Tue Apr 18, 2017 10:24 am
You see the terrorist about to kill Saoirse, and leap to your feet. "DON'T SHOOT BOSS! DON"T SHOOT BOSS!" you cry out, charging the man with an angered, panicked roar and a speed you hadn't known you possessed. Your leg burns with a stabbing pain as you run; your stomach isn't much better, but you push through. In moments you're on him; he dodges to the side to avoid your tackle, but your crowbar out, you swing. It catches him full in the face, ripping open his delicate skull amid a spray of blue-colored blood. As he falls to the ground, you crash your weapon into his head a second time to be sure he's dead, practically smashing it through. Bullets ring out around you, whizzing as they fly; you realize you're in open ground, completely without cover. You start back towards Saoirse, stumbling, almost tripping over bodies; you feel a line of bullets, two or three, pierce your back from behind, and cry out from the pain as you stagger on, coughing and swaying.
The ground shifts. For a moment, there is nothing beneath you but sky; it flickers and suddenly the earth is a flat, grassy field, then solid black... but it goes back to normal as you reach Boss, so you put it out of your mind.
"Everything okay, Boss?" Every word feels like daggers in your chest. It's hard for you to breathe. "I hit... bad guys for you," you manage, giving a sad smile. You strain your muscles, throwing the heavy wooden crate off of her and to the side. She leaps to her feet, thanking you, and rushes back into combat... just as a bullet shatters your left shoulder.
With some agonized effort, feeling winded, dizzy, and confused, you manage to get back behind the crates, and slump to the ground, trying as best you can to pull out your minigun... but you just can't manage it one-armed, and the other arm isn't working right. You glance back toward Boss, hoping she's okay; she spins and whirls among the bad people, smacking them this way and that. Now Boss is protecting you... but that's not her job. You feel anxious, and it isn't long before you see her get shot; see her stumble.
Everything is beginning to feel dark and quiet. Even the pain doesn't hurt as much anymore.
The darkness is coming.
You understand a smattering of Hiltorellian. "Balkoel" is something like "You" or "your group", while "wekoab" has something to do with "death", but an action - "to cause death". "He a hilieti" is something like "my group" or "my people"... but the rest is mostly unknown to you. You catch the word "mifal" - "have/had stolen", you think, and unless you're mistaken, he's talking about "this place". If you were to guess, you would think he was accusing you of killing his people and stealing their planet... but you're not sure what the rest is.
"Bob, I would mightily appreciate it if you could shoot that guy before he shoots me," you say, but before you finish, you realize he's not even listening. With a mighty roar, he leaves cover and storms to the hiltorel terrorist with an incredible speed, flinging himself at the alien for a flying tackle. When the guy effortlessly dodges, Bob sweeps his arm around wildly, planting the end of his crowbar firmly in his face with an expulsion of thick, blue blood. He hits the terrorist a few more times to make sure he's dead, and then starts back toward you. His stomach bursts on the way back, a line of several bullet punctures from his waist to his chest; he stumbles and sways, coughing, but finally makes it back to you. Blood trickles from his mouth.
"I hit... bad guys for you," he manages, and then exerts his enormous strength to throw the crate from atop you. You thank him, smiling, and pull out your kinetic battlestaff, letting it hover before you. Your hand pressed to its center, you begin letting it whirl about rapidly, and charge toward what's left of the Hiltorel terrorists. They are scattered; most of them seem to think you and Bob are down for the count. A couple of them are beginning to set fire to the surrounding buildings, clearly intending to burn the town to the ground. You don't plan on letting that happen.
"BOK CHOYYYY!!!!" you scream as you approach; it alerts them to your presence. Some of them reload - others fire. Bullets fly past - you sense them with your mind - the staff alters the rate of its spin rapidly as bullets smack against it with a series of ear-splitting cracks. You get to the center of their group and swing the staff around, leaning back as it passes over your head; you catch three of them dead-center and the staff shudders, sending them flying backwards a surprising distance - one of them into the wall, where he smacks loudly and falls to the ground, motionless. Another attacker comes at you; holding the battlestaff like a spear, you ram it into his stomach, completely destroying his gravbelt; flying backwards, he tumbles to the ground, rolling, and comes to a stop in a heap.
But then your luck runs out. A bullet catches you in the leg, making you dizzy from the pain; you limp back, slowly, toward the crates. You trip over a woman's corpse, stumbling to the ground. With some effort, you get back to your feet; another bullet grazes your chest, then your arm.
Somehow, you manage to get back to cover, and sink to the ground beside Bob, who doesn't even seem to notice you at first.