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RP [Bounty Hunters]Mission Zero

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Whitehart

Inactive Member
System P1-4
Planet Pryedain
Robertsville city
~22:47


The White Marlin was, arguably, the largest and most prestigious restaurant on the planet. It catered to those of the upper crust, the creme de la creme, the better than's and tonight was no exception. Tonight, a fabulous Gala was in full swing, a fundraiser to help save some sea animal of some kind in which they ironically are serving seafood at. Though anyone who could afford the 1000 DA a plate probably did not care anyway for what needed saving.

It was the usual rain soaked night, but it looked breathtaking when viewed from atop the cliff the restaurant sat upon. The Ocean was dark and rolling, the rain causing beautiful imagery as it pattered against the glass roof and fell unpredictably down the glass walls. The lights were low and the melodic music helped create a decidely intimate feel among the gathered patrons.

The tranquility was shattered as an explosion ripped through the building from somewhere amongst the guests, fine dressed men and women shredded and hurled flew from their feet. The restaurant shook slight as a support pillar crumbled and a large portion of glass blew out but was forced back in by the high winds outside, glassed and water rained upon the scene. Shrieks and screams erupted from the gathered people as they hurriedy attempted to flee towards the many exits around them where they unfortunately ran afoul of the men and women responsible for this tragedy.

Dressed as waiters and cooks they stood at the entrances, crazed eyes wide with intent, and shot a variety of weapons in to the massed crowds. Some few fired ill maintained semi-automatic weapons and basic pistols however most just rushed with cleavers or kitchen knives in their hands. The only true thing saving the people from a complete massacre was the smoke, debris and the electricity failing in the wake of the explosion.

Previously...

Gearhead Halcyone 37-4252-9653 had been hired by a local cruise company. A Yacht the company gave planet tours on had gone missing and this was their lively hood and must be found, they were willing to pay a decent amount. It was an unusual contract for Gearhead Halcyone to take but finding and taking back a ship was easy enough and the money would not hurt either.

The trail led at first to a warehouse, obviously home to squatters and next to a restaurant called, the White Marlin. Upon Halcyone's arrival the Yacht was parked oddly beside the service entrance and moments after her arrival the building shook from an explosion. The sound of gunfire and pain echoing into the rainy night.


Kira Denere had needed the cash and this happened to be the best option at the moment. The local wildlife warden was stretched thin due to the planet being filled with Oceans and vast amounts of sea life. He needed a hired hand to help find some poachers of a protected shark species, apparently some really horrible people wanted their fins for soup. The weaselly Ranger had suggested to find the buyers then follow them to the suppliers.

Based on this suggestion Kira learned of a catering company known to possibly deal in such things and it just so happened those caterers were servicing the local upper class. What better a time to go under cover and check on this information. Getting in to the White Marlin was easy but it seemed a dead end. She easily noted that the caterers were fairly horrible at their jobs and quite disheveled for high end illegal service.

She was close to abandon the Gala altogether when she was thrown to the ground by the force of an explosion.


Shasta Archeletta had been a welcome addition for the undermanned ProSecure Inc. security company. They had been in the decline for a while now but landed a really lucrative job for a Gala. They wanted surveillance and Shasta fit the bill though she did stand out from the common overweight guard they employed. They set her up in a side office, tossed a radio at her and left her to a series of security monitors.

Only two things stood out in an otherwise boring night; There seemed to be way more catering staff than there needed to be and various of those zame caterers were constantly walking up and looking under the central table holding the ostentatious dolphin ice sculpture. The fundraiser wasn't even for a dolphin species.

The answer came all to quickly as Shasta watched ,through whichever medium she chose, the large hall fall in to chaos.


Duncan Whitaker was a man for hire, he had bills to pay and mouths to feed. Was a job as arm candy/bodyguard demeaning? Sure but it paid well and would be an easy gig. The woman was nice enough and he had only had to endure his butt being grabbed two or three times but he was really looking forward to moving on from this job.

He had to pack light which left him feeling naked without a large gun strapped to his back or his trusty hammer. His new Mk 1 Monster sat in its shoulder holster under his Emrys Tactical Suit. Luckily he had convinced the woman on how flashy he would look and how important she would seem with him wearing it, even luckier for that once he was forcibly removed from his feet by a hot ball of fiery death.

He laid there staring at the ceiling, his ears ringing, the poor woman laid burnt across his legs. The sudden gun shots pumping adrenaline in to his veins.

 
Dining Room

Blinding white light filled Kira's vision, and her sense of equilibrium was temporarily gone. She wasn't sure which way she was facing, or even which way was up, and the sounds of the terrified patrons' confused screams sounded far away, like it was coming from deep underground, barely penetrating the high-pitched, omnipresent ringing sound blaring in her ears loudly enough to drive her nearly mad.

The explosion had been so sudden that she hadn't even recognized it for what it was at first; one moment she was milling about the crowd in her low-cut, floor-length silvery-white gown, smiling at everyone's pleasantries as she made her way to the exit, and the next, it was complete pandemonium.

It took a few seconds to realize she was lying face-down on the floor, surrounded by shattered glass and bits of broken furniture. She tasted the silver chain of jeweled charms that had been hanging from her neck, realizing it was now in her mouth somehow, and a dull pain permeated her entire body. As her senses returned, she blinked hard, trying to force the swirling shapes clouding her vision to coalesce into recognizable forms.

She felt a hand clawing at her ankle, and she flipped onto her back, wrenching her leg away from the grasping fingers as quickly as her temporarily stunted reflexes would allow, looking down in horror. One of the patrons, an older gentleman in a pristine tuxedo complete with cracked monocle lying on the floor nearby, attached to his lapel by a thin gold chain. He lay helpless on his back, his body an unrecognizable ruin below the waist, as he desperately reached for her, sputtering horrific, gargled pleas for help.

A chandelier overhead flickered and went out with a spectacular shower of sparks as another peal of gunfire split the air. Kira winced, then grimaced as she forced her muscles back into obedience. Staying as low to the floor as she could, she slithered over to the wrecked man, her previously styled curls bouncing over her shoulders. His hands found her wrists and clasped them as if he were drowning, which for all Kira knew, he was. With some effort, she managed to pry his fingers from her and cupped his cheek in her palm. "Shh," she tried to console him reassuringly. "Hush now. You're going to be okay. Everything will be all right."

She firmly held her eyes on his, refusing to look down at the ruins of his legs, and seeing the primal, animal panic in them as she spoke to him. She had no idea if her words were even getting through, but that didn't matter right now. Scanning the area quickly, she hooked her arms beneath his shoulders and dragged him, screaming, behind an overturned table that was between her and the gunmen.

As soon as he was behind cover, she reached between her legs, ripping her gown from the hem up to the middle of her thighs, and withdrew the thin pistol she had concealed in a holster there. Slowly, carefully, she peeked one eye up over the edge of the table, careful to keep her profile low, and assess how many threats were out there.
 
White Marlin, Second floor security suite.

Shasta Archeletta had been promised a party with lights and dancing and food. Instead she got a bunch of stuffy snoods eating weird finger foods, listening to boring music she swore she heard in a lift once. She even wore her nicest, only dress to the occasion!

A sudden jolt changed all that. Her terminal screens had all suddenly gone blank, And even through a short network of corridors and walls she could hear out the drowned out screams and the Tak Tak Tak of distant gunshots.

Scooping up what little she had with her, Shasta scrambled through the smoke filled corridors past cowering guests, and eventually to one of the many balconies overlooking the main restaurant floor. The scene there, somewhat obscured was more confusing to the Nepleslian mutant than it was terrifying.

"Oh im so fired!" She came to the conclusion at the scene below. Or was she? If she was contracted to the restaurant for the night, Was she supposed to shoot people too? She didn't want to.

"Nope, bad guys!" The answer suddenly hurtled past her head as somebody decided her an ideal target, forcing her to duck behind the railings out of sight. Drawing the Energy Pistol from her satchel and onto her lap, and bringing her Datajockey up, Shasta Qued a series of commands before vaulting over the railing into the restaurant bellow with an excited scream.
 
Gearhead Halcyone Three Seven 37-4252-9653 was not sure why she had taken this job that she now had to complete. She was an engineer and quite a gifted one at that, she thought. So to be out here, snooping around looking for a missing ship felt odd to the Freespacer. Well, she knew why she had taken the job. She was broke. Ever since the end of her short stint with the Nepleslian Navy, she'd been hard pressed to come by any form of work. The joint training program intended to educate selected Freespacer's in military tactics and combat, to allow some of them to have a better grasp on warfare and combat to help defend their people, had seemed good enough at the time, but after facing several combat actions, Halcyone had decided it was not for her. She had not quit, but when it came time to extend her time with the group, she had passed.

Jobs since then had been far and few between and she'd been running dry on credits for supplies when this one had cropped up, so she had taken it. Now here she was, on a strange planet, looking for a missing yatch. She frowned as she moved along the place where it was suspected the little vessel was landed at. She was, as always, clad in her impressive encounter suit, which could be mistaken for power armor or a bulky EVA suit. It protected her from the elements, from attack and granted her superior strength, life support and a host of sensors and tools useful to her trade as a gearhead. It's once polished shiny black surface was now scratched and scuffed and dull from many months of not being able to properly care for it. She hoped this gig would give her the funds enough to start maintaining her gear properly again soon.

Halcyone's bright neon pink eyes scanned the information scrolling across the Heads Up Display on the inside of her helmet's faceplate and smiled as she spotted the yatch's powerplant energy signature she had been provided by her employer on her sensors.

"There you are" she said softly only to herself, her encounter suit's external speakers off for now. It was parked next to the service entrance of a warehouse and she walked over to it, dimming her suit's external accent lights and hair to minimum as to better blend into the rainy darkness. She needed to confirm the ships serial numbers before she even thought of repossessing it.

Then there was the unmistakable rumble and compression of an explosion not so far away and the crackling of gunfire. She froze and stretched out with her sensors to see what was going on. Hopefully none of it had to do with the little ship she was here to recover.
 
White Merlin, Restaurant Floor.

Shasta rolled, Trying to absorb all the impact from a landing with her the legs alone from the balcony drop. A shock wave of pain still traveled up her legs as her feet hit the floor, causing her to cry about and stumble before she righted herself against an overturned table, staggering to her feet to peer over and asses the situation.

Her senses where immediately overloaded by all the smoke, Shooting, And screaming alone as she bore witness to what was taking place in a literal kill-zone. The lack of hard cover, and angles of fire from the attackers meant that if the few bodyguards that where likely armed and present and where tasked with protecting their wards wealthy enough to afford their services for the night hadn't already been overwhelmed, They would soon.

There was still movement she could see, Still peering over. A woman dragging someone to cover behind a table, A man still dazed with a body laying over him. Shasta had already acted, and thrown herself into the proverbial fire. She knew if she didn't act soon the body count would continue to rise until she eventually joined them.

Taking a few short breaths and hyping herself up, Shasta held her thumb down on the recall command of her data jockey before she changed her Energy pistol onto its stun setting. There where too many in the crossfire as it was to worry about collateral, And getting stunned and looking like a corpse was better than being one in the situation. She followed through with a yip, throwing herself over the table, Her tail wagging excitedly as she darted into the open and began the counterattack.
 
Inside

The room smelled of smoke, fire and fear. It seemed, in short order the fimsy security company had been overrun but a some shots still rang out as it was obvious some of the more competent bodyguards were still standing and doing their jobs though they seemed to fade as they must have been moving away from the sene.

The shooting was dying down for now, sobs, cries and pleas could be heard along with the obvious gruff merciless tones of the terrorists. They had succeeded at their jobs and now, for them, it was a matter of clean up. The rain outside had subsided as if to try and calm this terrible tragedy, the water trickling in to the large ballroom.

As Kira lightly peered over the up turned table edge she saw ahead of her mostly bodies or cowering people laying flat on the floor. On one hand it might have been a relief to see that not everyone had died but there certainly was an unhealthy ratio. Things did catch her eye however, she spotted a woman in a dress jump from the second floor a distance away to her left and once landed had pulled out a weapon and, rather than flee, seemed to go off looking for trouble.

Also a man a few meters ahead of her was struggling to sit up and remove a dead woman off his lower half. He was in an awkward position, even more so when the third item grew into recognition to Kira, three men coming out of the smoke holding guns looming menacingly toward the oblivious man.

Along the left side of the hall Shasta loped near the wall through the smoke, debris causing her to slow her stride luckily just as she came upon a small group of the caterers turned terrorist. The group and shasta locked eyes for a moment before both sides reacted, their guns coming up and opening fire, two even brandishing clearly unhygenic cleavers as they ran at our hero. There was plenty of cover nearby plus a denser patch of smoke more towards the open area beside Shasta.

Outside

Halcyone took note of the rain storm ending which helped ease her scanning duties. The Yacht seemed devoid of any inhabitants nor could any guards be seen or detected, although the vast restaurant was a different story. He sensors went off showing various people fleeing the scene as well as numerous gunshots and small explosions from inside. It seemed that whatever was happening clearly people needed help, would the Freespacer be the savior they required?

In either case there was the main entrance which seemed to have the most gunfire coming from it, the overhead glass ceiling which was obviously shattered, the side entrance by the Yacht and an emergency exit on the otherside of the building. The emergency exit and the various smaller blown out windows along the walls were mostly being used by fleeing occupants or getting clogged by such.
 
Restaurant Floor - Inside

When she spotted the downed man pinned by a corpse, Kira's first instinct was to leap over the overturned table to help, but her training and practical sense easily suppressed the urge. Her mobility would be severely hampered by the slinky dress she wore, even ripped from hem to hip as it was now. Her heart dropped when she spotted three men emerging from the smoke, converging on the helpless man.

She ducked her head back beneath the table, checking on the ruined body barely clinging to life next to her. The old man's eyes were still wide with panic, and his skin was looking so pale that she feared there would be nothing she could do for him one way or the other. She held back the tears of frustration as she laid a hand on his forehead, cooing comforting lies to him about how he would be all right, that she had things under control. With one hand still clutching her pistol, she used her free hand to wrench the high-heeled sandals off of her feet, discarding them, and steeled her nerves with a few short breaths.

With practiced precision she popped up from behind the table spotting the three armed men once more, and aimed her weapon at their kneecaps, squeezing off three rounds at each target as fast as she could before dropping back into concealment.
 
Restaurant Floor - Inside

Duncan had been trying his best to be as gentle as possible with the poor woman's body laying awkwardly across his lower legs. She had been a nice enough woman for a stuck up old hag who really did not deserve to die in this way. He coughed a few times as the air, thick with smoke, had seeped into his lungs by now plaing havoc with his breathing.

He had heard the gunshots all around him so he knew it was more than just a bombing and he knew his position was not ideal but he just couldn't bring himself to cast aside the body. In between his struggles he took brief moments to take in his surroundings, plenty of cover and smoke osbscuring further than a few meters. A quick movemtn caught his attention however, directly in front of him a noticeably beautiful woman popped up from behind a table and was aiming a gun directly at him. He raised up his hands as she fired, as if he could magically stop the bullets. He fell from a sitting position on to his back to attain a smaller target while he reached for his Mk 1 Monster in his shoulder holster and contemplated why this woman would be shooting at him. His vantage point from his laid back position helped fill in the story.

From behind him were approaching three fairly disheveled goons, two carrying some sketchy looking carbines while the other carried a broken table leg as a club. He was able to get behind the idea that the pretty woman wasn't, hopefully, shooting at him but these guys and was proven correct as one of the thugs with a carbine crumpled as his right kneeca seemingly exploded from the gunshot. He fell screaming in pain and clutching at his poor poor knee. The man with the table leg yelped with a gaze to his thigh. The last man had the werewithal to dive for the cover of a nearby ruined pillar and opened up a few horribly aimed shots at the table in front of Kira.

Duncan seized the opportunity and, apologizing in his head, kicked the body off his legs and scrambled to his feet just as the man with the club came running at him in anger. There was not a lot of time but Duncan had some experience with crazed bums attempting to rush him blindly, he took a small step backward and brought his new revolver up with a two handed grip. The man's charge was brutally halted as he was lifted from his feet following a loud bang from the revolver.

Without wasting any time Duncan turned and ran straight at and over the handy table cover, landing beside Kira and ducking down, avoiding the enraged fire of the third and final man from the trio. He looked at Kira and honeslty could not stop himself from glancing her over but surprisingl settled on her face. "You Lady, are a lifesaver, thanks for saving my bacon," He said with a wide eyed look.
 
Restaurant Floor - Inside

The reports of return fire cracked through the room as Kira crouched behind the table again, pistol still held at the ready. She was certain she had hit at least one of them, and reasonably suspected the second one had been dropped as well, but she dared not poke her head out again to check for at least another few seconds. No more than about seven or eight inches from her nose a small quasi-circular section of the table exploded outwards in a hail of dust and splintered wood as one of the goons' replies to her ambush punched through it. Her steel-colored eyes snapped to the bullet hole on involuntary reflex, the mask of iron focus on her sharp features barely concealing the kind of disbelieving terror that was only possible by way of a close brush with one's own mortality. Had the barrel of the crook's gun been angled but a degree or so more to the left, that bullet may very well have taken some of her brain along with it as it passed through her skull.

Another sharp crack of gunfire echoed, followed by the continuing sounds of shuffling feet amidst the chaos on the other side of the overturned table. In the seconds that followed, she sensed heavy movement just behind her makeshift bunker, and wheeled around to bring her gun to bear on the incoming assailant. She was a hair's breadth away from squeezing the trigger again when she recognized the face of the man who she had just rescued (at least for now), and relaxed her finger as she whipped the barrel toward the ceiling again.

"You're welcome," she replied matter-of-factly. Under other circumstances her voice would have been rather sweet and pleasant, and in surprising contrast to those cold bombardier's eyes of hers, but amidst the screaming, smoke, and the look of dutiful focus on her features somewhat diminished any real emotion behind it. Aside from the brief split-second when she was about to shoot him, she didn't keep those icy eyes on him for more than an instant, so she didn't seem to notice the way he ogled her. Instead, she stole a quick glance over the edge of the table to reassess the situation, and immediately ducked again with gritted teeth when another hail of bullets whizzed overhead, a few of them splintering more of the wooden surface. She looked back at the dying man at her side, who had now grown quiet, and with a twinge of regret, shimmied to her left about a foot, keeping her head and shoulders behind the table. She rested the magazine of her pistol against the table's edge in her double-handed grip and squeezed off two rounds into the ceiling in hopes of discouraging any advance as she did so. "Help me," she barked back at the man in a tone that was both gently pleading and dutifully disciplined.
 
White Merlin, Restaurant Floor.

Shasta had recoiled just in time to dodge a round from one of her attackers and place a snapshot of her own in return, The audible crack passing where her head had just been a moment prior forced her to place a pause on whatever semblance of a plan she had been forming other than run around and shoot people until nobody moves, Let the authorities figure out who the good stunned people are, and the bad.

There was cover in the form of over turned tables and debris she might have taken advantage of in the case of the firefight, But she disregarded them and back-peddled, Energy pistol firing wildly as two attackers attempted to close the distance while their allies kept her mobile and unable to dispatch them swiftly like she would have preferred. She had a stun baton exactly for this very reason, sheathed and ready in her satchel. But retrieving it would require sheltering her Energy pistol or her Datajockey the latter of which proving equally if not more important as the Ringing in her ears subsided and she was able to catch the sound of the distant buzzing growing increasingly louder. And if her toys where close enough to be heard...

Placing a boot on the chest of the first assailant, Shasta delivered as hard a kick as she could manage, Staggering the caterer long enough to place a point blank shot into his side. She kept the second between her and the gunmen, Spoiling any shot they might have had while keeping the caterer at a standoff range. They would eventually branch to either side and turn her into something resembling a pin-cushion, but she wasn't worried, their time had essentially run out.

From the shattered remains of the window, Two fast moving objects burst through the parting smoke in concert with a smaller object between them. Shasta released her thumb off the Recall command, The only thing overriding the two armed drones set commands. Following a strict Que set before she vaulted into the restaurant floor, The Lachesis drones immediately sought out the home point, Aided by the more advanced optics in the blister drone between them that completed a set formation. It only took a moment for them to lock onto her. And following the set commands, Immediately targeted the gunmen between them and their home point with the intent to kill.

"Games on!" Shasta grinned, Bringing her energy pistol back to bear at the cleaver wielding man.
 
Left Side

The fight was well and truly on. The terrorists near Shasta had truly underestimated her as her kick and follow up point blank shot sent the man tumbling hard to the ground, only a moan letting those nearby know he might not be dead. The second man with a cleaver danced the dance, being easily goaded into a game of back and forth with the energetic lupine. Though maybe not a seasoned vet of fighting and battles, Shasta could easily tell there was just something maniacal and off about the men she faced, even more so when the ones in the back continued firing at her with almost no care for their allies. The arrival of the drones was a relief for Shasta and startling for the 3 men shooting haphazardly in her general direction, obviously so as at least one of them kept shooting a little at her and a little at the hovering oddities. The drones were right on the money though, both unloading shots at a particularly gangly and greasy gunman, punching through his dirty uniform and dropping him him backward over a nearby chair, causing the man beside him to stop firing for a moment and hop out of the way.

The Cleaverman before Shasta chose his moment coming forward a high handed chop only to veer quickly to the right into a cross cut from right to left, the blow slightly catching the energy pistol's barrel and pushing the aim away from him. he stepped in with a back handed cut trying to finish the woman. The last two attempted to evade the drone fire sending wildly aimed ammo at both Shasta and the drones in a strange bullet dance which would have been amusing were it not for the dangerous situation. One even whooped slightly as his bullets pinged off one of the Lachesis drones causing it scatter it's aim, it's shots coming dangerously close to Shasta herself. Slightly past the two men could be seen at least two more on their way.

Center

Both Kira and the covered gunman traded a shot or two, making it apparent they were at a bit of a stalemate. Further shooting could be heard increasing to their left and there position would only protect them so long as the table was slowly starting to be eaten by bullets. The time to act was upon them and Duncan had decided to help the stalemate a long. Turning to Kira he said, "Lady, get a bead on the guy. I am gonna make a break for the cover over there," he gestured a little to the left at a small pile of chairs and serving carts. "The way this guy is spitting lead, he is sure to jump on the chance to plug me. All I ask is that you plug him first okay?" The large man obviously could talk a fairly confidant game for sure but the quick shift of his eyes from Kira towards the direction of the gunman spoke volumes to the woman, his smile was fairly genuine though showing that he trusted her even though he had not even gotten her name.

Without any more spoken words, Duncan wiped his brow with the back of his left hand, switched his Mk 1 to it's laser option and dashed towards the next makeshift cover taking ill aimed shots at the man to draw his attention. Sure enough the man was not about to let this opportunity go and practically leaned forward out of the cover shooting a stream of profanity and bullets at the large moving target.
 
Restaurant Floor - Center

Kira only gave Duncan a terse nod in response, her attention too fixated on the gunman shooting from behind the column, and now forced to be divided between him and the sounds of another pitched gunfight to their left. She winced as the acid thrum of another bullet whizzed overhead, so close that she could feel the torn air through her thick brown hair as it sliced by. She gritted her teeth as she ducked on instinct, catching an accidental glance down at the shimmering cloth of her gown pulled taut across her abdomen, and in her head cursing the fact that the one opportunity she'd had in years to dress her finest happened to be the worst possible situation for it.

There wasn't time to ponder it long, however, as Duncan's insane diversion brought down another spray of bullets, this time moving away from Kira's skull. On little more than reactionary impulse, she rose to her knees and popped up from behind the table like a wildly inappropriately-themed shooting gallery prop. Cradled in both hands her pistol barrel leveled itself with barely a thought from her at the screaming gunman's center of mass, and she dispassionately squeezed the trigger three more times.
 
Fight Time was failing miserably for Shasta, Despite completing its objective of keeping attention of the fleeing patrons of the White Marlin!

Shani and Sha-la-la, The two armed drones where performing perfectly. Drawing an even safer bout of fire from Shasta and the original victims. But their batteries where likely reaching the last quarter of their capacity, The timing obvious from the blister drone "Nani" sagging between them as it burnt the last of its battery and struggled to stay airborne with an audible whine of its servos. The Lachesis drones would drop in effectiveness without the blisters more advanced optics and targeting systems to offset, But not by too much.

To make matters worse she was losing. Constant smoke inhalation was causing her lungs to burn and her eyes to water as her attacker kept gradually pushing her back, Gaining a steady advantage as he slowly and literally cut through her defense, Prevalent from a varying degree of defensive wounds on her arms, And a gouge she could feel somewhere near her collarbone but didnt have the time to locate.

Sooner or later either blood-loss or suffocation through smoke inhalation would do Shasta in, She knew that much. It was time for more desperate measures. She let her datajockey slide from her grasp into her open satchel, The drones where already acting autonomously, And she would need a free hand for what was to come.

She allowed herself to slip.
She allowed her flank to become exposed.

It didnt make it any easier when she felt the kine edge of the blade dig into her side. She grimaced and cried out in pain, But it was worth it. With her free hand she grasped the blade and triggered the magnetic function of her Mettolidae gloves, Immediately retching the blade free from a blood slicked hand. And with the other jabbed the nicked end of her energy pistol into the mans stomach. She delivered a point blank shot into the mans stomach just like his comrade received, Riding the momentum of his collapse to use him as a temporary shield to throw herself safely out of the smoke and back into the somewhat more breathable air of the rest of the restaurant.

"Are you going to want this back, or can i keep this?" She flipped the cleaver to hold it by its handle. The remark sounded weak even to her as she sagged somewhat, favoring her uninjured side. forcing herself to go mobile again as she created some distance between her and the gunmen, Firing blindly again with her new cleaver at the ready, Well aware of the reinforcements quickly closing the distance. When she reached a certain point the drones would disengage to re-acquire the set distance required between them and their home point. There where others already fighting somewhere behind her, And it was time to make her castle with them and hold it.
 
Outside


Halcyone paused, listening to the sounds of gunfire coming from the restaurant. She could see the people streaming out of the place in a panic. She frowned and quickly moved behind the ship she had come to take. She did not want to get involved in whatever trouble was going on, but innocent people were being harmed and it might have something to do with the job she was here for, or, yet again, it might not. But with all this commotion, it was not the time to be stealing a ship, even if it was a repossession job. So, instead, she disabled the small yacht so it could not be used as an escape vehicle by whoever was shooting up the place. She quickly opened an access panel between the small vessels engines and reached in, detaching several hoses and cables that fed data to the power plant computer and power from the small reactor to the engines. Along with that, she pulled out the power plant computer's control chip and stowed it away in one of her encounter suit's storage compartments. The small vessel disabled, she put the access panel back in place, then moved away from the yacht and towards the danger.

She was not armed, in the traditional sense, even though she had weapons training from her short time with the Nepleslian military special training program, she did not like guns and did not carry one. She did have tools built into her encounter suit that would suffice, if needed, and the armor would protect her quite well, too.

Her tall gleaming black armored form waded through the last of the escaping crowd as she moved up to the embattled restaurant and paused, reaching out with her sensors to get a good look at what was going on inside. As she looked with her multi spectrum sensors, she raised her artificial left arm and it unfolded, a section of the top of her armored gauntlet flipping open and allowing components stored inside the arm to unfold themselves. An arc welder she used for engineering work on starships, sparked and crackled and hissed as she turned it on, converting some of the air around it's emitter to plasma. Keeping the power low. It would make a good enough weapon at close enough range.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed her way through the back door of the restaurant and looked to see where she could help getting people clear of the danger.
 
Things were really coming to a head in the grand scheme of this particular little attack. The gala of the rich and wanna-be famous had become an honest to goodness tragedy. The smoke had all but dissipated into the upper areas of the overly large room, creating an eerie overcast feeling to the room of violence and tears. While it was nice to see and breathe for the first time in quite a few minutes this led to an all new predicament for the Hunters.

Kira's aim held true as her training had taught her, her breathe almost pushing the bullets directly in to her target. Her first shot chipped off the broken pillar that provided the terrorist with cover but the following duo of shots hit home, one penetrating the man's shoulder throwing off his aim and turning him slightly and the next entered right behind his ear ending his life. It was a satisfying end to this one of many gunfights yet to come though not without it's drawbacks.

Duncan, while on the move, had half turned to lay down wildly inaccurate distracting fire had been hit in his left shoulder. Luckily, the bullet had impacted one of the many Osmiridium plates woven in to his Emrys jacket, the hit staggered him, dropping him to a knee. He donned his trademark carefree grin when he was no longer under immediate fire and the man was slumped over. He took a moment to glance about him for other potential threats and found himself meters away from a woman in a dress running almost right at him, a cleaver and some kind of pistol in her hand. The mostly cleared air also directed his attention to the waiters behind her shooting their collective way.

Duncan burst forward quite quickly for a man his size, activating his jackets field projector. "Lady," he yelled, "get down now!" He rushed past her and was quick to catch the incoming shots for Shasta on his deployed energy shield. He crouched slightly as the chittering of bullets against energy droned on, Duncan visibly leaned forward to compensate for being pushed back, he provided a great source of cover for Shasta to orient herself.

The two gunmen had been joined by another man and woman and the four of them were zealously pouring fire toward the last dredges of resistance. It did not help that they had realized they were possibly the last of the group and that, while they had succeeded at their original purpose, these last few were the cause of their brethren dying. They meant to take their revenge and stood there, in the open, shooting hate and anger at the small group.

Back Door

Halcyone had entered the back door just as the last of the victims fled the scene, a kitchen in front of her. A doorway to the main room was several feet away and gave the Freespacer a clear view of two caterers cross in front of the open portal heading somewhere to the right. Her sensors picked up the lasting traces of the explosion, the dirt and debris kicked up slowly fading after the blast, a total of seven people where moving around obviously in some type of gunfight from the clear retort of automatic fire. The closest of them were four, to include the two she had visually seen, almost right outside the doorway to the hall.

A look out would see three like dressed men and one woman firing at a pair clearly hunkered down behind some kind of energy shield which, to the engineers sensors, was fast fading under the pressure. The last of the seven was further away and out of sight for the time being.

Bear in mind that I trust you three to interpret and act upon the scenario as you see fit and to take certain liberties in the action.
 

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Shasta allowed her body to take a momentary toll on her as she collapsed behind her newly acquired ally/hardcover, Shouting a response of "Senk Yooh!", Muffled somewhat from the clever between her teeth as she explored her wounds and entered a new set of commands to Shani and Sha-La-La. Nani on the other hand had stopped transmitting likely due to a dead battery, She would recover him later if she could. If she made it. But at least for the time being a new unit could replace Nani in the formation.

She dug in her satchel, Well aware of her new allies diminishing protection. And began assembling a second blister drone The small spherical drone painted a bright yellow that mimicked the sun, With a pair of sunglasses around its sensors. She finished assembling Taiyou synced him to her datajockey, Rapidly plotting him a course that wouldn't take him into direct fire and that would cause the least damage to Shani or her sister.

As soon as she let the small painted sun fly off, She examined the growing crimson stain on her dress, Some prodding revealed it wasnt quite as deep as it felt. It certainly hurt, But it wouldn't be fatal. She had caught the blade in time to avoid the heavy cleave shattering her hip or causing irreparable damage she assumed. It wouldn't stop her from taking advantage of the opening she was about to create, Only slow her down.

With everything in place and Taiyou quickly zipping towards a point between Shasta and her enemies, Shasta pulled herself up, using her new ally as a ladder to look over his shoulder.

"Close your eyes." She ordered, Before taking a deep breath and screaming "Everyone's Blind!" at the top of her lungs as she pressed the button simply labled "Detonate" that connected to the suicide drone, Detonating the charge inside it that sent fragmentation in all directions and a disorientating bright light capable of blinding anyone too close to have known what was coming as her little sun lived up to its paint scheme, Destroying the drone in the process.
 
"Looney, crazy ss--" Kira muttered as Duncan made himself a human shield for the strange woman with the tail, stopping herself from loosing unpleasant language through a combination of self-restraint and reflexively ducking behind her overturned table, which was rapidly being reduced to splinters, forcing her to flatten herself even lower to the floor. Despite herself, she realized she was grinning at the ill-advised heroics, and shook her head, pushing back a thick lock of bouncing curls from her eyes. She was about to take advantage of a momentary lapse in the gunfire to respond in kind, hoping to keep the ragtag group's assailants pinned where they were, but the reports started up a millisecond sooner than she'd anticipated.

A spray of bullets ripped through the table inches from her shoulder, blowing off a jagged semicircle from the top edge a good foot and a half in diameter. One of them nicked the exposed skin of her left shoulder, and a thin red line of blood began to ooze out of it. She sucked her teeth sharply and winced, instinctively clapping a hand over the graze, lifting it only long enough to give it a quick visual inspection. It had little more than raked the skin, but it felt as though she'd just been whipped by a thin metal cord heated nearly to the point of melting.

Shasta's half-warning-half-battle cry left her initially perplexed, but thanks to the hailstorm of bullets, she dared not peek over to investigate what it meant. The explanation came rather quickly in the form of a loud, dull THUD that she felt more than heard, as if someone had thrown a heavy sack of sand directly into her chest, and the room lit up bright as day for an instant. She didn't need to hear the panicked screams from the rabble of gunmen to know what had just happened.

Steeling her nerves, she sprang to her right, sprinting barefoot from behind the overturned table to the nearby pillar. She had very nearly gotten there when her legs became tangled in the ripped fabric of her gown, stopping her feet short while her torso continued onward. Her eyes went wide in panic as the floor suddenly rushed up to meet her face, and she narrowly managed to catch herself on the flat of her right forearm, allowing her momentum to carry her the rest of the way in a forward roll.

She came back to her feet in a crouch just beyond the pillar, digging in her heels to stop herself as she fell hard onto her bottom. A pile of shattered glass found her bare heel, slicing it open as she furiously pedaled herself backwards, scooting as fast as she could along her rump until her back slammed into the pillar and yanked her now-bare left leg into cover along with the rest of her. Her shoulders heaved as she gasped through the hair clinging to her nose, eyes, and mouth, trying to still her pounding heartbeat as she held her pistol aloft next to her cheek until she was certain that the gunfire had stopped.

Hesitantly she peeked around the column to assess the situation. If the threats had indeed been neutralized, it would quickly be time to move in and get some answers for this bedlam.
 
Halcyone had little time to asses the situation she had walked in upon. She saw the three firing on the two behind cover. Her infrared sensors showed her where exactly the two under fire were and the way they were huddling behind cover and the way the attackers were all similarly dressed, told her who the aggressors where and who the victims were. She had no time to act on this new knowledge though, as a small spherical yellow object was lobbed out from cover by one of the defenders.

Her senors warned of imminent danger. Was it a grenade, a flash bomb? She did not know, just that it had been hurled in the direction of the three aggressors, so, also, in her direction, since she was generally behind them. The big armored Freespaced backpedaled the way she had come from, throwing her armored arms up to shield the face plate of her encounter suit helmet, which also immediately darkened to protect her eyes, which she squeezed shut in anticipation of the imminent explosion or blinding flash, or whatever was about to happen.
 
The suicide drone had been a valuable asset to those being besieged by the gunmen, effectively taking down one of the four terrorists left and leaving the other three temporarily shaken and diving for cover. The unfortunate man fell in a hail of metal and pain, not even seeing his end as the flash and bang bringing chaos and fear to replace his former righteousness of his cause. The quick thinking by Halcyone allowed her to avoid the sensory confusion from the drone and her encounter suit protected her from the shrapnel.

It was truly not a moment too soon, for just the last few rounds angling for the entrenched Duncan broke through the force field. The first pierced the big mans forward left leg, the impact taking the limb out from under him while the second round grazed just above Duncan's left temple as he fell forward. He let out a painful cry as he landed hard on the floor, instinctively rolling to change his location but was otherwise breathless.

As the effects from the drone died down, the three active Hunters had a dwindling opportunity to take advantage of the scene. The closest terrorist to shasta had dropped down to his knees and, while suffering from various wounds, was already starting to shake his head clear of the effects. The woman at the back had stumbled backward toward Halcyone, the Freespacers existence unbeknownst to her and the last of the three had dived to the side and was face down, covering his head. While the terrorists had been in control from the beginning, it seemed that these last few had started to realize that they may not be as unstoppable as they originally thought.
 
(Consulted with Whitehart "off-camera" for third-party reactions.)

Restaurant Floor - Center

It was now officially a rout. The bulk of the terrorists had been either killed, incapacitated, or at the least had their resolve broken by the clearly unexpected show of resistance. Seizing her moment, Kira rose to her feet, pistol clenched in both hands as she slid across the debris-strewn floor, crouched as low as her legs would allow without switching to a full-blown crawl. Her now-ruined evening gown, even ripped all the way up to her hip, still snagged on shattered furniture (and one dead man's hand, twisted into a claw), tugging at her thighs and knees as she moved. She swallowed a lump in her throat as she tried not to look at the corpse, reminding herself sternly that until the immediate threat had passed, she would be of no help to the dead and dying.

She moved clumsily to the terrorist that was lying prone only a few feet away from her column, quivering in terror and covering the back of his head with his hands. She scanned the area once more with those bombardier's eyes of hers, totally aware that she was exposed to any sort of lethal response that the remaining criminals might have in store for her, but in the moment she didn't care. This had to stop, and it had to stop right now. Too many innocents had been pointlessly slaughtered already.

"On your feet!" she barked in a resonant, shockingly powerful voice that didn't seem like it belonged at all with the soft brown curls bouncing just over her shoulders, or the curves revealed beneath that ruined white gown. It did, however, sound right at home with that stern, menacing glare, punctuated by those two reflective pools of actinic blue. She let go of her pistol with her left hand just long enough to grab a fistful of the back of cowering terrorist's tunic and twist it hard. The gunman's trembling changed into the violent spasms of a man in fear for his life as he yelped in surprise, but his shirt's collar bit into his throat and cut it short. Kira gave his shirt a hard yank, unable to wrench him to his feet under her own power, but the message was persuasive enough. The gunman scrambled to his feet and allowed the much smaller, pistol-wielding woman to spin him away, facing his comrades' hiding spots.

In but a few quick, fluid motions, Kira released his tunic, slid her palm down his back and over to the inside of his left arm. Her fingers closed tightly around his wrist and jerked it backwards, pulling his hand, palm out, up against his back nearly as high as the midpoint between his shoulder blades. When he howled and tried to struggle, she only pulled harder, intensifying the pain. When increased pressure didn't subdue him, the hot metal gun barrel pressed into the back of his skull got the message through, and he immediately fell silent, though his face remained twisted in a mask of agony.

Kira herself remained largely hidden behind the larger man, only allowing enough of her face to peek around his shoulder to keep her cone of vision centered on the terrorists' most probable hiding spots. "Drop your weapons! Put them on the floor and slide them out toward us!" she shouted in that same authoritarian, no-nonsense timbre. "NOW!"
 
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