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Snippet #2678005

located in The Wasteland, a part of The Age of Gifted, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Wasteland

An apocalyptic landscape, most of it is covered by ash, earning the nickname "The Ashland"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Eugene Melberg Character Portrait: Rick Ronin
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"Y-yes sir." Saff stammered out, her back pressed against the wall of the building.

Do not engage.

She wasn't supposed to go in and deal with this criminal.

But she couldn't go running away. Even if it didn't interfere with extraction, anyone running about and panicking might let on that erubescan command knew about the threat. The terrorist might start killing people. She had to try and keep it together until reinforcement arrived.

Blood pounded in Saffir's ears.

How could this be happening AGAIN? She'd only gone out to got some food. Now she was staring death in the face for a second time in as many weeks. Her hands were shaking and some of the litter at her feet started to pulse with infrasound...until with difficulty the knight reigned it in.

Once again fidgetting about with the communicator she started another call in, this time on ordinary channels.
"Mel? Mel are you there? It's Saff... I'm in west district and and..." Saff's voice trembled as she took a deep breath. SHe continued, whispering, even though she could find no-one remotely in earshot.
"There's a t-terrorist in the building here. The man who set the whole base on fire. I just c-called it in...I'm waiting for Citadel response..I...I.. " S
he broke off. She had no idea what to say about it. She wasn't sure how any of this was about to pan out. Frankly, she was terrified. Even if she wasn't potentially in direct firing line as military personnel, the collateral damage Ronin caused was enough to mean her life was at risk. She half expected the building to cave in on itself or be engulfed in flames at any moment. The Knight was filled with an acute awareness that this could be her last call to...anybody, and felt a little ashamed that she had nothing more profound to say that a halting retelling and stammering.

Movies had undoubtedly lied about the concept that there was any honour in death.