Arach Jalaal needs to be dropped off in the exclusion zone on Mars with a Vex helmet crest attached to his freaking head. I heard what he said after the Exo brought the caps he needed for his "fleet". "I wonder if they make good scrap metal" he said in that sneer of a voice. His sycophants joined in laughter to his sick quip. He and his Deadorbit cronies are leeches on the city. plundering it from the inside while the dregs and their houses plunder it from the outside. Now I don't personally care what the speaker thinks, He can go to whatever place passes for hell these days, but, I care about the lives...about the light that is on the edge of burning out and I will never run. The Traveler could have...but here it sits. Bastard. I had Crimson, my casper, download my Two to the Morgue shotgun, I walked by the crowd and racked it as I went by. Arach looked nervous and the rest of his cronies went as quiet as the warmind. Crimson hummed a tune that I didn't recognize. I tripped the light fantastic and blinked out of there. I laughed so hard I cried a tear of void when he told me the name and the words to the song. It was by a 20th century poet named LL. Cool J. Momma said knock you out...