2012 11 08

Thu Nov 8 2072 Down in the Warrens, the evening heats up for a small section of the community. With the hotbed of activity that is the wasted residential area of Aurora right now, that might not be too surprising, but just north of the Rez neutral market automatic gunfire rips up the tranquil dusk. All across the southern half of south central, gangers are killed by other gangers. It heats up very specifically for a small group of people around the Bare Knuckle Gym. The popular hangout where people get beat up, cut up, shot up and very rarely sometimes work out at is kinda busy. With the Warrens being such a state, any place that seems stable is like a beacon of hope. That illusion is shattered when a group of Crimson Smoke gangers burst in and start barricading the place. They yell at the Gym clientele to stay out of their way. Moments later the glass doors shatter under a hail of automatic gunfire: outside a big group of orks hide among the assorted burnt out wrecks and broken buildings, and every one of them is pointing an AK-97 at the gym. The couple of names inside, plus all the paid up members head upstairs to keep out of trouble. The Plum and Boxer head to their lockers and arm themselves and join the security razorboy in watching the stairs. Nothing is going to come up those stairs. Outside, Fray and Katarina pause, they're on the outskirts and it's difficult to say what they really can do at this point while Rex and Double Tap prepare themselves to aid the Horsemen in the Assault on the Bare Knuckle Gym. Everything pauses for a moment, just a moment of pure silence, like one of those shots in a war trid when the camera pans across all the actor's faces in variously grim and set expressions and then you see the commander give the order. It erupts, loud and dangerous as nearly fifteen assault rifles open up all at once. Double Tap heads upstairs on a grapple line and infiltrates from behind while Rex, well he just seems to have fun running right through the hail of gunfire, bullets pinging off his armor-plated hide, and then using himself as an orkish battering ram to clear the front door. Mere seconds pass. It quiets down. The orks outside are reloading, the Smoke's inside? They are not.