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Daireem - Cerania
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Valerie Fas'nvak
Ex-tournament fighter/
ninja accountant

Dominion Master
10/27/2008 11:55:41 AM

Level: 1
Experience: 0

Total Posts: 126
RE: Fighting Skies

While explaining her plan, Valerie had neglected to watch the window and felt low when Hugo brought her attention to the men outside, headed for the airstrip. Snapping her gaze out the window, she counted six of them. She didn't feel very confident about that, especially since Hugo was seemingly unarmed, but she felt some kind of obligation. She stood and swung around, heading immediately for the door. She turned briefly back to Hugo.

Valerie: We need to head them off. I'm not fighting on that airstrip; it's too open.

Mattias didn't answer Hugo; he just watched from his seat as they moved toward the door, unsure of himself, especially since he'd left his shotgun in the ornithopter. As soon as the door thumped closed, however, he decided he ought to go with them, jumped clumsily out of the seat, and ran for the door.

The group of cloaked men were just ahead of them. Valerie scanned the side streets and alleyways to try to determine a path to get ahead of the group without being detected, but she was having some difficulty.

The biggest problem at this point was determining if they were even a threat. She couldn't just march up and start hacking people up; she had to first determine what their intentions were. This probably meant alerting the entire group to her presence, and in the very probable case that they were hostile, she wasn't going to make it very far... unless they didn't have guns, in which case she'd have it made.

If she'd learned one thing in her life as a bounty hunter, though, it was to never assume they don't have guns.

At this point, Mattias caught up with them, the .38 revolver removed from the plastic shopping bag and at the ready. Valerie held an arm out in front of him as if to block his path, a signal to slow down. She turned and whispered quickly.

Valerie: You've got six shots?

Mattias nodded.

Valerie: Follow me up to the corner of that building.

She pointed to a building that the group had just passed.

Valerie: I'm going to signal if you need to start shooting guys.

She bent down slightly, reducing her profile, and took a few quick, silent steps forward, but turned back to Mattias.

Valerie: But not the one I'm holding.

With that, she took off, darting toward the group of cloaked men with near silent steps and carefully removing her butterfly sword, "Susan", from the sheath at her right side, blade downward, edge toward herself.

She reached the man closest to herself, thrust both arms under his armpits, wrapped her left arm up around the shoulder and lifted, and with her right hand placed her blade less than an inch away from his throat. For several reasons, it was her policy not to press into the skin until ready to cut. This wasn't a completely restrictive hold, but it was enough to give her ample time to react if he tried anything.

The action was certain to draw the attention of the rest of the group. She pulled the man away from them several paces, turned her body at a slight angle to keep behind his outline, and her head low—just high enough to see the men.

Valerie: Whatcha boys doin'?

She awaited their reaction.
QuantumTroll
Street Fighter/Space Station
10/28/2008 9:13:34 AM

Level: 1
Experience: 0

Total Posts: 181
RE: Fighting Skies

Hugo followed Valerie until they got close to the group, then he ducked into a side street and looped around in an attempt to flank.

The man who Valerie grabbed let out a yelp but didn't struggle when he noticed the blade at his throat. He got the hint and dropped his shotgun at his feet.

The gang turned around and instantly trained their guns on the pair. Valerie spotted a shotgun and three handguns among the goons. The tall man in the front, obviously the leader, carried a carbine and sneered, "We're just mindin' our own business, little lass. Don't know what your problem is, but it doesn't matter 'cause you'll be dead soon enough.  Or maybe the boys'll have some fun with ya first."

Some quick hand gestures followed, and two goons moved to flank Valerie. They didn't seem to care about the fate of their colleague, and quickly it became all but impossible for Valerie to hide from both groups at once.

Suddenly, there was a dazzling flash and the crack of thunder, and Hugo was standing behind the leader and his closest compatriot with his arms spread wide. Mattias, looking from a distance, blinked away the afterimage of a lightning bolt arcing from behind a building.

Losing no time, Hugo brought his hands together and smashed the thugs' heads together with all the force he could muster.  The third guy just managed to spin around and see the large foot trailing smoke before it connected with his chin. As Hugo finished his spin kick, he crouched, picked up the carbine and tumbled away from the stunned group.

Feet still smoking, Hugo assumed a wide stance and awkwardly held the carbine at waist level, covering the area.
Valerie Fas'nvak
Ex-tournament fighter/
ninja accountant

Dominion Master
10/28/2008 1:37:03 PM

Level: 1
Experience: 0

Total Posts: 126
RE: Fighting Skies

With her own history, Valerie was a bit less dazzled by the show than the others around her, and didn't waste time watching it. Not with the other two guys behind her.

With Hugo making swift work of the group in front of her, she twisted her hostage around toward the two behind her. This brought their attention back at her, upon which they both scrambled to bring their guns to bear—one with a shotgun, the other a pistol—ready to blast through their colleague to get Valerie. Seeing this, Mattias ripped off three poorly-aimed shots from his revolver at the one with the shotgun. Only one connected.

As soon as Valerie heard the gunshots, she ducked, unlacing her arms from her hostage, and dived to her right. The shotgun-toting thug, vision white with the pain of having just gotten shot through the midsection, squeezed the trigger of his shotgun, about half a load of #4 birdshot peppering the right side of the other man's torso and just barely missing Valerie.

Valerie, now sprawled on the pavement, doubtfully with any time to move before being shot, hurled the dagger at the man with the pistol. He attempted to block it with his gun, managing to badly cut the fingers of both hands and redirected it to his left, cutting open his upper arm on the way, then clattering to the ground behind him. Valerie leapt to her feet, drew her other butterfly sword with her left hand, and her Sig from its shoulder holster with her right.

Five of his friends writhing on the ground, two of which were bleeding all over the place, and himself now all cut up, he decided it was time to book it. He turned and ran back through town, firing his pistol blindly behind, completely missing everybody.

Valerie opted to let him go, but whatever was going through Mattias' mind, he wasn't going to; he aimed carefully and fired his last three shots. The man tumbled to the pavement, unmoving.

By this time, prying eyes began to emerge to investigate the ruckus.

Valerie: That was smooth.

She scanned the men on the ground, weapons ready. She moved around the downed men, kicking their weapons away from them, then retrieved her lost butterfly, promptly telling it to "be quiet", and sheathed it.

Valerie: I don't think we should be sticking around at this point. It's up to you if I finish these guys off.
QuantumTroll
Street Fighter/Space Station
10/29/2008 4:58:01 AM

Level: 1
Experience: 0

Total Posts: 181
RE: Fighting Skies

Heaving a sigh, Hugo lowered his weapon.  "Nah, no unnecessary killing.  These guys got what was coming to them, and that's enough.  Uh, nice job, I guess."  Frowning, he seemed to try to avoid looking at the two men with gunshot wounds making pitiful mewling noises.  

He walked over to the trio of knocked-out guys, scratching his chin. "This trick never worked out so well in the past. But I always need new boots." The special technique he used had turned his tough boots into tattered strips of leather and melted plastic.

Quickly, he unlaced and took the tallest man's leather boots and tucked them under his arm.  Looking around at the faces peeking out from windows and doors, he said, "Yeah, we need to get moving.  Let's head to the airstrip."  

Before leaving, however, Hugo picked up one of the pistols and put it in his pocket.  In a light jog, he and the others made their way back to the airstrip.

Hugo turned to Mattias and Valerie and said, "We need fuel and we need to retune the wings.  I can do the wings in five minutes, you two have to find as many fuel canisters as you can.  We can strap them on and refuel after we get away.  Uh, and have a look out for a radio and a nav unit, maybe."

The group made it to the airstrip with no incident. It was now the middle of the night, and everyone was getting tired.  The adrenaline of the fight wore off, and the prevailing atmosphere was foreboding.  Would more bandits show up when the group was split up and in the open?
Valerie Fas'nvak
Ex-tournament fighter/
ninja accountant

Dominion Master
10/30/2008 1:01:27 AM

Level: 1
Experience: 0

Total Posts: 126
RE: Fighting Skies

During the relatively short trek to the airfield, Valerie silently mulled over the battle in the street. Something about it was gnawing at the back of her mind, and she had a hard time determining why. Hugo said it himself: they got what was coming to them. It was even more confusing when she repeated in her head that quip about "the boys having a little fun" with her; she eventually concluded it was all guilt over Hugo's reaction when the fight was over.

The last guy was still shooting at them, granted, but it still felt like shooting and almost certainly killing him was unnecessary. She passed it off as that same guilt.

Valerie nodded at the mention of the required supplies. She didn't expect to find a navigational device any more advanced than a map in a place like this, but a radio wouldn't be so hard, and fuel should be a given.

Though there didn't appear to be anyone else here, the flashers lining the runway and bright stadium lights had been turned on sometime since they had arrived and were now lighting the area superbly. Valerie hesitated before even setting foot on the tarmac. What a great place to be when people want you dead.

Mattias spotted near the control tower what looked like a farm tractor hitched up to a wood and metal trailer with a fuel tank bolted on, with a small pump and hose bolted onto the fuel tank.

Mattias: That'll get us fueled up, but I guess we're going to want some gas cans.
Valerie: Go ahead and see if you can get that thing over here. I'm going to check out the storage shed.

The control tower was shed-like because it was a shed; it appeared that at some point the tower had just been built onto it and the shed expanded. Valerie jogged over to it, too uneasy to walk, and studied the door. It may be a wooden building, but they had secured it. The door was fairly new; metal and deadbolted, though with a window.

She thought about it for a moment. If they weren't killed by pirates first, they'd be run out of town anyway, so what was a little breaking and entering?

She produced her sword from its hidden sheath, took a step back from the door, and shoved the blade forcefully through the glass, giving it a good swish to clear out the broken glass, then fished her arm through and unlocked it.

That might not be how Hugo wanted to find gas cans, but it's how she was doing it. She stepped inside.
QuantumTroll
Street Fighter/Space Station
10/30/2008 6:09:03 AM

Level: 1
Experience: 0

Total Posts: 181
RE: Fighting Skies

As Hugo strapped on his new pair of boots, he thought about the current situation.  Although she didn't seem cruel, Valerie had been pretty cavalier about killing, but maybe that's the sort of thing that a bounty hunter needs to learn to stay alive.  He had figured Mattias would stay behind, but the man had more in him than he initially gave him credit for.  Both of them seemed to swallow his story whole, and Hugo wondered what they would think if they knew the real deal.  "Card game", indeed, he had to give Rick Sonny credit for making up an elegant lie.  

The boots were a good fit, if a bit snug. The man from whom he took them was almost as tall as he was. Standing up, he saw Valerie over by the little control tower, and Mattias was out of sight somewhere.  

The bright lights on the airfield were worrisome.  Someone had to have turned them on, and whoever it was had probably summoned the bandit gang.  That meant that whoever turned on the lights probably didn't feel like they could handle a fight on their own.  

But why would they give up the element of surprise?  If the lights had been left off, the bandits and the mystery person would have had an easy time laying an ambush.  The lights must be turned on because they were expecting an incoming plane!

With that realization, Hugo decided to drop the tools for a moment and figure out how to use the weapon he picked up. It was... a rifle or a carbine, by the looks of it, he didn't really know the difference. Pistol grip, a rather long magazine.  Looked pretty new.

With some effort, Hugo found the safety selector lever on the left and noticed it was set to 'fire'.  With a soft click he moved it to 'safe'.  Now more comfortable with the weapon, he hoisted it up to his shoulder like he saw in the movies, sighted along the barrel, and pretended to shoot the lights. That didn't seem too hard, and he hoped the rifle would work  with the safety off.  

Satisfied that he could defend himself at range, but woefully aware that he had no cover to speak of, Hugo set to work adjusting the many bolts, nuts, and belts that made the wondrous wings of the ornithopter do their thing.
Valerie Fas'nvak
Ex-tournament fighter/
ninja accountant

Dominion Master
10/30/2008 11:45:33 PM

Level: 1
Experience: 0

Total Posts: 126
RE: Fighting Skies

Valerie stepped into the dark shed, leaving the door open to let the light in.  Directly ahead of the entrance was another closed door, obviously leading into the control tower itself. Light seaped through the space between the door and the floor; she made a mental note that somebody might be here and moved on, unconsciously stepping lightly, despite already having broken the window. The dead wouldn't sleep through that, so she wasn't fooling anybody with her careful movements.

There was a strained squeaking, stubbornly fluctuating, followed by the rumble of an engine from behind the shed, vibrating the old walls. Obviously Mattias had gotten the fuel truck started. The dead wouldn't sleep through that either.

Removing her too-expensive flashlight from her left coat pocket and depressing the tailcap, she scanned the room quickly, verifying there were no black-clad men or dogs or... black-clad dogs coming at her. Satisfied, she traced along the walls, quickly finding a light switch only a few feet away and flipping it. The fluorescent lights hanging unevenly on their old chains flickered madly before fully illuminating the place.

The room was evenly lined with metal racks, loaded with assorted stuff, and the walls covered in pegboard. The whole place was completely overloaded, with much of it having spread to the floor. She took a step forward and hit something on the floor with her foot; a tapered metal cylinder, riddled with bullet holes, just dumped on the floor here. She lifted an eyebrow and kicked it aside. In the far corner, between the racks, she could spot what appeared to be a metal drum. She walked between the racks, trying not to bump into the precariously placed items, and reached the back of the shack.

Success! A pile of red fuel cans, looked like five gallons each. Empty, too, so her only limit was how much she could fit in her hands; five, to be exact. Triumphant, she headed back outside.

As she stepped outside, immediately the sound of the tractor and its fuel pump hit her, but there was something else. She concentrated.

It was another engine, coming from the road to town. She had a feeling it wasn't a good sign.

Valerie: Hey! HEY!

Mattias barely heard her and switched off the pump.

Mattias: WHAT?
Valerie: Somebody's coming! Come on!

She motioned both of them over to the shed. Images filled her head of a pickup truck with a .50 cal in the back, or thugs hanging out the windows of a Cadillac with machine pistols. She didn't want to be in their line of sight when they showed up.
QuantumTroll
Street Fighter/Space Station
10/31/2008 6:30:42 AM

Level: 1
Experience: 0

Total Posts: 181
RE: Fighting Skies

Working frantically, Hugo got one wing ready to fly in just a couple of minutes.  Wiping his brow, he scanned the area.  A low rumble was coming from the "tower", sounding like a diesel generator or a pump.  Whatever it was, it sounded like progress, and Hugo began to think they'd actually get away painlessly.

Before he turned to the other wing, however, he heard the sound of a high-revving engine coming from the direction of town.  Suppressing a curse, Hugo stuffed his wrench in a pocket, picked up the rifle, and crouched behind the small flyer.  Just like he practiced, he flipped off the safety and sighted at the end of the road.

No sooner had he taken aim than a war wagon careened towards the tarmac.  It looked like someone had riveted rusty steel plates onto a light truck and lined it with spikes and blades. The wagon bucked and swayed on a suspension that was much too soft for its of load. Two gun barrels stuck out from uneven gaps in the armor, and on the bed there was a manned turret.  The gunner wore heavy home-made armor, painted  bright red and yellow.  

Instinctively, Hugo squeezed the trigger a moment before the truck passed his sights. Neither the noise or the recoil was as bad as he expected, and with a tak-tak-tak three lethal metal slugs tore through the air. The first two struck sparks off the bulk of the gunner, the third missed.  The gunner didn't seem fazed, and turned his machine gun on the little ornithopter.  The swaying of the truck bed and the kick of the heavy machine gun made the stream of bullets go high and wide, tracing a big spiral around his target.

Hoping for a lucky hit, Hugo kept squeezing his trigger, firing burst after burst at the war wagon, which turned and was barreling straight towards him.
Valerie Fas'nvak
Ex-tournament fighter/
ninja accountant

Dominion Master
10/31/2008 11:59:57 AM

Level: 1
Experience: 0

Total Posts: 126
RE: Fighting Skies

Mattias reached the shed just as the truck came barrelling over the hill. Valerie gritted her teeth as she noticed Hugo hadn't left the side of the ornithopter.

She couldn't do much from here, but the only thing she could do out there was die, from the looks of it.

The gunner in the back had started to shoot and apparently Hugo wasn't having any of it. Valerie could swear she saw chunks of metal fling off of the armored gunner as Hugo ripped off a burst. How in the world one man could wear enough armor to shrug off a rifle round, she didn't know, but she figured it would be inadvisable to take him on in close quarters.

She heard a loud hiss nearby, almost combined with a thud in the wooden wall. Having been shot at many times before in her life, she recognized this as a bullet passing just a little too close for comfort. She ducked down and drew her pistol. Obviously they weren't just going to let her watch.

It was hard to say if it was a good idea, but she was going to try to shoot out their tires anyway, before they ran into the 'thopter or Hugo. It was going to be hard, not only because of the distance, but how erratically the truck was moving. She was just lucky they hadn't armored the tires.

She slowly popped off round after round, missing the tires by various degrees. The driver then pointed the truck straight at Hugo and gunned the engine.

Oh heck no.

One last shot and, with the combination of the force of the nine millimeter projectile piercing the pressurized rubber and the amount of weight resting on it, the tire exploded completely off of the wheel, causing it to unwillingly steer off to the side, missing Hugo by only a couple of feet before the driver regained control.

At some point during this time, one of Hugo's shots had apparently found a weak spot, because the gunner slumped back, gripping at his chest plate, and disappeared behind the truck's plating.

Focus slightly lessened, Valerie noticed there were still hisses and, more frighteningly, snaps near her.

They weren't out of the fire yet. There were still two side gunners and a driver. She positioned the wall of the shack between her and the truck and began to reload.
QuantumTroll
Street Fighter/Space Station
11/2/2008 7:19:22 AM

Level: 1
Experience: 0

Total Posts: 181
RE: Fighting Skies

The truck skidded by only a few feet from Hugo, tearing a deep gash into the soft landing surface and kicking up chunks.  Only desperation had kept him from moving away from the ornithopter -- without it there was no escape.  

The exploded wheel brought one fact to the fore of Hugo's mind: the tires were vulnerable!  Flopping down on the ground, he started gunning for the wheels.  The truck was taking a wide right turn to take the weight off the ruined right front wheel and pass between the 'thopter and the shed.

The second burst blew out the right rear tire, causing the whole truck to topple back to the right.  With nothing to stop the motion, the front fender dug right into the dirt, twisting the entire vehicle up and around with a big jerk.  The back came back down with a lopsided bounce, shaking like a wet dog. Engine still running, the driver tried to apply gas and get moving again, but the truck didn't budge an inch.

Hugo could just see the driver through the thick grating over the windshield.  Taking careful aim, he squeezed the trigger.  The shots struck too low, harmlessly scattering off the twisted metal of the fender. Nothing happened when he tried again, nothing but the faintest tick -- out of ammo.

Losing no time, Hugo got up and pulled the handgun out of his pocket.  If he could make it to the truck, he could probably take out the guys in melee, but the area in between was wide open.  He set off in a sprint, hoping to make it before they recovered from their crash.
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