jeriendhal (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jeriendhal) wrote2009-10-28 06:19 pm
jeriendhal) wrote2009-10-28 06:19 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Altered Trajectory (cont.)
Well it took a while, but I knew had an action sequence coming up and I didn't want to cut it into pieces for the sake of daily installments.
“Outside boys,” Bird called loudly. At her call, Urgal reentered the bar from his station outside, tapping his shock stick suggestively. The galapagos turned towards the door, frowning, while the drunk human smiled behind his back. The other patrons, used to seeing this kind of game, did nothing to dissuade them from heading towards the door.
“Bird,” Rufus hissed urgently, “you know perfectly well what’s going to happen next. As soon as the big fellow gets outside that so-called drunk and six of his burly friends are going to beat him senseless for whatever spare cash he’s got on his person.”
“So long as he does it outside my bar, I really don’t care,” Bird said coolly.
“Thank you, Bird. I retract my earlier offer. You’re a true citizen of Bolt Hole,” Rufus growled, stalking towards the door, Hazel following.
“Hey, I was born here!” Bird called after them.
* * *
When Rufus stepped outside he found the scenario unfolding as he’d predicted. The galapagos, unconcerned for his personal safety in the face of a threat amounting to one drunk human, had been unprepared for the half-dozen quite sober and well armed bravos waiting for him.
Then again, the bravos hadn’t been prepared for a two meter tall, heavily muscled slab of irritated lizard. Two of them were slumped up against the wall already and third flew over Hazel’s head as she ducked, landing at Urgal’s feet.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to lend a hand?” she shouted at the bouncer.
“Ain’t my job,” he answered serenely, leaning against the wall as if he was watching a particularly entertaining show. Actually that was the reaction of the entire street really, with a couple of enterprising individuals taking bets on the outcome. The galapados was leaning against the wall now, surrounded, his face twisted in pain as his left arm hung limp, having taken a blow from a shock stick that would have laid a smaller individual out on the ground.
Rufus pulled out his plasma pistol from its holster, firing a shot over the heads of the bravos that struck and melted a small crater in the bar’s stone wall. “All right! Drop your weapons and back away from the tall green fellow!” he shouted. Beside him, Hazel drew her own weapon, while someone in the crowd let out a groan as their bet was invalidated.
The effect was gratifying. The three remaining bravos and their “drunken” companion, all armed with knifes and shock sticks, turned to face him, surprise on their faces as their sport was interrupted. “Ain’t your fight, vulp,” the drunk growled.
“I’m making it my fight. Go roll an easier mark for your drinking money. I’ve got business with this fellow.”
“Sorry, vulp. So do we,” the drunk said. He made a gesture with his hand and a small pocket sized pistol dropped into his palm from some hidden sleeve holster. Rufus dodged to the right as the man fired, feeling his ear blister as a wave of superheated plasma missed it by less than a centimeter. Hazel dropped one of his companions with her own weapon as the remaining two drew pistols from their coats and took cover behind the burned out remains of a ground car parked halfway up the sidewalk.
“Fruit, fruit, FRUIT! Grab some cover, Hazel!” Rufus dodged back to the narrow cover offered by Bird’s doorway, while Hazel dropped flat to the ground as the gathered crowd scattered for cover. He fired off another shot, which struck and melted part of the destroyed ground car’s chassis. Hazel rolled on the ground, dodging a shot that melted the section of sidewalk where she’d been laying, She fired off a couple of un-aimed shots, making the group’s leader duck his head down.
At that point the galapagos, who had been temporarily forgotten by his attackers when Rufus had confronted them, calmly pushed himself off the wall, grabbed the leader by the collar of his jacket, and slammed his head down into the sidewalk. One of the two remaining humans turned to try and fire on him, but Rufus caught him with a shot to the back of the head, dropping him to the ground. The last one Hazel nailed in the chest, firing through the remnants of the ground car’s windscreen.
“Oh, frell,” she breathed, rising up onto her knees, shaking, eyes wide in post combat shock. “I just killed him. Two hims. Oh, my goddess!”
“I should point out that… they were trying their best… to kill you,” Rufus huffed. He waved his gun the general direction of the returning crowd, discouraging them from stripping the bodies just yet.
“What the frell were they doing with guns when they had shock sticks before?” she demanded.
“An interesting question,” the galapagos rumbled, his face a study in pain as he clenched his left hand into a fist, trying to bring back sensation to his arm. “My thanks for your assistance, vulpine.”
“I think I have the answer,” Rufus said, pulling out a wad credit notes from the leader’s pocket. His head had cracked open messily when the galapados had thrown him to the ground. The first three to go down in combat with the large lizard man were still alive though, moaning and semi-conscious. “They weren’t after money, they were after him, under the pretense of a simple mugging. Though I seriously doubt they were muggers. Then we intervened and escalated the situation, so they were forced to break cover”
“Professionals?” Hazel asked, her breathing returning to normal.
“Most likely.” Rufus turned towards the galapados, holding out his hand after holstering his weapon. “Forgive my manners, sir. Ru Ofanius Brushtail of Vulpine Prime, at your service.”
The galapados took it gravely and shook it. “Narod Drisden, of the Galapagos.” He gestured towards the bodies on the ground. “You suspect this is not a simple assault?”
“I suspect we are going to be in a great deal more trouble if we remain in the area. If these are agents of the Human Confederation as I think they were, there will be a backup team in the area. If these fellows had biomonitor implants, then that team is vectoring in on this position right now.”
“Right, we’re leaving!” Hazel said, grabbing Drisden’s good arm and attempting to drag him back towards the alley where their motorbike was parked. She would have had more luck pulling a tree trunk along. “Hey, come on!”
Drisden stood his ground. “And why should going with you be appreciably safer than facing confrontation with these individuals’ compatriots? I do not know you, madam.”
“We represent the government of Vulpine Prime,” Rufus said quickly, marking the time elapsed in his head. Too much time, even allowing that the backup team would have to make their way through the same crowded streets that his company would. “We wish, very emphatically, to open peaceful diplomatic relations with the Dominion. I have met your Wise Master, Adminstrator Gisko and the three humans that advise him. I want very much to meet with them again, as soon as can be arranged.”
Drisden considered that for a long moment. Then, finally, he nodded. “I will take you to them.”
“Ah, I had in mind you coming back with us to our ship while you contacted them. For safety’s sake.”
“Not safe for me,” Drisden rumbled, disengaging his arm from Hazel’s grip. “Come along if you wish. Otherwise give me a radio frequency to contact you on. My orders do not permit me to surrender myself to foreign nationals.”
Rufus bit his lip, conscious of the time slipping away. He dared not attempt to coerce Drisden into acompanying them to the Falcon Claw. That would be a horribly bad start to diplomatic relations with the Dominion. On the other hand, now that they had been lucky enough to contact a Dominion representative, he was loathe to let him out of his sight. “All right,” he said. “We’ll go with you. I presume you have a safe place to hide?”
“Yes. Come with me.” With that, Drisden drew his cloak over his head and headed down the street.
Rufus headed back to their parked motorbike, stepping over the unconscious body of a would be a bike thief, pulling out his comset as he settled himself over the seat, Hazel taking station behind him again. “Rufus to Mac, are you there?”
Mac here. Haven't you ever heard of operational security? I don't care if these units are encrypted, you're not suppose to use this channel unless it's important.
“Oh, it's important all right,” Rufus said.
Like what?
He kicked the motorbike into gear. “Well, I've got some good news and some bad news....”
TBC
“Outside boys,” Bird called loudly. At her call, Urgal reentered the bar from his station outside, tapping his shock stick suggestively. The galapagos turned towards the door, frowning, while the drunk human smiled behind his back. The other patrons, used to seeing this kind of game, did nothing to dissuade them from heading towards the door.
“Bird,” Rufus hissed urgently, “you know perfectly well what’s going to happen next. As soon as the big fellow gets outside that so-called drunk and six of his burly friends are going to beat him senseless for whatever spare cash he’s got on his person.”
“So long as he does it outside my bar, I really don’t care,” Bird said coolly.
“Thank you, Bird. I retract my earlier offer. You’re a true citizen of Bolt Hole,” Rufus growled, stalking towards the door, Hazel following.
“Hey, I was born here!” Bird called after them.
* * *
When Rufus stepped outside he found the scenario unfolding as he’d predicted. The galapagos, unconcerned for his personal safety in the face of a threat amounting to one drunk human, had been unprepared for the half-dozen quite sober and well armed bravos waiting for him.
Then again, the bravos hadn’t been prepared for a two meter tall, heavily muscled slab of irritated lizard. Two of them were slumped up against the wall already and third flew over Hazel’s head as she ducked, landing at Urgal’s feet.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to lend a hand?” she shouted at the bouncer.
“Ain’t my job,” he answered serenely, leaning against the wall as if he was watching a particularly entertaining show. Actually that was the reaction of the entire street really, with a couple of enterprising individuals taking bets on the outcome. The galapados was leaning against the wall now, surrounded, his face twisted in pain as his left arm hung limp, having taken a blow from a shock stick that would have laid a smaller individual out on the ground.
Rufus pulled out his plasma pistol from its holster, firing a shot over the heads of the bravos that struck and melted a small crater in the bar’s stone wall. “All right! Drop your weapons and back away from the tall green fellow!” he shouted. Beside him, Hazel drew her own weapon, while someone in the crowd let out a groan as their bet was invalidated.
The effect was gratifying. The three remaining bravos and their “drunken” companion, all armed with knifes and shock sticks, turned to face him, surprise on their faces as their sport was interrupted. “Ain’t your fight, vulp,” the drunk growled.
“I’m making it my fight. Go roll an easier mark for your drinking money. I’ve got business with this fellow.”
“Sorry, vulp. So do we,” the drunk said. He made a gesture with his hand and a small pocket sized pistol dropped into his palm from some hidden sleeve holster. Rufus dodged to the right as the man fired, feeling his ear blister as a wave of superheated plasma missed it by less than a centimeter. Hazel dropped one of his companions with her own weapon as the remaining two drew pistols from their coats and took cover behind the burned out remains of a ground car parked halfway up the sidewalk.
“Fruit, fruit, FRUIT! Grab some cover, Hazel!” Rufus dodged back to the narrow cover offered by Bird’s doorway, while Hazel dropped flat to the ground as the gathered crowd scattered for cover. He fired off another shot, which struck and melted part of the destroyed ground car’s chassis. Hazel rolled on the ground, dodging a shot that melted the section of sidewalk where she’d been laying, She fired off a couple of un-aimed shots, making the group’s leader duck his head down.
At that point the galapagos, who had been temporarily forgotten by his attackers when Rufus had confronted them, calmly pushed himself off the wall, grabbed the leader by the collar of his jacket, and slammed his head down into the sidewalk. One of the two remaining humans turned to try and fire on him, but Rufus caught him with a shot to the back of the head, dropping him to the ground. The last one Hazel nailed in the chest, firing through the remnants of the ground car’s windscreen.
“Oh, frell,” she breathed, rising up onto her knees, shaking, eyes wide in post combat shock. “I just killed him. Two hims. Oh, my goddess!”
“I should point out that… they were trying their best… to kill you,” Rufus huffed. He waved his gun the general direction of the returning crowd, discouraging them from stripping the bodies just yet.
“What the frell were they doing with guns when they had shock sticks before?” she demanded.
“An interesting question,” the galapagos rumbled, his face a study in pain as he clenched his left hand into a fist, trying to bring back sensation to his arm. “My thanks for your assistance, vulpine.”
“I think I have the answer,” Rufus said, pulling out a wad credit notes from the leader’s pocket. His head had cracked open messily when the galapados had thrown him to the ground. The first three to go down in combat with the large lizard man were still alive though, moaning and semi-conscious. “They weren’t after money, they were after him, under the pretense of a simple mugging. Though I seriously doubt they were muggers. Then we intervened and escalated the situation, so they were forced to break cover”
“Professionals?” Hazel asked, her breathing returning to normal.
“Most likely.” Rufus turned towards the galapados, holding out his hand after holstering his weapon. “Forgive my manners, sir. Ru Ofanius Brushtail of Vulpine Prime, at your service.”
The galapados took it gravely and shook it. “Narod Drisden, of the Galapagos.” He gestured towards the bodies on the ground. “You suspect this is not a simple assault?”
“I suspect we are going to be in a great deal more trouble if we remain in the area. If these are agents of the Human Confederation as I think they were, there will be a backup team in the area. If these fellows had biomonitor implants, then that team is vectoring in on this position right now.”
“Right, we’re leaving!” Hazel said, grabbing Drisden’s good arm and attempting to drag him back towards the alley where their motorbike was parked. She would have had more luck pulling a tree trunk along. “Hey, come on!”
Drisden stood his ground. “And why should going with you be appreciably safer than facing confrontation with these individuals’ compatriots? I do not know you, madam.”
“We represent the government of Vulpine Prime,” Rufus said quickly, marking the time elapsed in his head. Too much time, even allowing that the backup team would have to make their way through the same crowded streets that his company would. “We wish, very emphatically, to open peaceful diplomatic relations with the Dominion. I have met your Wise Master, Adminstrator Gisko and the three humans that advise him. I want very much to meet with them again, as soon as can be arranged.”
Drisden considered that for a long moment. Then, finally, he nodded. “I will take you to them.”
“Ah, I had in mind you coming back with us to our ship while you contacted them. For safety’s sake.”
“Not safe for me,” Drisden rumbled, disengaging his arm from Hazel’s grip. “Come along if you wish. Otherwise give me a radio frequency to contact you on. My orders do not permit me to surrender myself to foreign nationals.”
Rufus bit his lip, conscious of the time slipping away. He dared not attempt to coerce Drisden into acompanying them to the Falcon Claw. That would be a horribly bad start to diplomatic relations with the Dominion. On the other hand, now that they had been lucky enough to contact a Dominion representative, he was loathe to let him out of his sight. “All right,” he said. “We’ll go with you. I presume you have a safe place to hide?”
“Yes. Come with me.” With that, Drisden drew his cloak over his head and headed down the street.
Rufus headed back to their parked motorbike, stepping over the unconscious body of a would be a bike thief, pulling out his comset as he settled himself over the seat, Hazel taking station behind him again. “Rufus to Mac, are you there?”
Mac here. Haven't you ever heard of operational security? I don't care if these units are encrypted, you're not suppose to use this channel unless it's important.
“Oh, it's important all right,” Rufus said.
Like what?
He kicked the motorbike into gear. “Well, I've got some good news and some bad news....”
TBC