Log:Sith Empire: Red in Tooth

Sith Empire: Red in Tooth

OOC Date: September 23, 2021
Location: Ring of Kafrene
Participants: Sith Empire: Anlace, Xavier Harcourt, Tamsin Cas, ST-K7020, Tarq Najjic, Imani, and Darth Ferren

The Ring of Kafrene is hardly an inviting place: a giant space station originally intended as a mining colony, the durasteel constructs that form its central structure are bored deep into a pair of planetoids. From space, it's easy to envision the station beng crushed between them on a gravitic whim. The layout of the streets changes almost daily, as the impoverished inhabitants shift their shacks of sheet metal from place to place. All in all, it is an easy place to get lost in.

"Rumor has it and intelligence reports have confirmed that a local gang here on the Ring has rapidly begun expanding their dominance of the criminal circuits," Darth Ferren, a tall man clad in black with a heavy cape hanging behind him, explains to the others as he leads them through a winding maze of cramped, crooked alleyways. He sniffs at the air, expression twisting into something disdainful. "Which is all of the circuits in a place like this. This gang calls themselves the Invisible Hand, and they have something the others don't. Have you guessed what it is?"

Stopping, he turns to face the others, sharp eyes moving over the small group. "This is your first time as a unit, backing me." The former Knights of Ren in particular receive his attention. "Once we find them, if you hesitate, I will not. And neither will my troopers." K7 and Anlace receive affirming glances. "We are here to bring another into the fold. I would prefer to add another to the sum, not to fill a fresh vacancy."

ST-A1025, 'Anlace' is the scout trooper on point in crimson armor of gammaplast. Carrying her weapon at an alert, the trooper pauses when the Sith Lord turns to regard his retainer. Anlace pauses, too, selflessly putting herself in the orientation of the Lord's back, to intercept harm should it come his way. She is just far enough ahead to be on point, but not so far as to make the gesture he uses to regard herself and K7 awkward. The trooper remains reverent and silent, completely devoted to seeking out threats and alerting her team.

Hood drawn up over his head, Xavier follows quietly through the desolate alleyways of the Ring. Dark robes float briefly in his wake as boots fall lightly, lazily on the filthy streets. He's not yet bothered to ask why they are here nor does he seem inclined to anytime soon. Which is all well and good because the explanation is being offered rather readily. Off to a good start.

Pulling a glove tighter onto his hand, the cowl turns to the side to regard a few a of the local downtrodden circled around one of the fire barrels for warmth. One glances Xavier's way then quickly decides that staring at an open flame is far safer. Xavier just sighs gently to himself and carries on his uninterrupted stride.

The stride is interrupted. The gall. Xavier stops as Ferren addresses them more directly. He doesn't answer a confirmation to the orders; instead reaching into his robes to bring out his Dagger. With a click, the safety is off and he offers a slight, if knowing nod to the two Troopers present. Always good to make friends.

Tamsin Cas was indeed one of those Knights, excuse me, former Knights, who received an extra hard look from the Darth. But her own expression was unseen, as she had dressed herself as she always had. Her robes, and that faceless mask, the helmet hidden beneath the hood. Gloves hands were held ready at her side, with only a simple movement to claim the saber's hilt that had been clipped to her belt. She did, however, speak, her normally measured tones made harsh by the vocorder, "Only the one we seek? The rest are expendable?" It did not hurt to be entirely certain, when working with a new unit.

ST-K7020 moves through the corridor behind and adjacent to the Sith trooper on point. With medical training comes a certain understanding: K7020 will never be the first one through the door. That falls to the trooper with the scout training. They move in tandem, and K7's blaster rifle is raised so the stock fits against the corrugated body glove over her right shoulder between the red gammaplast shoulder plate and the armor fit around her torso. The low light of the station is not a hindrance for the trooper. Through the black lenses of her helmet, that light is amplified. Internal systems constantly track for the slightest sign of blaster fire in their direction, but so far there has been none. While ST-A1025's barrel remains trained forward, K7020's ensures fire to the immediate and angled right is covered. As always, the telemetry pod on her right shoulder generates a constant feed to the Harbinger and command linked into their helmets.

"This - is /not/ - Tarq Najjic's first guerlara ride." The voice is a smooth tenor with a Core Worlds accent disrupted by a distinct halting rhythm. It belongs to a man with a gymnast's build, raised, carefully-manicured eyebrows, and eyes shadowed by kohl. Under six feet tall but carrying himself like he's nine, there's a swish to his gait. His velvet caped settles back around him when he stops to listen to Darth Ferren. He looks from ST-K7020 to Anlace, staring for a moment at each, before giving the place a casual once-over. His right thumb is hooked behind his belt, near his ornate chromed lightsaber hilt.

Imani has neither a designation, nor does she have the bright crimson armor that marks her as a sith. Her armor is pretty basic, her collection of weapons on her person range from close combat, to close combat. Which is to say, she's an in your face kinda gal. "Just let me know which one you don't want me to stab, and I won't stab them," she states in a cheerful tone of voice while pulling free a weapon to do said stabbing. "I don't have the hibbildy-bibbldy to pick that sort of thing up. Unless they make it obvious."

"Expendable is putting it generously, more likely the rest are pure obstacles," Darth Ferren replies to Tamsin, his voice dry. "But we will see how they respond. Even a cornered beast can surprise occasionally."

Turning back to the alleyway ahead, he continues on, his long stride carrying him quickly despite the unhurried pattern of his gait. It doesn't take long for the plan to become clear, as the alleyway narrows and two denizens of the underworld step out to block the path forward, two more stepping into the back to block an escape.

"You know where you are?" one of the thugs growls, a sizeable Defel that hulks forward towards the Sith Empire strikeforce. "You're on Invisible Hand territory. Give up your weapons, NOW, and we might just let you out of here."

"Troopers," Darth Ferren states coldly. "/Give them your weapons./" The flipped meaning is clear to anyone with a functioning sense of irony.

This doesn't seem to include the Barabel backing the Defel. "Ain't that Guavian Death Gang gear?"

When they move, Anlace stays on point until they are stopped by a pair of thugs from the front. Anlace didn't waste the team's time by calling out the obvious. Imperial doctrine dictated she wait till the order was given, or they displayed deadly intent.

The order is given.

<"It shall be done, my Lord."> Responds Anlace who levels her F-11D blaster rifle right at the taller Weequay thug's face. He opens his mouth to protest, but Anlace squeezes the trigger releasing a red bolt that impacts and emerges out the back of his large head. His body hasn't hit the ground before she's adjusting to engage the next, moving forward in an aggressive tactic: Violence of action. These thugs stopped the wrong party.

It's nearly by the book, these guys. Finding themselves surrounded in front and behind, Xavier sighs heavily. "Never with any originality." All he has is his trusty slugthrower which isn't all that trusty, really. Being a bit archaic at the best of times, both his shots go wide. But it serves as a nice little warning? Or a distraction. Let's call it a distraction.

Tamsin moved at an even pace with the group, no longer needing to offer any words, now that her question had been answered. That blank gaze shifted, now and then, settling on one member of the group and then another, before the group began the descent into darkness. And then, there it was. Interference, as there was always interference.

And then the firing began. The darkness was soon illuminated, as her saber ignited, and she moved to engage the largest and possibly most resistant of the thugs, her forward momentum sending her into the path of Xavier's blaster fire. Her body twisted aside, just enough to avoid the shot herself, though it gave the thug time to duck out of the strike of her blade. The first time. Not the second, as Tamsin spun in a half circle, the bright blade long enough to give her some room to work despite the near meter of height the creature had on her, slicing through the back of his neck before she moved towards the next closest target. Not close enough. Not to strike, but perhaps enough to make it disinclined to press his attack.

The two alien sentients that step out in their path speak the magic words. Threatening gestures are made, ultimatums are delivered, and an instruction from the Dark Lord of the Sith that leads this expedition and serves effectively as the highest rank of their commanding officers means this can only go down one way. While ST-A1025 unloads on the Weequay, K7020 snaps the barrel of her blaster rifle towards the Defel. Her gloved finger squeezes the trigger with disciplined ease. It's not a yank or a pull. It's that fine line between accidentally setting it off and intentionally tripping the weight requirement that makes the rifle bark. The loud discharge sounds within a second of the first, and while ST-A1025 blasts her target in the face, K7020 shoots hers in the lower torso. He wishes he was dead. He probably wishes he had chosen his words more wisely. He'll get to think about it before he perishes.

The Defel with the overwhelmingly poor decision to stand in front of a Sith Lord and ask that he surrender his weapons is also standing in front of ST-K7020 - and Tarq Najjic. When he takes the blaster shot to his midsection but is still standing and holding a weapon, the Kuati raises his left hand and flexes his fingers. The Defel slips up into the air. He twists his hand to face palm out, and the light-absorbing, muscular alien slams into the wall of the alley. Hand lowered, the body hits the ground, unmoving.

The red light extends from Tarq's lightsaber as he calmly unclips it from his belt and raises it to a one-handed guard position.

This didn't take long, and when the targets are in sight and they're told to give their weapons, Imani doesn't hesitate. She dives right into the fight, keeping clear of anything glowing and waving around as she closes in on the Klatooinian. It's not with the weapon she's accustomed to -- her favorite weapon by far -- but it'll do. The first stab hits, but she doesn't stop there, immediately going for a second attack that doesn't stab anything but the air. It had it coming though.

When the shooting starts, it's the Sith who shoot first, in the classic vein of all true heroes. Darth Ferren doesn't even pull his weapon at first, allowing his cadre of killers to answer the threats of violence with credible violence.

Seeing his companions mowed down like chaff to the thresher, the Klatooinian fires away at Tarq even as Imani stabs him, yelling "HE HAS THE INVISIBLE HAND!" as a warning or just in alarm.

Producing a lightsaber hilt and activating its red blade in the same movement, Ferren takes a few steps towards the thug and unceremoniously chops him down. The alleyway is now littered with corpses and a few dismembered body parts, but turning the next corner leads them into a slightly wider area with more Invisible Handers waiting.

"Don't know who you are, but we can't let you get to the boss," one of them, a Rodian, announces, in Rodian. It sounds like someone scatting through a kazoo.

They progress and are stopped again, this time they did not need authorization to engage. General orders established that any openly opposing their Dark Lord would know his wrath. Anlace rushes into the gang fearlessly, eager to spread the good word. It's conveyed by a loud discharge of blaster fire, her shot intending for a kill yet their movement made it a shoulder blow. They stumble away from the red gammaplast trooper named Anlace, who stands her ground and tracks with her rifle to fire again knowing her squadmate was close by to help.

And the threat is neutralized in the most expediant of fashions. "Well met," is said to no one. In the momentary stillness, Xavier perches a cig between his lips and lights it with a click. Just enough time -- a few seconds, maybe -- for more of the party to arrive. No words. No quips. Just two more shots of /distraction/ that pock the wall behind his target with a satisfying, conscussive BAM! BAM!

Ah, but a miss is a miss is a miss and as much as an old man loves his old toys, Xavier sighs gently to himself. "Alas." The safety goes back on and it seems he is preparing to change his mode of attack. Or at least strongly considering it.

As the first of the thugs fell, Tamsin began walking once again, casually stepping over bodies and body parts, paying them not the slightest mind, as she kept pace with the group. She did not have to wait long to see where the next bit of interference would come, and she moved for the presumed leader of the gang. You could often tell by the shouting and directing minions to attack so that they did not have to. Quick and graceful, Tamsin moved like a blaster bolt, making no attempt to avoid any attack that might come in her direction, as she cut down the rodian, spinning her blade to clear it from his descending corpse, before she moved towards the next closest target, a gran who was hopping and weaving to avoid her blade.

<"Set behind you. Advance."> Though she speaks, no sound comes from ST-K7020 into the immediate vicinity. The tongue toggle on the inside of her helmet is set to broadcast to the other nearby trooper, meaning their communication is silent to anyone not on their battle net. With ST-A1025 leading the way, K7020 steps over the faceless corpse of the Weequay and the disfigured, twisted limbs of the Defel whose bones had both been pulverized and snapped on impact against the wall of the station. Black soles tap a rhythmic, steady pace, and K7020 moves them just as far enough off the ground as she needs to before advancing. It's a useful tactic for not tripping over any of the garbage and litter strewn through the alleyway. More targets of opportunity present themselves.

The Wroonian gets double tapped. A1025 hits him first and K7020 punches another blaster bolt through his torso, leaving two smoking, cauterized wounds in the alien that simply crumples into a heap on the floor. Sparks register on the distant wall in time with the hammer snap of a slugthrower in the vicinity, marking the impact points of slugthrower rounds. A red lightsaber blade cuts down the Rodian before he has the ability to rethink his life choices, and then the Dug goes next. K7020 is already looking for the next target to settle her blaster rifle on, but the available choices are narrowing quickly. The Gran dies, too, wailing like his compatriots.

As Tamsin goes for the leader, Tarq charges with his blade held out backwards to the side. Then the Dug's gun is split in half while the same slice beheads him, and he pirouettes, the Gran gangster getting a precise stab through the middle of his chest, and then a broad swing that the Quarren has enough time to see coming and enough pattern recognition to stay away from. His lighsaber sounds like an angry insect swarm as he whirls it about, limbering up his wrist. "Are good shots," he observes of the Sith troopers. "Coordinated." There's a compliment in there.

"Remember, remind me who not to hurt," Imani says after they round the corner and find more soon to be corpses. "I'd like to make a good impression on my first outing with you all." It's a mostly cheerful remark that is likely meant as humor as she moves in at the Vurk. There's no screaming to not stab that one, so she doesn't hesitate to drive the tip of the sword into the chest of the Vurk, yanking back only to repeat the process again. It's hard work, but it's work she's good at. It's even work she might enjoy, especially for the right cause. This is definitely a good cause. Law & Order & Stabbing.

The Sith group is mowing throw this town's up-and-coming gang like a hot knife through an ice cube. One by one the lowlife scum of the underworld are cut down, or methodically executed by the Sith trooper tag team of Anlace and K7 as the pair work in perfect coordination. Darth Ferren continues on his businesslike walk forward, taking two passing swings at the Quarren left alive as he goes and leaving the aquatic sentient in two pieces.

At the end of the line, there's nowhere left to go; the alleyway is blocked off by the same sheets of steel many of the residents make their homes from, and the planetoid above them blocks out the light of the stars. There waiting in the dead end is a human female, one side of her scalp shaved, the rest of her hair a shock of black. At the appearance of these interlopers, she reaches out her hand, and a thin strut of metal, a piece of rebar, rises into the air, poised like a spear. "That's far enough!" she barks. "Herk! Get out here."

A rusted-out wreck of a speeder that blended in with the wall of the alleyway suddenly shifts, grinding into the thoroughfare, and a hulking Houk, skin shades of tan and purple, ducks out into the deadend street, grimacing at the unwelcome guests.

"What do you want?" she demands, but Ferren doesn't answer, glancing towards his followers instead and cocking his head to her in a 'go on' fashion.

They move to the next area and are confronted by new foes. When the female displays that they're more than what's normal, Anlace does not hesitate or even need to heed the words of their Sith Lord. She moves forward despite the arrival of a Houk. <"Objective identified. Incapacitate her!">

The loud click coming from her rifle was the telltale of its fire selector moving from FIRE to STUN. The receiver put out a high-frequency whine as a result. Anlace lifts her weapon to present its muzzle in the Invisible Hand's direction and releases an odd sounding ZIIIIPPPP noise of a blue circular array that finds only air. Peculiar skill was displayed in avoiding danger, and Anlace observed the objective react to the shot even before she had squeezed the trigger. Curious.

All alleys, like rainbows, have their ends. Supposedly. If you ignore the fact that rainbows aren't actually arches with two ends to it and are instead halos of refracted light that--- you know what?

All alleys, like rainbows, have their ends. But instead of glittering gold and other such wonders, this one harbours the kind of drek that settles at the bottom of a cesspit. It also harbours a girl whom immediately targets herself as 'da boss' when she orders a hulking mass to come to her defense. "I'm a betting man," Xavier says coolly as he tucks his slugthrower away and pulls out a simple combat sword. When bullets fail, try blades. "I'd say that's our target. And that--" a smoke-veiled nod towards the Houk as he exhales tobacco "--would be the pet."

Ah. That was a large specimen of a Houk. But, Tamsin seemed to decide, this was a large force and more than capable. And so, following the Darth's tip of the head, Tamsin stepped aside from, she hoped, the beast's path, and approached the small human shouting orders. She did not, at any point, lower her lightsaber, but there was only a flick of her saberless hand's wrist, as those eyes, still hidden behind the mask narrowed, will calling a circlet of force into being around the other woman's throat, clamping down, choking off much of her air flow.

<"Target identified. Switching to stun."> It's as simple as thumbing a selector on the left side of the blaster rifle. A subtle whine throughout the weapon's frame indicates it's switched over from the frozen tibanna gas it uses to spit destructive kill bolts from its barrel and instead will generate a blast that will scramble the target's nervous system. A1025 misses. So does K7020. The blue lance streaks close to the target, but doesn't connect. It impacts harmlessly on the wall beyond and dissipates. Rather than surprise, K7020 simply adjusts sight picture and readies to fire again, tongue thick in her mouth but unmoving. The Houk is ignored in favor of the primary objective. K7020 knows it to be a sentient species with a thick hide that will take more than a couple of shots to go down, but the target beyond him is potentially more dangerous.

Enraged by the aggression against his boss and friend, Herk lets out an inhuman roar and lunges forward, several hundred pounds of muscle in motion as he thumps one sturdy hand onto the pavement and takes a haymaking swing with the other, a fist like a block of concrete at Tamsin's outstretched arm, clobbering her so hard it carries on into the helmeted woman's body. "Herk SMASH," he shouts, turning towards the rest with a baleful gleam in his tiny black reptilian eyes.

"Tarq Najjic advises you stand down. This - is job offer. Kind you do /not/ refuse. Are powerful here, but can be /more/ powerful. Why die as queen of slum-rock? Live as-"

The recruitment speech ends immediately upon the Houk attacking Tamsin. He steps forward, spinning the glowing blade again as he steps between the Firrerreo and the beast, his lips curling in an unpleasant smile.

"Or! Or. We kill your friend, as killed all others, to make example. You - you make choice here - or in cell." No sooner does the last word hit the air than his lightsaber carves deeply the Houk - once, twice, three times.

"Been smashed by better substances - than you," he tells the Houk darkly.

With the Houk hurt, and what remains of his life used as a bargaining chip, Imani isn't left with much to do. So rather than stab and undermine the threat issued with more violence, she thumbs at Tarq. "You should listen to him. There are a lot of bodies here that make a pretty compelling case against trying anything violent at us. Not that I'm against it if you do, I've killed your type before."

It's all a bit too much, isn't it? Thinking you are unique and powerful, a new force to be reckoned with in your tiny sphere of control here on the Ring of Kafrene, and then having a bunch of freaks in black and red chop through your minions and carve up your main muscle, and then use the thing that made you special and different to throttle you in the street... The 'Invisible Hand' breaks down. "Stop! Stop, don't kill him," she chokes, the words pushed out roughly through a hoarse throat only released when Tamsin got Herk Smashed.

Herk, for his park, is holding onto his arm by a few fingers, his thick hide smoking along lines of destruction left by the lightsaber that scored it. "No, you have to fight! Fight them like you fight others!" he gruffly encourages her even though one of his limbs is nearly off.

Darth Ferren stands somberly in the midst of the carnage, his tattered cape hanging heavily behind him, and he looks down on the broken woman sobbing in the street here in this den of thieves, a warren of desperate dead-end people. "Just like this alley," he mutters aloud, finishing the thought where everyone else can hear it. "I don't want her. Get rid of them both." The order is cold, his dark eyes as reptilian as the Houk's in that moment.

The trooper slows her advance when the ultimatum is given. Anlace takes that time to analyze the female objective, her weapon lowering just slightly as IF she has second thoughts about harming this woman. Emotions etched on her face, concern for her Houk friend. Anlace stares, poised and waiting. When the Dark Lord makes his decree, the Sith Trooper Anlace acknowledges in a cold tone.

<"It shall be done, my Lord.">

Her rifle raises, and a loud click indicates it's been set to FIRE from STUN. The female must have realized the danger she was in, capitalizing on the same precognitive ability that was foreign to ST-A1025. Even though Anlace fires without hesitation, she observes the same phenomena take place like before. Tactically speaking, the human female cannot dodge a point-blank shot, so the trooper makes a tactical adjustment. <"Flanking."> She alerts her battle buddy, and moves from the side to aggressively close the distance. For the Empire.

Tamsin takes the brunt of Houk's flailing, tree-trunk laden attack and Xavier sneers a bit. "Well, that's uncalled for." Though they are here to kill everyone and everything but a singular target, so maybe it's quite called for. But he's angry now. Annoyed. At what is difficult to say and it doesn't matter.

The gleam of his sword catches the various sources of red light as he rotates his wrist: lightsaber beams and blaster bolts dancing on the metal. With a flutter of robes, Xavier closes in the distance with the large mound of Houk and draws blood viserally. Personally.

And for the first time, the casual, laid-back expression is morphed into dark, seething rage.

Why was it that the sound of breaking bones was always so unpleasant? Even more unpleasant, Tamsin had time to reflect, as the Houk's strike sent her body airborne, away from the point of impact and against the alley wall, than the feeling of bones breaking beneath the skin. Arm and ribs. Perhaps it was one of those questions that would never be answered. Or, perhaps it was just the sudden overwhelming wave of pain that brought red to the edges of her vision that made it a difficult logic problem to solve. In any regard, Tamsin soon found herself half propped against the alley wall, less the use of her right arm, the saber still clenched tight in the left. Woe betide any student of the Mad Falleen who dared lose her weapon. Tamsin shook her head, the sight of Tarq's back blocking full view of the Houk who had smashed her. Smashed, but not killed. And that was a mistake. Tamsin did not need two good arms to finish the job. Or any good arms at all, as the saber blade that she still held in her left hand flipped and spun away from her, flying in a perfect arc towards the now sobbing woman, relieving her of her head, and her grief for her fallen friends and failed pride. It was a kindness. Really.

<"As you wish, my Lord."> ST-K7020 begins to pace forward ST-A1025, who already lets loose a shot towards the Force-sensitive woman who has emotionally broken before the display of her companion being nearly hacked to pieces. There's still some fight left in her, because as A1025 discharges a kill bolt in her direction, she shirks out of the way of it. She's not ready to accept her fate. A red lightsaber thrown from behind the troopers doesn't care what she wishes her fate to be, however, and in the reflective gammaplast of K7020's armor, the vividly glowing blade causes a distortion of light to play over it. In the black lenses of her helmet, the Force-sensitive woman is decapitated. The telemetry pod on her shoulder captures it in real time.

Target changed, K7020 walks over to the Houk laying on the ground with it's arm barely attached. <"Enemy terminated."> She says it before aligning the barrel of her blaster rifle with its pain-twisted face. The thumb toggle for the weapon sounds. It whines as the power pack inside its frame charges and primes for destruction. Her finger pressures the trigger and the blaster rifle barks. The distance the kill bolt has to travel is insignificant, and it happens almost too fast to see it leave the blaster rifle and pierce straight through the Houk's head. Face annihilated by the destructive force, K7020 pivots smartly on her feet and begins pacing back towards the contingent of acolytes and Darth Ferren. <"Orders, my Lord?">

With the Houk dead and the woman dead, no other threats are immediately obvious. Nevertheless, Tarq moves swiftly as he dashes over to the dead gang leader, picks up Tamsin's lightsaber, and runs back over to where Tamsin is leaned against the wall. He saw how hard she got hit: "Medic! Is there one?" he barks. "Will be okay, Tamsin." He doesn't turn to look at her, just sets the lightsaber against her belt to clip it in place and then turns to stand guard. "Good 'throw.'" This is just the kind of place where someone would slip in to take advantage of the wounded, and they won't - not this time.

"Looks like you failed the test," Imani informs the crying force user woman, shouders rising in a shrug that implies there's nothing to be done. And there isn't. She's dead before much longer, and with the good work done of wiping out one more force user from the chaotic galaxy, she flips the switch on her vibrosword and slips it back into place. "We probably did them a favor, I can't imagine trying to live in a place like this."

"A pity," Ferren remarks as he steps toward the woman's corpse on eerily quiet feet, the toe of his boot reaching out to turn it over on its back. Without a head, it becomes an it. His lightsaber deactivates, shuddering back into the hilt before he stows it away. "There is no room in this world for those without the will to fight, don't you see? A place like this, the refuse of the galaxy washed up in one place, huddled masses milling endlessly past their own grasping fingers, how could you live this long and not have learned this one lesson?" By the end of the little speech, it's almost a snarl, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself. K7's request for orders brings him back to the moment.

"...secure the perimeter. Prepare for egress. The buzzards will be circling from the sound of conflict." He spares one more look for the dead body, expression a mixture of disgust and disappointment, before looking back to the group as a whole. "You did well. All of you." There doesn't seem to be any acknowledgement of Tamsin's shattered arm, either that or it falls in line with doing well. Stepping over one of the Houk's arms, he starts back down the maze of alleyways towards the shuttle.