Raeden (Rae) Seiko

Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.

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Stench putrefied the air as she walked over the carcasses stacked thick in the cargo hull. Unlike her partner who had been forced to scramble back outside for some fresh air, she was blessed with senses that could pick and choose their focus. At the moment her sense of smell was turned off as much as she possibly could, letting her eyes focus where the large flashlight highlighted and studying the scene. Even so, the smell was stomach turning.

 

The Anda was a small cargo ship, the windowless belly of it meant for metal cargo containers not the decimated human cargo she now picked her way over. She was up to forty bodies and the count was still rising.

 

A week ago the harbor master had been asked to let the small cargo vessel dock a couple days while they got resupplied. The captain had paid cash and then never came back. When the harbor master decided to step on board this morning he was struck by the scent of death and instantly knew he had a problem.  Which was why she was here, the basic blues that had come to investigate couldn’t handle the extreme nature of the loss of life.

 

It was a pit, a black hole of stagnant air. The door had been padlocked shut from the outside leaving the victims trapped with little air and no food or water. From the decay she suspected they hadn't made the trip across the ocean, dying miserably somewhere along the way. Some were stacked against the far wall, likely by those that were still alive and trying not to wallow in rotting flesh. Death had come in waves. She pitied the souls that had been the last to go.

 

They had been refugees.. she was sure of it. Skeletal remains of horns, wings, even tails peppered the more human looking dead. If she had to bet, they were all outworlders who had latched onto some swindlers promise to get out of Europe. It wasn’t the first signs that the registration violence was making its way to their shores.

 

Boots carefully picked her way back to the single steel door, trotting up the stairs to the rusty deck to take a deep breath of fresher air, nostrils starving for something other than the oppression of death.

 

Npc:…I've never seen anything like it

 

Lance's voice quaked as her cool expression flicked to him. She didn’t rattle. Its what made her so good at her job.

 

There is likely more but I got a count of fifty nine…. they are stacked at the back so hard to get a full count till we start pulling them out.

 

Eyes flicked to the harbor master, poor guy was pacing along the dock unwilling to come close to the vessel.

 

I suspect all outworlders… likely promised a better life here… "immigrants" coming to the "new world"…. probably paid a small fortune to end up in a metal coffin.

 

Npc: Fuck….

 

Ya….that about sums it up. Going to need his full statement.. don't trust the blues to get this one right.

 

Npc:.... sure... am on it

 

He pulled out his notepad  and trotted down the plank to the dock below, thankful to be off the floating cemetery.

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LISTINGS / AFFILIATES / RESONANCE BUTTON

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