Myitt turned abruptly and drew her Dracon, aiming it at the newcomer who had just killed one of their new friends. Without much time to think she fired back at Estril, ducking around the corner of the brick building facing the main street.
"I just wanted the paper," she said furiously, peering around the corner, Dracon ready.
Cars rolling by were starting to notice the flashes of red light coming from the alley, and the loud reports of....laser guns? In particular the news vendor across the road, an older black man in his 40s, watches with growing interest.
Mike/Corliss had already jumped out of the ship onto the roof of the building. "Bloody hell," he cursed, drawing his own weapon. He crouched down just out of sight, the heat of the idling Bug fighter cooking the back of his faded blue shirt.
"Oy! You down there!" Mike yelled, of his own volition. "Yeah, you, mister trigger happy? Do you really have a death wish? You're outnumbered!"