Operation Righteous Cowboy Lightning II [Oatara]

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

Horst and Ethan tumbled out through the doorway, brawling in the bloody way men were so fond of. Ervisa would have rolled her eyes had she been less pissed off, but all that passed through her mind was an irate anger at the childish behavior of both of them.

Anger, and also sadness.

The Mirialan woman couldn't help but think this was her fault. If she hadn't come between them, the two friends might have been bonding over a few drinks, and instead they were beating the shit out of each other with their bare hands.

Ervisa could sense a small crowd forming, and she hurriedly pulled on her tank top, leaving behind her boots and her corset as she pulled on her gunbelt and her lightsaber, trying to figure out a course of action. She was quite torn over what exactly to do, and it showed in the look on her face.

However, no one was watching the doubts and fears playing out on her angular, green face. All attention was on Horst and Ethan slugging it out, and that left her with a window in which to select one of two convenient options that flashed into her mind.

Option A. Fight. Step outside and beat down Ethan and Horst, convincing them both to stop their retarded fight and act like adults. The rewards? Maintaining the status quo, fixing the damage she'd caused.

Option B. Flight. While everyone was looking the other way, she could head to the airfield, get in her bird, and fly to Waypoint. There she'd use her money to book passage going anywhere as soon as possible, and she'd try finding another piloting job, or maybe go back to drifting. Rewards? With her gone, Horst and Ethan would get over their fight and get back to normal, and she wouldn't have to deal with the fallout.

For the Mirialan, it was an easy choice.

Hurriedly she exited in stocking feet and jogged off to the airfield, flinging herself into the pilot's seat of her bird and firing up the engines. The rotors started turning immediately and within seconds the throaty roar of the engines drowned out everything else. She lifted off and began the long flight to Waypoint, trying hard not to think.

Yup, Ervisa was doing what Ervisa did best, running away from her problems. It was hard to think there'd been a day when she'd stood eye to eye with them and fought it out. Now all she wanted was to avoid conflict, to get along with everyone and everything, to simply live life. And instead something always came up and she had to leave.

It was just easier for everyone this way.

With her out of the picture, everyone else would survive, and things would improve. If she stayed, it was going to come up again. So really it was simple; her cowardice was going to be best for everyone.

Five hours later Ervisa had landed and bought herself passage to Taris, picked up a new pair of boots, eaten a somber breakfast, and by 1PM had departed Oatara on the only flight headed out of the city on that particular day.

As far as she was concerned, it was over.

[Ghostie]

Horst grabbed Ethan around his neck and yanked him, pulling the Mandalorian up. Horst flipped Ethan over his shoulder, and Ethan landed on the ground on facing upward with a loud thud. Ethan was stunned for a moment, he heard yelling, and it wasn't coming from Horst.

The Engineer grabbed the Captain around the neck again, this time so that they were face to face. Horst slammed Ethan against the wall. The bigger man proceeded to wish Ethan had a good night, as he was threatening that the Mandalorian will never breath right again.

It was then that Quincy along with two other officers, two of the LeFro'a Brothers, pulled Horst off of Ethan. A Trandoshan and the Offshoot Communications Officer from The Verada caught the Mandalorian.

Despite having three people trying to hold him back, Horst was able to get one good punch in still. Ethan saw it coming, as the others tried to stop it. He braced for the impact, but it never came. Horst ended up hitting the Offshoot instead. She went down instantly, clutching her side.

“WHATS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Ethan shook off the Trandoshan and headed for his room. What had crawled into Horst? His best friend and second in command was now having a no-holes-barred fight with him in the middle of the Spearpoint Officers Quarters for all to see. Ethan couldn't think of anything he had done in the past twenty-four hours to deserve such treatment.

Then it click. Horst hoped Ethan had a good night with Ervisa before threatening him. There had to be no reason for Horst coming to see him at four in the morning. Well, then, it wasn't about what he did but rather who he did. Pointing at the Offshoot Ethan gave a command to the Trandoshan.

“Take care of her!”

Standing at the entrance to his room, Ethan talked over his shoulder to Horst. His voice was low now, no longer yelling to match the Engineer's own. Instead it was more serious, somber tone. One that Ethan hoped he never had to use with Horst.

<<You better go after your damn girlfriend, Aruetii.>> “If you're here after I get out of this room, you're dead.”

Aruetii. It was the worst thing Ethan could come up with at the moment. It was a Mandalorian word that people in the military didn't usually want to hear. It meant outsider, or traitor. Something Ethan felt about Horst after his assault.

Ethan keyed the door closed and locked it, and then looked around the room. The bed was still a mess, and Ervisa had forgotten her boots and corset. Ethan left them where they laid, and instead went over to the desk. He proceeded to straighten it up, putting all the papers back on the surface and replacing the lamp.

Then get got to the picture frame. The picture of Ethan and Corana dancing. He started at it for a moment with a frown, and then chucked it across the room in a fit of rage. The rest of the frame broke against the wall, and the picture floated down to the floor.

Damn Ervisa, damn Horst. Damn them all!

Ethan went to the closet and opened it up. Inside, hanging up was his beskar'garm, his rifle, his beskad, and his pistol. The armor hid some clothes in the back. But none of that was what Ethan was after. On the top shelf was a couple of glasses and a bottle of some of the finest Corellian Rum.

Ethan grabbed a glass and the rum, and flopped down on the sofa. He definitely wasn't doing anything, or anyone, else today.

[Fromikeable]

As more hands grabbed him and pulled him back from Ethan, Horst shot out his punch toward Ethan's gut. An officer, the woman Ethan had on the Verada by the looks of it, moved in front of him as he sent the blow downrange. As his hand slammed into her ribs, he thought he heard a small crack before she fell to the floor. By that point Quincy and Mike and Zike LeFro'a had their grips and were firmly holding the hulking Commnader back, struggle though he might.

That seemed to piss off Ethan, and the rage's sting wore off a little in Horst. He was hurting people now? Why in the hell was he doing that? That made no sense. Sure, most of the time he vented his emotions physically, whether is was slaps on the back, giant hugs, or mean punches.

But those things usually let the emotions out. These punches he was throwing though... they didn't. If anything each of them was making him angrier. At what? Everything, the highlights being himself for being such a convoluted moron, Ethan for not snapping him out of it, and Ervisa for bringing him into his idiocy in the first place.

Then there was that word. Aruetii. That brought Horst to a sobering realization, the likes of which killed the murderous look on his face and ceased his struggling.

Ethan hadn't known, had he? Ervisa sure as hell hadn't told him, and beyond that she was probably the first woman he'd been with in months. He was a decent guy who was simply the most direct punching bag available.

Because Horst sure as hell didn't want to hit Ervisa. Come to think of it he wished he had just talked to her instead of bashing in his best friend's face. Why hadn't he just calmed the hell down?!

Horst sighed, visibly collapsing a little as his rage drained out of him. 'Cause I'm an idiot. He'd just spoiled two relationships with one punch.

And with the slam of Moreill's door, Horst was left standing in the hallway being held by three men looking at an innocent victim of his rage while being looked at by a good number of SP officers.

Oh, and silence. Lots and lots of dead air.

Finally Horst stood up a little, Mike, Zike, and Quincy loosening their grip. Slowly the officers retreated back to their rooms, probably all thinking about how much of an ass their Commander was or maybe just about how much they needed to get in some more sleep by the bugle tomorrow.

Horst, meanwhile, stood still for a moment as his ability to rationalize returned. He felt bad for Ethan, and he felt bad for the Offshoot, but more than that he noticed something really quite important.

Ervisa was gone.

"She went that way... sir." Zike spoke up, obviously reading Horst like a book. The way he emphasized the last word gave Horst the impression that his cronies weren't exactly overjoyed with the way he'd acted, but as he quickly prioritized he walked quickly out the way Zike had pointed, figuring that if they still liked him enough to point him in the right direction they were still at the point at which some time apart would do them all some good.

Horst searched the camp high and low, using what tracking skills he'd picked up in Spec. Ops. to his advantage. Even still there was no sign of Ervisa, and when Horst finally arrived at the hangars again he was becoming a bit alarmed. If she'd skipped the base...

"Ike! Get out here!" Horst hollered as he walked back into the hangar. Ike appeared from behind the same chopper Horst had been working on earlier tonight with his Zeltron face smeared in grease and sweat. He looked on curiously. "Yes?"

"Ya' see that green chick again? The hot one that was with tha' Captain?" Horst asked with an urgent tone, and Ike scurried up, rubbing his chin. "Ummmmmm, let me check the flight logs Commander." Ike slipped out of the hangar and returned in a dash with a datapad loaded with a list of base departures. "The log wasn't filled out by the looks of it, but someone took one of the choppers out about an hour ago according to fligh- Sir? What're you doing?"

Horst clambered into the cockpit of the one of the fighters in the shop for repairs. He'd already worked on it yesterday; it's targeting computer was fried, but the thing flew just fine. Settling into the pilot's seat, Horst flipped a few switches, firing up the engines.

"Hey! You can't fly that thing!"

Horst remembered Ike again. He'd forgotten, it seemed. Then he remembered the hangar door. He shouted, "Get tha' door Le'Froa!"

Ike looked incredulous. "What?! Absolutely not! That ship isn't ready, you haven't signed it out! What's WITH you to-"

"Ike! Either you open that door or I do!"

Ike connected the dots pretty quickly on that one. The targeting computer might not have been working, but the guns sure were. Dashing toward the console, Ike opened the door, and the fighter came roaring out. Ike sighed as he watched it go, hoping that both it and its pilot would come back soon.