The TF7 Las Vegas

[Petitioner]

Gratefully, Armand guided the beaten old ship to the mooring point, and within ten minutes, all of the crew were released into the ship. Some went to find old friends, others went straight to the casino, and the rest simply wandered around, exploring the retrofitted dreadnought. Their mismatched clothing didn't do much for subtlety, but it was a fairly accurate statement of what they'd been through; some wore oily, tattered remnants of Navy uniforms - some wore civilian clothing - and yet some even wore stolen Reinwehr uniforms, which had been acquired under most dubious circumstances.

Armand himself still wore his Navy uniform, the dull and scratched markings of a Captain proudly displayed. Wesker, his chief science officer and a defector from the Rheinland Military, wore a casual outfit of the sort commonly seen by middle-class Bretonian citizens, though, as usual, he wore a bulletproof vest underneath.

The two quickly found their way to the casino where the others were gathered - Armand had developed a sort of sixth sense when it came to finding people - and easily slipped up to where Allison stood. Armand tapped her on the shoulder and smiled, obviously tired and worn but happy to be with old friends.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Allison?"

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Recruitment | Task Force Prometheus | ICN FIRESTORM