New setting!
Birmingham Reclamation Zone
Section 47A
Depending on who you asked, Birmingham was — well, the consensus was ‘disaster;’ the question was whether it was a mitigated or unmitigated one. The Invaders had ripped up most of the city during the occupation, trying to redo it in a grid pattern. It had worked out a little better than most Invader developments, probably because this region had more human engineers and designers for the Invaders to capture and put to work.
The market square the two were in reflected the Invader aesthetic, in that it was barely functional and completely unimaginative. Plus: “This market stinks of pigshit.” Alex commented, quietly but not whispering. Whispers carried. “Which is strange, since there isn’t any free-range animal protein within kil — miles of here.”
Jim suspected that Alex was perfectly capable of thinking in Imperial units, but the slip-up fit her current persona. The major was wearing a clean, but faded battle uniform with all rank insignia removed, and a few careful repairs at the sleeves and buttons. Her eye-visor was also military surplus, functional but scuffed; at her belt was a holstered G21 Glock automatic pistol. Clearly an Invader-made knockoff, but a well-made one. All in all, she looked exactly like a former Invader sepoy, now turned bodyguard; and the other people visiting this open-air market gave her plenty of room, even after five years of liberation. It took time to unlearn bad habits.