Hsi Asmae (VS) Grizzelda Xanxere

[Squee]

Copyrighted to the respectful artist: *pasn (click to see the gallery)

Settlers are far and in between, giving wide expansions of farming land, though this specific area is ringed by a dark forest line that provokes the inquisitive nature of many sentient beings. The harvesting season is in, and farmers have already started collecting their crop. Each row has several large rolls of gathered soon-to-be-animal-food.
The sun is rising, marking the dawn of a new day.
However, some farmer and his pretty little wife are not going to be so pleased when they figure out the next civil war is erupting right in their expanse backyard...

Hsi Asmae vs. Grizzelda Xanxere.
Mercenary vs. Spy
6 Rounds
Someone start. xD

My apologies for such a late delay.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Tufts of hay snapped and cracked as the massive metal droid shifted in the field, moving a leg a few inches to the right to give a certain turret on that leg more aiming room. Jawa and Droid alike worked in harmony together, lying in wait. They had been tracking a quarry to this spot for several days. The quarry would use this as a shortcut to wherever they were going. That was for sure. The target, Grizzelda Xanxere, supposedly a tough one, and Force Sensitive.

The large rolls of hay managed to keep them somewhat concealed, and allowed Hsi Asmae to prepare this battlefield to his terms. He'd only had about fifteen minutes to set up. Hopefully that is all he'd need. He stood close to his droids massive trunk of a leg, ready to use its plating as cover in case his target spotted him first. He currently had his shock rifle out, a standard weapon for Jawa's, for sure, but Hsi had learned that it was fairly profficient against most sentient races.

He stared at the rolling fields in front of him, and the clear skies, bathed in a perpetually red light by the setting of the suns of this planet. A slight wind blew down the field, creating a gentle, spirit lifting breeze. Hsi sighed, what a lovely day. If only it wouldn't have to end the way it did. But he wasn't being paid to sit here and look at the sceneary. No, Hsi was being paid to scower that yonder tree line for the figure of Grizzelda Xanxere, or wait for his Recon Droids to send their wave patterns his way and warn him. Then, to turn that same person into a burning heap of ash.

Checking his weapons for the last time, he stood there waiting...

( This means you get the gambit. )

[Kella]

ooc// Oh, I'm going to sound nitpicky now. :/ nnnnnghh, but it's bothering me... *sigh* Could you pretty pretty please change 'Xanxene' to 'Xanxere' in the thread title for me? Thank you so muches! Okay, now on to business... //


Two reasons found Grizzelda in that wide, expasive field, the dried crop crunching beneath her feet with every step. The first was practical. She was going from the settlement city, to the abode of a certain... aquaintence. The roads in this area wove between properties, taking a route both winding and scenic. While nice, Grizzelda was operating under certain time restraints.

The second was less practical and more... instinctual. Grizzelda was having one of those days where she felt like doing things differently. Changing her habits. Moving in new directions. Keeping things too long the same had a habit of making one identifiable. And to adversaries, identity is far to valuable a tool.

And, of course, there was the added bonus that Grizzelda was greatly enjoying her walk. She had started her trek the previous evening, and had the pleasure of watching the starts twinkle above, endless, before the day had broke. The nighttime cool still clung to the crevices, and as the first rays of sun warmed the air, they made it shift in sweet breezes. One caught Grizzelda in the face, lacing its fingers through her hair, slipping between the weave of her knit shirt. The birthing of the sun set the purple clouds aflame, and there was a warm red hue to the light. For a moment, Grizzelda stopped, and simply let the breeze carry her away.... it was ecstasy, sweet ecstasy...

And then the breeze faded again, and Grizzelda inhaled deeply. Her step was brisk and purposeful as her path brought her past another bale of feed. Her mind, free of having to think about physical things, wandered. She could never have stood the life of a farmer. Too much routine, too much regularity. And a distinct lack of excitement or adventure. Their definition of a near-death situation was when they were forced to fend the predators off their herds. They didn't know what they were missing.

Grizzelda brought her eyes to the sky, watching the silhouette of a bird flock drift silently overhead. Their plumage was black against the sunrise light, and a hint of a smile spread across Grizzelda's face at the sight. Even as she was watching the birds, something flashed in the periphery of her vision. Curious, she trained her eyes on the spot. She could just make out some metallic surface, barely visible behind one of the bales...

Grizzelda's step slowed, then stopped. She had yet to see any other farming machinery, and she doubted that's what this was. If it were farming machinery, there would have been no reason to be out here... so it was something else... Grizzelda's brow furrowed as her right hand snaked to the holster on her thigh. A quiet snap was the only noise as she undid the strap securing her blaster, and wrapped her fingers slowly about the grip. And then she proceeded forward again, slowly, cautiously. It might have been some inanimate object, but Grizzelda had to assume otherwise; it was one of the few ways to stay alive. 'Expect the Unexpected' might as well have been scrawled across the whole thing in bold black ink.

Grizzelda attempted to silence her steps as she continued cautiously forward, half-crouched. But that was impossible in this field, as evidenced by the scrunch which heralded every step. A few more strides, and she would be able to see whatever it was...

...and whatever it was would be able to see her. Funny how those things work out.

Either you're getting paranoid, Grizz, or this is shaping up to be one helluva day...

[Squee]

AGH! Wait, wait, wait, wait, DECEIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING? O.o

I haven't judged your guy's first post yet. And I won't because I don't know if I could keep my eyes from glancing at your second post and instantly biasing this fight.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

So sorry, totally forgot. Forgive? Deleted the post btw.

[Squee]

((Totally Deceit. Lol. <3))

Round 1

Hsi - Deceit
Effort: 3/5
Fairness: 4/5
Detail: 3/5
Coolness: 2/5
Bonus: --
Comments:


Grizzelda - Kellaishleya
Effort:4 /5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 4/5
Coolness: 2/5
Bonus: --
Comments:


Overall Comment: I'm probably going to be an extreme nazi through this one, lol. Cuz I can. -winks-

Total:
Hsi - 12
Grizzelda - 15

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

A pleasant female voice cried out then, with very little emotion, "Alert!" It was the voice of the Spider Fighter's AI.

Hsi bolted up straight. Every hair on his body, assuming Jawa's have hairs, stood up on end. A chill shot vividly up and down his spine, and his cloak waved a bit as his body reacted to that chill, shaking ever so slightly. His red eyes went wider, and he turned his cloaked head toward Grizzelda Xanxere. He didn't know what she was looking at from this distance, whether it was the large droid or the accompanying, smaller Jawa, but if she did look at him, she may have noticed that his red eyes turned into little slits.

At first glanced, it seemed the spitting image of a dark monster, glaring at you from the depths of the darkest caves, for underneath Hsi's effective and strong hood, which was always billowed out wide for his eyes to see forward, not a shread of light managed to get in. It was as if some black hole swallowed the light up and destroyed it. The darkness swallowed everything except those two red beams of terrifying light, scrutinazing whatever it was they stared at harshly. It was truly a scary sight.

And then one realises that the darkness and the eyes belong to a jawa. He immediately raised his shock rifle up and pressed the trigger. Nothing happened, "Eh?" He suddenly cried out, looking at the ammo cartridge and finding that he'd forgotten to place it back in earlier, when he'd checked to make sure it was full. Hsi's confused, 'eh?' turned into a loud, terrified, "EEEP!"

He squealed, turned, dropped his shock rifle and ran behind him, squealing and going, "AYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA!" in a panic the whole way, then diving forward and landing behind the great, armored leg of his Spider Fighter.

The Spider Fighter handled things in what one could call a 'better' manner. It turned the small turrest on either of the legs that could see Grizzelda, swiveling them toward her and taking a shot for her chest with one, the other, calculating one waiting to see if she would dodge, and be ready to calculate where exactly it should shoot. It dug the leg guarding Hsi himself in tightly, fiercely loyal when it believe its master was in any actual danger.

If the sheer size and the menacing turrets was anything to scare Grizz by themselves, it would have sent her into cardiac arrest the moment she saw the slow turning of the gigantic cannon, aiming toward her.

Hsi, crouching behind the massive armored leg, caught his breath and his wits...And also tried to catch his cojones too before that shameful retreat made him embarassed. It was official, he definitely had to kill this woman now, lest she get away and he wind up with a wounded record and then a wounded ego as rumors spread around...

It was just so surprising. His recon droids hadn't noticed her at all, and she'd just gone right by any defenses. Thank goodness that his trusty Z3-N was around, or she'd have been able to sneak right up to him and-NO! He would not think like that. Hsi snarled his disapproval, and pulled out the small rocket-launcher he had, and stood tall. Relatively speaking. He would make her pay, if she hadn't already by the shots taken by the droid.

( The second shot will come at Grizz if she dodges, just so you know, so expect that she'll have to dodge two, even though the first hasn't been fired. And don't worry, the cannon is sluggish. )

[Kella]

"EEP! AYAYAYAYAYA!!" Grizzelda heard the high and strangled cries; they cut through the morning like breaking glass.

"What the--"

Flash!

Grizz knew that red light anywhere; Blaster fire! She ducked to the ground, rolling, putting herself in full view of whatever it was as the bolt screamed by.

Flash!

No sooner had she stopped moving, that another bolt came, straight toward her once more. Grizzelda dove flat against the ground, huffing as her ribcage struck hard dirt. The familiar scent of Ozone trickled into the air. Her eyes immediately flashed into focus, cutting through the stiff grass that pushed up around her. A spider droid, no huge surprise there. She eyed its turrets for a moment, skimming the structure. And... what was that thing clinging to its leg? Short, beady red eyes, little brown cloak. A Jawa. Ha, she was being attacked by a Blinking Jawa. Grizzelda chuckled, she literally chuckled, despite the fact that she was pressed against the ground, dirt digging into her fingernails, and probably fighting for her life. It must have been the source of the screaming. Oh, this day just kept getting better and better.

And then she noticed the cannon slowly grinding toward her. And the Jawa actually thought that sluggish of of a cannon was going to get her, of all people? Well then, she'd just have the pleasure of correcting that misconception. She glanced around, seeing the landscape in a new light. She no longer dwelled upon its beauty, or its color. Everything became a weapon or a defense, a weakness or an advantage, an obstacle or a surprise.

Even as the cannon ground counter-clockwise toward her, Grizzelda leapt to her feet, sprinting at a low crouch, rolling to avoid any blaster fire from those leg turrets. And then she reached where she'd intended, behind a bale of feed, at an 5 o-clock position, if she were to judge her previous location as six-o-clock. She could hear the cannon still grinding, twelve yards away. She had plenty of time.

Not sparing a moment of it, she dug her toes into the flat side of the feed bale, hands quick to follow, hooking deep into the tightly-bunched mass. Now ten feet in the air, she crested the top, keeping a low crouch and bounding forward. Her heaver blaster had been only loosely in its holster, and so she hadn't even blinked before it was in her hand. Aim, fire, duck! The movements were so ingrained into her conscious, so often had she repeated them, that she hardly even noticed the individual steps. Her shot had been directed toward the barrel of the cannon; They were rarely enforced as well as the rest of the droid, and a direct hit would result in a warping of the barrel. The next shot would get caught, and cause a minor explosion, right on top of the fine little droid. It would be quite convenient.

If the Droid had recovered from the unexpected angle, any shots passed clean over her back as Grizzelda threw her shoulder down onto the bale of feed, rolling to the side and slipping down the curved slope. Even as her feet hit the ground, she kept up the rotational momentum, allowing her knees to fold, absorbing the impact across her pelvis. Grizzelda rolled across the ground, coming up into a kneel. She paused for a second, a slow second, as the fluid in her ears settled once more, and she regained her balance. Three shots she fired off in rapid succession; The first two aimed at the Spider's legs, and hopefully the turrets, and the last at the base of the cannon, where it connected to the dome of the Spider's central unit. A weak spot, she hoped. These shots were not perfectly aligned, however, seeing as Grizzelda had little time to spare; those leg turrets would be on her in another half-second. And then she was on the ground again, first one roll, then another, until she was concealed behind another Bale of feed, this one only ten yards from the Spider, and at a 3'o'clock position, relative to her initial 6'o'clock.

But she wasn't about to stop moving; Heavens no. That Spider could shred through the bale anytime it wanted to; set the whole thing on fire; all it provided her was a bit of visible obscurity. The quicker this was over, the better. Some droids were programmed to avoid shooting through any object they perceived solid, and Grizzelda hoped this was the case; she'd use it to her advantage. She wasn't about to take any chances, though.

The small sphere was cold in her palm as she yanked it from the clip on her belt. She raised it to her teeth, and the harsh curve of the key sharp against her gums as a familiar metallic taste settled on her tongue. She Jumped to the left, moving clockwise for the first time, emerging from the side of the bale, and launching the sphere. She watched it only long enough to see the red sunrise light glint off its smooth surface, and to estimate that it would land within two yards of the intended target; but again, it was a hasty shot, and not nearly as accurate as she might have liked...

Oh, how she loved Ion Grenades. She'd keep that little Jawa alive if she could; and find out who he thought he was, coming after her. Now wouldn't that be amusing.

Grizzelda began to count in her head as she ducked back behind the bale, three blaster bolts whisking past her, close enough that she could feel the heat. This was no time to get cocky. She quickly backed, while keeping the bale aligned as so to block the spider from her vision. If she couldn't see it, then it couldn't see her, and she wanted to dance on the edge of its shooting range... Granted, she was going to try to reach that, if she didn't have to dodge another attack first. If the cannon were still functioning, it would be reaching her particular angle soon...

And so Grizzelda counted, waiting for the Grenade to explode... If it exploded. A dud would result in a very unhappy Grizzelda, and a very unhappy merchant, but she hoped it wouldn't come to that, if only because getting her money back tended to be so terribly inconvenient. For some reason, merchants tended to react less-than-friendlily to a blaster barrel on their skull. Hm.

[Squee]

Round 2

Hsi - Deceit
Effort: 3/5
Fairness: 4/5
Detail: 3/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: 2/2
Comments: God, Hsi is just so cute. x.x Haha. And, come, come, Deceit. You're lagging, my friend.


Grizzelda - Kellaishleya
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 4/5
Detail: 3/5
Coolness: 3/5
Bonus: 1/2
Comments: I got a little confused there. It could be just my night time brain, but, I thought how you described her movement was very... confusing. I got lost. x.x I'm the mouse in the maze who can't find the cheese.

Overall Comment: Bonus for making me laugh on my sucky day. Deceit got another point because, frankly, Hsi is a true "lol" moment. But, Grizz made me chuckle. =3

Total:
Hsi - 28
Grizzelda - 30

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

The blasters did not cease fire as the woman ran behind the physical barrier. The AI was programmed to assess an objects durability and its own firepower, and it knew it could get through to the target if the aim was true. A sizzle and the smell of burning hay mixed with the odorous fertilizer. The Hay crackled and burned away, turning red with an interior and exterior heat, twisting and convulsing like a squirming animal until it became nothing but a slight ash and a wisp of smoke, the heat traveling through it and catching the bail of hay on fire. The flames spread out, slowly engulfing the whole thing.

The sound of grinding, clicking gear, the segmented inner worksmanship handling perfectly and audbily turning the cannon atop the Spider Fighter. Hsi almost scoffed at the womans tactis of firing at the cannons turret tip. That wasn't just any steel the cannon was made out of. It was tough and reinforced with Durasteel. It took a great many gears and shocks to get the cannon moving as fast as it did, which in and of itself was not too quick. The turret was made for clearing obstacles and vehicles. A single scar upon its tip would do nothing to the structure of the cannon.

The cannon continued, aiming not for the bail of hay that Grizz was currently at, but directly to the left of the bale she was at. If she was about to step out behind it, she'd be in for a big surprise. Suddenly, another three round of Grizz's weapons rang out, and Hsi watched quietly as the muzzle flashes rang out in quick succession and the three tracer bolts burned across the field, heading for the droid. One hit dead onto a leg turret, slamming right into the perfect spot and burning it beyond repair. Hsi winced, he'd have to spend a lot of money and effort repairing that turret. Not a cheap thing.

The other two bolts missed their intended targets, apparently, hitting nothing but durasteel plating and being absorbed or bouncing off easily enough, without any more than a slight scorch mark. He listened as the droid above him locked its main cannon, just as Grizzelda an object. The cannon set and aimed, locking onto a target.

It fired, the recoil of the cannon sending a vibration throughout the whole moachine, the shocks on the legs and connected to the cannon working violently as the mega-recoil and the smoke filing out of the cannon was evident. A huge green blast scorched across the sky, hitting hitting the ground in a brilliant display of colors and heatwaves, kicking up dirt in every direction. There was a vibration as well, running through the ground from the impact. Hsi grinned, but that grinned fast disipated.

He saw the ion grenade, but it was close, too close for comfort. He winced as it went off near to one of his Spider Fighter's legs, the attack knocking out all power in that single leg. It wasn't close enough to do damage to the whole thing, but the suddenly collapsed beneath the droid, the shocks and locks on it giving way as the energy holding them was lost. The droid went lospided for a moment, until it adjusted, raising its other legs higher, straining them.

Hsi narrowed his eyes dangerously. Now he was just getting pissed off. With a grunt, he turned around and lifted his hands, barely grabbing a hold of the bottom of his droids, straining his muscles and pulling him up, his face sour. He got up onto the droid, opening the side hatch and simply crawling into the interior body, closing the hatch behind him. There wasn't much room inside of the droid, but enough to store cubby's for supplies and merchandise. He grumbled and mumbled as he looked through the various things he had accumulated inside of it.

He found what he was looking for, an ammo supply drawer, and opened it. He grabbed a power cell, storing it into his pocket, and then grabbed two arkadian blaster pistols, accurate, deadly, and fun. Perfect. He holstered them, then turned around, leaping out of his little droid.

He hit the grass, bending his knee's to absorb the devastating three foot drop ( For a Jawa, that's a cool landing. ) and standing up straight. He ran along the underbelly of his droid, scooping his dropped shock rifle and extracting the spent power cell in one smooth move. As he booked it across the field, away from the safety of his droid, which couldn't move, he put the newly aqcuired power-cell in it, and got as close to the flaming bail of hay as he could without burning himself.

Hsi raised his chock-rifle, which had a good four yards of distance with its shot, and squirted around the flaming bail of hail, which was also much distorted and destroyed by the heavy blast of his cannon. He didn't go the full way around cover, for his weapon was still a close range, and if Grizz had been backing away, he knew he'd be a sitting duck with this weapon. Before offering her a view of him, he threw the shock rifle under his back, and pulled out his rocket.

He came out around the cover at a full run, on Grizz's side, and his muscles strained and he dover through the air, hit the ground and worked it into a combat roll, bending his tiny body into a ball, and then coming up on his knee's, throwing his wocket into aiming position and searching for his target. He didn't know if he found it, but through the corner of his eyes he saw movement, and immediately whipped his aim over there.

The distorted coloring of the green reticle offered him no PID on the target, but he figured, what the hell, and squeezed the trigger, the recoil of the rocket sending him off his knee's and onto his back, harshly and roughly. He shook off the pain, and remained prone, going into a sideways roll toward cover, just in case he missed and Grizz started firing at him...

[Kella]

ooc// Ah, yeah, looking back, I did fail to connect a couple dots with the o'clock thing... That's what I get for being a military brat. X) If you look down from a Bird's eye view, and superimpose a clock on the ground, with the droid at the center, then where Grizzelda dodged the first shot would be at the 6'o'clock position, and her other movements relative to that. Or maybe it was the other part that was confusing, and you got that bit... xD Ah well. Upward and onward! //

A mass of heat and energy, the green bolt boiled the air around it. Grizzelda watched as it struck the bale of hay, felt the wave of super-heated air ruffle her hair as flecks of dirt struck her cheeks.

It was a glorious sight. For that moment of impact, colors of every shade and hue exploded outward, embers burning in a rainbow array. The heat bent the air, and it made the burning green shimmer like a veil, hissing upwards through the air. There was a split second, the smallest moment when the lights faded and the bale was still. And then the feed hit its combustion point, and with a feral roar, it burst, a million tendrils of flame cutting out from within.

Now wouldn't that make a pretty post-card.

Grizzelda paused, her hazel eyes moving slowly from left to right, scanning. Where was that little Jawa...

Ah! Suddenly he leaped out from behind the fiery bale, a rocket-launcher in his hand. It was a gut-instinct reaction, and Grizzelda dove to the side, the sharp grass scratching against her shoulder as she rolled. With a quiet crunch, she came up into a crouch just in time to watch the rocket squeeeee mere feet over her shoulder.

"Nice shot!" she said aloud. "A little low, and a little wide. Watch your stance."

And then spied him, still on the ground and looking somewhat disgruntled at the recoil. It was enough to make her chuckle. And yet, no amount of musing could keep Grizzelda's finger off the trigger for long, and she raised her blaster once more. Right hand only, three shots in rapid succession. The first two were aimed for the Jawa's rocket-launcher, and the last for whatever weapon was strung over his back. She would have aimed dead-on, but she did not intend to kill the little creature. She did not know whether her bolts had found their mark on his weapons, but she knew for a fact that she had not stuck the Jawa. Grizzelda might not have always hit what she intended, but she never hit that which she was avoiding. It was a lesson she remembered well, but only because she had managed to separate it from the story behind; that memory was far too painful to be routinely recalled.

Time for a little persuasive talking? Grizzelda sure thought so. "Nice to meet you too," she called out, sarcasm thick in her tone. "So, do they want me dead or alive this time?" She'd already concluded he was a bounty-hunter; it wasn't difficult to deduce. Despite the fact she'd posed the question, the answer didn't really matter to Grizzelda. Whoever this Jawa was working for, they weren't getting her dead or alive, this time or any other.

Grizzelda wasn't about to stay still for long, at any rate. Her right blaster found its way back into its thigh holster, soon replaced by another bit of cold metal. In moments, another grenade key was tight between her teeth. Four shots she fired with her right blaster, purposefully wide. She was hoping to force the Jawa to dodge to her right, his left. She threw the primed explosive, trying to judge the best way to hit her moving target, aiming for the place she had (hopefully) just forced him to dive towards. Ranged things had always made sense to Grizzelda; be they blasters or throwing daggers, or a simple ball. She had one helluva throw. Her current ammunition of choice was a concussion grenade. She intended to stun the Jawa long enough to disarm him. From that point, she'd have little trouble handling the situation, nullifying the threat, and continuing on her merry way.

Even if the Jawa had managed to dodge backwards, or the other way, he would most likely be caught in the Concussion grenade's wave. Enough to knock him off his feet, she hoped, or at least disorient him enough to shred his weapon with her blaster... Grizzelda only had two more grenades on her belt, and she wasn't keen on using them all in the same day. The more quickly she could end this, the better.

That, of course, had nothing to do with her safety. It was more due to the fact that the person she was meeting had offered her breakfast, and this little skirmish was denying her hot food and cold drinks. This left Grizzelda exceedingly peeved. Accursed delays. Was being left to trespass in peace too much to ask? Really?

[Squee]

Round 3

Hsi - Deceit
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 4/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: /2
Comments: Doing rather fine.


Grizzelda - Kellaishleya
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 4/5
Detail: 4/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: /2
Comments: Heh, I dunno, something felt OVERLY iffy about the post.

Total:
Hsi - 45
Grizzelda - 46

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Grizzelda wouldn't have hit the Jawa with anything too effective anyway, for Hsi was holding his rocket as he rolled purposefully so that it was a makeshift cover for him. It would take way too long for him to prime it for another shot anyway. The bolts hit his rocket launcher, and Hsi thought himself clever, not knowing her intent to knock him out. He dropped the now burnt and scorched rocket launcher, partly because the heat was traveling to his hands, and partly because it had served its use.

He used the momentum of his next roll to bring him up to one knee, shooting a look straight at Grizzelda. He presented a smaller target than usual in his crouch, purposefully so, and scrutinized the woman closely. She fired four more shots out wide, but it seemed sloppy. He knew a little about this target, of course he did, he was a bounty hunter after all, and he knew that she was a crack shot. She didn't miss on accident, not four times. So she was goading him into a dodge. And he could see her other hand moving as she started speaking.

Hsi feigned a dodge toward the area that she was goading him into, and once she finished her sentence, which he ignored entirely, not caring for anything that a -target- had to say, and lifted her grenade. As she lopped it through the air, he discerned what kind of grenade it was; a concussion. He'd recognize that brand of grenade anywhere. A small, shiny metallic outer surface, plain and simple, with a bit of red on it where the ignition button, or pin, would be located. Ah, yes, he then discerned her intention. Capture and interogation. It was the only explanation for her hesitant firing.

In the back of his mind, Hsi realized that this woman, this absurd woman, actually meant to -capture- him! She thought that Hsi Asmae was stupid enough to be captured alive by his own trget, and that she could pry answers out of him. In that respect, she was belittling him. She underestimated him greatly, and the thought of such a thing did not sit well with Hsi's mind. Somewhere deep inside his chest, he felt an anger rise upward toward him, and he felt the temperature around his head rise. A new determination rushed through him. Now, it was personal. Grizzelda's head on a platter, that was the goal. Nothing short of it would suffice for him.

His muscles tightened, and he felt himself being thrown into a sidelong roll the opposite direction of the grenade. Or what he assumed was the opposite direction of the grenade, it all became a blurr the moment he reversed direction and tossed himself. He felt his little body hit the ground, felt straw snap and itch his skin beneath his robe, and then felt the wind rushing against him as he rolled and whipped back up to his feet, his hand snapping down inside his robe and finding a small bandolier; where he grasped one of his favorite devices; a shrapnel grenade.

Thoughts of his grenade didn't linger long in Hsi's mind as the concussion grenade went off to his left.

Again he was staring up at the skies. The pleasant coloring, the scattered clouds. It was truly a beautiful day. But he wasn't thinking about that this time, not like he had been earlier. He was thinking about the ringing in his head, and the stinging pain. And he was trying to regain his breath. Hsi cursed his height, for he hadn't been able to roll far enough away. Or perhaps the grenades trajectory was off just a bit, and closer than predicted. Or perhaps he'd guessed wrong. No matter what happened, he cursed it. It wasn't close enough to take him out, out, but it had knocked him flat. He tightined his hand around...

He tightened his hand around the grenade in his palm!!! He felt the pin come loose, and yipped like crazy. Suddenly, a new desperation overcame him. He struggled to rise up, and in his panic forgot about Grizzelda. When he rose to his full height, his newfound headache hit him full swing, and he stagged to the left a bit, clenching his fist once more. And so once more he was reminded of the grenade in his hand. He squealed again, going, and flailed in a panic, before it came across to him that he should throw it. Preferably at Grizzelda.

He picked a random direction, luckily the same one as his adversary, and pulled his arm back, launching it forward with a thundering cry of, "UTINI!" And lobbed the grenade forward and into the air, putting his whole body and spirit into the throw.

By sheer luck, at the same exact time, his spider droid's main cannon finished its cooling process. It could not see Grizzelda, but it did see the concussion grenade explode and knock Hsi onto his ass. In the eyes of a droid, throwing a grenade at its master was the cardinal sin!

The recoil of its main cannon made the whole machine shudder, firing instantaneously.

To Hsi's line of thought, the bale of hay that separated him and Grizzelda from the spider droid was entirely unexpected. Since his own droid was completely out of his disoriented thoughts, he figured the bale merely exploded independently of their battle. The fires of that explosion was great, the smoke even greater, and the amount of dust and earth it kicked up plumed outward in the direction that the great plasma bolt had slammed into, a continuation of its path. A funnel of smoke and debris rained toward Grizzelda, and separated the two combatants from view of each other.

The surprise and shockwave of the explosive set Hsi back on his heels, and back onto his bum. His head throbbing, his primary thoughts were to run and hide. Then the shrapnel grenade exploded, and his line of thought seemed to became all the clearer as a hundred slivers of super sharp metal flung out in every which way across the field. The shrapnel grenade was high up in the air when it went off, sending shards of its dangerous attack raining down at dangerous speeds toward both he and Grizzelda. Four shards embedded themselves deep within Hsi, two on his right forearm, which was instinctively up to protect his face, and two grazing his shoulder and skull.

With that pain came a sense of direction, and his mind was cleared. He figured out in that split second that it was his own droid that blew up the bale of hay, and that right now was the best chance he'd get to attack. There would be no more shrapnel, and Grizzelda couldn't see him through the smokescreen. He rose and took a quick survey of his arms, wincing before peeling out two blood stained shards of metal, large gashes in his squishy arm. The Jawa narrowed his eyes, stood up straight, and pulled his shock rifle before him, raising the stock up to his shoulder, crouching and going at a medium paced jog toward the smokescreen, stalking in toward hi prey. H still had an array of explosives on his bandolier as well, which he kept in mind and made sure to remind himself; be liberal with the ammount of firepower you use on this one.

To Hsi Asmae, it seemed a dumb reminder. Wasn't he always liberal with the amounts of firepower he used?

[Kella]

The little creature had actually thought to feign a dodge. Grizzelda mused that perhaps he was smarter than he looked. Now wouldn't that be rich, Grizzelda Xanxere, impossible to capture for any significant length of time, possessing several bounties and having evaded them all, finally taken down by, of all things, a Jawa. It was such a humorous picture of irony, she was almost willing to let the creature win, just because of the absurdity of it all. Letting her guard down now would be inexcusable, however. She did, after all, have a reputation to uphold.

The Jawa was down, but not unconscious, and a sudden glint in the sky caught her attention. Her eyes flicked upward, registering the arc of the grenade, and much to her great misfortune, distracting her from the sudden whir of the droid's cannons.

The world convulsed in a wave of fiery green. It looked rather like a holiday display, Grizzelda mused, as fireworks of red and black showered her retinas. It felt rather like taking a swim in an acid lake. The next perceptible sensation was hard ground against her side, deep in the biting grass. Well this was just splendid.

Though her head now throbbed, Grizzelda forced her eyes open; she was greeted by an opaque wall of blazing orange. She'd been blinded by something...

The Cannon, Grizzelda realized with interest, placing her hands flush to the ground to force herself up again. It must have fired just to her right, just barely missing... she was probably shoved aside by the sudden expansion of super-heated air--

Pain erupted along her right side, screaming at her with more ferocity than an offended Wookiee. Okay then. She wouldn't be moving her right arm. Still prone, she tested her left arm. Left leg? functional. Right--

Grizzelda was suddenly assailed by a flurry of stinging insects, biting into her flesh every possible place, a seizing wince taking control of her whole body as she shuddered at the impact. She knew that feeling; shrapnel grenade; and that realization was hardly a comforting one.

A moment she let pass, to see what pain would remain... her right thigh, just above the back of her knee, her left hip, her right shoulder, in the center of the blade.

Looks like you've got yourself a brand new set of scars, Grizzelda.

She forced her pained muscles into a crouch, all the while a running commentary keeping her focused. This was working, that was working, oh how this reminded her of that time on Ralltir... She didn't remove the shrapnel from her wounds, no matter how they stung. Pain was a symptom, pain could be tolerated; bleeding to death due to an open wound was more preferably avoided. Her right side seared, but it appeared as if much of her clothing was still intact, though much of her right sleeve was gone, having spared her abdomen some heat, and the right side of her turtleneck seemed to have singed to her skin. The burn that encompassed the whole upper right of her body could be no worse than second degree. If it had been third degree, she would have been able to feel nothing; and she was certainly feeling it right now.

Slowly her vision returned as she crouched, ghosted shapes emerging slowly, and in odd colors, like the developing of a polaroid film. And yet, even as the blazing orange died, all she could see was grey. Grizzelda puzzled at this for a moment, before her sense of smell revealed to her the fact that she was surrounded by smoke. Still vaguely disoriented, Grizzelda reasoned it wise to slip from the screen of smoke. Though it disguised her presence, it disguised that of her enemy as well, a double-edged sword. Staying low to the ground, to avoid loosing her balance, Grizzelda slunk through the swirling mists, attempting to remain as quiet as possible. The smoke of that alighted hay bale had not spread so far as to be inescapable, and the sunlight suddenly burned her eyes as she scurried along. Taking refuge behind another hay bale, Grizzelda leaned heavily against it, her right arm stiff at her side. It required all her will, all her determination to overcome the caustic burn that surged through every limb, but all her will was indeed enough. She allowed her heart to race, allowed adrenaline to subjugate the pain with electrifying numbness. If the Jawa were still alive, he'd most likely come after her. At any rate, she wasn't about to go find him, and so Grizzelda lurked behind the hay bale, her ears sharply tuned for any sound of the droid.

Blaster at the ready, Grizzelda-- hold up... Grizzelda's hands were empty. She'd dropped her blasters in the blast of the cannon. How convenient. But hadn't she...

She had. One of her heavy blasters was still in its right thigh holster, where she'd placed it to free up a hand for her grenade, and Grizzelda soon extracted it with her left hand, right arm still quite opinionated in its refusal to do anything useful. A quick examination proved that while the blast had been hot enough to burn Grizzelda's flesh, it could do nothing to melt the metal of her blaster.

What it could do was make that metal hot. Extremely hot. Grizzelda muttered a curse as she came close to dropping the woman, instead jamming it into the still-intact holster of her left thigh. Alright then. She wouldn't extract her blaster until absolutely necessary.

A wry expression on her face, Grizzelda waited for any sound, any sign of the Jawa... experimentally, she twitched her right fingers, ensuring they still worked, while fighting through the pain in hopes of returning that arm to functionality.

It wouldn't be long before the Jawa found her, not long at all...

[Squee]

((Sorry for the delay.))

Round 4

Hsi - Deceit
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 5/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: /2
Comments:


Grizzelda - Kellaishleya
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 4/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: /2
Comments:

Total:
Hsi - 63
Grizzelda - 63

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

The Jawa's footfalls were qucik and decisive carrying him like a tiny little trooper across the field. He felt himself running through the haze, the smoke that embraced him wherever he moved, but his strong senses were good enough to keep him moving. It was hot, very hot, but he ignored it, hoping he wouldn't get sick later from the increase in temperature but allowing himself to trust in the cooling temperament of his attire. He suddenly saw something, something down beneath him.

It was pure luck that he'd found it, but still he had, and was thrilled. He stopped, and took a knee to figure out what it was, stooping and allowing his hand, clothed with the sleeves of his robe to avoid burns, grasp the thing he'd found. It was metal, he could tell that from the searing heat that bothered his hand even through the cloth. It wasn't exactly an oven mit, so what could he expect. Wincing in pain, he lifted it up to his eye, and saw that it was a blaster. A pretty good blaster. He'd have to remember to come back and pick it up for selling later. But right now he had more important implications to worry of.

His enemy had been at this point, and the explosion had affected them. How much, he didn't know. He wasn't quite ready to accept that she had been disintegrated by the blast, only a direct hit would. So he quickly ran out of the smokescreen and hunkered down low, taking a scrutiny of the field. He could figure out where she'd gone, at first. It took him a moment, but he soon spied a spot in the field where twigs and hay were snapped and crunched by footsteps. A quick examination of the print allowed him to get the general feel for the direction of the step.

Hsi looked up again, taking a quick scan of the direction for a moment. It was toward the forest, and safety. But it was likely that she was wounded. Along the way there was a few places to take cover, including a few bays of hail. The closest one was the most logical for her to take cover behind, though she may have had time to get to a second one depending on if she really had been dazed or wounded by the shot. Hsi was willing to be that she had indeed been dazed at least. Even he'd been knocked down and he was further away.

He looked back to the smokey field, and then all around, and he could see traces of hundreds of little sharp pieces of metal all over the ground, dug in or damaging it with high impact. No way she could have avoided that. But still she'd run off. There was one thing indeed that Hsi could include, she was tough. And she'd been in this business long, longer than he for sure. There was only one logical conclussion, he should be cautious upon this next assault. And an assault it would be indeed.

He reached into his robe and pulled out a small red device, clicking a button on it and speaking into it. It was a recall button, commanding every recon droid that he'd sent out, four of the little balls, back to his position. He waited a good few minutes, and then heard the sweet sounds of the constant hover of the droids. He started communicating slowly to them, telling two droids to fly over one bay of hail, and the other two to fly over another, the one he'd be going to, with 2 of his droids, would be the closest one. The one that Grizzelda had gone behind, though he did not know, only suspected.

He stood, hunched forward, and charged toward the thing, pulling the stock of his shock rifle up, ignoring the pain in his arm and the sores on his body, and cocking the weapon, charging it and taking a slight enjoyment in the low whine of the elecrtical static that built up inside of the weapon. His legs hit the ground with a practiced form, propelling him forward as he landed on the tips of his toes, instead of the more common and crude heel toe method that made a lot more noise and didn't allow for the most efficient run.

He hit the hay stack at the moment that his droids did. There was nothing subtle about his approach, with one droid going around to the left and the other flying right above the hay bail. His droids reached first, eyeing the area and scanning. There was a moments pause, and then they firued out Grizzelda was there. Small blasters fired off, only enough to stun or singe Grizzelda, but if nothing else it would distract her long enough for Hsi to...

Instead of his normal approach he stopped just before exposing himself to Grizzelda, and knew she was there for no better reason than hearing the shots that they sent off at her. He came to an abrupt halt, and leaned against the bail of hay for a moment, taking a deep breath in, and getting ready, in his zone. He was ready to move as fast as possible, which was pretty quick for a Jawa. He would not be beaten by this woman. This wretch. He'd collect her bounty just as he had collected so many before.

"UTINI!" He cried before spinning around the corner and leaning out, releasing the trigger from its depression. The fully charge explosion of electricity spewed forward in a tornado in Grizzelda's direction, bolts and chains of electricity uknifing in, ready to do some serious damage, possibly fry her nerves and brain waves, killing her. If he was lucky, she may only be knocked out and he could consider taking her in alive.

( Durn, I'm on the edge of my seat. )

[Kella]

(( I just realized I make some really funny typos. xD Anyway, I'm sorry this took me FOREVER, the muse has been a pill. -_- I'll try to make this worth the while, but I hope it doesn't just end up as fluff... And it's probably not very fair. But it's all I could come up with... *stabs the muse with a pointy stick*))

Grizzelda bit her tongue 'till it bled, and the rusty flavor filled her mouth. Anything to detract from the pain in her right arm. The burnt flesh cracked and oozed, but the muscles underneath still worked, and infection took days, not minutes to set in. Her arm was still on fire, nerves buzzing and screaming, but she had to ignore it. A minute passed, and the appendage grudgingly relented to allow a decent range of motion. Suddenly, a flash of movement caught her eye, and she refocused her eyes just in time to see a recon droid whir by, thirty yards away. So the little bugger was still alive.

Grizzelda considered her situation, weighed her advantages. Superior firepower? The Jawa was walking around with a war droid. A safe position? She was hiding behind an all-too-combustible hay-bale. The Jawa's size made him a tough target, and her right hand, which was marginally steadier than the left, was hardly dexterous at the moment.

All things considered, it was a pretty hopeless situation. Perhaps too much for that classic human wit and determination to handle, but then again, it was worth a shot. Running, as tempting as it was, would have put her out in the open. She needed to take advantage of a few quiet moments to become better prepared.

As quickly as she could compel her muscles to move, she dug her fingers into the bale, and then her feet, driving them in as deeply as was secure. The feed was wrapped in some sort of netting, to hold its shape, and that provided her just enough support... Her movements stirred up dust from within the stalks, and its grit stuck to the sweat and blood on her face, becoming just another of a hundred discomforts. A growing sense of anticipation coiled in her gut, and the resulting burst of adrenaline thudded through her veins. She could feel the blood begin to ooze around where the shrapnel was embedded in her side, but a surmounting sense of urgency poured enough endorphins into her system to dull the throbbing scream, if only to an agonized moan. She put as much of her weight on her left arm as she could, but still, she was forced to bear some with her right. Every muscle in her body was tense with the sheer force of will that was required to continue moving her hands and feet up, one after the other, as she neared the crest of the bale.

And yet, had she been too slow? The smell of burnt feed rose acrid into the air as a small volley of blaster bolts struck the feed right next to her, far too close for comfort. She whipped her head around, and spied the recon droids. There was no time to think, she simply had to do.

She let her left hand slip from its hold, clenching her jaw as groped for her blaster -- but it was on her right thigh, she couldn't reach it... quickly, her hand drifted instead to the hilt of a dagger. These recon droids were just the same size as the ones she'd practiced blasting on Corellia as a teen. She could do this. Shifting her full weight to that shaky right arm, Grizzelda locked onto the recon droid with an intense glare, and flicked her arm. The blade twirled through the air like an eager insect. Grizzelda cursed, as already she could see it wasn't going to strike dead center, not even close...

The agony of her right arm finally caught up to her, and Grizzelda desperately returned her left to the bale, a guttural antagonized groan muffled by the dense feed. Every bit of her screamed to just let go, but she would not -- could not -- listen. Her only objective became moving upward, just to keep moving upward, regardless of whether she was shot from behind, unheeding of the bloody streaks she'd already left on the feed. Upward, only upward, left foot, right foot, left hand, upward...

Behind her, the blind recon droid refused to retire its shoot command, and as it swung its blaster randomly about, it set fire to random bits of feed, including the base of the one Grizzelda was climbing -- fire licked her feet. Erratically the droid flicked about like a drunken mosquito, until finally, one of its shots hit its brother, sending the other droid smoking down to the ground. The droid made one final error, mistaking down for up, and finally rocketed toward the ground, a volley of sparks announcing its moving from the realm of droid to the realm of pancake.

Grizzelda was just cresting the top of the bale, and she scrambled desperately, unaware of the way the base of the bale shifted, her weight enough to cause it to begin to roll...

"UTINI!"

She suddenly became aware of a blazing dance of lightning below her, chains and bolts of chaotic blue joining the hissing fire she had just now noticed. There was not a moment for conscious thought as Grizzelda began to sink down toward that writhing sea of blue death, the bale rolling now, and even more-so as the fire ate away at the half-sheaved stalks that had been holding it in place. Her climbing hastened, but even as she had crested the top, the bale continued to roll backwards, now consuming the place she had been standing mere minutes before.

The only thing she knew to do was throw herself over the crest, tumbling down the curved slope of the bale, and away from the crazed Jawa and his lightning. The rolling of the bale had shifted it enough that the flames no longer licked at its base, but up its sides as well, and were soon on their way to consuming the whole thing, another blazing red inferno.

Grizzelda fell to the ground, the impact jarring every one of her wounds. A clenched jaw restrained the scream, and it became only a pained grunt. Quickly, painfully, she stood up, but the fire so close was sending even more adrenaline through her veins, and she could feel the unnatural energy skimming into her muscles. On her feet again, she snatched one more grenade from her belt, and bit the key. She threw it towards the last place she had seen the Jawa -- at the base of the flaming bale. With satisfaction, she watched the icy fountain explode, encapsulating the wretched inferno and encasing it in ice.

"That Jawa is getting to be a pain in the ass..." She could only hope he was presently a Popsicle. She wouldn't be retrieving her dagger, at any rate.

The flame curled around the blade, devouring the leather and canvas of the grip, darkening the pommel to ash. The blade began to glow, heated closer and closer towards its melting point by the overwhelming heat of the fire... -- Abruptly, all became ice. The sudden freeze shocked the blade, and even before the ice caught it in place, it had shattered.

It probably hadn't survived the temperature shock anyway, she considered, most metals couldn't. However, this thought only came after Grizzelda had begun to move again. Her best chance of survival -- this wasn't just a game anymore -- stood a few hundred yards away, in the form of thick pine trunks and dark leaves, and a myriad of nooks and crannies into which a war droid could not enter...

At first, her steps were shaky, and the shrapnel in her knee made everything agony. But something about finally running made the danger of it all so very real, and as long as she kept moving, the miraculous adaptation of the human body let her ignore the pain, and the forest drew ever closer. She could only count on the fact that her legs were longer than the Jawa's, and therefore, stronger... Her path couldn't be straight for the forest, no, she had to zig and zag, trying to align with a few heaps of feed... the War droid was still obscured by the smoke, but she couldn't be sure how long that would last, not with the morning breeze that now blew against her, making her sprint only that much more difficult.

The shade of the forest suddenly engulfed her. Adrenaline forced her forward, and she splashed into a shallow stream, running along its length. She was oblivious to everything, save the slick of the water around her feet. At last, she could run no longer. She collapsed against the base of a massive tree, yanking her feet out of the water. Tall ferns grew all around her, their broad leaves blocking out much of the light above her, and obscuring her in shadow.

Black twirled at the edge of her vision as her ribcage heaved, attempting to catch up with the sudden expending of oxygen. Sprawled against the tree's roots, her blood stained the dirt red at its feet. Her thoughts had to sift through a foot of muck to make any sort of sense, but still, they were there. She didn't know where she was, but if she was close to her meeting place... He'd come looking for her, and maybe He'd find her before the Jawa did.

She could muster the energy to do only two things. The first was to steady her breathing, and wait for the throbbing to fade just enough that she could keep going. The second was to palm her last grenade. It was the riskiest yet, but if worse came to worse... it was an option.

"Y'know, old girl," She groaned to herself, wincing at the hoarseness of her voice, "It might have been better to let yourself be captured... and then escape later... because now you're probably going to die. Loosing my touch it seems..." She coughed raggedly, and the movement stuck flashing neon signs upon the shrapnel still embedded in her shoulder and hip.

"Nn, I'm getting to old for this..."

[Squee]

... You know why I was being such a bad mediator to this thread? Because I thought this was the last round. Jesus.

Round 5

Hsi - Deceit
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 4/5
Detail: 5/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: /2
Comments:


Grizzelda - Kellaishleya
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 4/5
Detail: 4/5
Coolness: 5/5
Bonus: /2
Comments:

Total:
Hsi - 80
Grizzelda - 80

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Grizzelda was a very squirly adversary. She managed to dodge, all of his attacks -and- destroy both of his droids in a just a few moments. Squirly and skilled, now he understood why many attempts at capturing her ended with dead bounty hunters. Now he understood the massive sum of money that floated over her head like a strange halo, marking her value and her skill and her experience. So far, she'd more than given him a run for his money.

As she retreated, he saw her fling something at him, and could only assume it was a grenade. His assumption proved to save his life a moment later as he leaped away with all his strength, hitting the ground at an awkward angle and rolling away. Pain shot up his shoulder as though someone drove a spike through it. "Ahh..." He moaned, coming to a stop a few feet away from the fountain of deadly ice.

Grizzelda was already running when he turned to acknowledge her. He lay there for a moment longer, sighing. In his moment of pain, if she'd come around the fountain of ice and attacked, he'd probably have died. With that thought in mind, he sat up, determined to repay this accidental mercy with death. Pain once more exploded in his shoulder. He hissed and turned to his shoulder. It was quite dislocated.

His pudgy arm gripped his own shoulder roughly, yanking and pushing, gritting through the incredible pain until finally there was a loud -pop- and his shoulder was back in place, "Eeeeeeee....." He groaned, as the pain stung and lingered. He turned back to Grizzelda, seeing her disappear into the forest. He pulled out the button that called his recon droids over and had the last one, the one that he'd sent to a different bail of hay, over. "Get in that forest. Find her." he seethed through clenched teeth, "Don't shoot, just bring me to her."

The recon droid went away with a quick, Bleeee-boop, and Hsi turned to gather himself, favoring his right shoulder instead of his now injured left one. It still hurt, and would affect his combat, but it would be fine, minus the hellish sore he'd be feeling every morning for the next two weeks. Sometimes he wished he hadn't been born with such a weak, fleshy body.

Gathering up his shock rifle, he examined it real quick and gasped loudly. "No!" He protested, his voice greatly alarmed, in front of him, his shock rifle lay half submerged in ice. He grunted and got up, yanking and pulling as hard as he could on the stock of the rifle; at first it was no good. Then, finally, shards of ice exploded outward and he was flung back with...half of his shock rifle. "Ahhh!" His shrill voice screamed, staring in abject horror at his broken weapon; one of his favorites!

First my rocket, now my shock rifle, what more shall she take from me! She even took a leg from my spider droid! I suppose its a fair trade for her life, but so far she's more demanding than any of my previous clients!

He stood up, tossing the broken weapon aside, and reached into his robe, pulling out his two heavy blaster pistols. To be reduced to this by a -single- opponent! It was almost outrageous.

At a slow jog, Hsi headed toward the forest-line. By the time he was bathed in the shadows of the tree's, he was already panting, tired. So he walked slower, trying to catch his breath. Grizzelda's tracks weren't very well covered. Hsi was no expert, but he could follow the blood and crashed leaves fairly well. It was a very slow progress, and Hsi was occaisonally stopping, looking ahead, making sure there were no traps.

By the time he neared where she was, he was growing weary of his little hunt. She couldn't have made it too far, judging from the blood and carelessness, she was wounded. Hsi slowly edged forward, he hadn't seen his recon droid; that meant she was conscious or it had gotten lost. He assumed the latter. It wasn't the most expensive thing, and thus it was probably of poor quality.

Hsi sighed and stumbled the next few feet, when he suddenly caught something in the corner of his eye. Off in the distance, there sat Grizzelda Xanxere, up against a tree. Hsi tucked himself quickly and quietly against a tree of his own...Had she seen him? He didn't think so. Perfect, he could just spin around and shoot her now! He thought to himself. On three...one...two...thr- The sound of a quiet hum thrummed through the air, and Hsi looked either way, curious as to what it was. It hit him a moment later as he saw the recon droid buzzing through the air, it turned, saw him, saw Grizzelda, and then started making beep-booping noises.

The damn recon droid turned to him, thinking itself performing adequately, thinking itself following orders by doing what it now started to do. It beeped and booped right at Hsi, turning between him and Grizz emphatically as though it were pointing her out. In fact, it was. And it was also pointing Hsi out. never again am I buying one of these piece of junk things. I build them myself or I don't use them.

Hsi figured he was already blown, so he lifted a blaster and shot the thing in the face, turning around and speaking to Grizzelda, "This is your last chance. Surrender now or die." Of course, if she surrendered, he'd only act as though she could live, and then as soon as he got to the spider droid he'd shoot her. Afterall, he didn't want to carry her head all the way back through this wretched forest.

He rested against the trunk of the tree, holding his breath. With luck, she'd surrender. Oh, how he hoped she'd just surrender.

[Kella]

This wasn't the first time Grizzelda had come so close to death. And yet, every time, she wondered if it would be her last. These were the only moments in which she faced her own mortality, drawn to the shadows of thoughts as a moth is drawn to the light. Death would come so easy. Like closing her eyes, slipping off to sleep, to a world where there was no pain, just... nothingness...

Tempting thoughts, those. Death seemed to Grizzelda as nothing more than a lonely soul. It stayed in the shadows, despised, hated, avoided. It didn't prey, it simply... waited. Waited for another soul to join it.

Perhaps Grizzelda would become a friend of death, some day -- but not today. Today, death signified defeat. Defeat was something Grizzelda did not take kindly to. She had only one prerequisite to offer Death, and that was honor. To die at the hand of a worthy opponent was to die with honor, and with that... Grizzelda was satisfied. All her life dealt with subertfuge, and it had been fraught with acts of secrecy... all at the cost of honor -- a sacrifice made for a purpose somewhat outside herself. And so, she demanded only this, this final honor.

The Jawa had pluck, she'd grant him that, but he fought with machines, not wits. He made up for his size with guns and droids, not with pure determination. He was a fine fighter, but he was not her noble, worthy opponent. Death was not upholding its end of the deal! And so neither would Grizzelda.

"I'm g'na fight, dammit. And I ain't goin' easy," she muttered. The quiet sound of snapping stitches heralded the final stand of her burnt, tattered sleeve. The creek's cold water had seeped into her arm's hot flesh, easing it, but only a little. The most important thing now, was to get her leg to stop bleeding... All her running had loosed the shrapnel, leaving the wound open to ooze red life from her veins. She fingered the strip of fabric, and shaking hands tied a clumsy, but tight knot around her thigh.

The grenade still nestled comfortably in her palm, staring back at her with her own dirtied reflection. If this was her last stand, did she really want to face it with a grenade? Nah, she was a blaster girl. She always had been, and she always would be.

Grenade set aside, her palms circled around the grip. Its metal was still warm, but not hot, and the throbbing of her own blood in her palms made it seem almost... alive. It was a trusted companion, a faithful side-kick, and if she was going to die, she was going to die with it in her hand. Death wasn't honoring her, but she was honoring the blaster. Death'd see she could be the bigger man.

Shrill beeps and trills suddenly drew her head around, reeling in darkness for a moment after the sudden turn. Like the reveal in some prolific holodrama scene, her eyes focused to see the Jawa. Finally, with Grizzelda still slumped against the tree... they could see eye to eye.

"Hey Shorty," she rasped, past a dry mouth and a throbbing ache. The slightest smile twitched her lips as the Jawa shot his own droid, a swarm of sparks settling on the leaves below. "Aw," she crooned hoarsely, "He was just trying to help."

She focused her eyes on the hidden, glowing yellow of the Jawa. Her heart began to race again, adrenaline returning. The more she focused on those yellow eyes, the more her body saw Death, and the more her body fled from it. Her mind was not ready to go, and so the rest of her was going to fight just as hard. A sliver of pain faded away, while the blaster in her lap shook with the mingling charge and exhaustion.

Grizzelda's supposed omniscience smiled at the predictable ultimatum.

"This is your last chance. Surrender now or die," said the Jawa.

"Y'know," Grizzelda said slowly, conscious effort required to keep the air in her lungs, bellows feeding the fire of her voice, "You're a good fighter... Y' handled that droid well... But you're kriffing stupid... If you even have to ask."

Grizzelda raised her arms from her lap, the blaster more of a part of herself, than any weapon. She pulled the trigger once, then again, and again and again and again. Her arms were wrought as if with palsy, tremors flinging the bolts in unexpected, random directions. Through the flashes of red, she watched for the movement of the Jawa, spotting nothing more than vague brown blurs, but following these. Again and again the blaster fired, alighting the forest with the sound of its screaming voice. Stark red shadows lit the leaves around, but still, Grizzelda did not stop. Her normal reservation was evaporated, her aim deteriorated so far as to barely be able to hit the broad side of a barn, if she could even see it. Only death itself could still the fire, death or a spent power cell.

Maybe using the grenade would have been wiser. Maybe this battle would already be over. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But Grizzelda didn't care. She didn't care, because there was something satisfying about just opening up a blaster. Some aspect in the red flash of the light brought a satisfied, final grin to her face. The thought of draining a whole cell, just draining it, filled her with glee, and for a moment, she could maybe forget the pain. Her aim was wretched, but oh, she didn't really care. If the Force bid her live, then one would hit the Jawa. And if the Force bid her die, then she would die, but, sure as Hell, she was going to give the Force a tough time at it.