<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FF0000"> Lana Meyer </span></span></div><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #FF0000"> 'Ghost ' </span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i1343.photobucket.com/albums/o793/Galvin_Fugazi/ef83644e-b81e-4c18-a36f-83c777a6137e_zps8d502a8f.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">Lana had not spoken up so far. As a sniper she was used to wait alone for long times until she got the chance for her shot and she knew if Sarge would need her he would tell her. Sarge always did and so she had checked her weapons for the time being. As they had been heading out for a mission briefing they were fully packed and they had enough ammunition to give those aliens hell. When a blond sergeant had put a young girl in the seat opposite the aisle she had frowned. A kid could mean trouble, but not necessarily. She had been already a tough young lady at the age of this girl. Maybe the young girl was too.<br/><br/>Lana had watched her peek around the next seat to watch what was going on. The beating of the Latina was not really something she should have seen, but kids were always curious and she probably had to see far worser things in the next days when they tried to take Ovia.<br/><br/><span style="color: #80BF00">"Hey...what did I say about getting out of your seat?...Is that man going to hit me too?...No, of course not Lilly. No one on this plane will hurt you...Otay..." </span><br/><br/>Lana had followed the exchange with a smile. The young man seemed to be very caring about his younger sister, as she had learned earlier. Lana leaned over the aisle.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"Hi, little one. I am Lana, but they call me Ghost. And you are Lilli, right? I guess your dad calls you differently. Maybe pumpkin?" </span></div>