AWD #091: A Question of Honor
A Question of Honor
Summary: Holtz and Ceres stop in an abandoned town to scrounge for supplies, but they run into an unwelcome visitor.
Date: 07/04/2013
Related Logs: Landfall
Holtz Ceres 
A rural road and a small town on the surface of Picon.
AWD #91

It's been a few hours, taking the next road that forked and headed west, Ceres has done her best to stay in that same direction - towards the mountains. Spree. She's finally quiet, likely a blessing to Holtz as she lets her own attention drift - watching for signs of human or cylon alike. She presses her hand to her head, letting her elbow rest on the open rim of the window, air rushing past to make her dark hair shift and whip about her face. No radio to listen to, so no reason to turn it on so its just the sound of the engine and the wind roaring through the cab of the truck.

Likewise, Holtz has been mostly silent since their initial exchange after boarding the vehicle. His pistol still rests in his lap, but he's no longer actively threatening her with it; in fact, he seems to be trying to pay attention to anything but Ceres. His face remains caked with dried blood and dirt, and the piece of parachute-turned-bandage on his leg has turned a dull red over the spot where the wound is, his blood is slowly seeping through the impromptu dressing. Seeing this, he pulls out his knife and cuts it off, pulling out a fresh strip of sliced-up parachute with which to replace it.

Boring boring boring. Lots of alternating trees and fields. They pass a sign for 'Mayer' and up ahead there is your average small town lined up a main street, which they are already on. The place looks deserted from a distance.

The town listed ahead causes Ceres' head to pick up and a glance over to Holtz causes her to notice what he does with the bandage. "Hold that thought. We are going to stop and get you what you need so you don't get infected." That said, she picks up the speed to cover the distance. As they near the town, she slows. "Keep an eye out, yeah? Just in case. Have your gun ready." She glances to him and then is sitting forward, trying to get a better look out from her seat.

Holtz is halfway through tying off his new bandage when he looks up to see the town before them. "Well, I ain't just gonna let the damn thing bleed," he mutters crossly as he hastily finishes his work. A moment later, once the bandage is in place, he sheathes the knife and picks up the pistol, bloodshot eyes sweeping across the little town as the truck rolls down the street.

The town is deserted for a reason. The half they enter into looks like a massive fire swept it. The pavement is holed in several places from looks like the Cylons strafing. Cars are riddled with holes and more closely resemble modern art for the disfigurement. The skeletal remains of people can be seen in a few spots, a sign that this place probably isn't home to too many of humanity's fighters. Up ahead, on the other side of the town, is the familiar sign of a drug store. So far, nothing moves.

Slowing as they roll through, Ceres doesn't call out, doesn't say a word, but her window is rolled down to get a better look. Brows furrow and she takes note of what sign the Cylons have left of their presence. She moves through the cars, the obstacles slowly and continues towards the other side of town, the more intact portion. The sound of the gravel and other bits crunching beneath the wheel make her wince. "Better not hit any glass or we are going on foot."

The look on Holtz's face gets progressively more grim as they pass one blasted-out car after another, his eyes lingering on a grotesquely disfigured corpse. "Wonderful sorts, your old family," he murmurs as the truck trundles by the body. His hand tightens on his weapon, and he discreetly points it out the window. There's a quiet snort at her last. "As long as we're still goin', I don't much care how." His leg, on the other hand, might disagree. The pain hasn't gotten any better, and while he might not admit it, Ceres' suggestion to find a drugstore(and hopefully medicine and fresh bandages inside it) is probably a very good idea for him right now.

The drugstore's windows are blown out with a few skeletons laying on the ground just inside, bodies laying where they were apparently shot. There are still some supplies inside, but they are farther in. Looks like bandages are still in stock, albeit with torn open packages laying on the floor.

"Alright, you stay here. Need a look out and your leg is not faring so well." She points out. Ceres shuts the engine off but keeps the keys in the ignition. His chance to run if he wants. Her pistol goes with her though and she opens her door, sliding out. She closes it partially, not letting it latch so that there really isn't any sound to it. Crossing over towards the front, she moves to climb into the drugstore, giving a glance back out over the streets.

"Didn't I tell you somethin' about giving orders?" For all his stubborn combativeness, he doesn't seem inclined to argue the point much further. She's right about the leg, anyway. He's tempted to slide over to the driver's seat and take off — but he doesn't. Instead, he simply remains where he is, pistol in hand and slowly sweeping across his field of vision. It lingers a moment when he gets to Ceres… but only for a second, and then he's back to looking out for Cylons of the chrome variety.

The next time Holtz swings his gun back, there's a figure standing at the corner of the drugstore, rifle up, aimed at Holtz. Its a figure that he'd immediately recognize. Knox. Or, well, one of his model, except he has hair. He's in combat fatigue pants, a black shirt, and wearing an unarmored vest with several magazines. Inside, nothing moves. Ceres probably has enough time to get to the bandages before she hears that voice she has come to know. "Drop the sidearm. Now. Or I will leave you here full of rounds." He takes a step closer and his boots steadily crunch on glass. His movements are slow and precise, a window into the killer that Knox once was. "Orders are dead or alive and I'd rather get home sooner than later. But I've got a soft spot for the wounded."

The silence besides her breathing and footsteps is broken by the sound of an all too familiar voice. Her throat goes dry. She grabs at supplies, shoving them into her pockets. Antiseptic, bandages, some basic pain meds. No water likely but she takes what she can in case they have to hot foot it. Moving slowly towards the entrance of the drugstore, she keeps to the side she heard the voice come from and keeps low, using the wall as cover. She glances up to Holtz to see where he might be looking and gets her indication there. She edges towards the side of the building and takes a moment, nodding her head to Holtz, motioning for him to lower his weapon as she hits the safety off her pistol.

When Ceres gives the signal to lower his weapon, Holtz… doesn't. He keeps the gun leveled at the Six, his features twisting into that familiar sneer of his. "You think you're quick enough, asshole?" he snarls at the other skinjob. "I don't think you're that quick. I've killed a lot of your little Raider friends. I ain't scared of a frakkin' skinjob." He spits out of the window in the Six's direction, hateful eyes focused on the Cylon. Hopefully he can draw the Knox-copy's attention long enough for Ceres to get the drop on him.

The Six? Doesn't even hear a thing inside the store. He shoots a glance across the front that he can see but that's about it. The remark gets a snerk, though. "There's no honor in your actions. If you kill me, I will not die. But you most certainly will." He takes a disturbingly steady aim at Holtz's face. "Place it on the dashboard." His finger tightens across the trigger, about to fire.

<FS3> Ceres rolls Firearms: Success.

She's at the edge of the store, back to the wall and counting to herself. When she gets to five, Ceres moves into view, quick, methodical as she turns to face outward, half of her concealed still as she aims down her pistol quickly, steadying just a brief moment and then pulling her trigger once, aiming down it to try to hit him in a vital area and not waste her bullets. There is a sharp clean way she does it, the fact she doesn't shake or run off an adrenaline high while focusing.

<FS3> Holtz rolls Firearms: Good Success.

"You think I give a shit about your idea of honor, you motherless frak?" Holtz sneers in defiance. And then, he smiles. It's an ugly expression, hateful rather than mirthful. His gun is still leveled at the Six. "I don't think so." And he pulls the trigger, firing at almost the same instant as Ceres' gunshot rings out.

The round goes into his chest from the side, under the armpit. It would kill almost any but the strongest people, but this is a Six and its one round. The Six turns to wheel on the new target and Holtz's round catches him high on the chest. There is the deafening sound of the rifle booming out a three round burst as it arcs over, stitching the sign over the store. He crumbles to the ground on his side and looks up to see Ceres standing there with her gun. "Traitor," he gurgles out, foamy blood then coughed up. Still gripping the gun, he lifts it to aim it at Ceres. He mutters something about boxing but its lost in a cough as the rifle moves towards her.

Ducking her head as the shots go off to pepper the sign, she lets out a breath and lifts her gun again. "I live." She tells him, as she starts to pull back on the trigger and aim for his head. That is until Holtz' movement makes her go still and her gun lifts as if expecting another attack. Pulling her gun up quickly, she stares down at the six and the Major. "Sir, get in the truck."

As soon as the Six goes down, Holtz is up like a shot. He pulls the latch on his door, throwing it aside as he flings himself out of the truck. His blood is up now; if he even hears Ceres, he gives no indication. A mixture of pain and hate is etched on his features, his rolling gait carrying him towards the fallen Six. With the pistol in one hand, his other pulls the knife from his belt; he falls upon the Six, knocking the rifle aside. "Blood calls out for blood," he whispers into the Knox-copy's ear before he jams the knife as hard as he can into its throat.

Sir. The Six hears that and the look in his eyes turns to pure hate. The rifle is coming across just as Holtz kneels. There's another loud burst with the feel of the knife across his throat, but it slips in easily and cuts across. Blood surges past the wound and he struggles, trying to writhe and get up, but ultimately falls slack after a few moments and goes limp with his lifeless eyes staring past Ceres and her gun. He's dead. And in a few minutes, somewhere, he will be alive once more and know exactly where they are. But as the sound of the last burst fades, there is the far-off sound of Centurion legs pounding asphalt.

There is a shiver at how Holtz reacts, a minor one as her eyes narrow and brows furrow. She looks away from that dead stare a moment and hits the safety on her gun. "Storm. Up. We have to move now. They know where we are. He will tell them." She is moving for the truck, with or without him, eyeing the small town quickly for anymore signs of life as she moves, gun in hand. Wetting her lips, she draws a breath and starts looking for a gas station as well, anything to syphon off some more power if possible.

Holtz wipes his knife clean on the Six's clothes even as his death rattle is still escaping his lips. His head jerks back towards Ceres, eyes still ablaze with hate… but it subsides to a dull smolder as her words register, and he nods. Not going to argue on that one, it seems. He pauses just long enough to slam his knife and pistol back in their sheath and holster respectively before picking up the Six's discarded rifle and the extra magazines from his vest. Once he's loaded up he scrambles back to his feet, wincing in pain once more as he moves towards the truck as fast as his wounded leg will allow.

The truck revs to life and Ceres backs it up, turning the wheel quickly as she hits the brake and waits for him. She is looking back quickly, checking for the best way out so that they can still keep heading West. She leans over, opening the door for him, her gun on the seat next to her. "Good call," she says in regards to the gun and then glances back at the body of the six. Her face sours some but then goes unreadable, focusing instead and only waiting long enough for him to hop in before she hits the gas and tears out of town.

Holtz finally reaches the truck and throws himself back into the passenger seat, his breathing heavy from the combination of pain and exertion. "You mothers're a tough lot," he grunts. "Figured the extra firepower'd come in handy, yeah?" He leans back in the seat and gives a long, loud exhale. "Get us outta — " He doesn't need to finish the sentence, though, as Ceres is already gunning the engine, and the truck leaps into motion.

"We are." Ceres says plainly enough. "You have yet to ask me why my left hand isn't bothering me." It seems to be working just fine, though its tense, but it doesn't seem to pain her. "We can…power through things. We are stronger than you would begin to realize. When I was in the brig, I could have broken out if I had wanted to. But what would that have done save for all of you to hate me more?" She glances over at him and swerves around a SUV.

"Had more pressin' concerns than your frakkin' hand," Holtz retorts, still catching his breath. He looks at her, though, as she explains. There's a snort followed by a quick shake of the head. "I think I started t' get an idea after you pasted me that day in the sims." He says it with surprisingly little acrimony, merely stating the fact. The rifle in his hands gets a once-over, and he replaces the magazine with one of the fresh ones he'd pulled from the Six's vest. "Yeah, you probably could've. And probably gotten yourself killed in the attempt." He gives her a hard stare. "That shooter back on the ship was a tough customer too, and he died like a rat in a maze. Think you'd've done any better, do you?"

"I would have been shot, yes. But did not intend to stay on the Orion to be shot. I intended to stay to help and the sooner you get that through your head the better." Ceres glances over at him and then sighs. She doesn't say another word, her brows furrowing as she keeps her thoughts to herself. Her jaw tightens just a little and she careens around another bit of debris and sees the open road ahead and the town is soon left behind. Once there is a clear enough stretch, she reaches down to her pockets and pulls out gauze, bandages, ointment, whatever she could grab, even pain killers. She tosses them onto the seat for him.

Holtz watches her a moment longer, but doesn't press things any further, thank the gods for small favors. Instead, he merely starts picking at the supplies she dumps onto the seat. First are the pain-killers; a shaky hand pours out twice the recommended dose, but he doesn't hesitate to choke it down all the same. The rifle is laid to rest against the dashboard in front of him as he again pulls out his knife and cuts his improvised bandage away, grimacing as the movement tugs against wounded flesh. A generous dollop of the ointment is applied to the wound, followed by one of the bandages before he starts unrolling a length of gauze to wrap around it.

"Address what you can, when we get far enough away I will find a place to stop and see what I can do to secure it a bit better." That is all she says, keeping her eyes on the road and briefly look back behind them. Quiet for a few more miles and then she adds, "Gas is low, but we may have to go by foot if we want to go unseen. Road is too open, all they need is a Raider overhead and we are found." ANd dead.

"I think I can damn well apply a field dressing, yeah?" Holtz mutters, that stubborn Tauron pride of his once again bubbling up to the surface. Once a suitably long piece of gauze is unrolled, he snips it with his knife and begins wrapping it around his leg, tightening the bandage in place. Once he's finished tying it off, he cranes his neck, trying to get a look at the gas gauge. "Any idea how much longer we got?"

"As you wish," Ceres says evenly enough and the next moments are dead quiet. Until he asks. "I don't know. I have a basic understanding of where Spree is and that is where we are headed. I am hoping we run into her people." Which could mean bad things for her, but she's going West, ever onward. "In the mountains. THat is where she is." But her eyes fall to the gas meter.

"Yeah." Holtz definitely isn't going to disagree with that particular sentiment. "Let's hope she finds us before those chromejobs catch the trail." With that he falls silent, picking the rifle back up and hefting it into a ready position, the muzzle leaning slightly out the window as the truck trundles onward, slowly but surely approaching the mountains where Spree and her people hopefully remain holed up.

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