@SIGINT@Antarctic Termite
As Ayem explained the situation to Grazia, she nodded. Just what did she get herself into?

What did Ayem and Mary just get her into?

Was helping them the right thing? These cartels are the bad guys right? If helping you means stopping these cartels, then I will see what I do. Grinning, she tapped the side of her head. These eyes of mine can identify just about anything with a glance.

Putting her hands on her hips, she walked with the two, sort of eavesdropping on Ayem and Mary's conversation without really joining, chuckling at the phrase "dingy death factory." Kids were pure... How could such a young girl be put through such horrible things? There had to be something controlling her or forcing her to harm others. There is no way such a girl would willingly hurt people.

@Zarkun

When Akagalcia returned to the front of the shop... she was completely changed. She wore a fitting set of heavy earthen brown pants with numerous cargo pockets weighted down with belongings that had previously been in a bundle of rags. The ends of her pantlegs bagged over shiny black boots that seemed to be made from some sort of textured leather, but by the sound of her walk Rave suspected that they were reinforced somehow. Above all of this she wore an olive green t-shirt made from some dull fabric and a very heavy gray hoodie lined with wool, but obviously heavier with something else inside. Most important though was her hair, bound and braided into a ponytail almost as thick as her fist and trailing down past her waistline. All of this in less than twenty minutes. Civilian clothing... but Rave suspected otherwise. The real question was just how much it would cost.

The prioprietor of the clothingshop seemed altogether unexpectant as far as compensation was concerned. "And who, Kagal, is this tall and intimidating marine?" The man was a boisterous but decrepit blimp of a creature, too enthusiastic by half for the body he had to show it with. He wiped his cigar hand across his forehead to chase chase some sweat and wheezed again. "This little cat has done me quite the favor in trading away all of -huff- her pelts, so I've seen to it she is ah... safer, than you might expect? -wheeze--You can tell?"

Akagalcia was grinning ear to ear, obviously delighted by how well things were going. "This is my new friend Rave. Rave, this is Velden. He was the first person I met when I arrived here. He's a regular at Nova." That last sentences came with a meaningful look. <He knows the story. He won't make trouble, but we should leave him in peace now.>

"Yes. Normally I would not be so rude but as you can tell it is a busy day here, and our transaction was barter. Hopefully we will see one another soon?" Velden looked between the two of them, and now that Akagalcia had pointed it out, it was obvious that the man was sweating from more than his own magnitude. His cigar hand was trembling too, but Rave hadn't noticed a bit of palsy before. The man was a wreck.

Even as the man and Akagalcia explained the quick appearance change, Rave was ready to pay and go. Finding out he wouldn't have to pay was a pleasant surprise, but there was still the problem of making sure the man didn't tell anyone anything. Sadly, memory reformation was never one of the Spectre's strong points with his powers, and he had no desire to make an idol, if mostly harmless, threat to one of his traveling companion's friends. "I have to thank you for your extra care, Mister Velden. And I can see that you are indeed busy," even though the store bore only one extra customer and she was absorbed in her own shopping, "so we will take our leave."

Leading the way out of the shop, blending in became a much easier task now that Akagalcia was wearing something more akin to the street clothes others were wearing, even if it did have more pockets than most others did. It wasn't long before the sound of ships soaring overhead reached the pairs ears and Rave grinned beneath his helmet, the visor still down. "Good, we're almost clear. Assuming that we don't run into any trouble, we'll be on a ship out of here in no time."

@Zarkun

Akagalcia followed Rave at a more leisurely pace, noticeably more relaxed as they continued toward the local spaceport. Her steps and manner seemed more subdued.

"So... you hunted for your tribe. But what did your tribe do, these Raiders? Is Raymond a name, or a term for something I don't know?"

The question had been nagging at her as they had talked and then fought and fled, but now with this time to relax as they made their way Akagalcia had time to ponder with him. <My tribe, Horah-Sejen Gerghei... we were protectors. For generations we culled our neighbors and fought them. In this we kept each of us strong for times when the Starborn would come and feed off of our lands. They were our nemesis.>

As they walked, Akagalcia enquired as to the nature of his role in the former rebel group known as Raynor's Raiders, now one of the Dominion's most elite units, along with one of the most flexible roles in the entirety of the Dominion's military. The following explanation of her own role back where she was from raised questions of his own, such as wanting to know who the Starborn were, though he could guess, but he decided that they'd have plenty of time for twenty questions soon enough. "My role was simple, I removed threats, typically without being seen, that were too remote or too dangerous to get to with an army. Commanders, supplies, field officers, if they were a threat, I removed them along side my Spectre siblings. As for Raynor's Raiders as a whole, they started as a rebel group fighting against the tyranny of a single man.

And by all means did this man deserve it. He used a rather hostile alien race to wipe out the life of an entire planet, even left some of his own behind to feed the Zerg Swarm, but that's ancient history by now. Now the Raiders serve in the military of the Terran Dominion as one of it's most elite military units. And Raynor is the last name of our commander, James, or Jim if you know him well, Raynor."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, and with a trail of sparks and a sonic explosion, a small, very alien looking (and unknown to this universe) vessel speeds into the planets atmosphere and into view above the city, flying by the spaceport, looking very damaged and recently in combat with another ship. Soon, following chase after the damaged alien vessel, comes two other human fighters, piloted by Unknown pilots, rebels and lawbreakers, which continually fire blasts of laser fire and the occasional torpedo at the Lalnanian ship. If one were to be using a communication device would pick up a creature yelling an unknown language and sounding in danger, with a human sounding creature yelling back in English something about the space port and using missles. A torpedo hits the right engine on the bomber, and sends flames and plasma to leak from the body. Soon, a very complicated manuver through the city causes the followers to crash into the streets, exploding into shards of metal and assorted fighter reckage. After the enemy fighters are dealt with, the heavily damaged Unknown spacecraft flies to the spaceport, docking in an empty bay and then shutting down shortly after docking, the damage finally taking its toll as the power systems shut down...

After docking, a strange fusion of fox, human, and snake steps out of the hatch, coughing on the smoke and odd gases that pour from the interior. He is illuminated from the back by flashing red and orange lights, which light up the one side of the damaged white, black, and green hull... He is armed, with an odd chestplate overtop of a equally odd zero suit. His suit is stained with blood, as is his chestplate and the plasma rifle attached to his hip. He coughs, and heads for the administration office, to talk about getting his ship repaired... Pinkish orange blood trails from his body, as he is very injured, even having a small bit of his skull missing, and his furry face and scaly neck are matted with a bit of strange pinkish blood as well as normal human blood, and a strange, oily green liquid...