Both Val and Pago stood on in a bit of awe at seeing the hole that Priya Leye had just made in a building.
Sure, it may have been wood she punched through, but it was still a hole in a building. Clearly, Pago thought suddenly, it would be against the better wishes of his rib cage to ever piss her off again.
Val squeaked with a mad glee about her and tore into the structure to explore and search and discover, making notes about the interior as her voice drifted further away. Pago, meanwhile, held up long enough to see and hear what Priya intended to do.
It was suicide. Against the full might of the Gauntlet? She couldn't be serious.
" Ah, Sweetheart? You'll be wantin' to come with us, no?"
Even beneath the visor, with her silence, Pago knew the answer.
" Hell ..."
He couldn't abandon her. Not to this, not to this. He ducked his head into the building, grasping the sides of the new portal with his hands.
" Val!"
" Mister Pago!"
Vallabeeraglennaquib popped up as if a child's toy springing from a box, suddenly appearing whence before she had not.
" Listen to me; you can make it to the ship from here."
Squib eyes widened slightly, even as ears flopped over.
" Of course can! All can!" she said, as if it were so apparent it did not need to be stated.
Pago was checking over his slugthrower. The cylinder was out, spent casings clattering to the floor even as he began to slide new ones in, one shell at a time.
" No: you can, Val. Get to the ship. Get inside: they won't be looking for you if they've found us. You're going to find us, with the ship. Right?"
Pago smiled slightly as he pulled something from his vest pocket, an item that appeared to be a pocket watch. Instead, the ornate device was a homing beacon. One that connected back to the Cheveyo's sensors. A nifty little trick.
Paws ran over the smooth object, having held it many times past. Whiskers were brushed along the metallic surface, leaving and taking scent. Val knew what Mister Pago asked, what his words meant. Mister Pago had saved Val, and Pretty Metal Lady had saved Val and Mister Pago.
Now she had to save them all.
" Val ... Val make you proud. Make you and Pretty Metal Lady respect Squib, you bet." she chirped with a confidence she only partially felt. Val ignited the homing beacon, knowing without looking the right key sequence to turn on the generator, and then handed it back to her long-time friend. A gloved hand resting between her ears made her at once yearn to stay and flee, if feet could move in opposite ways together.
" You bet."
Pago grinned softly. He trusted Val. Just like he trusted Priya. And if his calculations were correct, that trust was going to get them out of this mess. He watched for only a moment as Val scampered off, wondering if he was making the right call.
Had he just gotten them all killed ...?
Striding up next to Priya, Pago made the final check on his five-shooter, then gave the cylinder a hard spin. It would be his luck to have the chamber jam in the midst of what was about to happen. Frell That, frankly. He dipped his hat down: the sun was stinging his gaze. A look he turned towards Priya's armored face.
" I know what you're going to say, Gorgeous, and to be honest, I'd prefer you didn't. I'm stayin'. Val's gonna swoop in like a Celestial and save our asses from the fire in just a few minutes: all we have to do is give her the time to do so. Easiest escape of all time."
Or this'll be the shortest path to the grave of all time.
He pulled the hammer back on the single-action slugthrower: a relic, but one that was loud enough and powerful enough to maybe cause some of the screaming horde to hesitate, at the least. The shouts were coming closer, the din audible and a rumble felt in the streets.
Pago and Priya held.
" I'm glad I met you."
He said it simply, suddenly. As if it were the most opportune thing to say, when they were at the most inopportune time to discuss anything. Pago pointed the revolver down towards the end of the alley, fingers curling tightly around the grip.
" Very glad, Miss Priya."
Cartann City
-
Priya Leye
- Posts: 17
- Joined: Sat Nov 30, 2013 9:16 pm
Re: Cartann City
The blue, glowing visor dipped at his words, a hard knot forming in her throat. Even through the vocoder, the roughness of her voice was transparent.
::...Don't make it sound like goodbye, Cowboy. I intend on us both surviving this.::
It was growled out with a boldness she did not feel, but the determination was real. They didn't really have to win, not really. They just had to last long enough. It felt like they had been waiting an eternity. And yet it had not been nearly long enough, not long at all when the crowd turned the corner, and the roar crescendo'd as they laid eyes on two of their targets. They surged forward.
Priya took a half-step in front of Pago, as though she might be able to engage the crowd first and keep them from reaching him.
::...I'm very glad I met you, too, Pago.::
The surge collided with her weapon, the electrical arcs from the prongs snapping and hissing as they danced across multiple bodies at once. The advantage to fighting in an alley was that Pago and Priya really only had to face three or four combatants at a time, depending on how large they were, but the disadvantage was the limited space for swinging a staff weapon such as hers.
Bodies attempted to climb overtop of one another as each mad Adumar citizen wanted to be the one to claim the blood prize, so much so that at points the citizens were fighting each other as much as they were taking swings and firing shots at Pago and Priya. Otherwise those shots might have been a little more accurate and easily mowed them down. As it was, Priya still took some glancing blows off of her armor, the power cells flaring each time to try and absorb the massive amounts of energy and damage.
She ducked beneath blows faster than they could swing, kicked at exposed ankles to knock them down, and used her smaller stature as leverage in every uppercut. She employed the same tactics and quick successive attacks that she had used in the battle arena to fight against multiple opponents at once. And though the quarters were far closer, the combatants were not all so very skilled, so she found, at least for the first few minutes of battle, that she was at least holding even.
She risked occasional glances towards Pago to see how he was surviving. Bruised and bleeding from several places, but standing and fighting. If he fell, she already knew what she would do. She would fall with him, curl her armored body around his, and pray the energy cells withstand the blows long enough for Val to do....something.
An Adumari Blastsword connected with her shoulderplate, making her cry out from the pain even as she turned and shoved her prong into the underarm of the attacker. It locked his fingers in place with the electrical discharge, preventing him from firing the weapon, and she twisted her shoulder back to rip the hilt from his grip. Dual-wielding the electrostaff with the blastsword, her movements became far quicker than before, able to both defend and attack now that she had obtained the pilfered weapon.
But the numbers were too great, they were starting to trample over her, swarming and beating and trying to rip her apart if only they could pry the power-armored plating off. The light of day was squeezed out from the press of bodies.
One cry sounded above the others, a deep resonating voice that Priya at first paid no attention to, but gradually dug into her senses until she realized what he was crying out. And the chorus of voices began to change.
"Zee! It's Zee! Emperor's teeth get the hell out of my way, that's the fekking sweetheart of Cartann you're trying to kill!"
Suddenly, weight was lifted away from her as someone was bodily flung off of her. A meaty hand pulled her out so fast that she almost lost her footing, and she couldn't understand how or why, but she was suddenly upright and fighting again, fighting fiercely as the wave of attackers began to turn.
The towering behemoth beside her roared. "I'd recognize that style of ballet-brawling anywhere."
Though most of the choked alleyway was still screaming for Pago and Priya's blood, a scattering of other voices began to pick up the cry. "Zee! Zee! Zee!" And just like that, some of their attackers were suddenly rooting for their survival.
::...Don't make it sound like goodbye, Cowboy. I intend on us both surviving this.::
It was growled out with a boldness she did not feel, but the determination was real. They didn't really have to win, not really. They just had to last long enough. It felt like they had been waiting an eternity. And yet it had not been nearly long enough, not long at all when the crowd turned the corner, and the roar crescendo'd as they laid eyes on two of their targets. They surged forward.
Priya took a half-step in front of Pago, as though she might be able to engage the crowd first and keep them from reaching him.
::...I'm very glad I met you, too, Pago.::
The surge collided with her weapon, the electrical arcs from the prongs snapping and hissing as they danced across multiple bodies at once. The advantage to fighting in an alley was that Pago and Priya really only had to face three or four combatants at a time, depending on how large they were, but the disadvantage was the limited space for swinging a staff weapon such as hers.
Bodies attempted to climb overtop of one another as each mad Adumar citizen wanted to be the one to claim the blood prize, so much so that at points the citizens were fighting each other as much as they were taking swings and firing shots at Pago and Priya. Otherwise those shots might have been a little more accurate and easily mowed them down. As it was, Priya still took some glancing blows off of her armor, the power cells flaring each time to try and absorb the massive amounts of energy and damage.
She ducked beneath blows faster than they could swing, kicked at exposed ankles to knock them down, and used her smaller stature as leverage in every uppercut. She employed the same tactics and quick successive attacks that she had used in the battle arena to fight against multiple opponents at once. And though the quarters were far closer, the combatants were not all so very skilled, so she found, at least for the first few minutes of battle, that she was at least holding even.
She risked occasional glances towards Pago to see how he was surviving. Bruised and bleeding from several places, but standing and fighting. If he fell, she already knew what she would do. She would fall with him, curl her armored body around his, and pray the energy cells withstand the blows long enough for Val to do....something.
An Adumari Blastsword connected with her shoulderplate, making her cry out from the pain even as she turned and shoved her prong into the underarm of the attacker. It locked his fingers in place with the electrical discharge, preventing him from firing the weapon, and she twisted her shoulder back to rip the hilt from his grip. Dual-wielding the electrostaff with the blastsword, her movements became far quicker than before, able to both defend and attack now that she had obtained the pilfered weapon.
But the numbers were too great, they were starting to trample over her, swarming and beating and trying to rip her apart if only they could pry the power-armored plating off. The light of day was squeezed out from the press of bodies.
One cry sounded above the others, a deep resonating voice that Priya at first paid no attention to, but gradually dug into her senses until she realized what he was crying out. And the chorus of voices began to change.
"Zee! It's Zee! Emperor's teeth get the hell out of my way, that's the fekking sweetheart of Cartann you're trying to kill!"
Suddenly, weight was lifted away from her as someone was bodily flung off of her. A meaty hand pulled her out so fast that she almost lost her footing, and she couldn't understand how or why, but she was suddenly upright and fighting again, fighting fiercely as the wave of attackers began to turn.
The towering behemoth beside her roared. "I'd recognize that style of ballet-brawling anywhere."
Though most of the choked alleyway was still screaming for Pago and Priya's blood, a scattering of other voices began to pick up the cry. "Zee! Zee! Zee!" And just like that, some of their attackers were suddenly rooting for their survival.
Re: Cartann City
The alley was filled with the burning, bitter smell of ionized air and blackened carbon. The shouts and screams of blood and fury. At the end of a sea of raging, murderous intent stood the two hunted, making their predators pay for every step forward. Each of Adumar's citizens that tried to capture Pago and Priya received swift retribution: the sudden jab and shock of her electrostaff or a loud crack of gunfire, the whiff of cordite, and the resounding impact of his bullet.
The five-round chamber had been emptied quickly on the first charge, Pago having a speed loaded on him to slot in the next quintet of death, but by the time his slugthrower was ready the crowd was too close. Instead of accurate fire, he descended into a brawl with his opponents, constantly trying to shove his and Priya's enemies back to knock them out with a swift crack from his revolver. The Mirialan's staff hummed through the air, delivering charges of deadly energy to those it came into contact with and, Pago thanked, thinning out their assailants rather quickly. Even in their haste to achieve the honor of "winning" the Gauntlet, not many of Cartann's citizens were all too keen on taking an electrostaff to the face. Combined with the loud BANG! of Pago's firearm, spooking the people who were so accustomed to the much-more-muffled acoustics of a blaster, it made it where the two Bounty Hunters were only facing the most bloodthirsty of the bunch.
Lucky them.
His strength started to fail him as wave after wave of ceaseless attacks slammed into his body. His face was drenched in blood, a gash having been opened above his brow from a dagger. A blastsword had been fired into his left arm, just below and to the outside of the shoulder. He had taken more punches to the ribs and jaw than he would have liked to recount.
Pago was woozy. Fighting back but unsteady on his feet. Even that didn't stop him from plugging a Zabrak hefting a Force Pike in the chest with two more of his precious slugs, the bullets penetrating thick flesh and breaking steel-like bone.
The bounty hunter screamed and raged. He would not go quietly, not like this. The strength in his limbs was failing, but still he roared with words and powder and shot and fist. Pago was slowing all the while, until he looked at Priya.
Majestic. That was the only word for it.
She sliced and stabbed and spun with grace as her blade, beauty as her shield. A blastsword clenched in one hand, fending off assaults before jabbing the electrostaff home to the sound of piercing screams of pain. Even with her armor looking scarred, Pago could have sworn she radiated the Light of The Force itself.
Maybe she did.
But she was pulled under, and so was he: the numbers were just too great, they could not withstand every last person in Cartann. All seemed lost as he reached a hand out for hers, the crowds keeping them apart with such fury that they may as well have been an entire Galaxy separating them.
Until they called her name. Not her name, but the one they knew her by.
Zee.
With one word, the tide changed.
Zee.
With the changing tide came strength.
Zee.
With strength came the realization: They were going to survive this.
Zee.
Some of their attackers now pounced upon the Gauntlet's executors, driving them back just as furiously as Pago and Priya had fought them of. The alleyway became a free-for-all, Adumari against Adumari, Hunter against Hunter. It gave the duo time to back off, to rest for a moment, each staring at one another in disbelief before launching back into the fray.
They had allies. People who wanted them alive. All because of Priya, because of some Mirialan Pago had met on a Core World backwater.
Once again, he owed her his life. But it was not to be his only debt for the day. Not a moment after the hopeless fight turned into something that was possible to win, a roaring came from the skies. It caught the crowd's attention: the glare of the sun reflecting against durasteel as a large, disc-like shape descended down towards the alley.
An L19 Freighter. The Cheveyo. She spun and kicked dirt everywhere with her powerful repulsors even as the garabe-bay hangar door extended down from her belly, the pilot guiding the vessel close enough for Pago and Priya to hop onboard. Others tried to scramble up onto the ship but those who took up the Call of Zee drove them back with a stalwart defense.
Pago couldn't believe his luck. Against all odds, here was their ticket out of The Gauntlet.
The five-round chamber had been emptied quickly on the first charge, Pago having a speed loaded on him to slot in the next quintet of death, but by the time his slugthrower was ready the crowd was too close. Instead of accurate fire, he descended into a brawl with his opponents, constantly trying to shove his and Priya's enemies back to knock them out with a swift crack from his revolver. The Mirialan's staff hummed through the air, delivering charges of deadly energy to those it came into contact with and, Pago thanked, thinning out their assailants rather quickly. Even in their haste to achieve the honor of "winning" the Gauntlet, not many of Cartann's citizens were all too keen on taking an electrostaff to the face. Combined with the loud BANG! of Pago's firearm, spooking the people who were so accustomed to the much-more-muffled acoustics of a blaster, it made it where the two Bounty Hunters were only facing the most bloodthirsty of the bunch.
Lucky them.
His strength started to fail him as wave after wave of ceaseless attacks slammed into his body. His face was drenched in blood, a gash having been opened above his brow from a dagger. A blastsword had been fired into his left arm, just below and to the outside of the shoulder. He had taken more punches to the ribs and jaw than he would have liked to recount.
Pago was woozy. Fighting back but unsteady on his feet. Even that didn't stop him from plugging a Zabrak hefting a Force Pike in the chest with two more of his precious slugs, the bullets penetrating thick flesh and breaking steel-like bone.
The bounty hunter screamed and raged. He would not go quietly, not like this. The strength in his limbs was failing, but still he roared with words and powder and shot and fist. Pago was slowing all the while, until he looked at Priya.
Majestic. That was the only word for it.
She sliced and stabbed and spun with grace as her blade, beauty as her shield. A blastsword clenched in one hand, fending off assaults before jabbing the electrostaff home to the sound of piercing screams of pain. Even with her armor looking scarred, Pago could have sworn she radiated the Light of The Force itself.
Maybe she did.
But she was pulled under, and so was he: the numbers were just too great, they could not withstand every last person in Cartann. All seemed lost as he reached a hand out for hers, the crowds keeping them apart with such fury that they may as well have been an entire Galaxy separating them.
Until they called her name. Not her name, but the one they knew her by.
Zee.
With one word, the tide changed.
Zee.
With the changing tide came strength.
Zee.
With strength came the realization: They were going to survive this.
Zee.
Some of their attackers now pounced upon the Gauntlet's executors, driving them back just as furiously as Pago and Priya had fought them of. The alleyway became a free-for-all, Adumari against Adumari, Hunter against Hunter. It gave the duo time to back off, to rest for a moment, each staring at one another in disbelief before launching back into the fray.
They had allies. People who wanted them alive. All because of Priya, because of some Mirialan Pago had met on a Core World backwater.
Once again, he owed her his life. But it was not to be his only debt for the day. Not a moment after the hopeless fight turned into something that was possible to win, a roaring came from the skies. It caught the crowd's attention: the glare of the sun reflecting against durasteel as a large, disc-like shape descended down towards the alley.
An L19 Freighter. The Cheveyo. She spun and kicked dirt everywhere with her powerful repulsors even as the garabe-bay hangar door extended down from her belly, the pilot guiding the vessel close enough for Pago and Priya to hop onboard. Others tried to scramble up onto the ship but those who took up the Call of Zee drove them back with a stalwart defense.
Pago couldn't believe his luck. Against all odds, here was their ticket out of The Gauntlet.
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