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Futuristic Burning Sails [OPEN]

Amy helped carry Damien back to the ship. The station had decended into complete chaos as people became desperate to find their way out. Despite being a bunch of pirates, the Reavers were letting people on board so they could escape with seemingly no strings attached. There was no roughing up, no extortion, no pocket picking. Where did Valk find these guys?

Eventually, they made it inside and into the med-bay. It took Amy a few seconds to realize what was going on once she saw Valk break down. She froze and let the Reavers take Damien off her shoulder and help him.

"Valk, I'm so sorry." She said before she had to leave. Their doctor was preparing to do his work and needed to prepare. There wasn't much else she could do in there, so she left to follow after the larger man that was carrying Lauren. Only ting she could do was help steer as many people to safety as possible.
 
After quite some time spent strolling through the marketplace, accumulating various components needed for some much-needed repair work on the Mordred. Of course, Pearl also made sure to pick up several miscellaneous objects that interested the Sanghvi. Such as a modest collection of Asimov novels for Damien and a pair of new bronze knuckle dusters for Lauren.

Gorg, a massive example of the Trogg species, slowly trailing behind Pearl. Gorg lumbered forward careless, only making the occasional glace to their left and right before staring back at Pearl with their black, beady eyes.

Pearl slowed down for a few seconds, noticing a brewing sense of confusion among the crowds. Pearl was quickly able to figure out that communications to and from out of the station were unavailable, as were other means of extranet activities.

While odd and very much frustrating for pretty much very here. Pearl casually reasoned that it was simple technical issues due to the aging and haphazardly maintained infrastructure of this station and its support network.

Meanwhile, Gorg started to breathe heavily, rapidly scanning the area and slowly reaching their hand down to the hostler on their belt.

Pearl's hand swiftly grabbed Gorg's arm, "Please..." Pearl said softly to them, staring into their dark, beady eyes. "It's a simple technical issue... I'm sure of it."

They stared at one another, eyes locked, for a moment before Gorg let out a muffled exhale from their respirator and shrugged their large shoulders. Pearl carefully removed their hand from Corg's arm and patted him on his lower back.

"Thank you for understanding, Gorg..." Pearl said to Gorg in a comforting voice, trying to ease the giant's anxieties. "Valencia and rest should be done here soon enough, so let's get this done, and we can all get back to ship so you can relax, big guy..."

Pearl continued to shop about, excitedly browsing about the countless shops lining the square with a burning curiosity. Gorg let out a loud sign as they marched on. Tightening the straps running along their broad chest and checking their respirator before wiping their pale, scarred with a wipe of their cold, robotic hand.

"Gorg... Gorg!" Pearl yelled out as the digital eyes on their visor flared up as they stumbled upon a humble stall next to the hangers with an older woman looking onward at them. Pearl pressed their hands or what could be considered their hands; onto the table with delight. Eying down the various pieces of Metal music memorabilia. A particular vinyl looking be one of Valencia's favorite bands caught their eye.

Gorg gave Pearl a simple nod, holding on to the harness that carried a cumbersome duffle bag that nearly dwarfed Gorg's chest in sheer size, Containing dozens upon dozens of different pieces of machinery and trinkets. Gorg hunched over and slowly begin to down it gently so Pearl can add yet another object to it.

Yet, Gorg abruptly stopped dead in their tracks as they walked up to the shanty stall, Dropping the enormous duffle bag to the ground where it made a loud thud before spilling out a few loose gears from the top.

Pearl worriedly looked over, quickly adopting a much more worried posture with their hands close together.

"Gorg?" Pearl askes softly, visibly shaking as they saw Gorg stand perfectly still.

Gorg suddenly dashed over to shield Pearl at a speed deceiving of their massive bulk. Throwing in front of Pearl as a rocket flew straight at the stall.

The stall, along with that side of the corridor, was engulfed in a fiery explosion that nearly blasted a hole in the station's hull.

Immediately followed by gunfire, a squad of armored figures opening up with their rifles. Blasting off a volley of automatic fire into the smoke cloud as other troops start shooting up the whole square. Surgically taking down the vendors and shoppers nearby before they could even react, swiftly killing them all one by one.

The Blood Corps fired a whole barrage of plasma and gauss gunfire into the smoke cloud with the Section's Captain unloading his machine gun into it, Continuing for several seconds before stopping.

The others nearby gathered to look and await their Captain's orders.

["Alright..."] The Captain muttered in his native tongue while stowing away his spent machine gun.

["Check it. Thermals can't see anything."] He said before pulling back the heavy bolt on his GPSAW, dropping the drum-magazine onto the cold steel floor, rattling among the spent shells lining it as his men looked back at him.

["But Sir-"] One of the troopers grunted before the Captain cut him off with an angered glare. His weapon's barrel hissing with smoke as he held visor onto him.

["Understood..."] The trooper mumbled, gesturing to two others to follow him as they moved forward.

The Three soldiers walked up, weapons at the ready, towards the smoke cloud. The smoke gradually dissipated as they walked up through the scorched marks and bullet holes to find a flaming, soon-to-be collapsing shack.

["Area seems clear..."] One stated as they found nothing of interest at the burning wreckage.

["Seems?"] The Captain angrily slatted out towards him, ["Pirotiry Delta requires full confirmation, Corporal..."] He said to him with a frustrated glare on his face under his helmet's shaded visor.

The Corporal exasperatedly gestured back at him while one of his squadmates stepped away from him. Another step up close to the fire, hand trying to shield them off the heat as they inspected it. The Corporal's back half-way turned away from the burning shanty stall. Sounds of glass shattering, wood burning, and steel creaking echoed throughout the halls. Only occasionally drowned out by distant gunshots and screams elsewhere.

Part of the stall's wall would suddenly be violently propelled through the air towards one of the men on the right, shattering explosively on impact and throwing the Captain and his nearby men onto the steel floor before the Captain could even start to scold the Corporal.

["SHIT, SHIT!"] Corporal yelled as he tried to aim his rifle towards the shack. A somewhat burning but still very much alive Gorg rushed forward, charging the trooper closet to the fire with a heavy shoulder bash. Gorg then swatted another trooper with their enormous, burning duffle bag. Making a thundering clunk as the duffle bag made contact with his body, breaking bones with the extensive weight of this improvised maul.

The Corporal frantically fired a burst from their carbine, most shots going wide with a few glancing off of the charging giant's armored hide before Gorg threw their weight behind an overhead swing of their duffle. Smashing the Corporal's body as it made contact with their right shoulder, shattering most of his bones in that side of his body.

The Captain was thrown back against a nearby utility auto-cart. Quickly regaining his sensings as he scanned over his squad. Subblming that the one that got hit directly with the wall had their throat torn open from the impact.

The other Troops nearby hastily tried to regroup and take aim at the murderous monster. After stomping down on a slumped Tropper's head, Gorg swiftly charged a pair of troops preparing to fire at them. Gorg was able to smash both of them with a wide swing of the bag before they could have taken their shot.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Blood Corps section started to fire onto Gorg with their rifles. While their shots hit the charging monster's hide, it did little to slow them out as they proceed to bash their skulls in one after another in rapid succession.

The Troopers soon lost their nerve at the sight of this blood-covered, bone-shattering monster that had just crushed an entire squad. The rest of the section fired madly at the beast to no avail as they scattered about the area in chaos.

The Captain had managed to pull themselves away from madam, crawling under the burning debris and destroyed motor-carts, carefully dodging a smashed-up body or two thrown over him as he made his way away from this madness.

Eventually, after slaying a dozen or so Blood Corp Troops with just a duffle bag filled with junk and their bare hands, Gorg. Who was now covered in plasma-burns, bullet-holes, and mostly not their own blood. Carried Pearl, who was stapped onto their back harness, marched back towards the Mordred's hanger as a fellow Reavers, backed by surviving security guards, armed civies, random mercs, and Frontier Militiamen were able to locate them.

Gorg was gravely wounded, bleeding from various entry holes across the front side of their body. The armor was all but blown off and hide charred from plasma-fire. Yet, Gorg carried on with an unconscious Pearl lifeless strapped onto their back.

The Sanghvi was wounded as well. Pearl's outer-shell had been cracked like their visor. With a deep, serious crack on the front of their body's carapace. Thankfully, nano-foam and medical-gel had quickly sealed it and prevent any further injuries. Yet the Sanghvi would effectively be out cold due to their body's natural defense mechanisms putting Pearl into a comatose state.

Despite the various injuries sustained, Gorg marched onwards, hunched over in severe pain. Stopping, dropping the bent and ripped duffle to clinch their bloody gut.

Stumbling back and forth for a moment before finally making their way onto Mordred's halls

Finally, Gorg fell onto their knells and knelled over with Pearl alive on their back.

Nearby Reavers, including another Trogg by the name of Talger, helped both Pearl and Gorg into the med-bay. Both were alive, injured but alive.
 
"I tried what I could to save him, but the power unit on his heart took the hit. There's... unfortunately not anything I could have done." He pauses for a second before leaning in a little closer. "But for now, rest. Once we are cleared of the station, and god willing the Blood Corps too, the anesthetic will pour in and I will begin operating. You would not want my hand to slip because of the ship being struck."

Valkyrie continued to cry profusely, staring at the body of Uric nearby on a table. It wasn't until Damien patted her on the arm that she finally looked towards him and Typhon. "...You heard him, mom. Let him fix you up." he said, before glancing to Typhon. Valk hesitated for a few moments, looking back to Uric's body, before eventually laying back and shutting her eyes.




The station continued to fall rapidly, the vibrations and rumbling growing stronger and louder. They didn't have much time left before it hit the ground, so they needed to act as quickly as possible. The hole that they had been burning into the blast door was big enough now for the Mordred to fit through, but they still needed to break through it. Otherwise, the Mordred risked simply crashing into a hot metal wall. And soon enough, Olivia returned with her mech. A ten foot tall bipedal mech, armed with some sort of rifle. As she arrived and saw the group attempting to shoot through the wall, she offered her assistance. Marching across the hangar bay, she took aim and opened fire on the wall with her heavy rifle. The massive shots from the weapon greatly helped, chipping away at the hot metal until finally, the hole opened up. They were finally through.

The gunners continued to shoot, with the help of the turrets and Olivia's mech as she approached, while the civilians made room inside the cargo bay of the Mordred. Outside, the group could see debris being ripped off the side of the colony. Fire roaring past the hangar, along with strips of hot metal. They could also see a blue sky and fluffy white clouds just past that...but couldn't see the ground rapidly approaching just yet. Soon, the hole was large enough to work with. "A tight squeeze, but I've seen worse." muttered Aesha, as she started cycling through switches and controls. Then, she flipped on the Mordred's intercom. "TIME TO FUCKING GO!" she spat, her voice echoing through the hangar bay.

Olivia was quick to move over and squeeze her mech into the Mordred's cargo bay, forcing the civilians inside to squeeze against the right wall. A few more civilians were forced inside, barely allowing for room to move, and now it was just a matter of Dan reaching the ship. But that wouldn't happen. The colony hit some major turbulence, rocking it intensely as one of the arms of the colony was ripped completely off. They could hear the metal ripping away, and the shattering of glass that followed. The colony had been breached above them.

Down in the hangar bay, the turbulence forced bits of the hangar's roof to collapse, falling inward and crashing around the Mordred. Some bits bounced off its roof, damaging the top mounted turret but otherwise leaving it unharmed. However, large chunks of debris landed near the hangar defense station. Sealing Dan inside. They couldn't mount a rescue mission, as there was just no time. Everyone would die if they stayed there. The Reavers still in the hangar bay quickly rushed aboard the Mordred, slapping the button on the side of the cargo bay to shut its ramp. It closed quickly, and soon Aesha would get to work.

The Mordred lifted off the deck of the hangar, spinning about quickly and taking aim for the hole in the blast doors. "HANG ON TO SOMETHING!" she shouted through the intercom, and a moment later, the Mordred darted towards the hole. There was a loud screeching noise that lasted for maybe a split second, as the sides of the Mordred rubbed against the rough edges of the hole in the blast door before bursting out of the hangar and into the atmosphere of Vileas. Bits of metal clacked and bounced off the underside of the Mordred, before the ship finally cleared the side of the Colony and began its ascent away. They needed to as far from the colony as possible, before it hit the ground.

Two minutes passed, as the Mordred ascended into the atmosphere. Then suddenly, there was a thunderous boom below. The colony had finally collided with the ground, and the overloaded reactors did just as the Blood Corps intended for them to do. All three detonated in spectacular fashion, unleashing a massive blast far greater than any nuclear weapon ever built. Aesha throttled up on the Mordred, forcing the ship to pick up speed and climb higher. And soon, the blackness of space came into view. They had escaped. Barely.

The Blood Corps were gone, leaving only debris of destroyed ships and vessels in their wake. There had been a slaughter both inside the station as well as outside, it seemed. "They really didn't want anyone leaving." muttered Aesha, as she looked out the window before her and down to the ship's scanners. Suddenly, a blip appeared on the radar. A small ship, the size of a fighter. The fighter did nothing, simply sitting where it had warped in. As if it was taking in the sight of the debris and lack of VOC-1. Was it a Blood Corps scout checking on things?

Aesha thought so, until she noticed the Mordred being hailed. She reached over and tapped a few buttons on the holoscreen next to her. Before Aesha could speak, however, the one on the other end spoke. "It seems that I have arrived far too late... Aesha, we should return to the Guillotine. I need to speak with Valkyrie, Lauren, and Damien as soon as possible."

Aesha's face twisted into one of sheer confusion. "Who the hell are you?" she responded. The voice on the other end replied with "That will be explained as well. I am going to latch onto your vessel's roof magnetically. Brace yourselves."

The fighter, oddly shaped and blackish purple in color, darted over to the Mordred. It reoriented itself, turning around and eventually settling down onto the roof of the Mordred with a THUNK. Then, the magnets activated, and the fighter was locked into place. "Let's go. Quickly." said the voice through comms again. Aesha groaned, shaking her head before punching in the coordinates to the Guillotine. And a moment later, the Mordred's warp drive activated. The pair of ships disappeared, leaving behind the field of debris and destruction on the surface of Vileas.



A few systems away, two hours later...


Roku snapped to attention, as a nearby bridge crew member pointed out an incoming warp signature. He swivelled around in his floating chair, looking to the black haired human woman at the controls. "Is it the Mordred?" he asked, standing up. She nodded. "Yeah, its the Mordred. Bosses must have finished up what they were doing...weird that they didn't send us any messages, though."

When the Mordred appeared nearby, another crew member spoke up. A male kanad, wearing a headset which covered most of the upper portion of his ears. "Incoming comms." he called out. And soon, Aesha's voice crackled through communications. "This is the Mordred. VOC-1 was attacked and destroyed by Blood Corps. We've got multiple wounded, including the bosses, and a lot of civis onboard. Need a medical team and a security team in the Mordred's hangar bay, asap. We got a hitchhiker latched to us. Keep an eye on them when we land."

Oh fuck, the Blood Corps? "Understood, Mordred." responded the comms officer, before looking to Roku. Roku looked to him, then around the bridge. "Don't fucking stand there! You heard her!" he stated loudly. And soon enough, the ship was buzzing with activity. Crew members getting to battle stations, preparing in case the Mordred was followed. As requested, a team of medical personnel lead by Easel rushed to the Mordred's hangar bay, as well as a security team armed to the teath.

The Mordred soon landed in the hangar, touching down gently. The fighter latched to the top unlatched, before gently floating over and landing next to it. The cargo bay ramp dropped, and out came the numerous civilians. Almost immediately, they were jerked about, being pulled off to the side and held at gunpoint. The fighter sat silently, as Reavers surrounded it. Guns leveled on it and its pilot.

The medical team got to work, moving to get Valk, Lauren, and Damien first. Pearl and Gorg were next, and then others that had been wounded during the incident. Easel made sure that everyone was careful, as to not worsen any wounds they may have sustained. Typhon was brought along with her.
 
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It had taken quite a bit of effort, but finally a hole had been blown through the blast doors just barely large enough to allow the Mordred to escape. Dan simply yelled out in relief before releasing his grip on the gun controls. His hands throbbed and hurt by having held onto them with such tension but he finally had relief that they were able to get out. "Alright, I'm heading back-" he began to say over his comms before a massive rumble interrupted him before the sound of metal breaking and tearing roared throughout the station as it fell through the atmosphere. The resulting chaos send Dan to the floor and also blocked his only means of getting out of the defense station and back to the ship where everyone was at. Realizing the situation, he made the only call he could: "GO! GET OUT OF HERE!" he yelled into his comms as he watched the Mordred make its narrow departure through the hole that had been made and fly off.



With the knowledge that Vella was safe, as was all those he had traveled with to get there, he simply sat down with back to the control terminals and gave off a sigh. He knew he was going to die, and he was afraid and yet... he was comforted by the fact that he wouldn't have it any other way. He did what he had to, and he hoped that in the end those people would make the most of it. He then stood up, wrapping some loose cables around his hand that were hanging from the ceiling for support as he watched more and more of the station come apart as the ground came closer. He took a few deep breaths and no longer felt fear. He only felt regret that he couldn't have spent more time with the one he had chosen to spend the rest of his life with, but was comforted by the idea that she would live on.

He didn't know if anyone was listening by this point, or if the comms even worked, but he pressed his hand towards it to speak: "I... I'm so glad I met you Vella." he said, tears beginning to drop from his eyes as he watched the ground approach faster and faster from where he stood, "I'm sorry that I couldn't make it... I'm sorry that it has to be like this. But I want you to know that I love you-" he managed to get out before impact. In an instant, he felt nothing and was at peace.

Back on the Mordred, Vance was helpless to do anything as he watched VOC-1 impact the surface of the planet and detonate from one of the ship's viewing ports. He was in disbelief at first before realizing that Dan was gone. He sat down against one of the walls and stared blankly out ahead with labored breaths. "Oh god." he whispered as sorrow washed over him. How was he going to tell Vella?

---

After having arrived at the Guillotine, Vance refused medical treatment for himself from several of the medical staff and insisted others get it first. His wounds would heal fine on their own, but that wasn't what he was on his mind about. He didn't like showing his emotions, but inside he was on the verge of breaking. He just lost a good friend... one he failed to protect. Another failures on the long list that Vance blamed himself for. He didn't even have time to grieve properly as he noticed the people he worked so hard to protect to now be held at gunpoint. He simply approached the pirates terrorizing them and spoke: "Take your guns off them or I'll kill every last goddamn one of you." he spoke with a cold fury.
 
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Typhon looks up from tightening the mask on Valkyrie's face to see a rather tall woman approach him; requesting him to follow her to the Guillotine, though he examined her closely before moving out with Valkyrie's gurney. He wasn't informed there'd be other medical professionals working with him, but was nonetheless welcoming of any help in his station. Some Reaver medics also arrive shortly however, and take help Typhon moving his patients and his equipment too. Though it seems there's a little situation brewing when they reach the finally exit the Mordred and move into the Guillotine's hangar proper. Some human's getting upset that proper security measures are being taken apparently, especially after an attack which almost killed the fucking captain herself. He sighs and shakes his head.
"Take your guns off them or I'll kill every last goddamn one of you."
"Belay this outsider's order." Typhon sternly says towards his fellow Reavers while also giving Vance a demeaning wave of his hand. "Check them for weapons, and for fangs." he adds, pointing to the civilians.
 
"Check them for weapons, and for fangs."

As Typhon spoke to the Reavers whom were securing the civilians, Aesha was walking down the ramp off the Mordred. And she managed to catch his last statement. "Motherfucker, I have fangs! A third of the Guillotine's crew here have fangs! Having fucking fangs doesn't make you the enemy!" she spat, pointing at Typhon.

She glanced over to the Reavers, whom were turning their attention to Vance. Guns up. "Woah, hey, settle down now. No need to--" she managed to get out, quickly jogging towards the group. She was interrupted by a familiar female Khergian voice, coming from a now armored woman that just arrived in the hangar. "Team watch people. Drav handle human." she said loudly, as she marched towards Vance. "Human sit, or Drav make sit."
 
"Motherfucker, I have fangs! A third of the Guillotine's crew here have fangs! Having fucking fangs doesn't make you the enemy!"
Typhon rolls his head on his shoulders; irritated that Aesha might've forgotten the possibility the Blood Corps might've snuck on board. If they really were there to kill pirates, why wouldn't they? He grunts loudly before looking back at her. "To check for Blood Corps fangs, Aesha..." he says, turning back to follow the gurneys.
 
Vance simply stared at Drav: "I'll sit when they're safe." he replied, pointing towards the civilians. "And that means taking your guns off them. Got it?"
 
Aesha glanced to Typhon, before rolling her own eyes and returning her attention back to Drav and Vance. "Drav, come on. They're just civilians and a few guards from VOC-1. Boss told us to bring them with us. They're not gonna--" she said, before Drav interrupted. "Security. Bosses hurt. Don't know them. Might be enemy. Team watch people. If sit still, no shoot." responded Drav, before looking back to Vance. "Human sit down."

Suddenly, the hatch on the fighter nearby popped open. The Reavers around it twitched, keeping their weapons trained on the fighter's cockpit. And out of it stood a woman wearing a long extravagant black robe. Well, a feminine android, really. "I believe I have been forced to sit in my ship long enough." stated the android, before looking about around the fighter at the Reavers taking aim at her. "I mean no harm, I assure you. May I step down, please?"

Aesha was quick to respond, drawing the pistol from her thigh holster and pointing it at her. "No the fuck you may not!" she spat, "Stay the fuck where you are, and tell me who you are right now!" The Reavers surrounding the ship continued aiming at her, watching the android. The robed android sighed, pressing a hand to her smooth faceplate, before speaking. "My name is Eve. I am Valkyrie's one and only EVE-class android. She built me just before the Starvis crisis. I was there on the surface of Starvis, and experienced the events firsthand while she left to found the Reavers."
 
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"Take your damn guns off them, until then the answer is still no."

Drav stared down at Vance for a few moments, ignoring what was going around them, before speaking again. "...You not smart, human." she responded, and took a step towards him as her fists tightened. Another voice stopped her. "Drav, that's enough." called out Zadra, as she strolled across the hangar bay to where they were. She was wearing an orange utility suit, rolled down and tied around her waist. The white top beneath it was covered in black stains, a mix of oil and soot. In her hands, a pipe wrench. "Lower your weapons, but keep an eye on all of them. Check them all for weapons, and disarm the VOC-1 guards over there." she added as she soon arrived. Drav grunted, stepping back as she continued to stare down Vance. The Reaver security team complied, however, lowering their weapons and proceeding to check each of the civilians for weapons.

Zadra then glanced over to Aesha and the droid standing atop the fighter. "And who's this?" she asked, looking between the android and Aesha as she stepped over next to the Humyri pilot. "Some android named Eve. She claims Valk built her back before Starvis." she responded, lowering her weapon as she looked to Zadra. Zadra looked surprised, shifting her full attention to Eve. "...I've heard of you. Valk told me a bit about you after the Starvis stuff cooled off...Be glad you weren't here when Jester pulled her shit."

Eve nodded. "Indeed. I am glad. In my early form, I likely would have not been able to resist her viral intrusions." said the droid. Zadra looked to the Reaver security team around the fighter, before motioning them to lower their weapons. As they did, Eve stepped down gracefully from her fighter. Strolling over to meet the pair. "I need to speak with Valkyrie, Lauren, and Damien as soon as I can. It's about the incident aboard VOC-1, and just what you all have walked into."

Zadra raised an eyebrow. "And what is that, exactly? The Blood Corps are known to do some pretty insane things. We caught the shit end of it this time." she replied. Eve gently shook her head. "Look at the news on starnet right now." stated the android. "Alright..." muttered Zadra, drawing her holotablet out of her pocket and turning it on. A few moments later, her eyes went wide as she looked at a variety of news channels.

On every single news channel she found, out of the galactic factions as well as independent news organizations, a major story was breaking. The destruction of VOC-1, as well as the mass destruction caused by its detonation on Vileas. A few million reported dead on the station, and the body count on Vileas climbing rapidly as the damage was tallied from the station's collision and explosion. And whom everyone was labelling as the perpetrators of this attack?

Blackwell's Reavers.

"Holy shit." she muttered, as images of Valkyrie, Lauren, Damien, herself, Slade, Chang, and several others started to appear on the different stations. The broadcasters discussing their involvement in the attack, as well as playing video footage acquired from the station. Reavers attacking people en mass. Valkyrie shooting some of them herself.

Other photos were shown of supposed accomplices. Zadra glanced back, looking at the others whom had stepped off the ship. Every one of them was being labelled an intergalactic terrorist, right alongside the Reavers. Even the man whom Drav was about to fight. Zadra looked back to the tablet. Galactic factions were condemning the attack outright, calling for the Reavers' heads. And the bounties on their heads were rapidly climbing.

She looked back to Eve, a look of total shock on her face. Eve casually pointed to her, before speaking. "Anora has framed you all."



All the wounded were transported through the Guillotine, with Easel gracefully walking right alongside Valkyrie's gurney opposite of Typhon. She glanced down to Valkyrie, inspecting her boss rather thoroughly using her helmet's scanners. So far, the new doctor had done quite well. Nanomachines would be needed to mend her injuries rapidly, as well as a replacement for her lost arm. That was the Chief Engineer's department, though. She would have to inspect the other two once they were inside the medical bay, as well as Pearl, Gorg, and Vixaya. A Sanghvi was a little more difficult to treat, but not impossible.

"Excellent work, doctor. I'm rather glad Valkyrie was able to locate a proper doctor and surgeon before everyone sustained such injuries." stated Easel, looking to Typhon as she walked.
 
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Olivia frankly, didn't want to think about what the hell just happened right after the Mordred peeled out of the station. Suited up in the mech, gripping a half-full rifle in its hands with a grip so tight it was straining the motors of the hands on the gentle rumble of the ship's approach to their. Uh. Mothership.

Touching down in the hangar, only for the crowd to be met with weapons and hands dragging them off of the ship. Great. It was only after the easy pickings were accounted for that there was a good three... four... five new pirates levelling their weapons right at the mech inside the hangar. Then prompting Olivia to raise the rifle she was really hoping she wouldn't need to use more today. "...Y'know, I uh, helped save your boss, so... how about we call it even here, right?" Not to mention the fact that she's sure that those weapons really aren't gonna do anything to a suit like this.
 
After narrowly surviving the destruction of the station Nathalie allowed herself to sigh with relief. On second thought, perhaps working in the Renegade Quadrant is a bit too interesting...

Suddenly the thought of working as a bodyguard for a wealthy CEO or government leader in a remote location didn't seem as dull and boring as before. Nathalie sighed once again and seated herself against a wall inside the Mordred's cargobay.
Once the Mordred arrived at its destination- an even larger pirate vessel- Nathalie disembarked alongside the other recruits and survivors only to be rounded up and held at gunpoint.

The Reaver in front of her cocked a pump-action shotgun. Looked to be plasma. The Trilothian behind the weapon gave her a cocky grin- despite being much shorter- and blinked slowly. Nathalie watched half-amused as his third eye blinked much later than the others, causing muscles in the pirate's face to twitch briefly.

Unimpressed, Nat gave him a rather disapproving look from behind her visor before raising her hands. The Trilothian looked very satisfied with himself until another member of the pirate brass told the security team to take it down a notch.
Frowning, the pirate lowered his weapon. Nathalie responded by lowering both of her hands and by retracting her visor.

"Check them all for weapons..."

The Trilothian hesitated, studying Nathalie's briefly before look at her from the bottom up.

Nathalie narrowed her eyes and lifted her poncho slightly to the side, revealing a rather intimidating sidearm and a standard-issue SSOID knife with the latter being completely black.

"Don't even think about it, pal."
 
"Excellent work, doctor. I'm rather glad Valkyrie was able to locate a proper doctor and surgeon before everyone sustained such injuries."
Typhon looks over at this woman with a confused look initially, but smiles and nods back at her. Receiving a compliment for his work is somewhat of a rare thing among pirates; they'd rather just shove him away and throw whatever credits they owe in his face. Then they'd go off on a raid, get injured again, and then yell at him to fix them up... if they didn't get killed first.

"Why, thank you." he responds. "Though luckier still is that we escaped alive in the first place."
 
Certain death was now behind them as Amy stepped on the bigger ship. Valk had been doing alright by herself if she had an entire fleet at her command. The opinion of her crew changed a bit as the rougher parts started again. So much for the non-standard piracy. One of the goons even tried to make sure that the bounty hunter wasnt carrying anything.

"Don't fucking think about it, dipshit!" She snapped at him while pointing a finger towards his neck "I'm a friend of your captain, killed about twenty-five of those Blood corps goons and carried her son to the ship we came with, so unless you want to spend the rest of your time washing shit off the ground, move on and jerk off in the corner or something." That was enough for him to back off "Unbelievable." She muttered to herself as she noticed that she was getting messages. It wasn't just a few. It was a straight up bombardment. Contact were cutting ties and burning bridges, people were confused, betrayed and angry over something that she had no idea about. One message stood out. It was from Seth. 'You mind telling me what in the blue hell happened there?' She oppened the link and it became clear to her. The Reavers were set up to take the fall for the station and just about everyone who took up arms against the Blood corps were marked as accomplices. Her included.

Once again, Amy Koronova found herself sharing a bounty with Valk that could make a lot of people very rich.

"Just like old times..." She muttered with frustration as she closed her eyes in an attempt to calm down "....FUCK!"
 
"Why, thank you." he responds. "Though luckier still is that we escaped alive in the first place."

"Indeed." responded Easel. They continued on, walking through the extensive and wide corridors of the Guillotine to the medical bay. Once they arrived, they got straight to work. Valk would need tending to first, so Easel let Typhon continue his work on her to mend her body. Meanwhile, she got to work on Lauren while Damien sat nearby. Watching the pair as they worked. He occasionally glanced over to an occupied bed nearby, which had a woman lying in it hooked up to various machines checking her vitals. "...Who's that?" he asked, glancing to Easel for but a moment.

Easel looked over to Damien, then the woman. "The only survivor of that derelict colony ship outside. She was in cryostasis the entire time, and only her cryopod remained active. I'm monitoring her vitals for now, and will likely wake her soon."

Damien eyed the woman again. "...I imagine that's gonna be fun to deal with. Future shock and all." Easel responded with a wave her hand to the side. "Nothing I am unable to handle. I have extensive training and experience dealing with psychological issues. I will help her adapt to the modern world, and potentially thrive in it."



"Wait, so this was all a setup?" asked Aesha, as she looked between Eve and Zadra. "Indeed. Anora knows of the link between Uric and the Blackwells. And she knew that Uric was coming to meet the Blackwells on the station. She used that to her advantage, taking out three birds with one stone. Uric was killed, VOC-1 was destroyed, and everything was rigged so that the Reavers would take the fall for it. Now, most of the galaxy wants you dead...preventing you from seeking vengeance on Anora and her Blood Corps without running into various obstacles along the way." responded Eve, looking between her and Zadra. "The others that were framed...those were just collateral. As for how you were framed, they likely collected appearances and other data from the cameras around the colony. Afterwards, they sent the data to Anora's main contact inside ONI. He and the other loyalists Anora has inside ONI weaved an elaborate and detailed story which was quickly sent out to the major news organizations inside and outside of the major factions of the galaxy."

As Eve pointed out the others, Aesha looked back to the group around the Mordred. Those that were simply caught up in it and came with them, and those she had recruited to join the Reavers. "Shit, hang on." muttered Aesha, as she saw the Reavers were also attempting to check them for weapons and such. "Hey!" she said loudly, jogging over to where they were. "You can leave this bunch alone. They helped us escape. Olivia, you can hop out of the mech. Just park it somewhere, and we'll get it stowed away for now and fixed up." The Reavers eyeballing the group moved away, allowing the group to have some breathing room.

Zadra watched Aesha jog off, before looking back to Eve. "...How do you know all of this?" she asked. Eve tilted her head for a moment, seemingly thinking, before responding. "...I'll reveal that to you all once I speak to the Blackwells. Its a bit complicated."



Three hours passed, as the surgeries progressed and finished in the medical bay. One by one, Valkyrie, Lauren, and Damien's injuries were mended and given a healthy dose of nanomachines to help speed up the recovery processes. Pearl, Gorg, and Vixaya came next, Easel being extra careful with mending Pearl's and Vixaya's injuries while Typhon worked on fixing up Gorg. Meanwhile, the members of the group were allowed to move about the Guillotine a bit, while the civilians were kept gathered together in the mess hall. They'd need to wait until Valk woke up, in order to find out their fate.

The group slowly discovered what was happening on the news, either through checking it themselves or through Reavers talking about it. All of them now had a bounty on their heads, and a rather sizeable one at that. Targets for Anora's framing, just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
 
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Vance eyed Drav as she eventually backed off, only removing his gaze off the khergian when the newcomer android spoke of what was transpiring on Starnet. He pulled out his own holotablet from his belongings in his duffel bag and saw what Zadra saw. His face bore shock as he saw what was essentially outright lies being thrown out against not just him, but everyone he had been with. In the eyes of the galaxy, they were all terrorists now responsible for the destruction of VOC-1. "Fuck." Vance muttered, placing a hand on his forehead as he read the headlines from multiple outlets. Every single one spoke of the same thing, and it became quickly apparent that this was a coordinated effort to push this narrative.

And that made Vance angry, causing him to ball up his free hand in a tight fist as he watched the streams of falsehoods continue to pour through the entire net. Seeing his own face plastered on the news and being blamed for such atrocities that he tried to prevent... that was the greatest failure of all. "God... DAMNIT!" he then yelled out, throwing his tablet down to the floor with enough force to completely shatter it. There was a singular name behind all this: Anora. He didn't know who she was, or what her motivations were, but he didn't care. She was going to pay, not just for Dan's life but for all those innocents she and her underlings had slaughtered on the colony.

---

A few hours had passed by this point and Vance had resigned to properly process the information as he sat against a nearby wall in the hangar with eyes closed. Right now, he couldn't do anything about his current predicament but he was wondering as to how he would not only clear his name but avenge his friend as well. But what was more immediate was that the civilians, Katherine and her fellow security guards, and Vella, were being held in the mess hall for the time being away from everyone else and Vance didn't have the ability to even see her to tell her what had happened to Dan as they were kept under watch. He simply sighed and let his own emotions process losing his friend as he shook he head. He wished he could had done something in that situation, and even though he knew that there was practically no time he still blamed himself and carried that burden weighing upon himself like a mountain. No matter how hard he tried to frame it, the one thought pierced through his mind: You could have saved him.
 
Olivia's rifle slowly lowered down as Aesha came to her rescue. For a second, her stomach knotted itself twice over at the prospect that she'd get lumped in with god knows what they're planning to do with the civvies. She's gonna have some... strong words, if they do what pirates are wont to do. The mech itself gave a small nod to Aesha, as it passed by the group of gunners and into the main hangar proper. Spacious place. The chest's hatch popped open for the pilot to come out of. Actually, her stomach did still feel kind of knotted.

"Hey, Aesha? Tha--" Just as all the adrenaline was leaving Olivia's body, finally, so too, did last night's dinner. One hand pressed against the side of the mech's leg, whilst the other ripped the mask off of her face as she entered a rather violent fit of vomiting. All over the floor of the hangar.

- - - - -
Olivia found herself back in the hangar, disarmed and with the heavier plates of armor left lying by the side of her mech. Puffing on a cigarette as she had to process just what the fuck had happened. Some common mercenary bumbling herself right into becoming public enemy number one. Again. At least this time it wasn't her fault. Granted, this time she didn't have any safeguards that would prevent her from hanging off of a lamp post. Not any good ones, anyways. Best she could realistically hope for is being so low down on the list that she's not all too much of a priority to take. She saw that guy-- that spook girl's friend. He seemed real down. She looked between him, and her pack of cigs. "...God dammit." She was silently cursing herself as she walked over-- there's no way in hell this is gonna go over smooth, but.

"Hey, big man." The redhead held out her carton towards him, top popped for easy access.
 
Shelby was glad to have been rushed on board before the throng of civilians, giving him a little space to collapse in a lounge rather than stand around like a sardine in a tin. And to think, he was only one conversation away from being like those people. He could have even ended up dead quite easily. But he had followed his heart and joined the pirates, the safest thing he had done in... months. The irony was too much to appreciate, of course, for he felt nothing but a settling numbness in his mind and body. It wasn't unlike the exhaustion from a long day of concerts, sometimes even traveling from island to island, habitat to habitat to make the schedule. But this exhaustion didn't come with the occasional blackouts and forgetfulness. No, he remembered the events of the past few hours quite well.

When they were safely away, he finally realized his camera was still recording, the device clipped to his backpack shoulder-strap. He cancelled the feed and barely had the strength to raise his arm to check his wrist terminal, which he tapped at until the footage came up, starting with him waving the camera around for fun, then zooming in on Aesha calling for recruits. That felt like days ago already. He sat there, watching it all happen again from his perspective, until he finally passed out without realizing it - next thing he knew, he was shaken awake by their landing at their new destination. The impromptu nap did little to make him feel better.

Shuffling out with his belongings, he was jolted back to awareness by the scene unfolding. All the citizens pouring out, Reavers with weapons drawn, alert. "I-I'm with her," Shelby stammered, pointing with both hands towards Aesha, though she was off talking to people. And just when they were beginning to check them for weapons, the woman came over and stopped it, letting the new recruits separate from the refugees. Now that was close. He definitely didn't want to deal with a pat down, not now, and not from some grubby handed pirate. Well... he was a pirate now, too, but he certainly was much prettier and cleaner despite the grit clinging to his face from all the fighting.

Then the matter of Starnet came up, and Shelby swallowed nervously as he tapped through his feeds. The media had sunk their teeth in fast, and they had done so hard. This had to be an atrocity for the history books. And there he was, a dainty figure spliced from security footage, tiptoeing around with the Reavers. As if he was some sort of pirate. Well... he was a pirate now, but he wasn't that kind of pirate. Castilia was probably abuzz with the news, he figured. Media was eaten up there just like any other entertainment. There was no way they could recognize him, but it hurt to be labeled as some sort of crazy radical terrorist. He was an idol, not some bloodthirsty murderer. And the shots of him weren't that great, either. His own media team could have done better. Hell, he could have done better. This looked like some old net found footage. They never quite showed his face properly throughout the carnage. Thank goodness he was disguised, he wouldn't want his fans knowing it was him, despite having done nothing wrong. Then again... there were a lot who would still support him. Shelby couldn't help but smile at that. Such good little followers, especially the super premium fans. Later, he'd have to talk to the bosses about the footage he had.

After spending some time melting into the floor, eyes glued to the net, Shelby noticed the pilot lady and the really big guy nearby. Both seemed pretty out of it, and to that he could relate. He didn't know where Aesha went off to, but these two seemed like good people. Leaden down with his backpack and duffelbag still, Shelby wandered over to them as Olivia offered Vance a cigarette. Smoking was too smelly and gross, but he had other things. Better things. For a moment, he forgot to speak as he stood next to them, before blinking up at Olivia. "Hey, I got some special candy if you want some," he said, glancing between her and Vance. "Y-You know. Dolphins. Turtles. Lions. I keep them in a special box."
 
Vance's thoughts were interrupted by Olivia's approach with an offering of cigarettes, and he simply looked at the carton for a moment. "I don't usually smoke..." he muttered before gently tugging out one of them out of the carton for himself. "...but what the hell." With Olivia's lighter the cigarette came to life as it began burning and Vance took a deep breath for the smoke to settle in his lungs. Although nicotine didn't have any effect on him, he could at least pretend it did for a placebo to try to take his mind off things. As he puffed out his intake Shelby approached at offered candy which. although a friendly gesture, Vance politely declined. "I'm... well, I'm not fine but thanks." he stated to the lady.
 
The task of repairing damaged tissue and shattered bones is expediated by the mechanical limbs attached to Typhon's back. Hours are shaved off the operation as they each hold Valkyrie's broken ribs together while he carefully affixes titanium plates not only to hold them together, but to also reinforce them so they won't break as easy next time. These plates are also used to repair the cracks in Lauren's skull and in Damien's knee. Finally, once he's done, he seals the three of them up respectively and adds the finishing touches of a swab of antiseptic over the incision sites. Easel also performed her own finishing touch by giving them a shot of nanomachines to help all the damaged tissue heal faster.
"Nothing I am unable to handle. I have extensive training and experience dealing with psychological issues. I will help her adapt to the modern world, and potentially thrive in it."
"A doctor and a psychologist. Interesting." says Typhon as he cautiously removes his surgical gloves and places them in the biohazard bin. "That makes two of us, almost." Not a moment after he finishes that statement does his datapad start buzzing loudly on the counter nearby. He lifts up a finger letting Easel and the others know to give him a moment while he inspects just what is going on. An onslaught of messages bombard the screen, and they scroll by so fast he can hardly read any of them. Finally when he opens up his inbox does he see what in all the hell is this all about.
Amon
- Mashallah! Beherit would be proud!
Kalag
- VERY VERY NICE WORK YOU DID
- BRING ME NEXT TIME OK
- WE WILL DO THIS AGAIN TOGETHER
Rimmon
- Mashallah, doctor! The heart of the kaffir have felt fear again!
Thamuz
- Excellent job! We will celebrate when you return, god-willing!
More messages like these overwhelm his inbox. They're all from fellow Lions members, congratulating him, cheering him, happy for him... but why? Confused beyond belief, he looks up at Easel and Damian. "Ah..." he starts, though seals his lips as he isn't sure what to say. A message is sent to his boss, Amon, inquiring just what did he do that's got them all excited. Amon responds only a second later.
Amon
- Tune in to Sharaz Herald, my friend! You have the attention of the Mahdi himself!
That's not good.

Typhon's eyes widen as he scowls harshly at that message. Quickly, he fumbles around for a remote and turns on one of the patient TVs; flipping through the channels to see if it can pick up the Kingdom's news channel. The unmistakable robed figure of the Mahdi eventually appears on screen; standing in front of a podium with the Kingdom's flag shining brightly behind him. He stands tall above a crowd applauding him as he gives them all a speech.

"-And we have not strayed from our mission to make this quadrant not just our home, but a home to anyone oppressed by these terrorists, these pirates, and these mercenaries! This mission we will never forget!" he says in that peculiar accent of his. His statement is met with another round of applause. "What the Reavers had done to Vileas and to VOC-1 was nothing short but the worst of atrocities, and so I, Padishah of the Kingdom and Mahdi of the Artisynth, issue a fatwa upon all these Reavers. I am now declaring it lawful to hunt every single one of these Reavers down and anyone associated with them for what they've done in this attack!" Images of the Reavers' leadership appear on the screen, fading into one another as information about Valkyrie, Damien, Lauren, Aesha, and the others are displayed. Footage from VOC-1 is also played, albeit censored, though clear enough to give viewers a look into how grave the ordeal was. Even footage of Typhon also appears on camera, showing him executing civilians; something he did not do this time. "I have informed General Kasebi to increase patrols around our southern border, and I have also granted the Basij permission to deploy outside our borders to assist them. God-willing, the Reavers will no longer exist not too long from now, and this I swear that so long as I breathe, I will keep this land safe from any and all pirates whom think they can terrorize our people once again!" One last round of applause blows through the speakers as the Mahdi gives a wave to the crowd.

Typhon grips the counter intensely as his whole body shakes. Killing civilians, bringing down stations, and being framed for atrocities like these isn't what has him feeling sick; it'd be hypocritical if it was. It's being betrayed by the Blood Corps that has his mind racing. For all the times the Lions were hired by them and the other seperatists to do their dirty work, he never suspected they'd do this to him. But now...

"Oh, those vampires..." he mumbles aloud, still trying to hold himself up straight.
 
As the time gradually passed and tension decreased Nathalie found herself arms crossed in the hangar bay. Fortunately Aesha had cleares her and the other recruits, ridding them of the suspicious pirate security detail that had greeted them initially.
Glancing to her left, Nat noticed that Vance seemed pretty down. In fact, he had seemed pretty down since the escape from VOC-1.

Nathalie sighed. Vance was a good man, wouldn't be too uncharacteristic of him to feel down because of those that died on the station. In fact, she knew no other person who cared for the common people the way he did.
Add the fact that they were now all framed for the assault on the colony and it made perfect sense for him to feel sad.

Glancing yet again Nat observed as Kovak, the mechpilot, and Shirley? Shelley? Stanley? Whatever, the little guy that was waaay in over his head both approach Vance. At least the big guy wasn't alone in all of this.

Nathalie considered talking to him as well though it had been years since they last spoke and when they did things had been... different. Things had been exposed and- upon doing so- made Nathalie a wanted woman. For now it was better for these two strangers to comfort her old friend.

Closing her eyes and leaning back, Nathalie let out another sigh.
 
As soon as they were safe from VOC-1, they had a few hours to relax and breath for a moment. Roge and Belka went down to the hangar bay and noticed the Reavers vouched for them. "At least that's over and done with," Belka sighed a load of relief. The Kercan himself holstered his weaponry, turning to Belka.

"You alright? Crazy stuff back there. Check up on the news on the extranet and see what's happening." Roge asked to his partner, rolling her eyes and activated her holoband to check the news. His eyes stared at her, watching her read the news out loud. "Holy ascension," Her eyes wander and turned to Roge, eyes widened. Roge tilted his head, anxious for the news.

"Fucking Tommy "Lights Out" lost against Connor Bright in the boxing match! Well, there goes my fun money." She flicked her hand against the holography, causing Roge to bump a fist against her shoulder. "The news about the VOC-1, crim!" He shouted. Belka shrugged, searching through the latest trending news and found an article. She spoke out loud, "Pirate group called Blackwell's Reavers raid orbital station VOC-1 near planet Vileas." She then came to a sudden halt, switching her view to Roge, "Okay, what's the problem?" She had to ask.

"Don't be stupid! Do you understand how much trouble we're going to be in if they find out we're wanted now?!" He growled in frustration, pacing around until Belka had to raise her hands in order to calm him down. "Big guy, relax. I'm sure the bounties on us aren't that big of a deal. Shit like this happens all the time." She tried to reason with him despite his ever increasing temper. Roge laced his big hands, rubbing them together and gritted his teeth.

"Being framed doesn't happen all the time. You can laugh all you want, but I'm a professional with standards. Standards that don't involve women and children in this business." He stressed the point to his partner. Belka heard a distinctive beep coming from her holoband, raising an eyebrow. She accepted the tone and tilted her head backwards, "Hello? Belka here." She waited a second, hearing someone from the other line. She then turned to Roge, extending her arm out to the side of his head with a calm face. "It's Marge. She wants to talk to you."

Roge exhaled through his nostrils, taking the holoband off her arm slowly, putting the thing around his forearm and cleared his throat. "Hello?" He kept his cool, eyes looking down. "Yep... I know." He replied, tapping his left foot repeatedly. "I understand... Uh huh." Belka shot an amusing smile, crossing her arms as Roge stared at the holoband's time and date. "No, this isn't like last time. Okay. I'm sorry." He bit down his tongue, squinting his eyes and breathed inconsistently. "It might take a few months before I head back home, Mar. I know, I know. Um... I love yo-" The call ended on the other line right before Roge shut his eyelids expectedly. He blinked twice, passing the holoband to Belka. Belka wrapped the holoband around her wrist and gave a slight tap on his shoulder, "I'll leave you alone for now." She said with a reassuring smile, walking away.
 
Several hours passed as Amy finally managed to secure a channel. It wasn't much, but would do good for now.

"You've reached the 'office' of Seth Rollonso. Training or referals?"

"I need your other help, Seth."

"Amy?" There was a silence for a few seconds and some inaudible shouting was heard before he continued "The hell are you doing calling me? Do you know how high your bounty is?"

"Channel is secure and you're still traveling through space. Should be harder to track." She tried to calm him down "What you saw, it wasn't me. I never did those things. The only people I killed were Blood corps."

"I believe you, kiddo, but you know that the others wont." A brief pause followed "Look, I can try to pull some strings and get heat off of you. Draw the heat away, but that wont mean much as soon as the Gold dusts start looking in your direction."

"I know. I want you to do something else for me."

"Name it."

"I want you to pass along everything you have on Anora Cortus."

"You have a plan?"

"No, but it's a start. I have options, still." She looked around to the pirates and civilians next to her. "Another thing. I need you to go to Duroma for me."

"Let me guess. Keep an eye on the homestead? I can do that, but isn't your brother a better guy for this?"

"I need a better line before I call my family. You're easier to reach."

"Pfeh, sure. Alright, I'll drop off the greens and take a sabbatical. Why not give Taylor a call after? Can give her something to get her mind off things."

"Not a bad idea. One demigod is a pretty good deterrent, but two is even better."

"And one old genetic mutt to keep the kids company." Seth chuckled.

"Oh and..."

"I wont smoke in the house, I promise."

"Thanks, Seth. See you sometime." She cut the line and sighed in relief. At last he was still reliable. Before she talked to anyone else, Amy would need to encrypt the line better. Ship to ship is harder to trace, but sending directly to planets is going to be a lightning rod for anyone who's listening. And with the amount of people she's pissed off, it was a lot of eyes and eats. Golddusts, The Family, Kabelas, Death Vigil purists...the list goes on and on. For now she needed to get a hold of things and think of her next move.

It didn't seem like she had much of a choice, but keep with the Reavers for now. She'd have to talk to Valk or her kids when they get checked out of medical. Hopefully soon. But for now, she had to wait. A look around, she noticed that a few of the people she saw fighting alongside the pirates were together. Likely dealing with the same troubles as her. Not everyone gets to have that many zeroes on their head for something they didn't do. Amy was in a very small club that has had it twice.

"This seat taken?" She asked Vance, pointing to the spot next to him as she got closer.
 
When Amy approached, Vance shook his head at her question: "Not at all." he replied before taking another puff from his cigarette. He didn't mind the company, but was rather surprised that the strangers that he had either only briefly met or had fought alongside were both gathering here as well as trying to cheer him up. He stayed quiet for a moment before speaking up: "...who is this Anora?" he then asked, "What the hell does she want?"

He hoped that someone might elaborate as to who had ruined so many lives on VOC-1.
 

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