Thread: The Vanguard of Terra (MaverickxLeithi)

She had walked into the room tensed for something to spring, but visibly relaxed when she saw that not only were the only other occupants in the room bound, but sedated as well. Even so, her hand reached for the gun and clasped it, holding it loosely while she listened. So we're to be justice, then? Oriana let her lips quirk into a brief frown before she moved closer to the two. I could go for the door, she reasoned with herself. Surely they wouldn't be so silly as to really kill everyone in the room... Her mind flashed back to moments before, standing in the cold, and she shivered. No, that man wasn't silly, which meant he was dead serious. Her eyes flicked between the two again, and she turned her back to pace back to the door she had come in from. I'm not timed. I can't be timed. This wasn't said to be a race, so just... breathe. She glanced at the gun in her hand and made certain that it was ready to fire. The only problem that remained was if she was ready to. She'd been trained to fight, to defend, and to die. Knowledge, no matter how smart she was, had been considerably lacking when it came to anything more than how to kill. When the mechanical voice finally stopped, she raised the gun and pointed it at the Sectoid. Illegal goods are illegal for a reason. For a moment, her mind flashed to when she was younger and received the news that her cousin had taken an illegal weapon on a shooting spree. She had been too young to understand, then... but as she grew up, she had learned, as all people did. Her finger began to close on the trigger when something stopped her. A thought, a mere memory, of just before she had begun her training. Her grandmother had been dying, her pain had been excruciating, and the one thing that would have helped her had been considered illegal for years beforehand, but one young man had the contacts and had gotten that substance for her, and her grandmother had finally stopped screaming. She had known peace for two more weeks before her illness finally claimed her. What were the goods? Were they guns and weapons? Was it medicine or supplies? Oriana shook her head and lowered the gun, a knot forming in her stomach. She didn't know enough, and she had the feeling that she wasn't really supposed to be asking questions. Her attention turned the the second, leveling the gun on the Kandrid. Terrorism. Bombing spaceports is just one message to send, but how soon until it's something more? How many lives were lost in those attacks? She froze. Or were any lives lost at all? Were your weapons illegal? Were you only following instructions? Like I am. Oriana sighed and tilted her head. Like we all are, but we have our choices. I didn't have to sign up for this. I could have become a doctor or a teacher, or something else, but I chose this. Illegal goods piss people off, yes... but there's too many variables in there. All it takes is pissing off one person and you've got your name out on a headhunter's list. But bombing... there's no real mistake in the intent in that, not when it's repeated. Not when it can come so close to home. He, her eyes flicked briefly back to the gray-skinned one, could have been shipping books for all anyone knows. For all I know. But you... Oriana centered the gun on the second alien. Your message is loud and clear, and you made your choice. You are a true threat, completely unquestionable. I can't find a way to defend you logically. If someone puts a gun in your hand, one day you know the gun will be at your head. Today, it's at yours. She pulled the trigger.