Shin'ichi Kokuro's Story

The Prince ran his hand along the wall as he approached. "You speak our language well, I see the Shogunate has been kind to your people." The Prince said.

He looked around the chamber, and then he offered the other man a soft and assuring smile. "My people have a saying." He said in Taiyou. Then he turned to the Dragon, and then back to Shin'ichi. "My people have a saying, well, my mother's people... 'Din două rele s-alegi pe cea mai mică.' It means... If you are forced to choose between two options, both of which are undesirable, all you can do is choose the one that is less undesirable than the other." He said.

"I understand you may have reservations about this Alliance, but certainly it is better than the alternative."

"The Taiyou Shogunate has had little to do with my people," Shin'ichi corrected. "It was my own decision to learn your tongue."

Though there had been no hostilities between the Losenyu and the Taiyou shogunate, neither were they as closely affiliated as the Volarians were.

"And what is that alternative?" Shin'ichi asked.

He couldn't help but wonder if Shimizu's words held a veiled threat.

"Your own decision to learn our tongue? I find Taiyou is a very complex and difficult language, I am not a native speaker myself." He said, clasping his hands behind his back.

"You see, I was raised on Langara, where I studied until I was old enough to take the duties of the Taiyou throne. My mother did not have much faith in Taiyou education." Shimizu explained.

"Sometimes there comes a time where one must make a choice." The Prince added. "Had you chose not to go with either the AXIS or the TNG, your nation would inevitably have to choose to align with one or the other, or a third party nation or face destruction. I assure you our proposition was... what was best for your nation."

"Will that be all?" Shin'ichi asked.

The Losenyu prince didn't much care for the Taiyou man, and something about him just rubbed Shin'ichi the wrong way. An instinctive unease that left him less than comfortable with Shimizu's presence here.

His unease didn't reach his voice though, and he seemed at ease despite the internal distrust. Working the brush over the dragon's scales was a good distraction behind which to maintain a facade of calm introvertedness.

Shimizu scowled. "I believe so... Oh and..."

He turned and started to walk away, before he paused to turn back to the other.

"Do be careful, Terra is a very dangerous place I hear." He inclined his head respectfully. "There are some things that reservations cannot stop, Change is one of them. If you have any concerns, Do not hesitate to contact me." The Prince said as he turned to leave, but something seemed different, the look one person gives another when they intend to kill them. The thousand yard stare, a gaze Shin'ichi would likely find painted on Shimizu's face before he turned to leave, stopping by one of his trusted advisors.

"Omoară-l, să-l discret."

Am înțeles, prințul meu. The Advisor responded, then gave Shin'ichi a similar look.

Shin'ichi slid down from the shoulders of Tamotsu as the pair passed through the entrance of Wing City and he pat the dragon's scaly black hide reassuringly at the strange sounds and smells that they were met with. Wing City was a very different place than Losenji, but the gentle Tamotsu seemed to take it in stride.

"Come, old friend," Shin'ichi told the dragon as they made their way down the street.

Save for a few curious glances, the pair drew little attention. In a city of this nature, it was easy to blend regardless of ones appearance, nationality, or species in the case of Shin'ichi's sinuous companion.

He didn't intend to be here long though. No longer than was necessary to arrange transportation for Tamotsu to get the pair of them off Terra anyways. Unfortunately that was proving easier said than done as there seemed to be a shortage of captains willing to transport a dragon aboard their ships. After coming up empty handed in Volaria he had sought out Wing City - a location notorious for people unperturbed by dangerous prospects and who were willing to ask few questions for the right price.

The Prince had relayed the order, and Shin'ichi had been tracked to a very conspicuous place that as Wing City. As he moved through the main entrance, an Adjacent apartment lit up with radio communication.

"Hyōteki wa ichi ni aru."

"Wakarimashita." The Imperial Warrior responded, before he creaked the window to the apartment open just enough to slide the muzzle of the Aschen Type 34 Focus Rifle, a long range beam rifle out the window itself. Obscured by potted plants and a fluttering tarp, the Warrior adjusted his scope and checked the charge on the microfusion cell.

"Mokugeki jōhō ga yoidesu." The Spotter added, while the Gunner lined up the digital scope and the small cross-hair on Shin'ichi's torso. A Good center mass shot. As how the warriors were trained.

He disengaged the safety, and slid the arm lever forward, and the weapon began to power up, while he lined up the shot.

His heart began to beat slowly, and in between beats the Taiyou pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed through the city, an audible 'Pop!' echoed across the city streets, immediately following could be described as a deafening crack, and A brilliant searing streak of purple light, accompanied by a blinding flash. The precision Aschen weapon would cause immense pain, and serious damage, but the chance of survival was often quite high as the blood vessels were instantly cauterized. However immediately around the impact, should the bolt hit would be severely burned.

The Losenji prince fell to the street beneath the blinding flash of light, and a brief flash of searing pain before sinking darkness met concrete. Tamotsu reacted swiftly in response to the fallen man, but neither did he seem to know from where the danger came. Startled bystanders and pedestrians stopped to gawk, which only further riled the creature. He coiled protectively around the fallen form of Shin'ichi and hovered overtop of him while all but daring anyone to step closer with his gaze.

None seemed inclined to try and intervene personally though; after all, whoever had shot the man was still there somewhere. Several of the bystanders were scattering up and down the street, or slipping into the nearest building to get off the street, but others remained to linger and snap pictures with their phones of the dragon and the fallen man whose torso had been charred and blackened by third-degree burns.

A few of the more helpful bystanders were calling the WCPD, and the local hospital.

With the confirmed hit, the pair of Imperial Warriors grabbed the large and cumbersome Aschen beam rifle before they started quickly down the stairs. They would need to dispose of the weapon and quickly. Moving down several flights of stairs, they reached the bottom and the back door of the seedy apartment complex, and ultimately into a back alley.

"Soko! Soko ni gomibako!!" He shouted, before the Warrior tossed the rifle into a nearby dumpster, before the pair split up and moved through the alleyways and into the sewers.

Officer Johnson was just turning onto Main Street in his vehicle when the bright beam of light cut across the road ahead and fell the man in the street. He wasn't strictly on duty at the moment, but he had his side-arm with him, and his radio.

With a muttered curse he grabbed the radio up long enough to call in the shooting and to get an ambulance en route before he got out of his vehicle and made for the building where he had thought he had seen the flash of light originate from. He moved at a low jog with his firearm in both hands, but the ground floor of the building appeared to be empty.

A step inside and a scan of the room with his gun turned up nothing save for the backdoor that was standing ajar. The shooter had likely either gone out the back, or was still upstairs. Either way pressing on in either direction without backup would be foolish. Save for a quick glance out the ajar door to get a look into the alley out back he opted instead for holding his position until more officers arrived.

A black van sped towards the scene of the incident, a few WCPD squad cars ahead of it with their sirens effectively clearing the streets. "Chemo, Mulan, you're with me. The rest of you assist the cops and NPA if they arrive. Keep a path cleared for ambulance to move, okay?" Taco ordered as the van slowed to a stop.

"Everyone back up!" A police officer shouted, he and the others trying to put some distance between the downed man and the apathetic denizens of Wing City. "Find Johnson, help him out." The officer ordered, apparently being one of the more senior officers on the street.

The Invictus soldiers climbed out of their van, Taco, Chemo, and an Asian soldier, Mulan, trying to rush towards Shin'ichi as soon as their boots hit the concrete. "Any idea who this is?" Chemo asked the other soldiers, "Beats me." Mulan answered.

As the arriving WCPD officers joined Johnson at the floor level of the apartment complex, it took only a moment for him to bring them up to speed. Fanning out, the officers made short work of searching the building - but there was no sign of the shooter still on the premise.

Once the area was deemed clear, further investigations of the scene could begin.

While the building was being searched the situation down in the street was still tenuous as Tamotso seemed uncooperative to allowing anyone near Shin'ichi - medic or otherwise. The serpentine dragon coiled and hissed menacingly at the Invictus soldiers that sought to approach, and the ripple of coiled muscles beneath his thickly scaled hide warned of the poised tension within the animal.

"Hey, hey, easy." Taco said to the dragon, carefully removing his weapons from his person and placing them on the ground. "I'm here to help. You want him to live, don't you?" Taco asked the dragon, taking slow steps forward.

"Let us help." He said, staring the dragon down. Practically pleading to be allowed to do his job and save a man's life. The longer they weren't helping him the more his chances of infection increased.

Not considering anything that Wing City would bring about. Like cyborg fire ants.

Tamotsu was unrelenting as he hissed at Taco. His coiled form served to shield Shin'ichi from further harm, but did little to permit medical care for the wounded man. Taco's slow movements seemed to be helping to not provoke the animal into an outright act of hostility though.

All around people were continuing to gawk, and the crowds were making the beast uneasy. There were people everywhere, and cameras were flashing as pictures were taken.

"We need everyone to leave. Right now." Chemo said loudly, "That means you should go home or back off!" He shouted, gesturing for the Invictus soldiers to assist any police officers in clearing the people out. "You don't have to go home, but you have to get the fuck out of here, as they say." Chemo continued, joining in to herd the masses away from the scene.

"You need to let me help him. He could die otherwise." Taco said to the dragon, the wail of ambulance sirens growing near.

"He will die if you don't let me help." Taco said, "Please?" He pleaded, continuing to face down the dragon. But, he didn't do it with hostility. Taco was genuinely concerned for the man.

The gathered crowds seemed reluctant but after some heavy encouragement and herding they were beginning to disperse.

Tamotsu couldn't understand a word Taco was saying, but it understood the nature of people to some extent. With the crowds being driven off, the animal lowered its head and flattened its body against the street - though still half-coiled protectively about Shin'ichi. Its watchful eyes never left Taco, fully ready to react should Taco so much as move one finger wrong.

Daniel Johnson had made his way to the burn ward in the Wing City Hospital where a doctor was currently updating him on the condition of last night's shooting victim whom they had since identified as Shin'ichi Kokuro, a Losenyu prince. They hadn't the faintest idea what he was doing in Wing City when the shooting occurred, but he had yet to regain consciousness to be questioned on the matter, and his prognosis didn't seem favorable.

"He's still critical," the doctor explained. "He went into cardiac arrest last night, and slipped into a coma. I'll be straight with you, his odds of recovery aren't good."

Johnson rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed. They wouldn't get much out of a man in a coma and certainly not much out of him if he died.

"Don't you have people that can heal this sort of stuff? You know, with magic?" Johnson asked.

The doctor shook his head. "In his condition he wouldn't survive the strain it would put on his body. He's going to need to pull through this one on his own."

"Alright, give us a call if his condition changes or if he wakes up."

Johnson shook his head to himself as he headed back out. Losenyu royalty getting gunned down in their streets wouldn't bode well with diplomatic relations he imagined. He didn't much envy the one who would need to contact them about this.