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Description
"My brain reboots. The guy is mocking her, saying that she's a Federation investigator and she just pulled the most gigantic no-no in their rulebook: killing a human.

'Birdy', he calls her. The part of me that isn't thinking bloody retribution believes it to be a nice name. The fact that she's a Federation cop does not bothers me-there's way too many Federations out there in space to count, big and small, nice and horrible, that you give a shit about and you don't.

As for the bloody retribution... first things first. Get rid of the sonuvabitch that tossed me.

My head gets fine enough to allow me to move, and I pull out a gun. It's an Auricon EF-7 PPG, a thing that I keep on Level 3 because I believe it looks like a damn Derringer and feels like one in my hand. Level 3-max power. Strong enough to punch through light armor-forget Kevlar, *steel* armor is not a problem. Thing is, at Level 3 the electronics only take 4 shots at least before they start to melt.

Whatever. It's more than enough. I place all 4 on that fucker's gullet and see the holes form."
-The Journals of Roger Nathan Hackett.

Description
"My brain reboots. The guy is mocking her, saying that she's a Federation investigator and she just pulled the most gigantic no-no in their rulebook: killing a human.

'Birdy', he calls her. The part of me that isn't thinking bloody retribution believes it to be a nice name. The fact that she's a Federation cop does not bothers me-there's way too many Federations out there in space to count, big and small, nice and horrible, that you give a shit about and you don't.

As for the bloody retribution... first things first. Get rid of the sonuvabitch that tossed me.

My head gets fine enough to allow me to move, and I pull out a gun. It's an Auricon EF-7 PPG, a thing that I keep on Level 3 because I believe it looks like a damn Derringer and feels like one in my hand. Level 3-max power. Strong enough to punch through light armor-forget Kevlar, *steel* armor is not a problem. Thing is, at Level 3 the electronics only take 4 shots at least before they start to melt.

Whatever. It's more than enough. I place all 4 on that fucker's gullet and see the holes form."
-The Journals of Roger Nathan Hackett.