[h3]John Dusk.[/h3]
[hr]

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.”