|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Jun 4, 2012 19:56:54 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jun 4, 2012 19:56:54 GMT -5
((This occurs prior to From All Corners of The Galaxy - Part 1))
Keren seemed a bit out of place in terms of the rest of Naboo. It was your standard trading city; speeders zipping about, constant sky traffic with ships ranging from shuttles to freighters, and the soft hum of a small city. It was no Corellia, but nevertheless Horst felt more at home there than he did in, say, Theed. He was never much for the rural world.
Horst sipped his coffee, looking out the window of the nice deli he had been invited to by his customer. The beverage was black of course, without any sugar or additive to speak of. It was bitter, strong, and pungent.
He sipped it again. Ahhhhhhhh.
Horst had never thought he would ever be seeing to peaceful world of Naboo in his career as galaxy-grade scum. To be completely honest, he had never even imagined Naboo having an underground to speak of; not until he was approached by man claiming otherwise on Rodia. Even then, Horst hadn't believed him, and yet here he sat digesting his conversation with his package's receiver.
The delivery had been pretty orthodox; a few illegal blasters to some crimelord (who turned out to look a lot more like a noble) and a payday of a whopping 25,000 credits. Horst never would have considered going somewhere so well organized and law-ruled as Naboo had it not been for that nice number of credits now sitting in his pocket. The entire planet smelled of police and civility, and even in Keren some type of law-enforcement was ever-present.
Horst was eager to leave; the cops made him nervous. It had been a while since he had run into any Republic soldiers or spoken to Sharpie, so he had no clue as to the status of his criminal record. That meant he could only assume the worst, drink quickly, and get the hell out of there before any one looked at him too hard.
His curiosity had once again gotten the better of him, however, and instead of making a bee line for the Night-Watch he was here, drinking and watching the day go by. His instinct was screaming at him to get off-world, but he ignored them, at least for now. This place was actually sort of peaceful, and it had been a while since Horst had just relaxed and taken in a view.
Besides, this is Naboo. Who ever suspects you of being a criminal on Naboo?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jun 4, 2012 20:38:08 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jun 4, 2012 20:38:08 GMT -5
Shakka Dawana was no longer a mere patrol officer on Alderaan. No, she'd risen from her roots there and had become a member of the Republic Security Forces, cracking down on all kinds of illegal acts.
She was a bona fide agent now.
The athletic orange Twi'lek might have even looked the part, in black slacks and a blazer, with those quintessential aviator sunglasses. Her blaster pistol was concealed in a shoulder holster, but her datapad was out and ready.
Displayed on it was the face of the man she was tasked with finding, Horst Stellar. Ex-Republic military, smuggler. Dangerous type of fellow. He was a big man, and scruffy, and she had no doubts that she could recognize him.
Intelligence suggested he was here on Naboo, in the city of Keren. He could have been in any window or any building, but Shakka knew better. He was across the street. They'd managed to tail him that far, and knew he was inside this block. She could even tell he was there, drinking coffee and minding his own business.
The Twi'lek woman rose from her own table and looked twice before crossing the street, boots carrying her into the diner and up to the counter where she nonchalantly ordered a soft drink and a sandwich. Through the corner of her eye, she watched her suspect until the food was delivered. When it was, she took it in hand and made her move.
A slender form slid into the seat across from Horst.
"Don't mind if I join you, do you? Hard to find room in here."
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Jun 4, 2012 21:04:49 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jun 4, 2012 21:04:49 GMT -5
Horst's nice little brunch was interrupted by an orange Twi'lek in aviator shades asking for a seat. Horst, in the middle of sipping his coffee, motioned toward the seat with his other hand, accompanying the gesture with a salutary "Mmhmm."
Hrm...
This lady wasn't here for the sake of sitting. Horst glanced casually at the rest of the dinner, cupping his coffee in his hands. The diner was relatively busy, but even from a quick scan there were one or two open tables available. That meant this lady was one of two things: unable to look around, or with an aim. Horst predicted the latter.
The smuggler acted casual, setting his coffee on a napkin and smiling. He looked over his new tablemate; she was younger than he, she had a vibrant skin tone, and her clothing screamed casual. He himself was only wearing a T-shirt, a vest, cargo pants and his tool belt. To be fair, she pulled off the outfit rather well.
"Not surprising it's crowded," Horst responded, maintaining his smile. "This place is best damn diner this side of Keren." The smuggler leaned back, pretending to relax and feel at home. The worst thing to do was to show your hand. Especially when you had no idea what kind of game the other side was playing.
Easy... Horst assured himself, trying to actually calm down. So far he had no reason to believe this Twi'lek was here to cause trouble. To the contrary she could have work for him, or maybe even just be seeking a conversation...
... even still...
Horst scooted to the right a bit, putting himself at a diagonal vantage with Ms. Sunglasses. He knew if it came to under-the-table shots he would still be in a bad way, but at least now it would be harder for her to conceal any movements. Horst scanned her, trying to read her body language.
"Come here often? I know a few of the regulars." If he could pull off his local routine, there was a chance, however slim, that it might just the following conversation easier. Beyond that, the question might make her spill a bean or two, giving the vet the advantage.
In the words of Rorry, "damned be the unprepared."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jun 4, 2012 21:28:12 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jun 4, 2012 21:28:12 GMT -5
Shakka smiled thinly, covering her own concern. She could read this man, and he was nervous. He was looking for some angle, and the orange Twi'lek agent had no intention of tipping her hand. Yet. She'd let slip what needed to be let slip precisely when it was appropriate, and not before then.
He slid to a diagonal from her, vindicating her read on him. Yes, he was nervous. Now if she were to aim under the table at him, she'd have to do it an angle with no way of telling how successful it would be. A simple defensive gesture, and one that she was inclined to let stand.
The Republic Agent chuckled audibly at Horst's attempt to pass himself off as a local. That was a clever ploy, trying to become another person. It wasn't exactly honest, but what did one expect of a smuggler.
"I'm going to level with you Mr. Stellar, you're not a local. You should really try to stick to being the war vet smuggler. Suits you better than the local mechanic, or whatever it is you would have tried selling me on."
Shakka took a big bite of the sandwich and chewed it over casually. For her, this was all an exercise in maintaining your cool. You had to maintain control, and manage the direction it flowed. This was the way an interrogation worked. And she had every intention of extracting information from him.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Jun 4, 2012 21:51:29 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jun 4, 2012 21:51:29 GMT -5
Horst sighed. He had never been much of an actor, and it really was a wonder why he tried to use his poor skill so much. It never worked with anyone more alert than a drunken infantryman or a semi-sober merc.
"Hmph. Guess I should be honored they didn't send an amateur," Horst replied, dropping his poor disguise. In a way, this was easier; he knew just what to expect now. No intricate thinking, no maintaining an elaborate hoax, and for once, no lying. Just simple confrontation, direct action, and at the end of the day, one of two very simple outcomes:
victory or defeat.
"Fine then. I hate playing charades."
Horst actually let out a breath of relaxation, allowing his back to slump more into his chair. He knew being this relaxed could be lethal, but being in a fight that was closer to his field of expertise was actually rather comforting; an odd thought that made him smile. He looked at his adversary with a dead-set eye; she had just invited him into his own house of experience.
"So let's hear it; what have you got on me nowadays?" Horst sipped his coffee again, noting the contents were almost gone. He waved over to a waitress, who smiled and pointed to the cup. He nodded, and sat quietly and smiling as his next cup of black coffee was poured. The waitress departed with a comfortable smile, unaware of the developing situation occurring in her diner.
The smuggler started guessing, listing the past offenses he could remember. "Desertion of the military, leak of military intelligence, abandonment of a fellow officer..."
Horst sat, starring down at this agent. Nevermind that they never got their facts straight. Horst tried not to become angry; it was always fun when a government you served for years accused you of abandoning your best friend.
"I'm sure my record has got its own cabinet by this point."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jun 5, 2012 15:19:49 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jun 5, 2012 15:19:49 GMT -5
"I wouldn't really know about that," Shakka said around her sandwich as she leaned back in the chair. "You see, I'm not in the military."
An orange hand slowly reached into her pocket and produced a gold badge with three letters and a number on it. She slid it halfway across the table and tapped it.
"RSF. Republic army doesn't really talk to me. All I know about you is this concise little file, and it says words like smuggling and contraband. In fact, I'm pretty sure you're carrying some of it right now."
Shakka set down the sandwich and sipped the drink before continuing, cool as could be. Of course she felt on edge in her heart, but this was a matter of acting a show of confidence would serve her well, and the longer she could delay him the more time it would give others to form a perimeter.
"Now you see, you are surrounded, and you can't make it out. So why don't you just play nicely and come out from the chair and hand over your loot. Then I'll take you outside nice and quiet, and we take a little trip. If you play ball, then maybe it doesn't have to get ugly."
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Jun 5, 2012 15:53:34 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jun 5, 2012 15:53:34 GMT -5
Horst looked at the badge the Twi'lek put forward with mild surprise. In his years of running, he had never expected RSF to come after him, at least not without some bigger guns. It could just be that he was in domestic Republic space...
"RSF, eh? Doesn't former Spec-Ops mean anything any more?" Horst laughed once of twice, solidifying his enjoyment of his treatment. He knew the RSF; they were no pushovers. Frankly, the RSF could teach Spec-Ops a thing or two about discretion. But even as elite trained agents, these folks weren't soldiers. Soldiers had to learn to sacrifice and how to deal with the inevitable; RSF was all about trying to avoid sacrifice and deter the inevitable.
The orange agent then casually laid out an ultimatum; the diner was surrounded, his shipment was being confiscated, and he was supposed to simply shut up and take it all with a pinch of salt as they dragged him away in handcuffs. Horst thought it sounded wonderful... except for the part with everything going down like he was just going to let it all slide.
"I'm not sure about that," Horst responded, releasing his coffee mug and clasping his hands together on the table. "See, I rather like not being in custody." The smuggler took a peek out of the window, half scanning for bystanders and the nonchalant signs of these supposed agents, and half considering putting forward his defense. In the end it would matter little; all the evidence pointed toward his guilt, and his word and the words of a few other witnesses could easily be disregarded by the courts. This lady wasn't about to let him go for being a heart-string either. After all, she was neither the judge nor the jury; just a soldier taking orders.
"Beyond that, I doubt you've got the place surrounded. If you did, why would you be sitting her talking to me when you could be doing things the simple way?" The question was a challenge; he had no idea if the building was really surrounded, but he didn't intend to show his hand.
The smuggler stood up, retrieving his wallet and laying a few credits down. Even if he was about to be arrested, he wasn't going to just walk out with this orange woman and be quiet about it.
If she wants me, she'd better be prepared to fight about it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jun 5, 2012 22:32:45 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jun 5, 2012 22:32:45 GMT -5
Shakka placed a toothpick casually between her teeth and stared across the street through a plate glass window. There was her partner, arrived finally. He waved a hand to her and spoke to his wrist, and promptly his voice came through the device in her ear.
Just a few more minutes Dawana.
He expressed skepticism and she realized that he wasn't buying it. And it was true that, while not entirely surrounded, there were still a half dozen agents and police officers outside. He wasn't going to make this easy. She took back her badge and opened her mouth to speak.
"You're not making this easy for either of us. Why don't you just-"
He stood up and laid down credit chits onto the table. Obviously he thought it was time to go. Well, he thought wrong.
Like the lightning she was named for in Ryl, her hand darted to the inside of her jacket and came out with her Enforcer blaster pistol, the cool weight of it in her hand practically brimming with power. At the same time, she yelled out in her best command voice.
"Horst Stellar, you are bound by law!"
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Jun 6, 2012 15:54:58 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jun 6, 2012 15:54:58 GMT -5
Horst starred down the last bargaining chip in a deck of negotiation; the barrel of a gun. The smuggler was surprised it had come to this so soon; he knew it was a direct result of his provocation, but even still, he would have been less surprised if she had tried saying something else.
I've proven her wrong though, and that's worth it. That was important; the sooner he could slip away, the less prepared any potential back-up would be. Vice versa, time was on her side; the longer this went on for, the better positioned her friends would be.
"Hey, that's my move," Horst responded, re-pocketing his wallet. He had honestly supposed that he would be the one pulling guns here; the fact that she was doing it first amused him. RSF always had this air of completing tasks without weaponry. When the situation demanded guns, that was when the military usually showed up.
Not today I guess.
Horst brought up his hands slightly, not allowing them to rise beyond his lower ribs. Right now he was too far away to disarm this agent, and too close to try and get out of her line of fire. At it stood, she had the advantage. On the other hand, Horst had forced her hand, and all that it revealed. She must have been rather desperate to be putting up a "civilian" at gunpoint.
Horst glanced around. The crowd in the diner had begun to take notice, and with a few startled screams at the sign of a blaster, most of the diners were retreating from the developing situation. The smuggler was glad; he would never be able to live down this lady getting nervous and sending a bolt meant for him into someone bystander.
The RSF agent asserted one demand; that he, Horst Stellar, was bound by the law.
"The last time I was bound by the law, I was accused of killing my best friend." The smuggler rested his hand on his own blaster, showing two could play this game. He took a step back.
"I suggest you come up with a better plan of taking me in, because right now the best you'll bring back is a corpse."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jun 8, 2012 18:06:25 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jun 8, 2012 18:06:25 GMT -5
Shakka watched tensely as a hand strayed to the handle of a blaster, and debated blowing this guy's head off his shoulders just for touching it. As tempting as that was though, she was supposed to get him alive. And her blaster had no stun setting. Killing him wasn't her preference, but he should have known he was making a dumb move.
"Draw that blaster and you will be a corpse. Neither of us wants that, especially not you."
Her peripheral vision noticed the crowd thinning, and the interior deserted. It was just the two of them.
"Talk to me here. You want to prove your innocence, right? How can you do that if you're dead?"
It wasn't a tactic she was comfortable with, but the longer it went on the better it was for the good guys, and maybe he'd say something valuable to boot.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Jun 8, 2012 23:22:22 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jun 8, 2012 23:22:22 GMT -5
Horst watched his opponent with unbroken focus, only pausing to look peripherally out of the window, again searching the crowd for any reinforcement. The crowd outside was now beginning to take notice of the situation as the diners funneled out of the establishment in a panic. Sooner than later the entire city would be huddled around within a 5 block radius, and Horst was sure the authorities, including whatever back-up this Twi'lek had commissioned, would soon be on site.
I need to get the hell out of here.
Horst held his hand on his blaster, not convinced to let go. The smuggler was worth nothing dead, and that meant any law enforcement would try its best to take him in alive. In short, his life was the item of interest here. And he held it in his hands.
"You say that like I can prove my innocence alive," Horst responded, his mind racing. He meant it honestly, but by this point it was just talk. He had two very basic options; flee or fight. He couldn't flee without being shot in a non-lethal location, and he couldn't fight without being shot in a non-lethal (or potentially lethal) location.
That left one very, very stupid and very, very dangerous card on the table.
"But I guess you're right," Horst sighed, exasperated. Truly, the whole thing was exhausting. "I know enough to see that this can't keep going on forever." The smuggler then motioned toward the window with his non-blaster hand. "I'll bet there's a sniper in that window across the way, a few guys in civvie clothing on the street, and hey, maybe a heavy-arms unit ready to breach the backdoor?" Horst sighed again.
"Here." The smuggler drew his blaster and held it in his open palm. The Livland he had bought on Mandalore seemed to have been such a good companion over the last year or so, Horst was almost sad to see it out of its place. But, like all things, it had to make sacrifices. Softening his look, the smuggler kept his palm open, stepping forward slightly to come just within arm-reach of the Twilek. He extended his arm, and offered up the weapon.
Sometimes you had to swallow your pride. "Take it."
Still other times, you had to make sure your other hand was at the ready for the stupidest attempt at freedom ever made as you tried to beat the clock. The life of a soldier was one of sacrifice, whether it was pride or sanity; both could hinder you on the field of battle.
((OOC: Here goes nuthin'!))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jun 13, 2012 15:27:30 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jun 13, 2012 15:27:30 GMT -5
Shakka Dawana’s finger lightly touched the trigger of her blaster as she saw the pivotal moment at hand, the drawing of a weapon for good or ill. She hadn’t anticipated this being easy, and she was wary of some trick or stunt. No one ever liked to come quietly it seemed, and this wasn’t Alderaan where rulebreakers by and large felt remorse and the need to surrender.
And she hadn’t been that persuasive.
Ever so slowly, the orange Twi’lek shifted her hold on her blaster and freed her left hand. Then she reached out to take the proffered weapon and draw it to her. All the while, her eyes never left the human man.
She didn’t trust him, and she had no reason to.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Jun 13, 2012 22:18:37 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jun 13, 2012 22:18:37 GMT -5
Horst hardened his face as the RSF agent reached out for his gun. She wasn't buying it, and the sheer look of steel she was putting out convinced Horst that she truly didn't trust him as far as she could throw him. That was fine by him; he wasn't after her trust.
He was after her hand.
The agent reached for the blaster. Horst proceeded to execute the single stupidest plan he had ever pulled in his entire life.
The smuggler turned his hand side-ways, allowing the miniature metal killing device to be pulled down by gravity. In the same motion, Horst darted his hand forward, aiming to close his fingers about the agent's hand. If he could get a grip, he could could gain control.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jun 20, 2012 12:47:46 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jun 20, 2012 12:47:46 GMT -5
The man grabbed Shakka by the wrist as his blaster clattered to the floor, pulled down by gravity. The orange Twi'lek, as a response, brought her knee rocketing up towards the man's stomach, with the added momentum of him pulling her.
Of course she was being generous. Her blaster was still in her hand, but she wasn't using it. This was one man she wanted captured alive. Dead perps were all fine and well, but she wanted to impress.
Her career could use this boost.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Jun 20, 2012 14:00:13 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jun 20, 2012 14:00:13 GMT -5
Horst heaved with all his might as his hand wrapped around the agent's wrist. The Twi'lek moved forward under the force, but not before bringing her knee up on a collision course with the smuggler's stomach.
Oof! Horst resisted the urge to throw up. The Twi'lek may have been one of his smaller combatants over the years, but a knee to the stomach was still a knee to the stomach. The smuggler bent slightly before doing his best to reign in the pain.
No time for pain, keep moving. The Twi'lek was close to Horst now, and that meant he had a chance to lock her out. Side-stepping as she came inward, Horst extended his other arm out toward the Twi'lek's waist, aiming to grab her body and lift her up entirely. If he could get her off the ground, he could see about getting off the planet.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jun 24, 2012 15:26:50 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jun 24, 2012 15:26:50 GMT -5
The human man got a hold of Shakka and picked her up into the air, but she didn't let that faze her one bit. She kept her calm, and treated this like any other fight.
She had to get control, quick.
The orange Twi'lek swung her legs up and then clamped them together, hopefully around Horst's neck, to bring him down in a wrestling move with the strongest part of her body.
This was, in her opinion, not a good day. But there was still a chance it would go her way.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Jun 25, 2012 14:11:33 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jun 25, 2012 14:11:33 GMT -5
Horst's arm latched about the Twi'lek's waist with surprising ease, and with another grunt, the agent was off the ground a good foot. Horst checked his combatant's hand for her weapon; it was still there, but she didn't seem to be trying to use it.
Well what do you know. They really do want me ali-
The Twi'lek, in an acrobatic display Horst was impressed by, swung up both her legs and latched them about the smuggler's neck. As the muscles squeezed his windpipe, Horst's grip weakened as he let go of the Twi'lek's hand in exchange for trying to loosen the woman's grip.
As he tried to ease her grip, the Twi'lek gave a heave herself, attempting to bring the smuggler down in a wrestling move Horst was pretty sure he had seen on the Holonet once or twice. The smuggler's mind raced as his feet succumbed to the pull and he lost his balance.
Go with it. Horst did his best to fall forward, bringing his arm off the Twi'lek's waist and using it to form an elbow right in front of her stomach. The fall would bring them both to the ground, smuggler on top, and the force would drive the elbow deep into her abdomen. If it worked.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jun 26, 2012 19:59:40 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jun 26, 2012 19:59:40 GMT -5
Shakka was left with a very narrow window in which to act, but she knew something more important than mere instinct had to win out. His elbow was going to drive straight into her stomach and knock the wind out of her if she didn't find a way to disengage. But luckily his arm had left her waist...
The Republic agent let go with her legs and slid off the side like an eel, hitting the floor independently, and letting her momentum carry her into a roll, her pistol miraculously still in hand. However, she did bump into a chair and knock it over onto herself, causing a slight delay in the time it took to regain her footing.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Jun 22, 2023 19:35:57 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Jun 26, 2012 22:28:51 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jun 26, 2012 22:28:51 GMT -5
The Twi'lek acted fast, and before Horst could try to hold her in place, she was gone and his elbow was smashing into the tiles below him. Horst managed to tuck his arm, keeping the limb from being crushed by his own body.
That said, the smuggler crashed into the floor rather loudly. Horst's jaw clenched in time for his face to smash into the bottom of the diner, producing a sickening noise from the smuggler's nose. The engineer grunted in pain, but didn't allow the injury to distract him from the matter at hand.
Horst brought out his tucked arm and pushed his torso off the floor. He turned his head, allowing some of the blood coming from his nose to drip onto the tiles. The Twi'lek had rolled into a chair, and while she was up-and-coming, the furniture was hindering her.
Horst knew an opportunity when he saw one. Helping himself up with one arm, the smuggler reached down to his belt. In silence, he cursed himself for forgetting about his revolver; the multi-kilogram hunt of durasteel that had been strapped to his hip this entire time. His fingers fumbling to undo the latch, Horst managed to release the weapon's restraints, finally wrapping his hand around the hilt and drawing it, hoping to what forces may be that he wouldn't be too slow.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jun 30, 2012 15:05:29 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jun 30, 2012 15:05:29 GMT -5
In perfect unison, as if they were choreographed dancers or some extraordinarily odd pair of synchronized swimmers, Shakka and Horst both pulled out their weapons. A revolver was pointed at the Twi’lek, and a blaster at the human.
With the grappling over, this was winding down. The RSF agent knew when it was about to hit the fan, and the bird was definitely hovering in the air. She could feel the beating of its wings.
”Now look Horst, you’re playing a dangerous game here. One squeeze of the trigger and we’re both done for. If I do it first, you’re gone. If you shoot me, then ten more agents are after you. And you know what? Penalty for killing an agent is death. Right now you could plead down, get off early for good behavior. You squeeze that trigger and you’ll never be a free man again. Now drop the gun.
|
|
|
|