The rest on what followed came quick. Namida moved from his post the moment that the stragglers were put down and no one else seemed to be leaving any of the exits of the makeshift fortress. But if Namida was anything, he was uncontested when it came to following an order out to the fullest. Before entering the raider den he set up mines around the three major entrances. Not even the slaves who craved their freedom more than a limb or two would be stupid enough to temp fate with crossing a floor full of plasma mines. The raiders were quickly falling one by one. Either in death or being tossed as close to deaths door as was possible.<br/><br/>When the brunette was struck down what followed was an act of idiocy in the eyes of Blackout. The masked woman that seemed to be barking out orders to the rest of raiders quickly let her guard down. Whoever this person was it was evident that she was more important than life itself. Something that would later be used to Blackout's advantage. What followed was a butt to the back of the head with the end of Blackout's plasma rifle and a weak grunt leaving the lips of the blonde that tossed the safety of her helmet away moments ago. The second her body lay limp on the floor the firefight ended. The rest of the raiders quickly laid down their weapons in front of them. Some of them were armed with switchblades and tire irons and they knew it would futile to attack two soldiers in power armor shooting weapons that could turn them to a pile of plasma quicker than they could dent a suit of power armor.<br/><br/>Blood Raven began to chain the raiders and set them along with the slaves. Namida tended to the brunette and got her stable enough to live a day at the very least. What came after that day would have to come down to the strength of the woman. Blackout forbade any use of their provisions until the blonde would prove herself useful enough to keep her pet alive. The arrangements were moved. All of the blonde's furniture tossed out to see. All her belongings burned. Even her caps were tossed into the ocean knowing they proved monetary value. It was not about a loss or gain. There was a message that needed to be delivered. There was no negotiation to be had. Blood Raven was made to chain her up and toss her in the same holding cell as the rest of her slaves and now the chained and collared raiders she called a family. All of them rigged with explosives. All except her. With the only heat they were provided was the burning heap of her mattress. A luxury turned into their only source of heat.