"Don't make me think of that day," muttered Iona to Lucas, her voice muffled heavily by the mask. "I was heaving over the toilet for a whole Terran week after that. I was convinced half my electronics would fail because they were just so clogged with shit." Even with half her face covered, the scowl was obvious. "And I didn't want anything to do with chocolate for a little while after," she added. 

She stood quickly at the sound of the siren, alert as a dog that had just locked on to a squirrel. Her tone changed to something that sounded almost businesslike as she checked that she had her weapons: "Best of luck to you all, not that you'll need it. Happy hunting." She fired a gun-like device into the air, although it wasn't a gun and simply shot out a sharp, barbed bolt and was clearly meant for short distance. One of these in the brainstem and Iona's victims were nice, quiet and dead. She retracted the bolt and waited.