Becoming: The Gods Demand [complete]

[Atticus Almasy]

He sighs and looks in the mirror
And he can't tell anymore
Who he really is and who they believe him to be
And he sighs and walks a thin line
Between what is and what could be
He's getting closer
To something he can't understand

Cause there's a crack in his plastic crown
And his throne of ice is melting
He climbed his ladder
And there was nothing there
And now it's a long way down

Cause on and on and on he goes
Dancing on the grave
Of what he thought was still alive
On and on and on he goes
Dancing in mansions made of twigs
And castles made of sand

He sighs and his head is filled with
Cartoons and fairy tales
And he's trapped inside a dungeon of dolls
With smiles on their faces
He's built a pretty cage
His shows on a beautiful stage
With candy coated prison bars
And chains that look like jewelry

Cause there's a crack in his plastic crown
And his throne of ice is melting
He climbed his ladder
And there was nothing there
And now it's a long way down

Cause he lives inside
Of fairy tales and castle lands
And there's room inside
For false expectations and illusions


Dead! No, never! It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t. Atticus collapsed to his knees and wept unashamedly.

“Why, God?! Why did you take him from me?!”

He had sinned.

“Sinned? Is that what you call it?” he looked up with damp eyes at the dark ceiling of his small apartment.

“He was the greatest man to ever live and you took him from me. We were like brothers. Brothers!”

You had never met.

“Don’t talk to me, I’m sick of you, Switz,” he shot an accusing glare at the space to his left.

You asked why he was gone.

“I asked God, not you, you corrupter!”

Fine. See how long you last alone in your mourning.

He scrambled backwards and hurled a book at what, or who, ever he believed he was talking to. How dare that idiot profane this holy temple? For a year now he’d follow Atticus everywhere, even into this his most holy sanctuary to the beast Gods.

“FRELL OFF!”

To put it mildly, Atticus Almasy was schizophrenic. All of his life, without realizing it, he had been creating alternate personalities for himself and having conversations with them. It just so happened that this one, who he had just been arguing with had stuck around longer than the others. He’d never had a friend in all of his life, never at a real one at least, until…

“Vega,” he wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

It had been a boyish curiosity at first, but it had quickly become something more. With only his own mind and conscience to advise him, Atticus had become of the delusion that he was well aquatinted with the Sith Lord Vega Van-Derveld – in fact he’d spoken with him numerous times, of their plans to take over Coruscant and then the univ-

Atticus.

Eyes darting upwards to his candle-lit shrine, Atticus wasted barely a moment before prostrating himself before the alter. He had just heard the voice of his God – or at least what he believed was his God. More likely than not it was simply another one of the voices in his head, but there was really no proof either way.

Avenge your comrade, the voice commanded.

Comrade, my ar-

SILENCE IMPUDENT FOOL

His head turned very slightly so that he could see Switz. Switz was such a blasphemous frell.

Bring me a sacrifice, my son.

I will give you what you wish when you have spilt the blood of a virgin with this dagger.

To Atticus’ surprise, a knife had appeared – or at least, he thought it had. Actually, the boot knife was always there, he just tended to blind spot it – more than one of the people in his head had informed him that it was dangerous and touching it wasn’t a good idea.

Do this for me, my child, and you will have all the power of your fallen brother.

Atticus, don’t be an idiot.

“Silence!!” the dagger was seized up and with a snarl he plunged the blade into thin air and tore at Switz’s heart. His own heart was thumping, pounding as he thought about what was ahead of him. He got to his feet and saw the blood on the knife, quickly wiping it away in the hope that he would not displease his deity.

Go, child. Go to the city and realize my will, the voice said, and off Atticus took into Coruscants dark night.

[Atticus Almasy]

Behind Atticus ran a host of characters. There was his conscience, Tagani – she was an attractive woman who he’d had a brief relationship with, but had ended in favor of his pursuit of Vega. His bodyguards Reno and Karl, two burly men who didn’t say much beyond ‘ugh’ and ‘time to die’. Ahrona the Priest tried to keep up, but he was so old that he was having a difficult job. Miraculously, Switz had reappeared sans massive bleeding and was keeping the best pace.

They were all chattering amongst themselves when Atticus halted suddenly at a street corner. He waved a hand for them to be silent and tried to look as casual as possible, hoping passersby wouldn’t notice the odd entourage behind him. If Reno and Karl didn’t dress like bondage slaves, it would have been so much easier.

Why don't you go get a coffee and rethink this?

That was Tagani. Everloving voice of reason. How it annoyed him.

“I’m not rethinking, God has spoken to me. You can’t ignore that. But…”

His eyes drifted wearily to a coffee shop ahead. He was feeling tired. There would be no way he could overpower someone if he was dead on his feet. With Ahrona huffing and puffing, having just caught up with the others, the small troop headed to the diner. Atticus held the door open for the others, and caught some more odd looks – Reno and Karl’s fault.

“I’ll have…” he began to count on his fingers, “six coffees.”

I want a beer.

“… okay, five coffees and a beer. And a donut.”

Another pause in which he scowled, “Two donuts, one chocolate, one plain.”

Sighing, he headed over to a big booth and found himself sandwiched between his two manly mercenary guards.

And so he waited.

[Brielle Acaana]

This was becoming something of a habit - a bad one - and Brielle cursed herself for it, hating the weakness she both felt and showed.

Drinking alone was never good but when you lock yourself in your apartment after hours, how can anyone join you? It suited Brielle better that no one took notice. The name Acaana still held weight and could influence some of those in power. A good name and respectable reputation had always been important in her family and if word got out on a public level, it would shame the family.

The first misadventure at Yog's Bar and Grill was put down as a bout of illness and Brielle didnt correct the mistake. A Jedi Knight had looked after her and on his word, nothing more was thought of it.

Tonight made her second time ending up at the B&G, though thankfully she was no where near as tanked as before. Sipping her cup of caffe, Acaana let her bloodshot gaze rove across the four other occupants of Yog's.

The first was the bartender, who kept wiping down the countertop every few minutes. Seated at a table close to the entrance was a male who was probably the driver of the air taxi parked outside. Third was a girl, probably late teens and possibly a runaway.

And fourth. Now, here was a doozey. Brielle had watched him from the time he opened the door until now. It was clear that he thought he had company with him because he was continually talking to the air on either side of him and across the table as well.

This wasnt all that unusual for the off duty Watch officer to observe. What was different this time is that the man had ordered food for his imgainary friends. She was curious as to what he would do when none of them ate the donuts.

Settling more comfortably against the booth seat, Brielle took another sip from her mug. This was going to be interesting.

[Atticus Almasy]

I know you want to please him but really Atticus...

Listen to her.

She does have a point, boy.

Ugh.

Atticus shook his head as he tried to hurry down a mouthful of his donut – Ahrona had confessed that he actually didn’t want one, so now he had two and nothing to do with them! How annoying.

“You’re all just going to have to deal with it. I’m in charge,” he stated with great authority, groaning as Karl shifted to pick up his bottle but then apparently changed his mind at the last moment. Atticus looked at him.

…ugh.

A likely story.

Rolling his eyes, he picked up his coffee and took a long sip. It was absolutely scolding hot, but it didn’t bother him much. The others looked like they were waiting for their drinks to cool down, or warm up, respectively.

He has a point.

Atticus jumped and Ahrona coughed a little harder than usual. How had he gotten in?! No one had seen the door open, yet Pepito was now standing right there by the table. None of the other voices liked Pepito. Even if they enjoyed pocking fun at Atticus’ predicament, Pepito was the worst – and he encouraged the worst behavior.

Move up, Reno, the man in red spandex slid down into the same seat as the leather twins and Atticus, who was further compressed and gasped for air.

What are we up to tonight? When are we going virgin hunting?!

“SHHH! Someone will hear you!” Atticus looked about frantically and saw a woman staring at him.

Now you’ve done it.

She looks nice.

Atticus grinned, bits of donut stuck between his coffee-stained teeth.

“You want one,” he asked through half a mouthful, holding up his quarter of a donut, “I’ve got one spare.”

[Brielle Acaana]

"No, but thanks. Im not hungry. Please, go ahead and finish it."

That was the great thing about Watch training. One had to learn to take everything - and everybody - in stride and this poor guy was no different than the hundreds of thousand others walking free somewhere on the streets of Coruscant.

Brielle cut her eyes away for a few seconds, giving the the nutjob time to relax once more, now that he realized she had been looking.

[Atticus Almasy]

Haha - no one likes you! Pepito jeered getting up and launching into a wonderful little dance, twirling the devils tail on his suit about in an overdramatic camp fashion. He capered about for a few minutes, dancing on the bar top on the tables and even right by Brielle. All the while, Atticus buried his head in his hands.

Atticus Atticus he's our man! If he can't do it, it wouldn't surprise me!

“SHUT UP!”

Reno moved as if on cue and Atticus stumbled out of the booth onto the diner floor.

Atticus Atticus he's our MAN! Or is he, it’s debatable, kids!

The beer bottle was up in his hands before anyone could do anything and he swung it for Pepito’s head, letting it slip from his fingers as he turned and ran for the door. The knife found its place into his palm once again as he vanished into the night, leaving the party alone in the both.

Nice, Pepito. Reeeeeeeal nice.

[Brielle Acaana]

Snapping up in her seat, Bri's hand darted inside her leather pouch, latching onto the private comm and pulling it out.

Hopping out of her seat, she paused long enough to give Almasy's table a quick visual once-over before calling into the station.

"Stationhouse, this is officer Brielle Acaana. Im currently at Yog's Bar and Grill. I want a cruiser sent around to keep an eye out for a male, approximately 6 '2", dark brown hair, green/hazel eyes. Subject's behavior is odd, talking to himself, imagining others with him. Be advised: subject is armed with a knife. Repeating: subject is armed with a knife. I am pursuing on foot. No arrest to be made ...yet. Acaana out."

Trotting to the door, she turned and looked at the bartender as the NR guard handed back her weapon.

"Take a couple of tablecloths and cover his table up. I have a feeling we're going to need it for evidence later. Thanks."

[Atticus Almasy]

Somehow, without Atticus’ presence, the troop disappeared at the diner – and appeared running behind him once more, although Pepito was more skipping than running. Reno managed to launch himself onto his employer from behind and both went crashing to the floor, with Atticus flailing and thrashing, trying to break free from beneath he man’s immense wait.

Calm down, boy! the benevolent voice of Ahrona said.

You’ll never catch someone if you’re all a-fluster!

Breathing heavily through his nose, Atticus allowed himself to be still. He turned his head away from Pepito’s grinning face. He was going to kill him someday. Tonight maybe, but he had his work today.

“Alright, alright. I’m calm.”

You made a big scene back there, hot shot.

He shrugged and didn’t reply.

Ugh.

“Yeah, you’re right, Karl… let’s go. I have to find someone before the full moon.”

When did God say that?

It’s a natural rule for all of these holy quests, isn’t it?

Oh… so he didn’t just make it up so he can get back and watch the Channel X special?

Ugh.

Ooooohhooo boy I know what you mean. When she put the-

Atticus snapped a hand into the air.

“Everyone shhh! Be vewy vewy quiet. I’m hunting viwgins.”

And tiptoed on.

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

The Night Watch – it was Dirka’s first week and so far things had been going great. She had transferred from the Day Watch simply because she had developed a loathing for most of her co-workers. She had high standards and not many people managed to reach the level that she set. Everyone in the evening shift seemed quiet and efficient, however, and that was how she liked it.

“Repeating: subject is armed with a knife. I am pursuing on foot. No arrest to be made ...yet. Acaana out.”

The Lupine smirked. Mad man on the run. Use of deadly force permitted. This was her lucky night. She headed out into the night alone, pistols strapped to her thighs and telescopic nightstick at the ready. She would find the lunatic first and bag him on behalf of her shift. Oh, Brielle would be soooo bitter, she couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of it.

[Brielle Acaana]

The one thing good about visitng Yog's in the middle of the night was that she didnt particularly care how she dresed. Tonight was no exception and she had thrown on what was the handiest. It proved fortuitous.

Brielle caught just a glimpse of the man as he rounded a corner ahead of her and she took off at a run, her body protesting at the abuse. At least she had slipped on athletic footwear which made the pursuit easier.

With her pouch slung over her head and one shoulder it was staying put as she tracked after Almasy, gun in one hand and comm in the other. Every block, Acaana would call in her new position, hoping that whoever was responding would hurry their butts up. If she didnt get backup soon, the man was going to get away.

[Atticus Almasy]

Hookers and whores.

Hookers and whores?!

Just your type of people.

I hate to break this to you…there aren’t going to be any virgins here, mate.

Atticus looked around the dark alleyway. There were a few girls standing about, eyeing him expectantly. They were all right. No one here would do, so he walked on by.

Isn’t it amazing how many people walk the streets alone at night?

“I’d never do that,” Atticus mumbled in reply as the cadre came to what looked like a beggars nest of some kind. He sniffed the air – whiskey, death and sweat. Yes, beggars alright. He began to creep forward, towards a young woman laying on the floor.

Someone is going to notice you skulking about with that knife, the light of the moon caught the silver blade as it glinted in the dark.

It’ll be too late then, he thought as he edged his way towards his victim.

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

Dirka could run. She could probably run for Coruscant. She just never seemed to get tired, and even when she did she would push on and on, probably until he legs gave way … and even then you’d hear the sound of her nails scraping the stone as she tried to pull herself along. She hopped a fence or two and ended up not too far from the last check-in Brielle had given.

Her vision shifted into monochrome and suddenly colors flourished. She saw Brielle’s scent trailing off ahead and picked it up, following as quickly as silently as possible. Soon enough another unfamiliar, adrenaline laced smell appeared – that must have been their quarry. The scent was fresh, and that meant he had to be close.

[Brielle Acaana]

Her lungs were burning, her legs were aching and she felt like any second now that she would have to stop and hurl. Sweat was beading and running down the front and back of her sweat shirt and down in her eyes. Swinging an arm up, Brielle swiped at her face, trying to clear her vision.

Her pace had slowed by half but she wasnt giving up. Pushing on, she stayed the course she had last seen her quarry run down.

Brielle slowed even more as she began noticing people on the sidewalks and in the street. Gasping for breath, she managed ti sputter out her question about a running man.

One toothless old crone lifted a skeletal hand and pointed in the direction Brielle was already heading - deeper into the dark underside of the city.

[Atticus Almasy]

…Atticus!

He froze and turned, the knife still poised to strike.

Please, Atticus. I’m begging you. What good can come of this?

What bad can come of it?

There they were, shoulder to shoulder, the angel and devil that acted as Atticus’ benefactors and malefactors all in one. His lips twisted into a slight sneer as he shook his head.

“Don’t you understand?” he whispered, “God has promised. God. God does not lie.”

What about war, famine, pestilence and all that?

“Did God promise to take those away?”

No!

“He hasn’t failed me yet.”

Ahrona nodded sagely. He was a devout follower of ‘God’ and professed many a time that he had never done a wrong deed. His faith was blind and Atticus wondered sometimes if he had ever known anything else than pious priesthood. He had heard God only a few years ago, when he had become interested in Vega. It seemed like a long time ago now, the day he’d first seen him on the Galactic News Network. Since then he had spent every single penny of his earnings on information brokers and newspapers, trying to track and follow his movements. He truly was fanatical.

“I have faith. Do you all?”

There was silence.

“Whoever is without faith shall perish,” he continued, and once again Ahrona agreed.

You will perish in jail! Don’t be so naïve!

“Your concern is not appreciated, Tagani. When I want your advice, I will ask for it.”

Atticus turned and made a beeline for the woman on the floor, not hearing footsteps approaching from behind due to the pounding of his heart. The anticipation.

[Brielle Acaana]

How in all the gods' names do people see down here?!

Streetlights were scarce on this side of Coco district and Brielle was almost moving ahead blindly. An occasional taxi would share its brightness for a few seconds, then be gone once more. A few of the people scattered up and down the sidewalks had lit fires, huddling close for the warmth and relative safety - using what, Brielle wasnt even going to hazard a guess.

A small palm-sized torch was in the pouch at her side but with all the other paraphenalia cluttered there, she worried that the slightest jingle would alert the man she was stalking.

One of the fires flared briefly, creating a sudden burst of light and thats when she saw him, knife in hand and creeping silently up behind a sleeping (or dead) form on the sidewalk. Her weapon snapped up and Acaana dropped her comm unit as she took the classic stance, both hands wrapped around the butt of her gun.

'Freeze!! Coruscant Watch - youre under arrest! Drop the knife now!"

[Atticus Almasy]

Atticus froze, as he had been instructed to. What was he going to do now? Why hadn’t he moved faster? It was all their fault for stopping him. He turned his head slightly and saw that Reno and Karl had stopped just behind him – they would shield him from the bullet. Hmm. He held up his hands, but did not drop the knife.

Ohhh no you’re DOOMED now!

“Shh! Don’t make any moves or she’ll shoot us, you idiot.”

What about the sacrifice?

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

Dirka rounded the corner into the dead-end and saw Brielle already there. The nut was under the spot light, but was still armed, apparently oblivious to the fact that a gun was trained on his back.

“Officer Acaana, I’ll take it from here.”

There was a hiss of displaced air as the nightstick slid out to its full length. The Sergeant strode to Brielle’s side and glanced at her for a moment before beginning to approach Atticus.

[Brielle Acaana]

If the situation hadnt have been so critical, Brielle wouldve laid her gun up along-side Burckharf's head and damned the consequences.

The fact that this loon was Acaana's collar and had been the entire way was beside the point. Dirka was once again butting in and trying to assert whatever authority she mistakenly thought she had over the forensics officer and Brielle had had enough.

But she was a professional and had learned from Zemil Vymes himself how to handle ugly situations such as this - you ignored it until the crisis was over then beat the living dren out of the other person when both were off duty.

Brielle nodded curtly to Burckharf, indicating that she'd heard and took a step to the left, angling for a better target as Dirka moved in.

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

“Sir, I’m approaching you from behind now. If you could drop the knife on the ground and slowly turn around, with your hands in the air…”

She didn’t use a gun. She loathed them. When she was taking someone out, she wanted to do it fairly – or at least what she considered fairly. A few more steps forward and the man still hadn’t made a move.

“Sir, I’ll ask you once more.”

He looked like he was trembling… muttering something to himself perhaps. God knows how, but the woman he had been advancing on was still asleep. Why wasn’t this idiot doing what she was asking?! Quickening her advance, she rose the nightstick, ready to give the boy a crack on the head if needed.

[Atticus Almasy]

There’s too of them…

…you’re outnumbered…

…time to kick some BUNS!

Atticus could feel her approaching. The other one was … well, somewhere still. The light was still on him. Karl and Reno had moved and somehow they hadn’t gotten shot. What was he going to do?

Take a hostage.

“What?”

Get the one behind you. She hasn’t got a gun on you. Get her.

Slowly, he began to turn around. Dirka was approaching. He wouldn’t have minded being frisked by her.

“Certainly, Officer.”

As she came closer, she reached out with one hand to take the knife from him. She looked strong – was this going to work? Too late now. He had snapped an arm around her. She was thrashing at him with the stick btu the knife soon pressed against her throat and she froze.

“I’ll slit her throat.”

Frelling.

“I’ll frelling slit her throat!!”

[Brielle Acaana]

Brielle watched in horror as Dirka, in all her cockinees, hurried her approach and lifted her nightstick. What the frell was she doing?!

Then it happened. The man turned, twisted and grabbed - Burckharf now had his knife at her throat and something told Brielle that he would use it, too.

"Theres no need for that. Lets both stay calm and no one will get hurt, I promise."

"Youre lieing, I frelling know it!!"

"Im your donut buddy, remember....back at the diner......you offered to share with me. That was nice, real nice of you to do that........I wouldnt lie to you, not after we talked."

Dont fight him, Dirka, just stay calm. Why the frell did I drop my comm??

Brielle knew exactly where it was...one step to the right and two steps back. If only she could reach it.

"Come on, now......we're friends. Please, just put the knife down."

[Atticus Almasy]

Atticus looked down at his captive, who would writhe every so often. Despite appearances, he was a strong man. He could hold his own in a fight easily – it was part of his faith to be both physically and mentally fit, although the latter was still a matter under question.

“You put the gun down first.”

Oh Atticus no!

WOOHOO! FINALLY some action!

Pepito was off again, jumping around Brielle, bumping and grinding on her. Atticus gave her a confused stare as she just let the man in devil horns feel her up.

“P-put the gun down and step away from it.”

[Brielle Acaana]

Her palms were beginning to sweat and carefully she readjusted her grip. She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile to the man.

"I cant do that.....but I'll tell you what 'we' can do.....we can talk... you and I.....about anything you want. We could even go back to that diner......I'll buy you another breakfast......."

Acaana kept talking, her tone even and relaxed as she tried to cajole and humor the suspect who now had a knife to her 'partners' throat.

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

The stench of fear on Atticus was choking. She twisted and turned, looking down at the knife against her neck. It was hot – or at least it felt hot. Maybe he was intending to cauterize whatever wounds he gave.

“Shoot him!” she barked, hissing as she was pulled backwards once more.

“I’ll heal, SHOOT HIM!”

[Atticus Almasy]

At that moment Atticus suddenly felt a hot pain. He had not been fired upon, but his groin had just been delivered a swift heel. Dirka slipped away out of his hands and looked like she was about to twist and give him a good thumping with the baton. There was no time to loose!

reeReeREE Pepito screeched as he mimicked stabbing actions, while his counterpart Tagani watched in horror.

As Dirka went in to take out his legs, Atticus dove at her and the blade of the knife sheathed itself in her shoulder. She howled and something began steaming off of her clothed flesh. Quickly, he pulled her body upwards to make a shield and watched the horror on her face, pupils thinned and skin paled.

He yanked out the knife and saw that the wound looked like it had just been bitten by a thousand deadly snakes. The blade was coated, slick, with blood. Why would she have such an adverse reaction to the knife if she wasn’t…

“A VIRGIN!”

Atticus grinned broadly and looked up to the dark sky. Lightning did its thing and struck a plank over Brielles head, spraying hot wooden sparks outwards and sending the beam down towards the Watch officer.

“I HAVE DONE WHAT YOU ASKED! GIVE ME MY REWARD!”

Dirka, convulsing, watched with horror as he stood and spread his arms, forgetting the gun and all around him. He began to shake and then all of a sudden went perfectly still.

[Denali Gue]

(delete please)

[Brielle Acaana]

She squeezed the trigger, her aim true - until the lightning struck.

Acaana was thrown backwards from the explosive energy of the bolt, which was fortunate for her as the thick wooden beam fell exactly where she had been standing. The bullet from her gun shot off into the night to land who knew where but her grip was such that she retained her weapon.

Not that it would have done her any good. The flash had been so intense, so bright that for the next few minutes she would be blind to anything.

Getting to her knees, Brielle searched the street, patting her way along as she tried to find her comm unit. Dirka needed help badly. Brielle had seen how deeply the blade had sunk and knew that the internal bleeding was the most immediate danger but that soon organ shut downs would complicate her situation.

"Dirka! Im here! Dont give up...Im trying to find the comm! Hang on, just keep hanging on!"

Frantically, she kept feeling along the ground, fully aware that since the lightning strike she had lost all track of Atticus and what he might be doing if he were still alive.

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

Dirka had watched as the beam had almost crushed her co-worker, then a bullet had let fly and struck one of the many glow lamps that hung high above the streets. It shattered and sprayed sparks everywhere, leaving the Sergeant veiled by jumping light and lost to the now temporarily blinded forensics officer. She cradled her wound – the knife had been silver, and as a werewolf should could not touch the metal without burning herself.

"Dirka! Im here! Dont give up...Im trying to find the comm! Hang on, just keep hanging on!"

“Get that DREN!” she yelled – inside her body was already working to try and heal itself, but it would be an incredibly slow process thanks to the silver blade. Much like Brielle, in the miniature maelstrom she could not see what was going on.

[Lord Van-Derveld]

Something cold touched Brielle’s neck.

“The tip of the blade is right against your jugular, officer. One move, and I will cut it.”

Had Brielle looked up, she would have seen Atticus smiling coldly down at her. In one hand he held the hilt of the blade which was held precariously against her flesh and in the other was the Watchmen’s communications unit.

“Do you know how long it would take you to bleed to death from such a wound?”

He asked, in a calm vaguely patronizing voice.

“Less than thirty seconds. I would wager that is just a little below the amount of time your friend has left to live.”

He slipped the communicator into his breast pocket and took a rough hold of Brielle’s shoulder with his free hand.

“You could be smart, as I imagine you are, officer, and allow me to leave so that you can tend to your fallen comrade – or you can attempt a little one-man vengeance and try to attack me, risking loosing your fellow officer in the process.

I would not advise the latter.”

[Brielle Acaana]

Brielle froze as the cool metal touched her skin. His voice had changed as had his demeanor but that wouldnt occur to her until later that night.

His fingers dug into her shoulder as he halfway pulled her onto her knees.

“You could be smart, as I imagine you are, officer, and allow me to leave so that you can tend to your fallen comrade – or you can attempt a little one-man vengeance and try to attack me, risking loosing your fellow officer in the process."

Brielle let the gun clatter to the permacrete as a sign of her compliance. It didnt matter now. With their loss of vision, he could have already killed them both.

"I just want to help her....I dont care about you. Please......I need to call for medics.......my comm, I cant find it......"

[Lord Van-Derveld]

The toe of Vega’s boot knocked away the gun, just enough out of reach. He then let go of the officer and removed the communicator once more. Clearing his throat, he lifted the device close to his lips.

As he spoke, his voice remained lifeless, “Watch Yard, please send immediate assistance to the beggars nest off Kings Street. Something terrible has happened. An officer is wounded and another unable to see.”

The signal cut and the handheld device dropped to the floor, quickly finding itself crushed beneath Vega’s boot.

“Give your comrade my thanks for her help, officer.

Both of you have performed commendably this evening, given the circumstances.”

The blade was suddenly gone, leaving only a thin red line, no blood trace of blood, as a result of the pressure it had exerted against Brielle’s skin. The soft shink of the knife sheathing could be heard, followed by retreating footsteps.

[Brielle Acaana]

With his footsteps still echoing in the darkness, Brielle half walked/crawled over to Dirka, the others' heavier breathing guiding the way.

Carefully, she lifted Burckharf's head and cradled it on her lap, wiping away the beads of sweat on Dirka's forehead.

Some of her sight was beginning to return and Acaana could just make out that the other officer had her hand over the wound.

"Here, use my shirt."

With as little movement as possible, Bri pulled off the sweat and folded it into a bulky square to place over the injury.

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

The fuse seemed to have shorted the lamp above, cutting off the electricity supply – it had stopped vomiting sparks into the air. Dirka twisted and flinched a little under the pressure of the fabric against her shoulder. It was aching terribly, but refused to show that she was pained – breathing out heavy short breaths through gritted teeth.

“Did you get him?”

[Brielle Acaana]

".........he got away. I thought it best to see after you instead."

Brielle sighed quietly. Well, the peace between them had lasted all of what...2 minutes? That was a new record, so porgress was being made.

"We can look at mug shots later. He shouldnt be difficult to pick out."

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

“Frell. FRELL.”

Dirka winced. What a blow to her pride! If she’d let Brielle hold the gun on him and talk him down he probably never would have knifed her. Now she was left injured and with the egg all over her face. The Watch arrived soon, however, with the med team coming to tend to Dirka while some of the others began a preliminary search around the scene. The Beggars had woken and were being interviewed as they tried to glean a name and face out of anyone.

Justice would prevail.