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Current Malfunctioning Space Toilet (favorite death post in RPG) : roleplayerguild.com/posts/4…
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10 yrs ago
Example of a "Character Flaw": roleplayerguild.com/posts/32..
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Okie dokie. I have yet to submit my proposed changes for Ash and James.





Also, I need confirmation about altering Schrodinger. A couple of his pics are broken.
...meanwhile...


Ashton poured another half glass of the lightly carbonated, orange-brown beverage, and immediately took a sip. "Impressive." he quipped about the burp. His delivery could be equally taken as sarcastic or serious. "I don't, um... talk much. Least, not unless I'm drinking. Congrats, you can tell folks you heard me make a speech." Thana glanced over towards him and smirked a bit. He held the bottle up, offering Thana more of the mystery fermentation. "You'd think sisters would be closer."

Holding her glass out she let Ash refill her as she pulled the chair out and took a seat. Running her finger along the rim of it she nodded slightly. "You would think that and don't get me wrong, would've like that but..." she said as she stared at the liquid frothing in her cup, "Zoie didn't like competition." Her voice was flat as she spoke, rather emotionless but there was a twinge of pain in her eyes.

The statement drew a touch of curiosity out of Ash. "Didn't seem like the type. But what do you mean by that?"

Thana's eyes darted up to Ash's. That had been the first time anyone had ever asked her that question. When she was growing up no one ever seemed to care about her opinion on anything. "Ever heard of the term the spare heir?"

"I've heard the "Heir and a Spare" phrase. Secondborn male's the Spare, takes over in case the first son gets hit by a truck or..." He moved his free hand in a circle, denoting that he was elaborating with something mildly absurd. ...eaten by dingoes or something. Literally the only reason a lot of noble families even bothered having more children." Ash took a sip of his thick, foamy beverage. "Not sure how that applies directly, unless your people were bluebloods."

Chuckling mildly Thana understood the confusion but she had a method to the madness. "Well as blue-blooded as a Southern family can get. Plantation and all. Zoie was born before me, that whole eight minutes made the difference between being the golden child and well, me." Taking a long pull of the beverage she shrugged a bit. "Zoie was fawned over and I was more or less kicked aside. Made for one very spoiled but charismatic child. Older she got the better at manipulation she got. On the surface everyone thought she was wonderful but if I dared do anything to take the attention off her for even a split second she turned vengeful." Leaning back in her seat she crossed her legs left over right and looked up from her glass to Ash, locking eyes with him as they narrowed slightly. "Everythin' from guttin' my carebears to uprootin' my begonias to wailin' on me physically. She was a monster but no one saw it but me, and no one believed anythan' I said," she said with bile and spite in her voice.

Shaking her head she downed the rest of it and barely kept from crushing the mug in her fingers. "So I lashed out, got in a lot of trouble but hey, bad attention from my parents and the cops was better than making Zoie feel inferior. Grounding and juvi were easier to deal with than Zoie on a rampage. So, when shit hit the fan for joy ridin' when I was eighteen I was given a choice. Prison or the military. Was an easy choice, both got me away from her; only one gave me a future. Joined the Navy and never looked back."

Pushing the empty glass back over towards Ash she closed her eyes and let out a disheartening sigh. "So here I am, the spare."

Nodding thoughtfully, Ash took his time trying to phrase his response. "Sounds like your formative years were FUBAR, thanks to your sister." stated Ash simply. "She made her own decisions. I saw plenty I wasn't happy about in her personality. She did her job satisfactorily and helped train our security, but I cannot say that we associated much outside of work. She confided most in Froggy... er, Victor Bonheur, our present Second and Medical Lead. You might want to speak with him, if you decide you want to know more about her life recently."

"Thank ya but no. I have no desire to deal with people who's had the wool pulled over their eyes," Thana stated flatly. After everything Zoie had put her through until the day she left home, there was nothing anyone could say to her to make her think better of her now deceased sister nor did she have any want to know what Zoie's life had been like since she had moved away from Leesburg.

Another sip. Ash was taking his drink with less haste than his guest. It was still early yet, so getting sloshed wasn't the priority. "If it helps matter any, I don't deal in spare people. You're Dr. Thana Martin, not Zoie's sister. Even if she was still with us, ma'am."

"Good to know, but I doubt from the reaction earlier other's would be willin' to give me that type of chance. And frankly I have no issues speakin' ill of the dead. Death does not wipe away the evil's of yesterday. With all due respect sir, I don't think my presence would make yer job with keepin' the peace an easy task."

"I'll be blunt, Lieutenant Commander." said Ash, putting on a more authoritarian voice. He was good with blunt; far better than he was with subtle. "I don't need more people overly swayed by sentimentality advising me. I have those. And my tasks aren't easy, anyway. Not one of them. Point of fact, it's a hell of a burden on good days. But I am the person in charge, and I'm the one who distributes who gets chances and who doesn't. If the peace is not maintained in this community, the offending parties will be removed from it, one way or another." His voice softened, "But I meant it when I told you that Newnan might surprise you. Lot of good people here."

"Well, at least one," Thana said with a sort of smirk on her lips. Looking around the room for a moment in thought before looking back over towards him. From her initial introduction with the town she wasn't sure about what he was saying but she would give the place the benefit of the doubt, for his sake. He seemed to be a straight shooter. "We'll see about the rest, only time will tell there. Will reserve a decision on my opinion for the town as a whole until later. I make no promises on whether or not I will remain until I can make a full assessment after some experience other than this; as long as I remain in the walls, you'll have the same loyalty I gave my country."

Ashton took the compliment and following promise of (temporary at present) loyalty with a slight nod. "I appreciate that, Thana. Really do. We need to discuss your sleeping arrangements next; I don't think that standard visitor quarters are appropriate, considering. But we can get to that a little later. We're having a wedding today. First one in at least four years, I'm betting. Hell of a reception planned. In the meantime, my house is at your disposal if you want to rest."

A wedding? Well that was not something she had been to in sometime. The last one she had attended was between a friend of hers from college and some jarhead. They didn't seem to really have anything between them other than well agreeing on a lot of things. Granted that was years ago. A wedding in this day and age seemed rare affair indeed but was he inviting her to the wedding? Cocking a questioning brow Thana looked Ash up and down a few times before saying anything. "Sir, considerin' it would probably be inappropriate for you to invite me on behalf of the marryin' couple I have to ask... Are you askin' me to be yer plus one?"

Well, that came out of nowhere. Not that the man generally spoke much, but Ash found himself speechless. The thought of bringing a "Plus One" had never occurred to him, let alone asking a lady he'd known for about an hour or so. This showed very transparently on his face, along with a smallish amount of embarrassment. After a couple seconds of trying to get words to come out of his face, Ash responded, "I really hadn't considered that. Or even staying very long at the reception. But I did recommend that you attend, and until the situation calms some you're going to want escort." With a mere sliver of forced formality, Ash concluded, "Yes ma'am. Plus One."

Thana watched the change in his features and was torn between laughing out right and holding her composure. She was able able to present the more respectful of the two thankfully. She hadn't meant to throw him off like that, she was just genuinely asking a relevant question in her mind. Nothing more, nothing less. Feeling the situation was a bit tense, Thana did what she usually did in such situations; made an inappropriate joke quoting something that might not get caught on about. "Glad to know it is on the up and up, because I could never fall in love with someone who didn't outrank me."

"Thank you, Major Houlihan." quipped Ash, hoping to God that she was making a M*A*S*H reference. He was familiar with the television show from back when he was a boy; it continued to be one of his favorites into adulthood. If she wasn't referencing the program, Ash was certain that he was in trouble. Keeping with the assumption, he prodded further. "Hey, was that a MythBusters reference earlier? 'Science'!" he inquired, raising his hand and pointing a finger skyward.

Thana couldn't help it at this point, she let out a small laugh and nodded. "Oh thank sweet Jesus you got the references, that would have been really damn awkward if you hadn't," Thana said with a light continued laugh and a nod of her head. "But if you hadn't, I guess it just proves that failure is always an option."

It was pleasant, guessing quotes from television programs of yesteryear. It was a little sad, there would be no new programming coming out again, probably in his lifetime. And what few reruns that were available were limited to whatever could be found on older format, and even then if one had the means to produce electricity. It did make for conversation once in a while, if you could find someone with similar tastes that was still among the living. "Yeah." he agreed noncommittally but wistfully. "Maybe for scientists. Us engineers don't always have that luxury." He smiled back and wet his palate with more of his homemade fermentation. "Still... Science!"

Thana half comically gave the science salute of the old TV show before her mind went back to when she had entered Newnan. "Speakin' of science, since I will be remainin' at least the evenin' with y'all permission to go get my ride and place it somewhere. That and disarm it," Thana asked, knowing it probably wasn't the best idea to keep it out there under guard like that all night.

"Absolutely ma'am. It is a little irresponsible to keep live explosives around a populated area. I'll escort you down to the gate, show you someplace you can stash your vehicle." He thought for a moment, "And considering everything, you have permission to recover your possessions." Ash tapped his sidearm before intoning, All of them."



Black James(!)



Location: Building A (Ash's House, exterior front) -> Parking Lot between 10 and Gilbert Street (present location of his smoker)




James didn't hear exactly what Ash and Miss Sally were discussing. All he knew was that the Captain had a disappointed look on his face, Thana had said something about leaving as soon as she could, and Miss Sally had asserted herself in a manner she usually did not, unless something was going down.

He was given a direct order to return to his smoker by a woman outside of his food chain, without the granted authority to tell him to blow his nose. But it was Miss Sally, so naturally James hopped to it with speed and exuberance. Like hell he was crossing that woman. Especially now.

It wasn't quite a run, wasn't quite a jog, but it was faster than James like to travel under his own power most of the time. He rounded the corner and threw open his precious, wood-powered meat cooker. The fire was still extremely low, the smoke respectable, and it still smelled lightly of seasoning and corn mash. Were those fragrances not present, James might have been concerned - it would have been indicative of a buildup of heat and/or scorching. Luckily, the Big Reveal only took a few minutes.

James opened the vents a little more, allowing more air to get into the bottom most chamber and thusly increasing the heat getting to the meat above. Now that he was back, he could keep a better eye on all of the lovelies he was in the process of cooking off for the blessed event later on that day.

Next: Blackneck Apocalypse Grits and Red Eye Gravy!





"Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers."


Location: St Etheldreda's, Chapel Undercroft





What began as a a flat sentry's post swiftly became an exercise in trust and nerve. This creature or force, once roused, appeared to be a primal piece of retributive spiritual energy. The warning to not interfere seemed less credible as it began its work. Sister Mary had a little reason to trust this Russian Noblewoman; that trust was barely enough to prevent her from attempting to insert a blessed weapon into the metaphysical form that appeared before them, or the suddenly noticeable budding Cargast in the corner.

Once it began to actually work, Mary had a better grasp on the nature of it. While her grip on her halberd remained, it stood upright at her side instead of partially in front of her in a partial guard stance. She let faith carry her decision to meekly allow the manifestation to complete its work, confidence building in her that she was safe. Oftentimes, the kindest of ministrations can appear cruel or frightening.

Elizaveta's request for water seemed appropriate, considering both the level of effort she had put into this task and the time it required. Sadly, there was not a lot in the way of creature comfort in the chapel undercroft. It was one of the reasons Mary found herself down there of often; an open space with practical isolation, little reason for the living to come down here on ordinary, daily business. Although every once in a while, Mary imagined that with the right lighting, the undercroft would make a compelling location for receptions or other celebratory events. Perhaps it was a bit improper. Suffice it to say, unless one brought water with them, it was not located here. The nearest place water fit for human consumption would be located was back above, in a rectory just off of the Chapel.

"I shall have that for you momentarily, Lady Romanova." Unless waylaid by some circumstance, Sister Mary expected to return in less than two minutes.


Keystone

Location: Yellow Rose Temple, exterior
Interacting With: Nor, Cyneburg, Guards




All things being equal, Keystone would rather have been sitting inside the bar with Sana, drinking something flammable and making crude comments about people around them. But things were most assuredly not equal. Perhaps there would be time for rest and relaxation later (Gods knew he had a little extra silver now to spend), but for now there were nonstandard injuries with which to deal. He headed out at a quick stride, and whomever wanted to follow could follow.

His purposeful stride nearly brought him into forceful connection with one of the more diminutive if broader races. The novelty of seeing a Dwarf out this far into Human and Orc claimed woodland was something to gawk about later on. He didn't break stride nor allow first passage for the individual he almost knocked over, but he did manage a quick (and remarkably well inflected) "[Pardon me.]" Demonstration of linguistic familiarity down, he pressed onward.

Cyneburg was the next to attempt conversation with Keystone. Thankfully she did not get in his way, and posed the question in such a way that did not require much in the way of explanation. "Temple of the Yellow Rose. Just north of 'ere. Follow if ya like."

The reaction from the guards, freely allowing entry to him, was slightly unexpected. He had assumed that he would at least have to answer a question or two about his intent, at the very least. Then again, when carrying a semi-to-unconscious woman into a place of, among other things, higher healing, there is a reasonable assumption of intent. The glance back at those flanking him was a little more understandable.

   ”Nah, they’re good. Anyways I think they are.” Keystone nodded his head at each of them in turn. ”Druid, Spiritual ‘ealer. Unconscious lady’s an unconscious lady what needs care. And if Master Yomdi ain't got a thing more pressin', we need council.”

With the same determined stride, Keystone entered the Yellow Rose Temple.
Yup. His Cha is due mostly to his scarring and general lack of sophistication. He's got other things going for him, granted. A terrifying intestinal tract probably doesn't help.

Otherwise he's an average looking guy with serious bulk and sculpting.
Yeah! He isn't exactly pre-origin Deadpool, but he sure as hell isn't post-origin Deadpool either.



Tell me this isn't a face you can get lost in. Kinda. N'mind.




Reginald Keystone



Location: Qasr El Nil Barracks




"...yes yes, quite..." mumbled Reginald in response to his nephew's suggestion to take the Rolls Royce. It made sense. It was there, they were there, they needed to get from point A to point B, and what with the alarms going off, the streets might very well have cleared somewhat. "Take excellent care of these people!" he called back into the Officers' Club, and toddled in the direction of the car.

The Lord Major climbed in the back of the fashionable (if older modeled) internal combustion carriage and made himself as comfortable as the situation allowed. His sabre, still sheathed and in his hand prior to entering, leaned against one knee with the tip of its scabbard between his feet. Not the proper tool for engaging an enemy inside of the vehicle, granted, but impossible to keep on one's belt while venturing out in the comfort and style provided by a Rolls Royce Silver Ghost.

"Driver!" he said smartly to, well, the driver... "Grand Continental Hotel. Yes, we are returning. And be quick about it, yes?" Leaning his head out of the window, Reginald addressed the patrol as they began to pull away from the courtyard, "On doubletime, men! Follow to the Grand Continental!" It was better to be safe than sorry, and any single perpetrator, or even small group would think twice before engaging an armed patrol of British regulars.

As the car exited the front gates of the Barracks, one could clearly make out a very enthusiastic, baritone voice regurgitate out a very common phrase of recent relevance, "...yes, lord MAJOR!"


Caesar Gonzalez


Location: Morgue



This seemed a fitting end to the day, as a whole. Someone else dead. Now granted, they were in a Morgue; a place that does a brisk business dealing with dead people, some several a day. But this was another instance of someone in this particularly unhappy collection of persons in and/or around the Boston Heights area losing someone they knew, like the primal forces of the universe were playing a gargantuan game of "Pin The Tail On The Donkey" with a few residents of Justice, California as their personal hindquarter-deficient beasts of burden.

Caesar wanted to care about this. Really he did. As quiet and businesslike of a front as he was putting up, though, his daughter and a lady who might as well have been his daughter were laying lifeless elsewhere in the room. He had a funeral to attend in Mexico and another to sign off for in South Carolina, luckily being planned by families and not himself. Mental note: Send a huge check to the Dunn family. Plus her unused vacation pay.

"Tomorrow morning, I am going to Mexico to lay M'hija to rest. And for that other reason, Cecily... If you want to stay here and handle more business, that's fine. I'll be back in a couple days. Otherwise, we need to start making plans." He looked over to the Detective, "It's not a bad idea for you to get out of town for a while, too." The members of Juno they had found out about so far were mostly based inside of the United States. While it may stand to reason that they may have an international following, Caesar was willing to bet that their influence would be felt a lot less in his family's stomping grounds of Monterrey, Nuevo Leon, Mexico.

"How well do you speak Spanish?" It was unclear exactly to whom he was speaking.


Schrödinger



Location: Across the street from Building A (Ash's House) -> Making His Move




The oddly tense situation with the alpha guy, strangely familiar looking human, and crowd around them out on the street seemed to bowl over into a display of emotion that spoke of very, very bad news:

No one was going to give Schrodinger food.

Well, this was entertaining, at least. Seeing the multiple bursts of various facets of human emotion was also something of a learning experience. With a sense of growing curiosity, Schrodinger quietly catted his way around the side of the group gathered in front of the domicile claimed by Alpha, and sat waiting to see what was going to happen next. He didn't have to wait too horribly long for more screaming drama to occur, this time from the house behind him. Humans made too much noise sometimes. Maybe it was some sort of mating ritual? Hmm... Hard to say.

While Schrodinger was puzzling out this latest puzzle of the Human Condition, a piece of yesteryear electronics came flying out of the window above the stalwart orange tom, nailing the hard concrete just to one side. Such a startle was very not necessary if they wanted him to move someplace else, but it sure as hell was effective. Schrodinger voiced his objection to the act with a solid, "MEOW!"1 and made a mad dash for the nearest place of shelter.

A striding leap and set of extended claws later, Schrodinger found himself on the railing of Ash's front porch. He couldn't tell if anyone had noticed his rapid ascent, but that didn't stop him from quietly jumping down onto the wood floor below. That door had to open sometime, and he aimed to get his furry ass inside ASAP. There was usually a warm fireplace in there, when he could get at it.





Ash Holloway



Location: Building A (Ash's House)




Ash wholeheartedly agreed with Miss Sally. He had to rectify this situation as best he could. The problem was, he was not what you'd call "good with feelings". Talking about them, dealing with them, nada. He could bark orders, make military plans, and/or hang out sipping whiskey with the best of them, but when speaking with others showing honest, real, complicated emotion, he was bereft of clue. He needed help. It was just a fact that if her emotional reassurance rested upon him, they were sunk.

Leaning in to Sally, Ash spoke quietly, "Ten minutes, organize a Welcome Wagon as best you can. No one in Newnan can guilt folks quiet like you, Miss Sally. Full setup for someone settling in - warm blanket, fresh clothes. Hell, if we've got any sweet potato pie or canned peach cobbler left from the other day, set that girl up. Condolence cards, if we've got any. Guilt the hell out of these people. I want hugs and smiles waiting on her, and folks knocking on my door to drop off casseroles and shit. Got me? Thanks, ma'am."

Ash looked disapprovingly out at the Newanites gathered before him. He holstered his weapon, finally remembering that he still had it out, and gave a long, sideways glance over to Dick and Ryan's place. He was not happy with the noise coming from there, not in the least. It was counterproductive to Thana's continued presence in Newnan, so far as he could guess. And given her qualifications (not to mention her face), it seemed like her arrival was kismet. Ash couldn't put a finger on why, but there seemed a purpose to her showing up. Leaving now, under those circumstances? It wasn't right. It was her decision to make, though. He just hoped he didn't inadvertently get her killed, too, if he changed her mind and stuck around.

He turned around and opened his front door, giving one last look at the people out front before stepping inside. He could have sworn that he felt something brush against his ankle, just barely, before he entered his house.

Ash waited a while for Thana to reemerge from the bathroom. He had set up two tumbler glasses and a growler bottle of milky, orange-brown liquid. He filled each of the glasses, and started monologuing. "I've never told anybody this, but I suppose it's a good enough time as any. I didn't like your sister very much. Now, I don't mean that I hated her - that's not accurate. But from the moment she set foot in Newnan, Zoie was loud, bossy, borderline insubordinate. Made herself at home faster than it was offered. She was my Second, as I told you before. I wouldn't have done it if she didn't get the nod of approval from a man whom I respected above any other living human being; Mexican legend, name of Caesar."

Ash took a sip of his drink and set it back down. He motioned her toward the other glass. "Caesar was a powerful, dangerous, insightful man. And he was the father of a woman who was very close to me. She died the day that your sister showed up. I'll give you the details another time, but there was a lot of death that day. He was able to see something in her that I could not. It was one of the last pieces of wisdom that he imparted before he died, and the reason why I made the decision to give her the position I did. In the end there were a LOT of job openings left that day. It made sense for many of them to be filled by people just arriving. People listened to her - especially the new ones. She was effective, but I still had my doubts. Something always felt a little off."

Another sip, this one deeper. "You really should try this. As a botanist, I'd imagine you might have a professional opinion to offer. But anyway, she was loved and appreciated here, my reservations aside. And never talked about her family, neither her nor your friend James out there. I guess it's difficult to talk about loved ones, when it's a lottery win for them to be alive at all. Hell, here's something else I've never told anybody: I have a brother unaccounted for out there, somewhere. Alive, Dead, walking around anyway... anybody's guess. My girlfriend from Before? Same thing. I'm just as certain they're dead as I am the sun will rise tomorrow. It's easier that way. Same as it is with those people out there."

"That's shock that you saw. Pure and simple. Well, maybe not Richard, he's a kind of a fuck-up regardless. I believe that right now, those people are picking their jaws up off the floor and realizing that you're not a joke or a mirage, and remembering their manners. Give them a little bit. Give Newnan a little bit to show you."

"And I'll tell you something else, Thana. Those reservations I had about Zoie? Don't have them about you."


Foy Coiffeur

Location: Retribution, Conference Room


"No, I retract my previous statement." remarked Foy, to absolutely no one. He hadn't the time to return to the Retribution before the shots rang out across the barren countryside of Whitefall. "THAT is a fine How-Do-You-Do..." Just as much as he would have loved to switch his rifle to full auto and spray the entire group into so much red, steaming confetti, the fact that Quinn was a corpse made the wording of his present contract highly unclear. Foy did not work with Highly Unclear. And it was a condition that would allow him to ethically break his Alliance contract with partial payment, if he so chose.

But he meant what he said earlier. The sudden examples of mortality didn't change the fact that Reavers were on their way, and deathly soon. "Well, wǒ de xīngxīng hé huāhuán..."1 A mild wind picked up, fluttering his very fine coat about him and revealing more of his tailored charcoal-grey suit. He pitched his voice louder, "I say, ladies, gentlemen... does this mean you do not wish to board our boat?" He waved them onward. "Come along, then. Time waits for no one."




The gentleman of action (and hot lather) disassembled and stowed his Callahan Full-Bore Auto-Lock back inside of his quarters. No sense in carelessly slinging a larger weapon with the potential of manifesting a hull breach. He maintained his other armament, apparent and less so, on his person. The most obvious of those being his matching Colt revolvers in a gunslinger's belt and extra large straight razor in a custom leather sheath. He wasn't about to offer the brunt of his hospitality until things smoothed considerably. They didn't know each other; just because they no longer had anything pressing to fear from him (as he was no longer rigidly bound by paper contract), didn't mean he had no concerns with them. Especially after the whole "murder chain" event that occurred while his back was turned. You can believe that the dapper fellow engaged the locks on his quarters.

Eventually, Foy found himself standing near to the aftmost doorway in the Conference Room. "I say, after this unpleasant show of establishing hierarchy and setting our plans to (preferably) not do one another injury, anyone wishing a cut, style, shave, or follicle update, perhaps a Core styled coffee and wrapped candy, please do find your way back to my parlor. I have been assured by the previous administration that it will remain a neutral oasis - one I hope the present administration will maintain. His voice lowered a bit with the last few words of his utterance, but his face remained open and cheerful. Carefully, he removed his bowler hat and held it at his side, surreptitiously covering one of his two sidearms as he allowed his palm to rest upon it.

Foy hated waiting. At least, waiting without gentlemanly distractions.





William Harper

Location: Retribution, Bridge -> Conference Room


Fore visuals revealed a scene unfolding which called for the immediate mobilization of what little Harper had access to on board his boat. He checked his own issued sidearm, and began procedures for immediate liftoff and hard burn away from a situation that, logically, could only end with a metric fuckton of death. Be it his own psychotic crew, these outlaws, or the twenty Reaver vessels he just warned everyone about, he was pretty sure that the best option was to go away, fast and solid, and let the chips fall where they may.

Then something odd happened. The shooting stopped, and they seemed to come to an understanding. William supposed that the pressing threat of terminal rape and cannibalism made strange bedfellows, and lets face it: No one deserves to die like that. Ok, very few people deserve to die like that. Fine - He needed both hands and one foot to count the number of people who deserved to die like that, but these people weren't on his list. Thinking about it, this little misstep could very well be the opportunity he was waiting for. And much sooner than expected. When personnel are eaten by Reavers, the Alliance doesn't even bother looking for a body. Not when an official report can be glossed over.

A few awkward moments later and Harper was taking orders from the lady they had come there to apprehend (among other things, apparently). Plotting a secondary course to the far side of the next nearest moon around Athens was easy. Hell, Harper didn't even have to log coordinates - a simple long-range scan gave him a real time location in space, and as soon as he could clear the atmosphere to get a visual, manual piloting to location was a cinch. To lessen the possibility of direct discovery, Harper kept the ship low and fast, then abruptly took them out into the Black.

He rode the gravity pull of Athens as best he could, giving the engines minimal burn. Less burn meant less signature, and he was fairly confident that the older models of Reaver vessels would have difficulty trying to track an up to date Alliance ship that might or might not have been there in the first place. As they drifted closer toward the next nearest of Athens's moons, Ormuzd, Harper addressed Anisa Crowe in a quiet but clear voice.

"Captain Crowe, I would very much like a private audience with you after you are done addressing the crew. It will prove a very interesting conversation, I can promise you."




The Retribution was in static orbit on the far side of Ormuzd, unreachable by direct sensor or communication from most anything Whitefall had to offer. Harper had powered down the patrol boat to minimal energy use, and proximity alerts were cranked to eleven. He took the usual spot for a senior officer around the conference table, just to the side of the Captain's place. He intended to show some measure of solidarity, unless the situation expressly dictated otherwise.

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