Utterly Mad

Pitiful. Absolutely disgraceful. These men-no, these boys, really thought they'd stand a chance? Hopefully they'd begin to see the errors of their ways. That is, if they lived long enough to see them.

As the final thug erroneously gives the bulkhead a good thrashing with his unprotected knuckles, Locke steps forward, lifting his heavy right leg up high into the air, and brings it down hard, the bottom of his boot aimed directly at the goon's left kneecap. The kneecap's a comparatively sensitive, fragile joint when pitted against a speeding downwards stomp, and if it hits squarely enough, it should snap the thug's leg like a twig.

Locke

As you stomp on the side of the man's knee, it does indeed snap with a sickly sound somewhat reminiscent of a nut's shell being stepped on. He screams as a sliver of bone appears from the side of his leg, almost as if by magic.

---

Camille

You pull the man towards you, interrupting his next blow, and your revolver connects with his face in a satisfying crunch. He wobbles backwards, before stumbling and landing against the wall in a slump. Your tactical assessment of the other rating turns out to be correct - he rushes past you, but is met by the shocksticks of a group of security officers as they come around the corner.

The smoke has mostly cleared, sucked away by the ship's ventilation systems and dispersed somewhere in the bowls of it's life support system. At the other end of the hallway, several more officers step out of the lift, taking a moment to survey the scene in front of them before moving forward to check on their beaten and motionless companion.

---

The Bridge

Roland steps out of the lift and on to the bridge just in time to hear a page come across the comms from one of the lower decks.

"Captain, this is security control. We... well, rather, your officers and the Chief got everything under control. We've got one dead sec officer down here, and a couple of the ratings bought it in the fight. Two more aren't gonna last long, and we're gonna need the Surgeon if we're gonna bother to patch the rest up." The comm crackles as he speaks, and you can hear screaming in the background. "SHUT HIM UP! Sorry sir. Usually the previous Captain would leave justice to the Chief, but anyone down here who can still talk blame a couple of the men you brought with you for the fight. Haven't talked to them yet, but seems just as likely the only thing they did wrong was walk into the wrong bar. I can't find anyone NOT involved to confirm either side's story. Thought you might want to know."

Walking slowly Roland said "Well, sounds like more funerals. Back where I'm from those boys would be running for the nearest UTA controlled city for fear the family members would come after them. Granted these boys you brought with you don't look like the running type."

Roland moved so as that he and the captain could easily converse and continued "But I don't think that will be any concern of mine, for very long anyway. I figure me and you need to talk about something Captain."

Locke leans forward from his stomp straight into a forward drive with his right fist, catching the man hard in his cheekbone and sending him flat on his back with a resounding crack. (I'm gonna assume such an action would be trivial, what with how fucked up that guy was.)

"AHA###HA#!" His laughing burst forth with that rather unpleasant, microphone-feedback esque undertone, as he turns from the freshly fallen man to the others, spitting on the leader scornfully. "And stAy d#wn, sWIne." He mutters, gesturing to his young sidekick. "C#ff thEm, if you w#uld."

"Mmm mmm, yes yes I do believe. Oh a quick aside though: If you do end up deciding to leave, do you have a preference on the kind of planet you end up on? May I perhaps suggest Barnard's Star or something fun like a pleasure world?" Mark said as he quietly began to spin in his chair.