Hark leaned against building and inhaled deeply. It had been a while since he's been on a moon, even the hospital he was treated in was in space. He could tell the other marines were enjoying the openness of the moon after being confined to the Scythian for months.

Hark looked over when he heard the door open and snapped to attention as Loken came out with a woman who appeared to be some sort of scientist. The two walked past the marines and Hark wasn't sure weather to follow them or not. However, it was as if Loken sensed his question and motioned for them to follow, "Let's go Sergeant were headed for the excavation site."

Hark looked around to the marines, "You heard the man let's move." The followed the woman and Loken throughout the small colony constantly turning and weaving through the colony buildings. Hark was impressed the lady they were following seamed to know this place like the back of her hand, 'She must have been here for a long time' he thought to himself.

As they were walking Hark noticed there was a small crowd following behind from a little distance. At first he thought they were just coincidentally following them but after about 10 minutes of walked they stayed right behind them. Holly noticed it too and came up to Hark, "They're definitely following us." She said to him over the cons. Hark just nodded, "Falcon two, come with me were going to shoo off our little crowd of fans. Falcon one stay with Loken and whoever the lady is."

Holly gave a little salute before turning away with Tremper to follow Loken. Hark and two remaining marines in falcon two halted and waited for the small crowd. As soon as they noticed Hark and the two marines the stopped dead in their tracks and exchanged nervous glances at each other. With his pointer finger he motioned for the group to come of and after a little hesitation they finally started to make their way over.

They stopped a few feet from Hark and he took a step forward to loom over them, "Those two you're following aren't here to talk to the likes of you." He paused a moment giving them a challenging stare, "So this is your one and only warning to scram." He finished. One of the girls who was following Loken looked like she was going to say something slick but the marine to Harks left, Conrad, started tapping his rifle, "Its been a while since I've shot anything that wasn't part of the Nomad, and I'd like to keep it that way" He sneered. Hark looked at the group for a minute before he asked, "So what will it be?"

@ihinka

Mel's jaw was clenching and unclenching angrily at being summoned by the group of marines as if they were some common lowlifes. Her anger coefficient rose in spades with the marines' choice of words to warn them off from their pursuit. She was about to explode in the face of the last marine, who had so nonchalantly threatened them with bodily harm when Vokeera stepped in between her and the marines.

The Protector stepped forward, hands raised, palms up in show of good faith. "Forgive me, but I do not believe we deserve such treatment. Without knowing our purpose you verbally assault and threaten us when we're merely trying to reach one of the persons we believe we were indicated to contact on this moon to seek employment." Ro turned to Melissa, who was still fuming a step behind her. "My friend and I are both military and have fought in the Nomad war as well, so a little fellow soldier respect would be appreciated. And the veiled threat, as effective as you might think it was..." The Noxaara squared the marine who had issued it. "Is not only unnecessary, but could prove to be quite counterproductive." Ro took a step back, effectively pushing Melissa a step back as well. "As it turns out, we were just about to turn away as it was obvious the person we wanted to speak to was otherwise occupied. Stay safe." Vok finished with a slight incline of the head, turned and without leaving the marines with the opportunity to say anything, started ushering a still very irate Melissa in the opposite direction.

"... the likes of you... And that attitude!" Melissa was blubbering in her anger.

"I warned you we would stick out like a... sore thumb." Ro finished the phrase hesitantly. "Their attitude aside, they probably had their orders, so relax." The Protector placed a calming hand on Mel's shoulder. "Our intentions of snooping weren't the most noble ones as well." Ro pointed out.

Mel's face transformed in a manner of seconds from an angry mask into an adorable pout. "Did you at least catch anything with your auditory apparatus, before those jar-heads told us off?" She was still a bit miffed at the marines. Even if they did have their orders, the group that had exited the Director's office now seemed even more suspicious, having a squad of marines as guards.

"My hearing apparatus is not really that much enhanced. I can detect some frequencies humans cannot. Still they were too far ahead and there was too much ambient interference."

"Couldn't you filter that out?" Mel asked hopefully.

"I could have tried..." Ro hesitated. "Before."

Suddenly concerned, Mel turned her complete attention towards her friend and forgot all about the suspicious characters they were following. "Before..." She repeated, not finishing the sentence. "You said you had recovered completely." She gently touched the pendant nestled between Ro's chest plates.

"And so I did." The Noxaara assured, squeezing reassuringly Mel's shoulder. "But the Noxaara, enhanced as we are by the SEEM, do have our limits."

"Limits can be tested." Mel mused.

"Yes." Ro confirmed. "I can no longer afford to test mine." She finished.

"Because of us." Melissa looked at Vokeera saddened.

"No." Ro placed her other hand on Mel's free shoulder. "Because I could not bear to watch my friends die in that toxic hell, when there was something I could do to help them."

"You saved us." Mel whispered, grasping Ro's wrists and lowering her head.

"As you would have done me, had you the means." Ro also lowered her voice and shifted her hands from Mel's shoulders to her face to make her look up. "I don't doubt that at all." The Noxaara assured.

Suddenly there was a shout and BB and Jack rushed them.

"No fair, Mel! Making the moves on Vok." Jack complained

"Yeah, no fair, Serg." BB agreed.

Mel took a step back from Ro. "Are you two daft?!" She asked in mock shock. "I'm gay you know."

"Yeah, so?" Both men asked in unison.

"The Noxaara don't have genders." Vokeera supplied helpfully, smiling within her SEEM. This playful pretend rivalry between the three human friends for her affections was a game the four of them played often. It was a sort of a bonding ritual. For good measure she added: "We are also unable to engage in acts of corporeal pleasures with other species but our own."

"Bummer!" Jack, BB and Mel complained in unison, causing Ro to explode in a fit of laughter that soon infected the humans as well.

"Anyways..." Jack drawled... "We kinda found chief Miranda. She's busy overseeing the distribution of the supplies, crowd controlling and whatnot. I don't know if and when we'll be able to speak with her."

"What have you got?" BB interjected.

Mel and Ro quickly related to the boys what had happened after they'd split up, right up to their unfortunate meeting with the marine squad.

"Mel..." Jack and BB started suggestively.

"No, God damn it!" Mel cut them off. "I got caught up in your snooping mood and I almost had to punch some marine teeth in had Ro not intervened with her calm Protector attitude. We're here to find work, to help. And that's what we're gonna do!"

The boys looked properly chastised. They muttered quiet 'okay' and 'yes, Serg' and followed after Mel and Ro in the direction of Director Ogilvie's office. A woman was standing in front of the door, flanked by two individuals, asking: "May I go inside? I'd like to speak to the director."

"Hello..." Ro engaged the woman... "It would appear we have the same destination and intentions."

@Elevation@TheMadAsshatter@Ozymandias

Dalry had been unloading the cargo of the ship for several hours now. From getting the crates out, to unpacking the crates themselves, and then transporting the supplies to where they needed to go. It was a therapeutic job. But slowly, crowds had started forming, and they were shouting. The didn't want to wait for the supplies to be distributed. They wanted them right now. Dalry couldn't blame them. She was alright today but during winter, when her crops wouldn't grow, she was just as hungry and miserable as these people seemed to be.

As she was moving a trolley past the line, a man angrily stopped her. "That food should be being given to us!" he shouted. Dalry, now shivering a little, pointed a shaking hand to the breadline and responded meekly with "...it is..." The man then tried to snatch one of the boxes from the trolley but before either of them knew what Dalry was doing, she's grabbed his arm, thrown him over her shoulder and had a boot on his neck as she was pulling his arm back. His yells of pain snapped her out of it, and she let him go, before stumbling back to her trolley and willing her legs to walk away as everyone around her had gone quiet.

Once she was away from them, she choked back a sob. She was going to dislocate his arm. Before she stopped herself with reason. She could feel her arms about to perform the wrenching action. She was an idiot to take this job, and once word of this gets out, they'll realise they were an idiot to hire her. The gossip will spread and Dalry will be lucky if she even gets nanny jobs anymore. She'll just be alone in her room, all day, every day. Maybe that's the safest way. Maybe that's what she deserves.

The ex-soldier shook her head, and kept going. Just deliver these food supplies. Then what happens next will happen next.

Clara led Loken out of the Col-Ad building, where a group of heavily armed men and women were waiting for them. They sported combat armour and automatic weapons and took orders from Loken as if he was their commanding officer. The soldiers trooped along behind them in three lines of two.

A queue was forming at the door to the Director’s office, with people requesting to speak to Ogilvie. The agent guarding the door nodded and waved them through one at a time, telling them to keep their business short and quick. When they entered, Director Ogilvie looked up tiredly at them. Having just been confined to his office he was deep in thought but knew his duty well enough. “New arrivals? Welcome to RX, you have come at a busy time.” He said with a smile. “What can i do for you all?”

@ihinka @themadasshatter

An uncomfortable silence had developed, so Clara was well aware when some of the soldiers peeled off shortly after to deal with what looked like some new arrivals. Clara thought about saying something but there was definitely an air of urgency about the whole ordeal. Hopefully those new arrivals would take the hint and not piss these people off.

Clara took them to the vehicle pool, where the colony’s general use buggies were kept. It was essentially a large airless garage with rows and rows of different colony multi-purpose buggies, trucks and mining equipment. The place was always busy with dozens of rigs coming and going at all hours.

Clara signed out one four seater and a six seater. The four seater was for her, Loken and the two agents accompanying them and the six seater was enthusiastically accepted by the remaining soldiers to follow behind in. She clambered into the driver's seat and powered from the garage with the confidence of someone who drove one every day. After a couple of false starts the marines caught up behind.

“Doctor,” began Loken, looking from one side of the rocking transport to the other. “Can you tell me more precisely what it is you’ve located at this site?”

Clara glanced over at the agent, who luckily wasn’t staring right at her. “Well uh, the site we’ve uncovered appears to be part of an extensive set of structures under the surface of the moon. Maybe an entrance point? The materials used are millions of years old, but we’ve been able to uncover etching and patterns which our linguistics specialist is working on at the moment.

They were winding around large rocks and dips in the landscape, following a beaten track that Clara knew like the back of her hand. She glanced at Loken again. “So why are you guys here? Is it something to do with the quake we just had?”

Loken listened to the civilian while scanning the horizon around them. It was a habit he had developed in the marines, searching for targets; snipers, spotters, anything that could be watching them. “So in other words, no you can’t tell me what it is,” he said. “I can’t tell you specifically, but you’re no doubt aware by now that it is very much to do with the work you people have been doing here this last year or so.”

Great, thought Clara. A lot of talking but not much being said. Her earpiece started vibrating, she looked at her wrist unit. It was Thebes. She accepted the comm line. “Yes Thebes whats up?” She asked, seeing Loken craning to get a listen from the corner of her eye. “Ma’am, i have detected some kind of biological anomaly at the dig site you are heading to. I have dispatched the Sacred Band to your location.

The Sacred Band were a project that Thebes had been working on since he arrived on RX. With almost none of his impressive processing power occupied with his day job, Clara always marvelled at the interesting advancements the AI made on an almost daily basis. The band consisted of twelve droids, made entirely of components manufactured by Thebes himself via small fabricators in the Security Control room he had made his home. They were stripped back robots which could use colony weapons with a reasonable degree of accuracy. More astonishingly, Thebes could control all 12 of them independently.

“Is that hardly necessary?.” Clara asked.
“Better safe than sorry Ma’am. I would like to take this opportunity to ask you to recall your men and head to the safety of the colony.” Thebes replied.

Loken looked over with curiosity. He wasn’t able to hear the conversation coming through Clara’s commbead over the din of the engine and the crunching of the heavy tires over the rock, but her could hear her replies. “What’s wrong?” he asked, unsure if it was relevant to him or not.

Clara navigated onto the mountainside track that would lead them to the dig site. “I just got a report of a biological anomaly at the dig site. Thebes is sending troops as a precaution.” She tried to get Dr Gao on her PA but his device didn’t respond. Clara sped up the buggy.

---

After half an hour’s drive, they arrived at the Science Station. It consisted of a huddle of habitats and work units on the edge of a precipice. At the bottom of a large roughly circular pit was the excavation, with large metal gantries winding down to it.

‘A biological anomaly,’ wondered Loken. Her reply had been fairly ambiguous, but the mention of troops being sent made him smirk. Local security, or some such. He had half a section of marines with him and his own agents; a small army, by all accounts.
Loken disembarked from the transport. One of the marines got out of the vehicle behind and walked up to him. “Falcon One can stay here for now. Falcon Two I want you doing a foot recce around the perimeter of the site. No contact to report, but we’ve been caught out before. Make it happen, marine.” he said. He wasn’t expecting contact on a moon like this. The marine nodded and walked back to their transport. His team disembarked and wandered around, scanning the horizon. Some of Falcon One sat down, others slumped against the side of the buggy. It was a case of hurry up and wait for them. Loken turned back to Clara. “Lead on, Doctor Lascelles,” he said. “My team and I will escort you.”

Clara made her way down the winding ramp. It was dotted with grav-lifters fulls of supply crates. She could see no sign of her team. “This doesn’t feel right.” She whispered to Loken. “There’s no activity, we have a team of twenty down here.” She tried calling Dr Gao again, no answer.

“Do not be afraid.” A voice rumbled, seemingly from inside her head. The whole excavation shook violently. Loken tapped his commbead. “Falcon One, come in. Are you feeling tremors up there too?” he asked.

@elevation

The infirmary. She desperately wished she could forget this was a problem, much like many others, no doubt. Medical staff were still struggling to keep people alive. One would have thought the clearly lost ones would already be gone, but despite her at best basic medical training, she could still clearly pick out several dead men or women walking. No highly decorated Lieutenants among them. She glanced around, trying not to be in anyone’s way while she did and quickly left the sick bay. There was nothing she could do to help there. Perhaps once she found the Scythian’s second in command, she could make them take some of the lightly injured people away to lessen the stress. Miranda left the infirmary and headed back to the Scythian, giving up the search for now. The Scythian was his ship, he would have to come back to it eventually. Hopefully, she’d catch him upon his return.

Returning the Scythian, she looked over the crowd that seemed to be getting denser and denser. At the same time, the amount of supplies both available and those that were being handed out to the people was diminishing. Miranda moved over to the side, away from other people and spoke to her PAD.
“Nero to security office.”
”Security, go.”
Miranda made sure nobody was too close. She spoke quietly. “The crowd is getting big and the supplies are getting low. Can you send a security team to the Scythian? I fear we are balancing dangerously close to a food riot.”
”We can spare, uhh… twelve men.”
“Send them here. I hope it’s going to be enough.”
”Riot gear?”
Miranda hesitated. “No. Just batons and helmets. Maybe tasers, officer’s choice. I want to defuse the situation before it escalates to violence.”
”And if it does not go well?”
“We’ll owe the marines guarding the ship a pint or two.”
”The team’s on its way, they should be at the Scythian in seven to ten minutes.”
”I hope that’s fast enough.” she thought. With her, Solothurn’s customs team and the three marines she saw earlier, it was still just nineteen officers against a sea of people. She walked back to the ship. Back in Adhara, martial law gave her the right to keep those poor souls at work by threats, but she had the manpower to back it up. Not here. Here, she had neither the manpower, right nor the intent to take the same course of action. These people needed help, not dictatorship. She approached the customs officers. “And how are things here?”
“So far no wrongdoing, but there doesn’t seem to be much-” She cut him off, gesturing for him to keep his voice down. “But I think the supplies are running low. I can’t tell, as they haven’t let us on board.”

She was about to respond to him when she heard an agonised scream on the other side of the cargo ramp. A man was picking himself from the ground and a brunette with asian features was storming off. She rushed to the other side of the ramp behind the woman and tapped her on the shoulder. “Excuse me!” She shouted to get her attention over the background noise before continuing in a calmer tone, “Mind sharing what just happened back there and why that man was on the ground in pain? Because to me, it does not look like he tripped and I’d like to hear your take on this.”

@Silver Carrot

@Starlance

Dalry jumped when she heard somebody shout 'excuse me!' before calming down. Maybe whoever shouted it wasn't talking to her. She turned round. A woman was approaching her. She looked official. Dalry gulped, and her breathing drew ragged. It looked like she was getting closer and closer to a panic attack every second. Luckily, the woman didn't shout at her. That would have really set her off. Dalry did knot cope well with confrontation, and was incredibly lucky that she's still eligible to plead 'medically unfit' in court, as she had done for her previous twelve consecutive Bodily Assault charges.

Dalry really hates confrontation.

She told the truth. Of course she told the truth. All the truth can do is help her. "He, stopped me and tried to snatch some food from my trolley, and...the next thing I know, he was on the ground and I had to stop my arms from dislocating his shoulder....I shouldn't be here. All I'm trying to do is prove I can work just like everyone else but I can't. Can I just deliver this trolley first? Then you can take me away."

After the interception of the Interceptor, the next half an hour went by almost uneventful, and the young Nelson simply spent the time lounging around inside the tower, as things outside were going as much as he anticipated. There was nothing too serious for him to personally intervene, his underlings on the Scythian were doing their job perfectly well. However, the thought did not last long.

His personal earpiece suddenly rang inside his pocket. Nelson took it out and placed it on his right ear.

"This is Lieutenant Nelson speaking."

"Sir." A voice filled with anxiety echoed in his ear. "The crowds are getting out of control."

Nelson's eyes jerked violently.

"People are getting desperate for food, and are trying to break the line."

Shit.

'What the hell are the marines doing?' Was the first thought that ran through Nelson's mind

"There even appears to be a small fight outside the ship."

'Oh no you don't.'

It seems that the order and security that he had been expecting has been broken.

"Tell me soldier, are there any spare troopers left on the ship?" Nelson bolted up like a lightning, and left the control room quickly.

"Not much I'm afraid, most are trying to undock the cargo. I can account to probably six only. The rest are ship operators."

"That's fine. Send them down, now!"

"Yes sir!"

To hell with these people.

Nelson left the control tower within minutes, and was on route towards his ship, the Scythian, to take matters into his own hands. No chaos shall be allowed whenever he is in command. As he got to the line and began pacing with quickness and decisiveness, the crowd that he once enjoyed drawing their attention now greatly irritated him. People were now looking at him weirdly, their shouts being directed to him instead. And he knew that it wasn't praises being thrown at him.

As he approached, he passed through the scene of the fight that the soldier reported him with a weird glance. A young man was on the ground, clutching his shoulders with agony of pain, while two young women, one with ordinary clothings, and the other with military security uniform. He wanted to stop to ask them what the hell was going on with them and that man, but after noticing the sight of six troopers, each with blasters on their hands, he would have to give orders to them first.

"Good thing you are here soldiers." He addressed the six soldiers, dismissing all the salutes and at ease and such. "I want every single one of them to stand orderly in their lines. I don't want violence, but if they dare to invoke conflict on us, you are allowed to use all means to subdue them, except for killing."

The woman looked almost panicked. Not what Miranda expected from someone who just mopped the floor with someone larger than them. Given that, she was inclined to believe her story, but one could never be sure. One of the customs officers also saw the incident and was already dragging the man in question over to them. He was reluctant to approach the brunette and was quite vocal about it. His loud protests caught the attention of some others in the crowd. Now they had audience. Hungry, agitated audience. This would have to be handled carefully.
“Getting closer and closer to that riot here.” She thought, worried.
“I’m sure your employer will understand this delay. You said you had to stop your arms from dislocating his shoulder?” she asked, “Care to elaborate? The way you describe it, it doesn’t look like an accident. What caused you to think dislocating his shoulder was a good thing to do?” she continued before turning to the man. “And what about your side of the story? What’s that I heard about you trying to steal food from miss…?” she trailed off and turned towards the woman, waiting for her name.

I the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of an officer’s uniform. Taking a better look, he matched the description of the second in command. ”Now he shows up.” The Lieutenant begun marshalling some of his men around. Hopefully, they would hold the crowds until the security reinforcements arrive. She noticed Solothurn’s customs team stopped checking the supplies and started herding the closest civilians. She had to wonder where the marines she saw earlier were.

@Silver Carrot

Hark looked at the Noraxxa and smiled, "I hope your brain is a smart as your mouth and you don't try to wonder back" He pointed back the way they came, "The directors office is that way." Hark stepped back and watched them leave before turning to the two marines of Falcon 2 and motioned them to follow. After a quick paced jog they caught up with Loken and the lady who was leading them. They were waiting for them at a huge warehouse where two vehicles were checked out for them. They loaded up with Holly taking the drivers seat and she promised Hark that she could drive anything. The lady Loken was with started up her vehicle without any trouble while Holly had a few rough tries. "I thought you assured Hark you could drive anything?" Tremper sneered at her. Holly's only reply was a grunt and before she started it up successfully after the fourth try.

They sped off to catch up with Loken, Hark never really noticed how barren the moon was since he was in the colony. After a 30 minute ride they finally arrived at the mining site and dismounted. Hark walked up to Loken to get his orders, "Have Falcon two scout the area around the site and keep Faclon one here with the vehicles." He ordered before turning away with the lady to head into the building. Hark walked over to the marines and dished out the orders. He leaned against one of the vehicles while Tremper laid down and Holly took a seat on a well positioned rock.

Falcon two was just out of sight when Hark felt the ground start to shake. The first tremor was so minor that he thought it might just me some mining equipment but the second one was definitely something bigger. It jolted Tremper and Holly to their feet and Hark looked to the mine. just then he got a buzz from Loken, "Falcon One, come in. Are you feeling tremors up there too?" Hark quickly responded, "Yea we feel them too what the hell is going on down there?" Hark waited for a response but none came. 'Shit signal must be out' He thought. He looked at Holly and Tremper, "Holly start up our ride and be ready, Tremper go get Falcon two back here immediately." After he finished giving us out orders he ran over to the building and burst through the doors looking around for Loken and the woman he was with, he had to make sure the last tremor didn't collapse anything on them. He ran down the ramp and then he saw the pair looking around flustered, "Loken, are you two okay?" he called out to them.

NPC Perspective - Near the Scythian

"Surely now is the time?" asked a disgruntled woman, her face half obscured by a woollen mask, tugging on the arm of a bald man with a lined forehead. Both of them were wearing civilian clothes, that of labourers. They were probably dockworkers, porters, tradesmen, or something similar. One thing was for sure, they were hiding from the crowds and from the security around the colossal ship.
"The Scythian...," she had muttered previously. "Where was that when we needed it weeks ago? Before we all started dying?" The man had replied to her coldly: "We aren't important enough to them." That would soon change, he thought. The government that taxed them, forced them to work, corralled them and gave them enforced curfews, but so often 'forgot' to pay them, or provide them with enough food would no longer forget about them. Diplomacy had failed, petitions had been ignored, voices had been hushed. They would notice them this time. They would not be given a choice.
There were others like them on the third storey of a nearby building, crouched behind a half wall which obscured their bodies. Their heads were protected from the glare of the sun by their dark masks. They were all but invisible to those preoccupied on the ground. "Not yet," he replied to her question. "Let the crowd build up. They're in the right place, but at the wrong time. It's unfortunate that they'll have to pay the price for the government's betrayal. Let the colony's authoritarian bullies come to corral them. We'll pick them out when they force people into lines."

Things were beginning to escalate on the ground. The crowd was getting so large it was beginning to collapse in on itself. People were being crushed by stampedes as people tried to force their way closer to the unloading ramp of the ship. This became more fervent as food was being handed out more slowly. Men and women were beginning to move down the ramp of the ship, armed with batons, and began bullying the people into orderly lines. For some, it made sense to comply. Other, less sheep like individuals, shouted abuse at the seamen and the civilian security forces which were beginning to make their way into the area with their own authoritarian equipment.
"Nathe," whispered a man sat a few metres away on the rooftop. "When are we doing this?" The bald man looked over at him and gestured for him to calm down. "Soon. Load your rifle." It hadn't been hard to sneak away a rifle from the security stores, nor the three pistols, the batons and the boxes of cartridges they had with them. Others like them had acquired weapons from other parts of the colony, but they were stashed away for the time being. There had been one man on stag at the security armoury that night, and he was half asleep. There was nothing to be aware of, he must have assumed, there was no war on this little moon. That would soon change.

Nathe watched as a few of his accomplices merged with the crowd. They wore their masks around their heads like a beanie, ready to be pulled down when needed, but otherwise kept hidden amongst the more chaotic parts of the crowd. In their hands they had surprises for the ship and its complement.
"Not long now. Just remember, whatever happens next, we can't go back." He moved aside for the masked sniper to crawl to where he had been sitting. The man peeked over the wall. There was a scuffle going on involving a man and woman, and a lot of raised voices. Security moved in. "Nathe, look at this," he said excitedly. Nathe moved to the wall and looked down into the sprawling mass of people. "Some toff bellend officer, look at him. Expecting everyone to kiss his arse like he's the gift to mankind," he said with vitriol. "You can see him a mile off with all that shrapnel on him," he added. It was true, for some reason this officer was wearing his mess uniform while wandering around while the seamen wore their working overalls.
"There's no cameras here, young man," said the sniper.
"That's your target," said Nathe, tapping him on the shoulder. The sniper smiled a cold smile, the kind he had smiled when he had been drafted into the army years ago, the kind of smile before he killed somebody.

"There's nothing left!" shouted one of the semi-masked men in the crowd, inciting shouts of panic and anger from those around him. "They don't have enough for all of us!" he added. The crowd pushed harder than ever towards the ship. No longer were they in lines. No longer did the security forces maintain their authority over them, dictating which individual would eat today, and which dying person would receive care. The pugnacious man had now pulled down his mask and submerged himself in the crowd. People began falling over in the stampede, crushed by those stepping over them. Punches were thrown, voices shouted all around him. The sun glinted on tradesman tools; knives and hammers, that some of the crowd had been carrying on their belt, having rushed from their workplaces, as they were drawn in anger and slashed or whacked against people to their left and right. A small object began sailing through the air towards the ship, and the man disappeared through the crowd.
The unloading ramp, and the area within a few metres all around it, was wreathed in flame as the glass object shattered, spraying pure alcohol in a huge area and igniting on the flaming cloth it had been wrapped in. Two seamen fell to the ground, rolling in agony and desperately trying to put out the flames. Others clutched their arms or shoulders, shredded by the shattered glass. Many more civilians fell. They took the worst of it. Crack! A round was fired from within the crowd, striking the metal plating of the ship. Crack,
crack! A seaman fell, his baton clattering down the unloading ramp. The crowd screamed in panic and began pushing in all directions, both away from the military personnel and very much towards them.

The sniper on the roof smiled again as the chaos began. For a brief second he watched the fire spread. That was the price they paid. Fire and blood. He rested his cheek against the rear plate of his rifle and stared through the scope, one eye closed. His crosshair lingered on the face of the officer for a moment, before moving down to his festooned chest.
"Here's one for your papers, boy." He exhaled and slowly squeezed the trigger. The round left the rifle with a deafening pow!

@Starlance@Ozymandias

"Dalry. Dalry Soumers. It wasn't an accident, or something I wanted to do...This was just supposed to be a job where I moved cargo. I'm blacklisted from all jobs involving dealing with people..."

The man then looked at her properly. "Wait...wait, I do know you! You're that nanny who people say is crazy!"

Dalry was about to answer, then there were screams and panic in the crowd. She turned to look, to see flames. Dalry back away. She was shaking and jittering like a leaf, and not looking where she was going, toppled over her own trolley, though, with the grace of a highly trained soldier, flipped over and landed back on her feet. She definitely wasn't an ordinary woman.

As soon as she heard the gunshot, she screamed and curled up into a ball where she stood, rocking back and forth as those who were at the edge of the queue scattered.

Sammael had been standing in line with a look of disinterest on his face, he gazed at the horizon and was lost in his own thoughts. Truth be told he didn't need the supplies as much as some others, but the bar needed a restock and whatever was left he could hand out in the hab area near it. He vaguely noticed security showing up and the tension in the air beginning to thicken as the crowd got a bit more rowdy. This was to be expected of course, after all they'd had no help out here for months and suddenly a ship shows up with rations. Suddenly a shout, a voice crying out that the supplies had run dry, then hell broke loose. The crowd erupted into a full scale riot, Sammael in the middle, at first the few that managed to land blows weren't able to do much, and he would occasionally retaliate with a backhand or a punch, each time he attacked another of the would be rioters fell.

Things escalated even more when a Molotov was thrown at the ship, fire sprung everywhere and bullets started to ring out, it was then that weapons began to be drawn, unfortunately Sammael had left his ripper in his room, however when you're a veroxian you always have weapons at your disposal. He reached forward and snatched a worker off their feet, hurling them into some of the unruly crowd as the fighting got even more intense, his wolflike eyes scanned the crowd, had he known who he was looking for his sense of smell have have helped a bit in this endeavor, but that couldn't be helped now. He struck his way through the crowd, a few of the workers had managed to leave cuts on his arms and legs, but he was used to pain, and the knives they carried were small in comparison to those used by his own people. Finally he spotted what he had been looking for, a gunman.

Pushing people out of the way Sammael advanced on the man, he made sure not to look as though he was intentionally moving towards him, but he readied himself in case he was noticed. His blue eyes glared into the man as he grabbed and shoved civilians out of his way, it was their fault the riot had started, and he was going to find out why.

The Eclipse as a whole where getting increasingly agitated, and had engaged in intense monitoring of all the planets communications printed the picture of a place ready to blow and the fact that there was an “biological anomaly” at the dig site was frankly rather terrifying. Yet they couldn’t leave, their FTL had been reliant on the gates and it was difficult to get parts to upgrade a it on a tiny colony like this. So short of trying to steal the Scythian they were stuck here with the threat of whatever was in the dig site. In response, they had begun to crack open the various hiding places in the ship where they kept the weapons.

Some of these where as legal as the ones they had on their ship, but most were the result of nerves tinkering driven by the danger of the times and one was all the armaments that had been striped off the crab lifter. Affixing the crab and ghosts was going to take a while, but the 3.5 m tall Liandry’s mechs were kitted out and ready to rumble and the Apis had gotten out their stingers. Stingers in this case being 6 cm long laser rifles or 3 cm laser pistols. Utterly useless on their own, each Apis could hold 2 rifles or 4 pistols and with 20+ Apis all focusing fire on a single target they could actually be pretty nasty. There were a few pistol versions being carried by the odd Apis ‘guard’ already, but each able bodied Apis was now making sure they had a bandolier with their 2/4 firearms strapped to it.

He can tell for sure that everything was escalating in a way that nobody ever wanted it to be. His six troopers sent down there weren't doing anything useful, as crowds began to get more and more desperate. Lines were now non-existent, as they were slowly turning into an armed riot. Some even tried to lunge at him, but was luckily stopped thanks to the intervention of his trooper. Nelson's temper was also nearly reaching his limits, just like those men over there.

To hell with these people!

The UWS are already being kind to share them food and water and yet you continue to whine like a baby for not getting enough! Can't they understand the situation?! And the worst thing was that there is very limited solution to this situation. They were unarmed civilians, not soldiers. You can't go out there and shoot people like nobody's business. And surely, these kind of controls weren't Nelson's type of thing. He did not want to hurt them, ever.

Suddenly...

"Lieutenant!"

For a split second, he saw something from the corner of his eyes. Something...peculiar.

But then he lost it, as a sight of an armored vest and helmet of a marine suddenly blocked his vision. A marine, all of a sudden, jumped in front of Nelson. Before the Lieutenant could understand why...

SPLAT!

He fell. To the ground. Motionless.

Nelson could not figure it out clearly what happened, but one thing was certain. He saw blood.

The blood that seeped from the neck of the young marine. He could see it clearer than anything right now. The pool of blood, and the face of the marine as life was being quickly drained from him. The face that he only saw for a second, but would have an eternal impact.

"Man down!" One of the few marines left in the area cried out.

"Save the Lieutenant! They want to kill him!"

The marines and navy personals all abandoned their post and rushed to cover the blue uniformed Lieutenant. With nobody left to stop the crowds, total chaos broke out, as some of these people suddenly took out their concealed weapon and began to open fire on the Scythian.

"Ahh! Arghh!"

Nelson could feel himself being squeezed by ten men, along with hundreds of men and women, all with different sizes and shapes. The ten soldiers tried their best to move among the crowds as well as maintaining human cover for Nelson. They had to be quick, as there were snipers out there trying to land another shot on the Lieutenant.

Then finally, after nearly a minute squeezing and pushing, the troops finally arrived at the unloading bay of the Scythian. It was only one minute, but Nelson could feel an eternity just passed there.

The soldiers deeper in the cargo bay noticed Nelson's pale face and immediately asked in great concern.

"They, they tried to kill me." Nelson replied, as he tried to catch himself a breathe, and to regain his composure after seeing one of the marines being shot dead.

"What did they just do?! Those insolence!" One trooper shouted out in anger, as he tightened his grip on his gun. Nelson knew instantly his intention, but stopped him, by grabbing him on the shoulder.

"Don't. You'll get yourself killed. There's a sniper out there." Color slowly returned to his face as he slowly recovers from the shock. But the worst is yet to pass, as there are still psychopathic men out there rioting civilians against the Scythian personals. They must be getting too desperate and too angry to wait for another batch of supplies.

Anger.

No, the worst thing isn't those civilians turned killers out there attacking the UWS personals. The worst thing right now...is those civilians turned killers attacking Nelson. It was a stark to a large fuel cannister within him. A fatal mistake.

"I want every guns on board this ship to go online, immediately!"

(Short post from the Gunnery Sergeant's POV who was killed by the sniper)

The crowds were building up and supplies were diminishing, perfect combination for a shot storm. There was already a fight between one of the Scythian's loading crew and a man who was getting a little too aggressive. Anymore outbreaks like that and the whole landing area would go up in flames.

"Hey gunny what the hell are we supposed to tell these people when we run out of food?"

The Gunnery Sergeant looked at the marine for a moment. "We'll leave that up the the Scythians officers." He replied pointing to the second in command who had came down to the cargo bay to help with the supplies distribution.

Almost the second the words left the gunny's mouth a shot rang out and one of the ramps burst into flames. 'Shit' he thought to himself before looking to his men who were looking around flustered, "Get your asses in gear and get these fucking crew members out of here!" He looked around for the second in command he saw earlier and after a moment of searching saw him looking around at the chaos. The gunny pushed and punched his way through the crowd until he was only feet away from the second in command.

"Lieutenant!" He called as he approached extending an arm to cover him. *SPLAT*
The force of the bullets impact sent the marine a few steps forward knocking into the lieutenant. He looked in shock at the lieutenant, there was blood sprayed onto his cleanly pressed uniform. The gunny felt no pain, only like he was getting light headed. He reached and touched his neck and when he looked at his hand it was covered in blood, he tried to say something to the lieutenant but only a gurgling sound came out. He first fell to his knees and then after giving one last gurgling attempt to speak he collapsed into a pool of blood.

The guards allowed Natalia to enter the office, just as a group of people were coming to the same place. Natalia recognized two of them; the woman and the Noxaara. They seemed to be moving with a sense of purpose, and she could tell all of them had some military experience. The Noxaara immediately began to converse with her in a friendly tone.

"Hello; it would appear we have the same destination and intentions."

Natalia shrugged at that. "Destination, sure. Intentions, maybe. I guess we'll find out soon enough," she said, entering the office.

She was immediately greeted by the director, a tired, but not unfriendly look on his face. No doubt this business with the UWG ship was taxing his time and patience. She got straight to the point, subconsciously assuming a relaxed form of parade rest. "Good afternoon, director, my name is Natalia Aprilia. To be honest with you, I'm at a bit of a loss right now, and could use some help. I hadn't intended to come here; I was set up by the owner of the freighter I had bought transport on. He tried to sell me out to some crime lord and apparently this system was their rendezvous. My interceptor is pretty badly damaged and I could use some repairs. I have money, but I'm all but certain it won't be enough to cover all of the repairs."

She paused for a moment. "Naturally, I'll work for recompense, and you can use me and my ship as an asset. I know that's not saying much; it's an interceptor with very little cargo space, but I'll do what I can."

@Catharyn@ihinka

“Oh? A nanny banned from working with people?” Miranda raised her eyebrow before turning back to the man, “And stealing food during a crisis? Your rations should be halved and you,” she turned back to Dalry, “would be looking at a few days in the brig for assault, not to mention other mischief you may or may not be involved in. BUT. As the rations are already low and the brig has been converted into a sickbay, let us just agree, for the sake of order in these turbulent times, that nothing happened here. Go about your lives, but do NOT-”

A shout interrupted her preaching. A shout, followed by a security officer’s nightmare. The crowd has had enough. And by the looks of it, they were out for blood. This was exactly what she hoped to avoid. Now, she had a dozen officers inbound who were not equipped to handle this kind of situation. The crowds began to get violent. “Clear out!” she shouted, grabbing the man and pushing him away from the crowd before she brought the PAD up to her mouth. “Riot in landing bay four. Fire bombs near the crowd, several injuries!” she heard the distinct crack of a rifle, followed by a scream beside her, “We have gunfire, too.” Her eyes followed the scream, looking for its source and expecting to find a lifeless body. Dalry was not shot, just sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth. “What on Earth are you doing, you frostbrain?” Miranda shouted in hopes of snapping her back into reality, “Hide!” she barked as she grabbed her shoulders and pulled her behind a pile of boxes and an overturned trolley.

A bullet ricocheted of the Scythian and hit one of the boxes, sending plastic splinters, sharp enough to pierce skin, in a wide arc. For a split second, an image of the battle of Proxima III three years ago, flashed through her memory. She remembered the tiny glass shards from the window, shattered by the shockwave, stuck in her face. A gut wrenching sound, something between snapping branches and stepping into mud, brought her back to present. Another marine lay dead on the loading ramp in a sea of his own blood. A good reminder to stay in cover herself. “Where is that backup? Our backs are against a wall here.”
”Four minutes, and we are scrambling additional officers outfitted for crowd control. Make sure you clear your men out and to a safe distance before they use tear gas.”
Miranda knew that by the time they reach the Scythian, it will already be too late.

Nippikin checked the marine’s life signs again before leaving them in the cargo hold. It was a bleak place, but lacked the scent of death Mia had complained about in the past. He couldn’t help but to notice that it was almost completely empty, wondering to himself “Why did they bother to come with so little…” He had never been one for war or politics though, and if a little was all there was to give, he would use it sparingly. Even the ship itself seemed understaffed though, when he had been on military freighters in the past, there was someone in every corridor, always with purpose in their step…but, not on this one.

Nippikin made his way to the docks of the ship, again with a feeling, like something was about to change. “Put it out of your mind. This isn’t your concern.” He repeated to himself, cycling those thoughts.

Nippikin began to feel the moisture in his suit increase, “Not again,” He said to himself. His thoughts became blurry. He had stepped too far away from his expertise, thought too much about things he knew too little about. “Was the ground shaking and rumbling?” he thought, “No, this is just in your head. Focus on what you can do.” Nippikin slumped in his suit and attempted to regain his focus, his composure.

“This is a possible riot Nippikin. Outside is unstable. People are going to get hurt, you can help, you can use your expertise.” He felt the moisture leave his skin, he had his purpose again, his focus. “You’re a doctor, Dr. Zed they call you. Go do your job.”

Nippikin picked himself up off the ground with his four tentacles and brushed himself off. He walked into the dock, and was met with an explosion of sound… the people were getting worse; they were starting to push into the ship…

And then there was blood. That bright red color that told Nippikin a human had been injured. One of the marines, many of the others covered in his viscera. Gunfire started to echo through the dock and Nippikin stood behind some of the marines as best he could. After all he was a fairly easy target standing 8 feet tall.

“Is one of your men in need of medical help?” Nippikin asked the closest marine.
“Get back Gulin!” he yelled in return “do you have a goddamn death wish?”

Nippikin did not. He simply wanted to help the injured party, but it was clear that there were soon to be many injured people. It felt good knowing he’d be able to use his expertise in this situation, but the marine was right. Nippikin slipped back into the craft as a group of marines came charging through.

“Hello gentleman there has…” he said, but it was clear they were not interested in his debrief as they rushed on by. One of their communication devices said something like “all the guns on this ship need to go online now.” but Nippikin didn’t understand the terminology. “Guns don’t need to be connected.” He thought to himself. Humans are so strange, so interesting, and very fragile.

Director Ogilvie looked up as a group of people were ushered through into his office by the pair of goons currently keeping him from leaving. He was right in the middle of trying to co-ordinate security and civilian personnel working to extract supplies from the Scythian. From the sounds of the report he’d just received from his Head of Security, the crowds were growing very restless. He ended the comm-line and tried to smile at the new arrivals.

One of the women approached him first, a pilot by the state of her uniform. She seemed as though she’d literally just landed. She dived right in to tell her story but Ogilvie perked up at mention of bandits attacking her ship in his system. He’d had a couple of reports of ‘Ndrangheta scumbags moving into the area over the past couple of months; this sounded like another of their trademark kidnappings gone wrong. The Navy forces protecting ‘Mdama had been too preoccupied to deal with these criminals with The Nomad closing in, Ogilvie supposed now that the world had been destroyed they were expanding rapidly. Even before the events of today, the lack of ships and resources had meant his hands were tied. That remained the case today.

“I’m sorry to hear that, miss Aprilia. I have heard quite a lot about the criminals in this system for a while now, but unfortunately there’s little i can do about that right now. As you might have seen, there's quite a lot going on round here. What i can do though is offer you a way to contribute in order for repairs to be made on your ship. Unfortunately we’re low on parts, so the process could be rather piecemeal. Alternatively, if you need them fast it may be worth asking the crew aboard the UWG ship out on the main landing pad.”

James composed a short message and sent it to his Head of HR. “Okay, i’ve told my chief resourcing officer to expect you. She will assign you work based on your core skill set and what needs doing. Good luck to you miss Aprilia.”

James Ogilvie had barely finished addressing the woman when a lady standing with the group of people next to Natalia spoke up.

---

“Director Ogilvie…” - Mel quickly engaged the man. “We won’t take too much of your time, I’m Melissa Reinhardt. We can see you probably have your hands full. We...” She turned to look at her friends. “The four of us are former soldiers, veterans of the Nomad war, we are here to offer our help and expertise.” She indicated BB with a hand. “Lance corporal Dunn here is a medic as well. He can help your medical staff, as it appeared there’s a bit of a shortage there.” She looked at Jack. “Myself and Jack can help in any security and law enforcement capacity.” Finally she turned to look at Ro. “As for our Noxaara friend here, I’ll let her explain for herself.”

“Thanks, Mel.” Ro began looking at the Director. “Like my friend said. We’re here to help. In any way we can. With security, with order enforcement, relief efforts. Also… As the Noxaara are friends to the humans I would also like to extend my people’s aid to you. If you would allow me to use your long range comm array I would like to contact my world and arrange for a ship with supplies to be sent to RX3248 if that would be agreeable?”

---

Ogilvie digested the information. They seemed keen and non-threatening, which was unusual for military types. He quietly checked their military records on his personal assistant device. They were who they said they were.

“Well we certainly need all the medics we can lay our hands on. Your offer of help is very much appreciated Lance Corporal.”

The Director looked at the Noxaara. He hadn’t had much experience in dealing with them in the past, but the alien seemed polite. He pulled open a factfile on the species and civilisation as a whole. Ordinarily, he would need to refer this request to the System Governor on ‘Mdama. However, they were almost certainly be dead at this point, with most of the planet now uninhabitable and all planet-wide communication having ceased. Times were not normal, but there were protocols he had to follow.

“That's a very kind offer, however at present i’ll have to block that request. UWG protocol is very clear on what the lines of communication between non-humans and humans look like. It is not my position to open up to relief from the Noxaara, however generous it may seem. However the chain of command isn’t in exactly good shape, i will think on this and let you know via PA if anything changes alright?” He shot a conciliatory grin the alien’s way.

“Anyway, as you are all military you will be under the overall command of my head of security, Miranda Nero.” He continued, motioning to the group as a whole. “Should you accept your allotted roles. Unless there are any questions, Ms Aprilia you’re free to head to my resourcing chief or seek out the parts you need on the Scythian. I’ve sent the location to your PA. You fine soldiers on the other hand will find my Head of Security supervising the unloading of vital food supplies. She will find something for you to do i’m sure. Dismissed.”

As they turned to leave, gunfire rippled from the direction of the space port. Ogilvie got up and strode to his window. He could see wisps of fire sprouting from the ship’s landing pad. He looked at the group of soldiers who had joined him at the window.

“All of you, out!”

He opened up comms with Nero.

“Miranda, what the fuck is going on down there?”

@themadasshatter @ihinka @starlance

“The defecation has just hit the ventilation, sir.” she replied to the director’s inquiry, shouting over the rioting masses, “The crowd has turned into a bloody melee, it looks like they are trying to get to whatever food and medicine still remains, attacking everyone in their reach as if to clear a path and remove competition. Someone threw a petrol bomb and hit the crowd and two crewmen, we have blunt and sharp weapons in the crowd, even a few firearms by the sound of it! We are also taking fire from an unknown position, there are at least three casualties among the Scythian’s crew and too-fucking-many injured civvies already. We don’t have the manpower to hold them back, and if someone brings more petrol bombs, it will get even nastier.” she summed up the situation as best as she could before moving to possible solutions. “If we can get crowd control teams with riot shields to block all but one or two escape routes and push, the crowd will lose their will to fight and scatter. If not, they’ll have to push a little more. So far, we are holding the Scythian, but we can’t keep up forever. But if we can’t disperse the crowd, we might have to take a more drastic course of action.”

Only a few times in her life has she felt as powerless as she did now. She could have tried talking some sense into them - before the riot started. Could she have done so? Maybe the people would have listened. But what about the sniper? She knew the people were far from happy, but didn’t expect it to be this bad. But if the shooter and the riot were not related, then there was still hope. If this was, indeed, organized, and they couldn’t pick out the people behind it in the crowd, a baton charge might be the only possible solution left. Another thing Miranda was worried about was the fallout of this incident and ways to prevent it in the future. A few ideas were already brewing in her mind. A security team posted in the landing bay every time a ship was inbound for start. And restricting civilian access to said ships, only the unloading crews, would prevent large crowds from forming. Better to first unload the supplies, hand them out later. Likely close to the infirmary.

The crowd kept advancing toward the ship, gaining ground inch by inch. Miranda rushed over to the marine closest to her. “We have backup on its way, but I don’t think they can get here before they...” she motioned toward the human mass in front of them, “...tear us apart. If we lock ourselves inside the ship, it would give the rapid response more time to react, maybe the riot would evel lose its momentum.” A glass object landed about a meter behind them, shattering on impact. Fortunately, there was no fireball. “Unless you have a better idea. In that case, speak quickly.”