"Well, that figures... Wilkins, you're with me..." Mac removed the slugs from the shotgun, replacing the two with tranq darts. He slammed the Lupara shut, slowly boarding the Ruby. He frowned, looking down at the blood trail leading deeper into the bowels of the ship. He frowned a bit, looking at the rifleman. "Strap up the carbine. Go to handgun." The man nodded as he did so, the two continuing on.

Mac wasn't too happy with more wounded appearing. He had put a man behind him to stitch him up, but even so, if whatever it was that did that to him kept wandering around the Ruby, it meant more work for him... and probably the end of nap time.

They kept to the sides, crouching low as they followed the drips of blood slowly, looking every which way.

"Good to see you alive." Seba said, eying the captain with a bit of disdain in her voice. "You saw me leaving, if you had any objection, you should have voiced it then. I got back as soon as I could." Frowning, she looked over at the wreckage, and then back over to Lepper. "I heard there was a prisoner taken. Where is he?"

"From what I've heard, someone decided to blow it up." Medic said. "I think someone was detained in the matter, I'm really not sure. But yes, there's been a lot of casualties with it. This whole trip's been a mess to be honest. On the way down one of the engines blew in this ship, and then a generator.. Almost thought we wouldn't get here to be honest.. So yeah, casualties and injured from both ships.. That's where I got this." She said with a small head toss, indicating to the bandages on her head.

Tying off and cutting the string from the wound she had been stitching shut, she wrapped a bandage over it. "That should do it. Just try to not rip the stitches, and get them removed professionally, or at least carefully and cleanly.. Leave them in for three weeks, especially with this one, it's deep." Looking up with a small smile at the Panteran, she caught a glimpse of someone standing at the door of the medical bay through the side of her eyes. It was Mac, and he looked.. Angry.

He stopped, lifting up a hand to Wilkins, who stopped as well. He looked to the medical room, blinking slowly at the large Pantheran standing there. He muttered something, lifting up his Lupara to level with the creature, his other hand grasping the handle of the tomahawk strapped to his back. His partner lifted up his own handgun, leveling it to the creature's head.

"Alright, kitty. Wanna tell me why you decided to use the guy out front like a scratching post, or you want I should knock you out now and sell you to one of the slavers outside? We are extremely strapped for cash, and frankly, that option's starting to look extremely tempting right about now..." He frowned, staying quiet.

Felix sighed. "Sounds like a lot of trouble." He said, before smiling slightly, "Although the blown up ship sounds nothing more than human error. If the crew had been alert enough, and the guards had been guarding, they could have stopped the bomber getting in; or at least could have limited casualties..."

Felix actually turned to face the two new figures, his ears focusing on them so he could.. Map them into his mind, what with the headband covering his eyes and all. His ears shooting back against his head at the word Slavers and the threat that came with it, Felix physically twitched, and flicked his hands down so the extra six inches of blade snapped out from his wristblades, before he launched himself from the table.

As his feet touched the floor, there was the pinging sound of snapping stitching as his muscles tightened considerably as he accelerated. one arm swooped up as Mac's partner changed his aim, the blades cutting through the bestpart of his arm, before the other blades came down diagonally cross the attackee's skull - before both blades were thrust through his chest, and pinned him to the wall.

After tearing the blades out with a considerable amount of sideways force, Felix gripped Mac's shirt and forced him against the wall, the blades either side of Mac's face - missing his jawbone by centimeters. All happened with the physical agility Felix possessed, and although he was considerably shorter than Mac, he didn't need to be much taller. "Do not... Talk, about slavers..." Felix hissed, physically shaking - both with the rage that burned hotter than the sun and seemed never to cool down, and the fact that his body was on the edge of failing. "Not now... Not in two years time... Not, Ever..."

Medic's gaze went from the now dead Wilkins, to the Panteran, to Mac. Mac; the annoying pompous pill popper who let her husband die, that was now possibly going to die himself. Am I okay with that?

"Hey.. Relax okay? Noone's going to sell you to anyone." Medic said as she walked over slowly to the two of them. Stopping when she was standing next to them, she put her hands out to her side to show that she wasn't holding anything that could be used against the Panteran. "Let's put those blades away. What's your name, you didn't tell me yet."

"... you're fuckin' kiddin', right? The damn thing just killed Wilkins, and the best you can do is ask him his damn name..." He looked over at the Pantheran, frowning some. "I'll talk about slavers whenever I damn well want. You just better watch yourself, Tomcat, I tend to favor usin' deer slugs to take rivals down. Doubt you'd survive the impact, though, buddy boy." He pressed the muzzels of his Lupara into the pantheran's side, not flinching a bit. He kept his gaze on the pantheran, snarling.

Felix almost relaxed as the Medic from before started being... Well, nice, and started to almost relinquish Mac's shirt, his ears starting to rise a little again, showing he was obviously relaxing.

Felix then twitched at the word 'Slavers' again, and his ears shot back once again, his grip on the man's shirt tightening once more.
Feeling the shotgun muzzle pressed to his side, he snarled and give out a faint hiss, before moving his blades up under Mac's chin. "I'll probably flinch first..." He growled, "I doubt you'd survive that, either." he could feel the natural, instinctual fear of... Well, damage to his fragile bones, but he ignored it.

After a few moments, be turned to 'look' at the female medic, and have a faint sniff. He couldn't smell anything on her - nothing metal, no gunpowder, no lead filings... He turned once again to look back at the man he had in a grip. "Its-" He began quietly, ears facing the medic, "They called me, Felix. I, suppose, you can call me that, too." He replied, before adding, "You couldn't pronounce my real name..." he added with a faint smile, "You don't have ears, or a tail."

"Well then Felix, it's nice to meet you. This is Mac, people call me Medic.. My name's really Alison though. You know you ripped your stitches, you're bleeding everywhere." There was a faint trail of amusement in her voice, as her arms going closer to the Pantheran's, suggesting that she was trying to help him. Suddenly going up to his face, she grabbed his headband off from around his eyes.

The species as a whole relied mainly on their hearing and sense of smell to guide them, and from watching him, she knew his eyes were little above worthless during the day; and with the bright lights of the medical room, this would hurt, but had to be done.

Demetrius huffed quietly as he walked through the crowded streets of Norune. Traders barked their wares out into the day whilst others haggled for them; not that he could hear any of them. having purchased a pair of earplugs from a vender, he had thusly put them in, and silenced the world around him. Many of the older shifty-traders did it a lot, to limit the sound around them - letting their eyes to the listening.

Even now, Demetrius could see dozens of people talking with their bodies.
-got a shipment of opiates.
-The decent stuff? Or the stuff that just rots away their minds and senses and leaves them useless?
-Oh no. The proper catnip.

Demetrius rolled his eyes at the mutterance of 'Cat Nip'. It was opium, yes; but refined, moderated. Too strong and it tore the Pantherans apart, mentally. It ruined their senses, their motor skills... The only safe way to do it was to regulate it carefully.

it was expensive; the smart, richer slavers would dope their Pantheran slaves - mixing it into their food, or giving it to them straight. Either way the effect was the same. if the Pantherans ran away, given a few days, the Pantherans would be back, crying for their next fix. It was cruel, but, it was the only way to keep the species from running - and staying - away, without killing them in the process of getting them back...

Turning to look over the hill he was on, he could see the ships, and shrugged. maybe he'd do some shopping, whilst he was here... The ships didn't seem in dire need of his attention...

Felix listened to what the Medic was saying. it was true what she said - every word - he could feel the needle in his arm pulling against the skin, the bag of Plasma hanging loosely on the cord. He could also feel the blood running freely from his wounds, and thrice the pressure of a human's. Felix relaxed slightly as... Alison closed in, hoping she was doing to do something about the wounds, before she pulled up his headband.

He was caught with his eyes open. His Pupils glowed bright gold as the reflected almost all the light they captured into his retinas, and back out his pupils. His pupils within miliseconds shrunk to the size of a pinhead, before Felix closed his eyes and screamed. Flinging his arms away from Mac, he covered his eyes with his hands - the light shining in through his eyelids still to bright to bare - Felix stumbled backwards, collapsed, and corned up in a corner. "My fecking eyes!" he less shouted than screamed, before giving a rather loud whine, and writhing a little, his eyes obviously still burning behind his hands from their shock.

"You human bastards are all the same!" He barked, before trying to wriggle his way into a corner, trying to keep away from the light that was spilling - naturally and unnaturally - into the room.

Her stomach felt sick as she listened to the screams of pain emitted from the Panteran, who, just moments before, had almost trusted her. Glancing around for a few things, Medic went to the counter and grabbed some gauze, more stitching thread, a needle, tape, and a pair of scissors. Walking over slowly to Felix, she kneeled down next to the writhing mass. Locating the needle in his arm, she grabbed his arm to steady it, and cut the gauze and tape off; quickly taking the needle out. Underneath the fur, his skin was badly bruised from the needle being jerked around so much in the vein. Putting a small gauze pad over the now bleeding spot, Medic taped it over, and let go of his arm.

There was a spot on Felix's side that was a critical wound. For human standards it was serious at best, but with a Panteran, she was surprised that he wasn't dead yet. As Medic began un-bandaging and retreating her previous work, she could feel Mac's eyes bore into the back of her skull.
"I don't care what you think Mac. We're doctors."

Lawrence blinked, looking over at the Bohrium on her back. His mind whirled, clicking as it worked, making connections here and there. "Is... Is that a Serenity Industries Model KML21 Bohrium Carbine, marked only for special usage of Gaian Special Forces, and never put into the civilian market?" He circled around her, looking at the gun. "By jove, I think it IS a Bohrium! How on earth did you ever manage to get your hands on this gun!?"

His mind kept ticking, stopping as he came to a sudden realization. "... unless you're a Gaian Special Forces member!" He looked over at the slavers, raising a brow. "Isn't it illegal to capture military personnel and sell them to slavery in Norune?"

"Gaian!? Whoa whoa whoa, we didn't know! Don't go blaming everything on us!" The slavers got defensive as they handed over the paperwork, looking at the odd looking pair. "Look, just show these papers to their military customs office, they should be able to clear up the whole mess when you get to a Gaian port."

Lawrence rolled his eyes, taking who he now knew as Sarah from the paperwork by the hand. "Come on, we're going to get a bite to eat. Now where in hell can I get a bite?"

The last line he muttered automatically got him, his guard, and their new friend by food vendors, all shouting offers and their menus.

"That's right, doctors. Not damn veterinarians." He looked over at the Pantheran, putting the Lupara in his back holster, pulling out a battered M1917 Colt revolver, pointing it at him. "I should just kill the damn thing right now before it tries to kill another one of the Foxes. I'm a Combat Medic, and my job is to protect my unit as well as fix em up, Alison. If this guy poses a threat, he's endangering my unit, and that means it's open season on it." He was panting, his other hand in a white knuckle fist.

Felix's ears turned to face Mac as he spoke, before snarling with a faint hiss, although didn't bother getting up, or trying to. There was no point; nor was he about to push Alison away; that would be a form of suicide. Felix was bleeding badly; he felt lucky to have more blood than a human, because... Well, he'd be a goner now if that were so.

"it was Humans that took everything I cared for away from me; I wouldn't be surprised if it would be Humans that took everything else away, too!" Felix barked in reply, spitting the word 'human' as if the simple act of saying it left an acrid taste in his mouth.

giving another pained whimper, Felix shuffled moreso into the corner, and pressed his hands against his eyes more so. the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was still burned into his eyes; he could still see it behind his eyelids as plain as day - horrible, horrible day...

"We locked him up in the Ruby's Brig, so feel free to go nuts on him. I'll be heading back into town to pick up some fresh recruits crazy enough to follow us. Who knows, we might be able to find something to do for some extra cash to pay for the damages." He was still angry, shaking his head. "We think the guy probably was with us before we left for Gaia, which would have explained how he got past the guard detail here. Problem is, we don't know who signed him up." He gave a nod to her, turning on the ball of his foot and headed for town, followed by the rifleman that was with him back in the slave quarter.

He figured the best place for anyone to look was the local tavern. After asking around the rest of the aerial docks, he was directed to a bar frequented by merchant airship crews coming into Norune. He looked at the directions scrawled onto the piece of paper, as the two of them looked around.

"Think this is gonna be a bit neater than most other places, boss?" The Rifleman looked over to Lep, raising his eyebrow.

"Doubt it. Probably another dirty little hole in the wall. If there's airship crews frequenting that place, you can bet it'll be welcoming, but you better watch your back. I wouldn't be surprised if they like to shanghai people."

Seba watched as the captain walked off, sighing deeply and looking off into some random nothingness for a few moments before she disappeared into the Ruby. Her fists were clenched, her pace was set, and people were moving out of her way as they saw her coming. Getting to the brig, she nodded to the guards stationed outside the doors, who unlocked them for her, letting her in. Walking in, the guards locked the doors after her.

The detainee was handcuffed to a chair. Upon her entering, he looked up at her without saying anything. Calmly pacing around the room once, Seba then stood in front of him, not saying anything. He spat at her.
Shaking her head in a semi-nod, Seba walked back over to the door and knocked on it. The guards let her out.

She waited an hour before going back in. The detainee looked at her. "You're back."
"Course. Can't leave you alone, can I? What, with what they're accusing you of."
He snorted in amusement before grinning. "Oh? Did you enjoy fireworks?"
"Unfortunately I wasn't here to enjoy them, I was somewhere else at the time."
"Aaaw, that's too bad!" His grin grew wider. "Perhaps, that calls for repeat performance, da?"
"... Unlikely. Unless that is, you want to blow up something of your own, or something of whoever you may be working for."
The grin disappeared, replaced with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, honey.. You know I can't tell you anything like THAAAAT~!"
"Course not, that'd be traitor-ism." Seba grinned. "Can't have that."
His face grew serious, before growing amused again. "So, do they send woman to do man's work here? Is-Graaagh.. Funny!"
Seba had gotten annoyed, probably not a good thing for interrogation, and shot one of his fingers off. Still holding the handgun, she looked at him with a small smile. "You were saying?"
He grinned, then started laughing. "Your guards are stupid. Let them know that." The detainee stood up; he had picked the inner workings of the handcuffs, and made them only look like they were properly functioning. Reaching to pull out a gun of his own, he was too slow, and found that he was soon falling backwards onto the floor, dead, with a bullet lodged in between his eyes.

Looking at him for a moment, she went over to the door and knocked on it. The guards opened it. "You didn't frisk him." Seba said as she walked away, the guards getting a surprised look and rushing in to the body. Putting her handgun away, she headed to the entrance of the Ruby, and then out to Norune. She needed a drink.

Demetrius shook his hand in a light fist, before blowing on his newly-purchases brass knuckles, and looking at the six-foot tall, well-built male now splayed out on the floor, people stepping over him - and sometimes on him - to get by. Demetrius still had the mask over his face. Placing it on the back of his head gave the added advantage of eyes in the back of his head - or so he believed - but currently two eyes facing forward would do him better.
"Do not think, just because you big, and built, that means no one can kill you." Demetrius frowned down at the man, his voice muffled to himself, and himself alone, thanks to the earplugs in his ears. "Do not pick-pocket Mercenaries - especially not Demetrius!" He added, grinning broadly. His grin soon fading, he looked over a a small crowd of people who had been talking in Norune Signals for a while, and make his own couple of movements.
-Drag this bastard away. You can probably make a good fortune from the kit he's carrying - and his organs, if you have the heart to.

Leaning down, Demetrius pulled the battle rifle from the man's back and inspected it, before walking away. The pack of men he had signalled to, however, had started to pull the gorilla of a man away.
'C'mon big fella.'
'where... Where are you taking me-'
'Figured you might like to see some of our machinery...
Demetrius heard behind him as the men called over the crowds before Demetrius was particularly far away.

Slinging the newly aquired battle-rifle over his back, Demetrius smiled faintly. Norune was like a beautiful, big-breasted woman, in many respects; people flocked to see Norune and its wonders, whilst others flocked to the great city to attempt to reap her rewards; if you tried to tear away the Norune's outer layer to reveal her bulging, throbbing rewards you were thrown out on your ass - or burried before you died, if you pissed off the wrong people; but if you knew how to treat Norune, if you knew where to look, what to say and how to act, Norune soon revealed her secrets to you...
It was why Demetrius loved the city, really. Oh, it was no Dessaria, but Norune had some wonderful things; it was here you could buy pleasure, buy happiness, buy death and purchase anything your mind desired, if you knew where to look and how to act.

Turning, Demetrius pushed open a Tavern door and stepped in, making a beeline for the bar, the mask still over his face.
"I'll have a Vodka."" Demetrius said in Dessarian, confident the barman would hear him. After the liquid was poured out, the gunpowder and metal filings tickling against the glass, Demetrius handed over eight one-ounce Dessarian notes, and took the half-pint of Dessarian Vodka, before sitting down, moving the mask to the side of his face, facing the door. Another thing he loved about Norune - is he didn't have to talk in bloody Arcand...

Sarah blinked at all the food vendors now yelling at them, before snatching her hand back from the very tall man, looking at him with a huffy face. "How do you know so much about my gun? Are you in the military? Are you a spy?" She frowned at him, before looking antsy. "I'm not telling you anything, you know."

"Hey, that place has noodles!" The awkward silence was broken as Sarah ran off into the crowd to the noodle vendor.

Medic paused slightly as she heard Felix's cry of hate about humans, followed by the whimpers of pain. Standing up, she went over to a cupboard and grabbed a small syringe and bottle of morphine. Measuring out a dose that was appropriate for his size, she injected it into him, and then finished re-stitching his wounds; giving him another plasma drip as well.

"Pantherans are humanoid, Mac." Medic's voice was icy quiet. "You know that. Regardless of him endangering your unit, he's injured. In every war that's ever been fought, an injured enemy that is at a medical camp has been treated. You know that as well. Besides, it's not your place to decide what to do with him. We'll let the captain do that."

After waiting a few minutes to make sure the morphine had taken effect, Medic replaced the headband around Felix's eyes.

Felix felt the needle enter, and soon exit the skin, and knew something had been injected. Soon what felt like another plasma drip was inserted, and she continued stitching the wounds - which stung, but was numbed slightly by his still throbbing retinas.

Pantherans... manoid, mac. know, regardless endang- injured. War- thought, enemy, medical camp...
Words passed through his mind, sounding like he had once heard Arcand but for a few words; Alien, gibberish; many words being structureless, meaningless shapes of a sound formed by acid tongues and interpreted by unknowing ears; the sudden shock to his eyes had effecting his primary senses, too; like a strong smell makes a human's eyes water, Felix's smell-and-sound mapping had become blurred, patchy; the two still existed in the technicolour rainbow that was the world, lined and accented by bold strikes of sound that bubbled and fizzed with changing wind currents, but they felt confused, mixed up...

The Morphine soon kicked in, and helped his sensual predicament none either. He relaxed still as the strong pain-killer took hold, systematically numbing his body like a wave, bringing attention only to the previously unnoticed pains in his wounds; he hadn't noticed them, really, but now that they were gone, suddenly he could remember them hurting a lot... His eyes stopped aching too; and as his supercharged metabolism worked on an opiate designed for humans, he could feel himself relaxing, mentally and physically, the sensual 'map' of the world around him blurring further and shifting as if swinging and twitching on power-assisted hinges. Soon after, Felix actually managed a faint smile...

Samuel began to stir himself awake. He tried to open his eyes, but they ached too much to be opened fully and the light that began to flood in was far too bright him at this time in the day. As his mind started to come into focus, Samuel tried to figure out where he was, which wasn't easy when his mind was in a complete state. The first thing he noticed was the soft object he was lying, which seemed reasonably familiar.

Hmm, so I guess I'm in my cabin.. He thought to himself.

He tried to quickly sit upright, but a sharp throbbing sensation in his head stopped him from completing this manoeuvre too soon, forcing him to rise from his bed slowly. Trying to open his eyes once more, he squinted around the room. Even though all he could see was extremely blurry, he definitely could tell he was in his cabin upon the Ruby, the large Aekean flag and Serenity Industries memorabilia on various walls and shelves gave that away.

Spotting what he recognised as his bedside table, he slowly leant forward to feel around the table's surface.

"I know there's a pair of sunglasses somewhere.."

He soon found them, an old pair of aviators he'd had for several years. A present from his late father he received when he was just a young teenager. Putting on the sunglasses, he opened his eyes further to try get a better view of his room, the visors enabling him to get a much clearer view of the room. His gaze quickly spotted several bottles on the floor.

"Strange, lager normally doesn't have that effect on.."

He was interrupted when he kicked the bottle over, the large Levanian text now revealed on its side which roughly translated as Levanian Standard Vodka.

"Ah, that'll be why."

Sliding his legs over the edge of the bed, he slowly and carefully slid himself off the bed, his legs barely taking his weight. Thankfully, Samuel was still fully clothed, save for his half opened shirt. Sniffing himself quickly, he noticed a strong smell of vodka and a pungent musky odour. Swaying his head slightly in a moment of self convincing, Samuel deemed himself to be appropriate enough to be seen by the crew and began to slowly make his way out of his office and into the corridor, making a slow shuffle to the medical bay for a dose of paracetamol or four.

"Well, you see, I- Hey WAIT! Come back!" He ran off after her, the rifleman doing the same as they shoved through the vendors, already beginning to disperse as the small group owning the noodles establishment cheered and high fived each other, now happy of their conquest in the ongoing struggle of merchant vs merchant over the attention of customers.

He stopped near Sarah, looking at the Bohrium rifle on her back once again. He ordered three bowls of noodles, three drinks, and even some cakes for the road. The vendors were all but happy to oblige as Lawrence slipped in an Arcand 50 gold standard note into the tip jar. He paid them for the meal, then looked back down at Sarah.

"Like I was saying, the reason I know so much about your gun is... Well, the rifleman here is the only one that knows so far, and I don't want you telling every bloke or sheila you see on the Ruby. I'm Lawrence Hemingway III, heir to the Hemingway International fortune. I specialize in the defense contracts, so anything about our competitors at Serenity Industries, as well as guns from around the world, I will know."

"Hemingway International? I don't like their stuff. You can't run well with it. And the bigger artillery pieces jam a lot. I like what Serenity makes." Sarah said nonchalantly as she gulped some of her drink, seemingly uncaring to the fact that she was speaking to the heir of the company. "And what do you mean by 'on the ruby'? That would have to be a very big stone to accommodate people.. Why did you buy me? Aside from the fact you have money to waste, not using it on gun development..."

Waving her now empty drink cup in the vendor's face, he quickly took it from her, issuing her a refill.

He snarled a bit, frowning a bit as he looked at the pantheran. He muttered something in Seranto under his breath, taking his helmet off and throwing it at the wall angrily, turning back to face Medic.

"Alright... fine, but I'm only doin' this for you, not for his ass, not for the boss. For. You. Not anyone else. But if he so much as slices another guy up like he did to Wilkins or the kid outside again, he's under MY jurisdiction, and that means he gets two darts. I won't kill him, but you bet your ass it's gonna be the strongest shit I got. If you need me, Alison, I'll be gettin' myself a drink..." With that, he picked up his helmet and slammed it back down on his head, storming out of the medical room.