we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
Quite how Sunjata, a man who was arrested, imprisoned and tortured, thinks that effectively trapping Ronin in this room will make things remotely better is beyond the Star's comprehension. But here they are, with Ronin desperate for the feel of sand between his toes and the roar of the ocean in his ears, instead listening to the creak of floorboards and Sunjata's voice. And it's perhaps that which has his fist lancing up (easily deflected, given his current hungover state), aiming a right hook for the Flood's jaw.
"Fine," he all but growls afterwards, whether or not the blow strikes home. And since he's stuck here anyway, he might as well smell a bit sweeter. So Ronin weaves his way towards the shower, shedding clothes as he goes - Sunjata has probably seen it all before anyways.
"Fine," he all but growls afterwards, whether or not the blow strikes home. And since he's stuck here anyway, he might as well smell a bit sweeter. So Ronin weaves his way towards the shower, shedding clothes as he goes - Sunjata has probably seen it all before anyways.
THE DARK STAR
and continue fighting
