbers, sure, but there were definitely some people the android could do without. Given the limited number of factions in play around here, maybe the ones who split off would turn up again later as adversaries. Only time would tell.

Charnud of Ingiros

...

“Well, one must first ask if you do know how to use a gun,” Charnud said to her as he remained by the bar counter. “Otherwise, eh, it may not do you much good if you can’t aim. Do you? It’s quite easy once you get the hang of it.”

He eyed the glass Neri had drunk from. “...also, drinking alcohol may impair shooting. Not that you can’t keep drinking if you want, if that’s what you want.”

"On the contrary, having a gun is just as important as shooting it," Neri replied, patting the stool next to her in an invitation for Charnud to take a seat with her, "If I point one with intent then whomever is at the receiving end has to consider that I might open fire. They then need to decide if whether whatever they want is worth the risk that blaster fire creates, which is to say, is what I want worth getting shot for? A weapon immediately changes the equation."

She took another sip of her drink, "Relax. It's not like those guys are coming back with a cache of weapons right away. And its not like we need to use them right away either. I can get blind drunk today and tomorrow I'll be sober! ... Not that I'm planning to get blind drunk."

---

...

Over the course of a minute or two, it seemed, the locals had gone from trying to kill the marooned prisoners to entreating them for help. Not only that, but the huge fellow who would've happily put Bandit through a wood chipper a few moments ago was apparently what passed for a lawman 'round these parts. No wonder he hated her from the jump--cops like him could smell a wrongdoer from a mile away (which was her best explanation for how none of them gave her the benefit of the doubt, ever). From the looks of it, several of Bandit's accomplices were keen to forgive and forget the attempts on their lives as they accepted the townsfolk's request. Bandit could see the logic: if she and the others were officially helping the people here, the locals surely wouldn't try to kill them, and might even help them! Plus, if the hills here were rife with riflemen, going it alone would be even riskier than the android thought. With that, her own course of actions was decided. By the time Tarquin led Castleton, Kim, and Dusk back out into the sunlight, Bandit was out there waiting for them, posing like she owned the place (and hadn't just committed several misdemeanors). "Hey, pardners! Ready to wrassle us up some varmints?"

@Terrans@InfamousGuy101@Badarby

Tarquin, the big Dhasath, looked between the trio of new companions, then back to Bandit. He scowled. Apparently he had not forgotten what bandit had been up to, "Your robot was robbing people during the bar fight. Might be a good idea to return the stuff. If you want people thinking that you're the upstanding kind of people that might give this town some kind of hope."

"I'll take you to the Mayor's office. If he likes the look of you, we can have an election. Probably be tomorrow at this stage."