Adam Ruin's Story

Opening the basement door and shutting it behind him, Adam Ruin shifted the white cloak that hung around his neck from around his arm, striding to lean against the bar. Laying a massive hand on the wood, he rather relished the creak it gave as he settled weight against it, raking the crowd with a withering glare. From his sheer size and build, it was nearly impossible to mistake, given his watchful gaze, that security had just arrived.

The Fallen might have stood without a weapon in front of this crowd, but one wasn't needed when a punch from him could send a car through a wall. For now, however, the man merely watched the crowd, scowling deeply at the man who's hand hovered all to readily near his gun,, shaking his head slowly in a firm negative should he glance over.

"I'm not keen on apprehending nobody, at least. Not here." He said, downing another drink. "Divine Shadow's made it clear that Gambit's is off limits for anyone not on R and R, or there to simply enjoy a drink." He said, chuckling.

"The same can't be said for the LDA kill-team parked outside the bar ready to put a charged particle beam through your skull." He said, swishing the emerald green liquid in his glass, offering a nod to the Gambit's Security.

"But I'd wager so long as you're here. You're safe. Once you're out there though, in Wing City, all bets are off. Fortunately for you, cashing in bounties isn't part of my job description." Magus added.

He then turned to Storm Shadow. "This isn't your fight, I'd stay out of it if I were you... for your own personal safety."

Despite being quiet throughout the time spent at the bar, Gabrielle saw and heard almost everything. She shifted her position in order to snatch a glass off the counter, filling it with Mountain Dew. Leaning back once the glass was full, she continued to watch and listen to the scene unfolding. She was fairly certain that things were about to get nasty, but it seemed that happened occasionally or perhaps quite often in Gambit’s. But, that was what hired security was for. Almost as if he could hear her thoughts, one of the Judicarius staff made his way upstairs and after glancing briefly to see who it was, she noted that it was Adam and relaxed almost immediately. She figured he could handle anything and as long as she wasn’t shot at or attacked personally, she was going to keep on sitting exactly where she was at that moment.

Her gaze briefly moved over towards the Aschen, her lip raising in a slight snarl at the mention of the Divine Shadow, though she didn’t utter a sound. At least he was keeping up his part of the bargain, which meant she would do that same. Taking a sip of her Dew, she went back to watching everyone, her fingers idly tapping the counter every once in a while. It seemed calm… almost eerily calm. Her nose scrunched up and she vaguely thought about moving a hand down to where her cards were kept, but decided that wasn’t a wise move, especially after what had happened previously.

“How ‘bout we just drink some more and forget about fighting? One round of drinks on the house.”

Tenna nodded his thanks to Chromchaser, but the words he spoke were probably something unwanted. "As much as I'd like to join ya, it'd tie me down too much for my own liking. Though, assuming everyone makes it outta here safely tonight, I might be in contact sometime in the near future, shiny?"

He didn't wait long for a response, his attention returning more importantly to Claire and the Commander. They hadn't been expressly polite so far, but they hadn't been themselves as going against his choices, either. They'd just been, well, there. And not something he enjoyed.

"Now hold a moment, I thought I'd left the shit-digging back when I ditched out of UCON SpecOps. You tellin' me that the goldmine I've found my life to be is shit? Seems like a pretty good place to be, what with how well off I've gotten to become." He chuckled, then took another swig from the flask he pulled off the back of his left shoulder. As another individual droplet of fire-centered, midnight blue limned liquid rolled from the spout of the flask down its side, he capped it and stored it once more.

"That's a blessing, Commander Magus, but I'm wondering when you all got fed up enough with me to just take me dead. I thought the notion was to capture me, and interrogate all the codes for access to UCON defense systems out of my head before retraining me to be an exemplary spy or pilot for your own cause. Or was that just a rumor?" With a flick of his gaze, he took in the impressive sight that marked the security force of the bar. Although he always liked a challenge, this one would have been too much for, he suspected, the entirety of those in the bar to go against, even if they worked together.

"Even if it is, I wouldn't count me dead so quickly. I'm a fair shot and decent enough pilot, but you corner me and I'll find a way to get out, Promise. Now, I take it you're here simply to take some leave? Maybe visit some family or friends. Or are you lookin' to chat up some of the more dicey females here in the city? Last I heard, Aschen boys had a things for the girl's who've been used so many times they can't even feel anything, so the fake it all."

Kuyden listened to the banter between sailors, he found it odd. He looked out side, saw no killsquads or anything, and then rememvered, he came in by way of the Spaceport. So all he saw was the front end of his ship staring him in the face through the window. Ah yes. That's my girl He thought.

At the mention of a round ofdrinks on the house, Kuyden held up a hand "I'll drink to that!" He said simply and loudly, also quite clearly too. Yes, he could definetly drink to that!

To Tenna Kuyden smiled and raised his drink in a toast, "Shiny indeed!" Was all he said.

Storm-Shadow looked at the security that came from the basement, then looked at everyone else, particularly Bryn Magus since he addressed him in particular. "I have to leave anyway. Not because of my own personal safety, though. He said, slowly standing up. He didn't like the tenseness of the situation one bit, and though he would have liked to stay in order to make sure it ended okay, he simply couldn't. He was being called in by his employer for an important mission.

With that, the Ereb Alpha Trooper turned around and entered the shadows, disappearing within them as they rippled.

The Wyvern also got up and left, leaving Mikkelson alone at the bar. He left money to pay for the coke he had ordered when he first entered, but aside from that, he left.

"Depends on what you consider shit, especially since you've managed to work up such a large bounty." Claire pointed out setting her drink back down onto the bar. "I really do wonder who you pissed off to get a bounty of roughly 45k cubits on your head, I mean it's not easy." She said, the words sounding strange with her off world accent that wasn't even close to the norm for most Aschen. However, she spoke Common or Main well enough to be understood, but it was obvious she tended to conduct business and personal affairs in another language.

Eyeing Magus she just scowled, "You have no such things waiting outside, and to do so would incite a war which I think all of us are more than aware of Commander." She said slowly, never having particularly liked the Aschen or their Divine Shadow to begin with, that was a story for another time however.

Noting the bar security, she kept mostly to herself, only trading words with other patrons for now.

Magus shrugged. "I don't know, maybe there are, maybe there arent. I don't remember the Divine Shadow ever really caring about starting a war." Magus said, taking out a cigar and lighting it. "In any event, I've got places to be.. you stay Frosty Tenna, it's suck if your ship found itself on the business end of a Singularity cannon." He added, getting to his feet.

Tenna watched at the Commander exited, glad that he didn't need to use his sidearm at any point. Just a year ago and he would've felt like he'd done something wrong by not putting a round into someone. Today, he just felt like it would be alright. His attention shifted to Claire when the man was gone.

"How did you know he was bluffing about the kill-crew? You Aschen yourself?" Tenna had never really bothered to learn the various racial accents, he usually worked on how a person acted towards him. While some might initially think he had something against one race of another, in the overall scheme of things, he really couldn't care less, so long as he got paid.

"Technically, yes and technically no. It's complicated." Claire replied making a face at Tenna's question. "I knew he was bluffing because if he did something that stupid in here it would start one of the biggest shit storms since... well they were a confederation and raiding this place with regularity, and I don't mean their brief flirtation with the idea of one either." She added.

"Magus like most Aschen commanders is a blow hard, and can be all bark with no bite on some matters. He can't control an LDA "kill-crew", at least not since the last I knew."

"Go fuck yerself, ya fuckin' prick." Kraggen brought his arms up in a ready posture fitting a brawler, though the rage blunted at the chorus of screams. There was the ultimatum however. To save these souls, from the words of the demon himself, he needed to make a deal. But making a deal could prevent him from keeping even more safe.

If he could even trust the word of Mammon, that is. Indecision warred within himself, measuring the costs and duties he possessed and would pay. Finally, after several moments, he made his choice, opening his mouth to speak as he drew back a fist.

---

"Piss off, brother."

The words drew the chief of police to whirl, surprise turning to a gaping stare as he viewed the speaker, for even among sights in Wing City, one such as what greeted him was rare indeed.

Striding forward, his height reaching seven feet with ease, the pale skinned figure held an expressionless face, features nearly chiseled from stone. Bare chested, a white cloak hanging from his shoulders like a mantle, the awing sight was the blade in his hand, the monstrously massive sword simply boggling in scale. It's handle was the length of a spear's shaft, the blade itself stretching for nearly twenty feet beyond that, straight edged but for a section of curved recessions along the blade. In its entire, the weapon was hued of freshly welled heart's blood.

Adam Ruin rolled his shoulders, the stubs of wings hacked clean rubbing against the cloth at his back, the unmistakable sign of his status as a Fallen. Gray eyes caught the possessed with an indifferent glance, focusing instead on the demon prince. "Never enough, you greedy bastard. It's time someone slapped your hand."

Zach Grimm nearly snarled aloud as the fool walked over to, what Zach had already mentally tagged, threat 1. As it was, daggers were glared at Randin's back. Sensitive hearing picked up the door creaking open once more, the scents of the new arrival cluing the dragonbinder in to the fact his backup had arrived. He didn't need to turn his head to view the towering face of Adam Ruin, the Fallen's flat gray eyes glancing at first his comrade, then the cop and the Taiyou.

Zach jerked his head behind the bar, Adam merely nodded, striding over and holding out on large hand.

Emerald claws dipped below the counter before reappearing, lifting a pair of sawn off, overlarge bearclaw shotguns from behind the counter, placing the grips in his hand. Grasping and shifting one of the weapons to his other hand, the Fallen regarded them for a brief moment, noting the intricate patterning on each of the guns' twin barrels. No normal weapons, what he held in hand. Capable of firing shells, of course, but these were of Jegun's special collection. Soul charge guns.

A fair sized case of shells followed, Adam merely clipping a fast release clip to his belt. Shifting to flank Aeka on the other side, he rumbled to Zach. "Ready when you are."

"Dipshit over there seems to want to die."

"Everything will be handled by the appropriate channels in due time." The Major said, tapping her fingers on the table.

"Hand the girl over and we can forget this whole thing ever happened, and you can go back to living your life." Motoko said, frowning. "She's not worth your life, your career, and certainly not worth the bystanders that are endangered by your actions." Motoko added. Though she had been paying attention to Randin, occasionally her eyes would drift over to the Princess, and the Bar staff as they prepared for whatever was coming their way.

"Chief, if this goes hot I'd recommend a heavy loadout. Umibozu is going to have their hands full."

"They're bringing in Anti-Tank weapons and Type 303 Exoskeletons, they'll be set up and on station in five minutes. That's how long you have before I pull you out." The Male voice replied in the woman's head.

"You've got five minutes to make a decision, Kaye, and then I can't promise that you'll survive what's to come." Motoko warned. Still making no outright hostile moves.

"What, are you waiting for an answer?" Randin almost looked amused. "It's no, Kusanagi. You had to have known that." He leaned forward, his voice lowering. "What are you stalling for? If you're really here on orders to procure the princess then you wouldn't be wasting small talk on me for old time's sake. You don't have the upper hand." He smirked. "...not yet anyway. Waiting for a tank to roll in? Yuriko, perhaps?" He shook his head, sparing another glance at Aeka. His warm, assuring facade held.

He looked back at Kusanagi, his grim features faintly reflected in her sunglasses. Slowly, unthreateningly, one of Randin's hands went below the table. He fiddled with his belt before procuring his Dragon Fang, barrel down, and placed it calmly on the table. It was his only firearm.

"We can work this out," Randin nodded, "there are ways out of this. I can take the fall - tell them I hid the princess." He leaned forward and looked seriously at her. "You just have to let her go. That's it. Tell them I stowed her away somewhere before you arrived or that she escape in the pursuit." He nodded towards the weapon, sitting dormant on the wood. A gesture of good-will. "You can have me, Major. He can have me. Let'em do his worst." He nodded gruffly. "Just let her go."

A cloaked figure quietly entered the bar. Not much could be seen of the individual, save the delicate pale fingertips peeking out from the baggy sleeves of her dark brown sweatshirt. Dirty, black boot-cut jeans and an old pair of brown hiking boots covered the rest of her figure. Not very many of the ... interesting characters took notice, but the few who did would never have known whether or not she was a man or woman, let alone why she was there. Most probably didn't even care.

As she sat down at the bar, her black cloak, which seemed to be lined with grey feathers, lifted a mere inch off the dusty floor. The bartender approached, but the stranger spoke first. "Your cheapest beer, sir," she said in a raspy voice, barely loud enough to be heard. When it was brought to her, she gave him a fifty with her left hand and told him, "Keep the change and don't talk to me. I'll signal for you should I require something else." It was cold, but the life she had suffered had made her that way.

She turned only slightly in her seat, simply to keep an eye on the traffic entering and exiting the tavern. She had made it this far ... she only hoped she could keep it that way.

The Major gave Randin a sidelong face, and then she offered a warm smile. Perhaps she was going to agree to him, perhaps he and the Princess would be able to escape without harm.

"You and I both know this isn't how it's going to go down." She said, eyeing the newcomer in the bar.

"We can walk out of this and no one has to get hurt, you just have to hand over the girl." She said, making a face as the messages went in and out of her mind.

Her highly reflective glasses hid her gaze, it was fixed on the pistol, and then back up to Randin. But her facial expression remained unchanged.

"You just have to trust me."

Questions swirled around Randin's head as he grappled with the reality of the situation. He considered the facts - he was pinned down in one of the seediest underground taverns in Wing City. His only route of escape was miles away and Shimizu's men would be on him in less than a minute. While the tight security at Penance might be able to ward off the assault, there was still no garauntee that he and Aeka would emerge unscathed - or the patrons for that matter. Innocent lives were at stake.

Furthmore was the matter of Kusanagi herself. Why had they sent her? Why had they sent her alone? Why had she come in quietly and discretely? Surely not to scout the situation out - they had to have known about her relationship with Randin. They never would have used her as a spy - he would recognize her anywhere. Had she come of her own accord? Impossible. Motoko was a damn good cop but an even finer soldier - she never acted alone. She was under orders. Orders from Shimizu? Unlikely, the Prince's influence never extended into Section Nine. More than likely she was here on behalf of Aramaki... but Randin wasn't entirely sure if he trusted the benevolence of the Prime Minister anymore than he trusted Shimizu's.

Trust. That's what this all came down to. Did Randin trust Motoko? Did he trust her more than he trusted himself to see Aeka through this safely?

He made a passing glance at Genevieve as she entered the bar, his eyes low and furious. Not another patron. The last thing he needed was more innocent lives caught in the crossfire. He wondered if he shouldn't just get up and order everyone out of the tavern.

"You want me to trust you, Major?" Randin replied, "then gimme' a reason to. You let me and Aeka walk out of this bar and I'll contact you. Work with you." He shook his head. "But I'm not handing her over to you here. There's too many variables. Too many questions. Aeka and I are leaving this place one way or another. If you want me to work with you in getting her safety, then you'll help us do that."

Genevieve watched what appeared to be a very tense exchange. She wasn't very good at reading lips, but she could tell if something didn't change soon, several of the patrons were going to be harmed. She observed her surroundings quietly, meticulously, all the while sipping her drink as though she was none-the-wiser. She had seen them all look to the painted skull on the wall, but why? A secret door, maybe?

She kept herself still and, hopefully, out of danger. She couldn't risk getting involved and bringing attention to herself. However, should any of the patrons get hurt, she could help them escape and get some medical attention. She held her beer close, so as to cause a diversion if need be.

"Damn wrong bar again i swear they've changed the roads since i've been gone" The Last thought to himself unwilling to admit that even for being a somewhat immortal being he's terrible with directions. However one thing he is very good at is analyzing the situation around him, and at that second he felt something was up in a major way looking over he saw them a man and girl.....no cyborg too still. "Well i picked a heck of a bar too walk into, might as well have a drink" hand lightly on sword he sits down on a stool and orders a scotch noticing the other players involved just trying to figure it out seeing the young girl and the others. "Hmmmm lets see who moves first then we'll see what happens".

Outside the Penance Tavern...


"All teams in position." A voice cracked quietly over the radio as roughly a dozen men hidden within thermoptical camouflage began to position themselves around the front of the Tavern. They had been nearly perfectly concealed, with the darkness of the Undermarket and their own thermoptical camouflage systems.

Rifles were leveled on the tavern, while the pair of Type 303 powered suits crouched low behind a pile of garbage. Each of them readied their 20mm autocannons, which were cradled in their large slave arms. The Type 303 was a versatile unit, carrying a large rifle rather than an integrated weapons platform.

"On my mark."

----

Inside the bar the Major frowned. "If you walk out this bar you'll die." She said flatly.

"I cant give you a reason to trust me, You just have to tru--" The Major stopped a moment, she didn't shift her gaze or anything, rather she abruptly stood up and shouted.

"Get down!"

As she turned towards the door, both Type 303s opened fire, their autocannons sending 20x102mm rounds tearing through the walls of the building. Each bullet was massive, carrying immense kinetic energy. Needless to say anyone struck by these rounds would be torn apart by the mass of the shell and the kinetic energy it was carrying.

The thundering of the Exoskeleton's guns continued as bullets careened through the bar, shredding furniture, patrons, and the Major.

The first round struck her torso, blowing her clean in half, the second splattered the contents of her skull all over the wall, before shredding it too.

The third and fourth blew through her arms, shredding the armored body to pieces and sending fragments of metal, and cyborg innards in all directions.

Randin, unless he took immediate action would meet the same fate. Aeka had dove to the floor, wooden cylinders forming in a staggered formation around her body, the 20mm shells cracking against a powerful forcefield, with each hit, a wooden cylinder was blown apart as the girl's subconscious shield began to fail.

The sustained fire lasted roughly twenty seconds, before the Umibozu Soldiers quickly consolidated their position, and stacked up to make entry on the bar.