Samantha RP Log -- 31st January 2008

Who: Morrie, Samantha, Richard, Vallen, Davin, Ramon, Marcos (Crew of Spitfire)

Where: The Spitfire

What: Drunken emotions turn into a deadly shoot out

Morrie is seated in one of the chairs in the rec area, one long leg thrown over the arm of the chair. She smokes a cigarillo in silence, silently sharpening one of her knives with a whetstone. A cup of coffee is perched on the arm of the chair. Her jacket is tossed over a different couch, leaving several knives in view.

Samantha steps into the area seconds after the call goes out. Apparently, she was on her way. She's got a half smoked cigarette in the corner of her mouth and a slightly perplexed look upon her face. "...Shit hit the fan somewhere?" She asks. She assumes trouble almost automatically.

Also smoking, albeit one of his hand-rolled cigarettes, Richard sits near Morrie and the others, his pinstriped jacket slung behind the chair to minimize the eventuality of wrinkles in the fabric. "Must you always think everything so dire?" he asks Samantha, his voice half-mumbled due to the cigarette's presence. "Nothing like that."

Marcos wanders in from the Crew Area. Winchester hoisted on his shoulder, his hook reaching up and scratching his head slowly as he just looks around. Eyeing Morrie then Richard he leans against the doorframe and just watches quietly.

Ramon nearly stumbles down the stairway, his hand finding the rail at the last moment. Amazingly, his other hand still grips the bottle of booze he's been drinking for the last half hour. He glances up, his eyes meeting Morrie's with disgust written all over them. Ramon sneers at her, then straightens up at the landing.

Morrie's eyes come up as Sam enters the room, though she continues to sharpen the knife with smooth, regular strokes. She smiles slightly at the woman's question. A nod is given to Marcos. Ramon arrives, and Morrie shakes her head.

".........................................................................." comes a comment in Spanish from the Captain.

Davin stumbles in from the galley in curiosity, taking in everyone gathered. He looks to Richard questioningly, but for the moment remains silent, at the edge of the gathering.

Samantha looks over to Richard at his quip and then back to Ramon and Morrie..."Not always dire... but sometimes ya get a feeling... and right now I feel like a turkey the day before thanksgiving." Her eyes flicker back to Morrie's knife and then over to Ramon's drunkness which just makes her blink... "Bloody hell, Sir..."

Catching Davin's questioning look, all Richard can do is smoke while a pregnant pause hangs like miasma over the air, already smelling like drunkenness, sweat and tobacco. But someone has to say something. "Well, everyone take a seat. We can discuss our last run, I think," he proposes, tapping some ashes into the ashtray balanced on the arm of his chair. "Though, now I'm hungry for stuffing, perhaps some capons," he adds, mainly to himself.

Vallen enters the crew area with a swift, almost brisk pace. He apparently caught the tail-end of Richard's order, because he quietly makes his way over to the table and has himself a seat.

Marcos eyes narrow at Richard at his comment. Watching him the words of Sam gather his next attention as he simply states, "He's fine. Only way he can fly straight." Looking to Morrie his head tilts slightly as he walks around the gathering to stand near Morrie, the long rifle resting on his shoulder as he walks around.

"........" says Ramon a little loudly to the captain, "..........................." His left hand tips the bottle to his mouth for a drink, his right hand is free. He stares at Morrie, weight shifting to his other leg as he does.<Spanish>

Davin makes his way over to the table, settling in smoothly to one side of Vallen. He leans over the table, commenting to Richard, "Don' think dat I can really help wit' da capons." He settles into his chair, adding the aroma of marijuana to the gathering. His eyes are slightly reddened.

Morrie's cigarillo burns silently, a tiny bit of smoke curling from its tip. She actually stops sharpening the knife for a moment, the rhythm broken. That's more telling than those dark eyes which remain on Ramon. There is a soft intake of breath, and then she says something truly insulting. Even for the non-Spanish speakers in the room, it's clear whatever she just said was pretty harsh. "...................................................." <Spanish>

Well, the prospect of talking business seems to be postponed: Richard takes a series of lenghty puffs on his cigarette, then balances it within the ashtray. The comfortable cushions of the chair give way to his weight, and he looks from Spaniard to Spaniard, his fingers silently tapping the arms of his chair.

Samantha settles down, clueless as to what half the command staff is saying but it doesn't seem all that happy. She frowns, listening to them and then looking to Richard... then back to Morrie. She's settled into a seat but she looks ready to bolt and break up a fight any moment should it need to happen.

Richard glances toward Davin and offers a little nod in response; then he takes up his cigarette again, drawing in a long, satisfying drag.

Marcos slides the Winchester off his shoulder as Morrie utters out her comments. Glancing down to her then up to Ramon the Rifle sits at a low ready, watching him with a steady gaze. The hook on his left arm squeaks angrily in it's flex of confirmation. The rifle doesn't seem aimed at anyone in general, but it is definately at a point that it can be used if necessary.

Ramon brings the bottle down, his eyes glaring at Morrie. His lips make a hard thin line, and nostrils flare from gathering rage. The bottle drops. Ramon draws the slipshot, eyes on the captain.

Vallen bolts up out of his chair and motions for Ramon to lower his weapon. "Now I don't know what the hell is going on here, but there ain't no need to be drawin' weapons on each other in this gorram ship." His eyes dart over to Morrie, then Marcos. "We got enough problems as it is, yeah?"

Marcos moves quickly for a man with a hook. The minute the slipshot gets drawn and placed on Morrie it is immediately followed with the Winchester being swung around and brought to bear. Stepping up on Ramon quickly he shoves the barrel of the rifle into the Pilots neck. His right thumb eases the safety down as he leans forward and simply comments in their native tongue, ".............................." <Spanish>

Marcos draws his Winchester M1894 - 12500.

Samantha doesn't understand all of what is happening, but she reacts the only way she knows. the only way she ever will. She stands up and steps instinctively, immediately infront of the Captain. She will lay down her life for Morrie, as she would any commanding officer. "I don't know what is happening here but, seriously, cut it out now.." She does her very best to keep a cold command in her voice.

Drawing heavily upon his cigarette, Richard's gun - the chrome-plated Juliet - remains holstered, and he makes no attempt to loose it. "Vallen, Sam," he says in a stern, crisp voice, "take your seats. Not our problem." The last three words sum up his take on the situation, as does the intensity with which he directs his blue-gray eyes toward them both. "Same goes for you, Davin," he adds, even as marijuana smoke coalesces around the Rastafarian.

Davin does not reach for his gun at all, having perhaps appraised the situation in much the same manner as Richard. He leans back in his chair and does, profoundly, nothing.

Ramon shouts angrily at Samantha, "Get the fuck outta the way, doctor! Move or I shoot you too!"

To Marcos, Ramon's eyes glance in askance, and he hisses, "..................................................................................................." <Spanish>

There's a slight shift in Morrie's posture as she watches the bottle drop from Ramon's fingers. The knife she's sharpening is, of course, already in her hand. Her grip on that also shifts slightly as well, fingers dancing up the blade to turn it in her hand. The blade flashes slightly as she does so, light reflecting down the blade as it's turned just right. As Sam steps in front of her, Morena rises, sliding a hand around Sam to pull the woman out of the way, and deposit her on the couch. Apparently Sam's finely honed ninja dodge skills prevent this, and Morrie ends up just standing next to her, with a hand on her arm.

Samantha shoots a glare at Richard, "I'm not letting someone shoot our Captain, end of story. Now lower your fucking gun, Ramon, or I can't say what these guys will do. But you will have to shoot me to get to the Captain. End of story." She growls back at him in angry, sharp English. It's not quite so made for yelling as Spanish, but it suits her sharp, hot voice. Apparently, she's got enough balls right now to totally ignore Richard's orders. She is going to do everything she can to keep herself between the Captain and that gun. And... as Morrie jerks forward to toss Sam, it's the adrenaline and protective skills that, for just a moment, give her that edge to jump ahead of it and keep her position, "This ship needs you more than it needs me, SIR." She growls out.

Vallen shoulders slump somewhat at Richard's command. He looks about ready to return to his seat in fact, until Ramon threatens Sam. Recalling previous advice, he decides to avoid 'middle ground' and draw his weapon. It is then that his hand roams down to the duffel at his side, from which he withdraws his MP-7 and the proper ammo for it. Vallen draws his HK MP-7 - 12594.

Samantha entering the picture changes everything, at least as far as Richard's concerned: he stands from his chair, inadvertently knocking over the ashtray that balances upon its arm. The glass shatters. And he draws Juliet, then says, "Davin, Vallen." The command is implicit - and for Vallen's sake, a second too late; but the effect's there anyway. He aims the barrel at Ramon. "I think you need a lesson in learning how to properly respect women. You touch my wife and you won't draw another breath to regret it."

Marcos eyes narrow as he grimaces. Taking a step back he pulls the Winchester just to the side of Ramon's head. Then *BLAM* a shot rings off down into the Cargo area that Ramon stormed up from. The heated muzzle shoves hard back into Ramon's neck with a hissing sizzle of flesh onto his neck as he barks back to Ramon, "....................................." Each emphasized word shoves the searing muzzle into the neck of Ramon. <Spanish>

There's at least four weapons pointed Ramon's way, and while the slipshot is poised Samantha's and Morrie's way, his mind begins to reconsider. Even the thought that he would do such a thing, burns deep. She wins again. Not even a finger to lift for her. So fuckin' typical. Then, Marcos' rifle goes off a mere foot from Ramon's head. As he flinches from the blast of the winchester, his finger tightens reflexively. The slipshot, pointed in Samantha's general direction, goes off.

Sam knew it could happen. Logically, she knew he might pull the trigger and that is why she was there, so it happened to HER, expendible, or at least able to be off duty for a bit, and not the central nervous system of this ship, the Captain. But still, the actual firing of the gun is a shock to her. The super human dexterity she showed briefly is apparently gone in the shock of it all, or the fact that she simply isn't going to move out of the way and leave the Captain vunerable. In the split second between the gun firing and actually being hit, Sam jerks back in attempts to pull herself and Morrie out of the way, but the bullet lands, lancing fairly deep into her right side... She chokes out a moment in shock, stunned, her motion of falling back against Morrie now complete..."Captain... get out.. now." She hisses in shock

Morrie's momentary distraction by the petite doctor is over quickly, as several more guns come out in the room, and Marcos' shot rings out. That brings eyes that were on Richard back to Ramon y Marcos across the way. At the discharge of the second shot, this one from Ramon, Morrie doesn't even hesitate. On the surface, it might look like a dodge. Except her dodge takes her sideways, into the space Richard and his weapon currently occupy. "....." <Spanish>

The sound from Marcos' booming rifle catches Richard off-guard: he stiffens and turns toward the sound, which saves him - ninety percent luck and ten percent skill - from Morrie's attempt to pin him to the ground. His ears deafened now, he tries to quickly line up a shot to hit Ramon - center mass, like any good soldier would be taught. Things are hectic and crazy, and he adds to it, clicking the trigger of his weapon as he fires at the drunken assailant.

Marcos eyes widen at the sudden barrage of pistol shots echoing after his rifle shot. The flash near him lets him register just where that shot landed. Then Morrie's movements catch his attention. Brow furrows in a glare to Ramon at what he did. Brain working in overdrive to assess the situation, the winchester gets wheeled around and trained on Vallen as his gun comes to bear. Ramon obviously not a threat in his eyes anymore and the movement of Morrie towards Richard just changed the entire situation at hand.

Vallen jumps into action as soon as the rifle is fired. His weapon is loaded just as Ramon reacts to the warning shot, and by the time the man fires his gun at Sam, he's already got a bead on him. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Vallen ignores Marcos and his rifle as he squeezes his finger on the trigger and opens fire with his MP-7.

Davin was prepared for a stand-off, and even guns fired in intimidation. But once Sam is shot, and a gun is levelled at Vallen, the situation completely changes. His face contorts into a rigid mask, and he pushes back in his seat-- he hadn't, until this point, stood, and as he does so the chair drops to the floor in a clatter. His movements are smooth, though-- as blood flies from Ramon, his aim twitches a hair to the side... and Marcos is lined up in his sights. His finger squeezes on the trigger tightly.

Tian had been milling about in her room when the sound of gunfire echoed through the ship. Not one to be cought off guard, she'd grabed the necesities and dashed off down the hall. Now she decends the stairs, cautiously, lightfoot drawn. Expecting to see pirates or perhapse even somone from the Alliance, a look of pure shock flashes over her face when she sees that the ones fighting are her own crewmates. "What in Hell is going on here?!", the tiny woman screaches in her brisk Chinese. Her gun is drawn on the room, but it flashes around as she -tries- to assess the situation.

The sound of his own pistol going off surprises Ramon, and his expression turns to shock when he sees who it hits. Then, in short order, come the answering rounds from Richard and Vallen, their impact upon Ramon causing a wince, then a groan as the force of them spins him around. His eyes stare around in confusion before he stumbles to the floor on a knee. The pistol leaves his hand then. A further stagger and Ramon sits on the floor now. Blood begins to flow from his side and thigh. "....." he murmurs. <Spanish>

It hurts. It hurts like hell, but probably not nearly so much as Ramon is hurting. "STOP! JUST STOP! DISARM ANYONE who even LOOKS like they might shoot! Just STOP NOW! No one needs to DIE!" Sam screams those words, something her just breaking at watching Ramon get shot like it was some sort of firing squad. It made them no better than the first who pulled the gun. At the very, very brief lull in action, though hopefully it will linger, she tries to crawl over to Ramon. See how bad his wounds actually are. "Need to get you... to med bay."

Morrie's somewhat less than effectual dive for Richard ends with her bodying into the man, but apparently he's better trained than she thought. She pulls in close to him, and pulls a knee to the groin. LIttle Richard, meet Morrie's knee! Morena goes the non lethal route, employing blunt portions of her anatomy instead of the knife that is still in her hand. And then, the Captain does something very uncharacteristic. She raises her voice. "Stop fucking shooting before someone who does not deserve a bullet ends up dead. Ramon is down and bleeding. The medic is down and bleeding. The next person to shoot someone already bleeding is going to find themselves unpleasantly rewarded!"

Good Golly, Miss Morrie! The knee finds its mark, and considering business suits don't come equipped with cups, he lets out a loud and terrible moan of pain as the wind's essentially knocked out of him. Not only does the cigarette topple out of his mouth, but Juliet falls from his hands -- thankfully not firing as she strikes the ground in a clink-clink-clank. "Put your fucking guns down!" he squeals, then grabs his junk with both hands, making the most of his commanding presence by staring down Vallen and only Vallen, who's essentially opening up on Mexicans Tony Montana style.

Marcos stretches his one good hand to re-cock the Winchester. The bullet that initiated this fiasco expels out the side and lands on the ground near Samantha. Winchester already at ready and aimed Vallen did in fact pull the trigger. This only means that Marcos returns the favor. Finger squeezes around the trigger and the shot rings out. As soon as the bullet escapes the gun he flexes another around into the chamber. *PING* is the next thing Marcos hears as Davin's shot rings past his head catching the fringes of his few upshot pieces of hair. Instinctively he lowers himself after feeling the graze on his hair. Swinging around he tucks the Rifle under his armpit and takes aim on Davin. The hook does what it does best and hooks Ramon in the armpit and Marcos quickly starts backing towards the exit with Ramon in attempt tow.

Vallen doesn't ease up as the flow of bullets from his MP-7 ceases. And that's probably all that saves him from Marcos' attack. As it is, he manages to avoid the shot with some show of skill while simultaneously turning his weapon on the newest threat - Marcos. Another squeeze of the trigger, and another stream of bullets pours forth.

Davin crouches now and slams his gun on the table. His first shot may have missed, but now he's going to use the object to steady his aim, while taking cover -- the first shot had been pure instinct, but this one is calculated-- Marcos is still shooting, and at people who matter. His finger, rather than spasm-ing on the trigger, is pulled smoothly.

With all that's going on, Tian doesn't look very amused at all. A shot rings out from her lightfoot but hit hits the door instead. Too late... figures. A Foul look crosses her face and a stream of unintelagable Chinese curses spews from her lips. Then finally she cocks the safety on her gun and slambs her other fist against the wall in frustration. "Now somone tell me what THAT was about?!", she screaches, glaring aorund the room at the others.

Samantha's eyes widen slightly as she sees her very wound patient being taken out of the room. Yes, she's hurt, but she's not THAT hurt, and he could very easily bleed out on this deck. She has no clue if an artery has been hit or not. So, instinct kicks in, and she continues her motion of trying to get to Ramon's side, "Get him into med-" Apparently, that's enough to set Marcos off. She doesn't even see this one coming as the bullet slams into her upper right chest. She doesn't even get a chance to cry out, the breath choked in her throat as she collapses back, patient and shooter escaping out the door. For a few seconds, she tries to say something...do something, but that wound cut deep and the pain is just too much. Her eyes roll back as she collapses to the floor, finally down.

Morrie glances over as the men continue to fire, though she keeps an eye on Richard. As Samantha takes another bullet, she looks displeased. A long stream of Spanish profanity issues, softly, from the Captain as her two old friends desert the boat after wrecking havok. She makes her way over to Samantha, knife slid into its sheath. She isn't far at all, and takes a knee next to the fallen doctor to check for a pulse. "Any of you as good with first aid as ventilating?"

By now, at least Richard's functional, the pain in his crotch having subsided. "Somewhat," he replies to Morrie, his voice returned to its normal pitch, "but we're on Perse and if she's movable, we take her to the hospital." He stands fully and, leaving Juliet on the ground, abandoned, moves toward Samantha and kneels down beside her - a look of eminent concern creeps across his face. "We'll bandage her. Should hold temporarily, then . . . well, get her somewhere safe."

Vallen lowers his gun. Any obvious threat to him or the crew is gone and he's winding down from the adrenaline rush he had before. His thoughts are with Sam, now, and he moves quickly to place himself at her side. "Sam's taught me a little 'bout medicine and such, but this is shit I can't fix. We gotta get'er to a hospital double quick."

Davin keeps his distance from the proceedings -- too much crowding is just going to make things worse. He puts his gun away carefully, the safety never clicking on, and moves to Tian, telling her, "Nothin. It was .. nothing, but guns were fired. And when guns are fired, they have to be fired back, or everyone dies." His accent is lacking in the words almost entirely, and there is still a hint of shock to his voice.

"Put presure on the wounds.", Tian calls over to Vallen, Richard, and Morrie. "Then we should get her to a real doctor. Let's not risk losing our own." Her voice is stern and has lost all it's high-pitch shrillness. As Davin aproaches she offers him a nod as her free hand lifts to rest at the man's arm. "Typical.", comes the reply to all this but a look of almost apoligetic understanding crosses her face. The lightfoot is slid back into the guarter at her thigh and that, as they say, is that.

Samantha has a pulse, if nothing else. Thready, but there. Blood is quickly blooming against her gray slacks and white shirt. The gray only turns back, but against the white it's a harsh crimson blossom. She'd probably love to wake up if she could, but she's down for the count now, breath shallow and slow. She remains in the same position she fell, the angle unnatural. Simply, well, broken looking.

"My thoughts exactly. She doesn't look so well." Morrie leans in and says to the woman, though she cannot hear her. "Next time you choose to body shield, put on armor first, Samantha." She rises, once she's sure the doctor is still alive, making room for someone with more healing hands. She blows out a breath, and looks to Richard. "We must talk, once she is stable." Her eyes move to Tian, and finally she says, "A disagreement within the crew. It will be resolved." Of that, she sounds sure.

"Morrie," he says, "go see to your wounded. We'll take her." Richard looks toward the woman, then down to Samantha. Darting back toward his chair at the nearby conference table, he snatches his pinstriped jacket from its resting place, then doubles back and uses its fabric to staunch Sam's wounds. "Vallen?" he asks, looking up. "Can you help carry? And Davin, Tian - go warn the hospital to prep for at least two folk."

Davin purses his lips, glancing to Samantha. He touches Tian's arm, briefly, in some sort of acknowledgement... and then he turns to Richard, nodding wordlessly, and departs.

Tian gives a quick and curt nod, no dilly-dally here. She's off behind Davin as soon as he begins to take his leave. "We will, Richard.", she calls on her way out the door.

Vallen nods to Richard. "Aye, Graves." His MP-7 is stowed away before he assists Richard in tending to Sam's wounds. That done, he kneels at Samantha's head and prepares to carefully lift the woman by her shoulders. "Careful of her shoulder here, it's.. it's bad." His voice is fraught with worry and concern.

Morrie shakes her head, and murmurs, "The two of them may not live through it if I find them..." She strides across the room, picking up her jacket on her way. That's shrugged into with an angry movement, and Morena Luz makes her way down toward the cargo bay, and beyond, in search of her wayward shipmates. "Com or wave when you know her condition." She reaches down to zip her jacket, and continue on her hunt. <Spanish>