11-04-2015, 06:14 PM
He was burned, battered, and bloodied, but Shang Tsung still had enough left in his tank to drag himself up off the disease-infested soil of the stadium. All around him, lances of red energy bombarded the ground, tearing up clumps of dirt and stone as the woman in the spaceship sought out the fallen sorcerer. Amidst the haze of the burning platforms and the smoldering heaps of steel that now littered the battle zone, Shang concealed himself.
Whatever toxic vapors filled the area burned at his exposes orifices, but the constant smog and blasts worked in his favor, at least for the moment. With most of the platforms up above blown to smoldering pieces, the only option that remained was the other ship frozen high in the sky over his head. Unfortunately, he’d have to find some way to get around the blonde bitch with the laser obsession.
Need a plan. The sorcerer squinted through the haze of smoke and toxins. Ten yards away, he spied what seemed to be a long length of cable from one of the shattered machines that littered the ground. Better be enough.
Once more willing his body into action, Shang scrambled up to a vertical position as lasers stitched their way across the ground toward him. He stole a quick gaze up ahead at what remained of one of the armory stands. While most of it was gone, there was enough jutting out that his plan could work.
As his legs rushed him forward, the sorcerer threw out a hand and willed the nearby cable into his frantic grasp. Once he had it clenched in his dirty fist, he gave it a solid yank, liberating it from the wreckage. A beat later, he swung it out in front of him, wrapping it around part of the armory stand. Behind him, bolts of laser fire grew closer, nipping at his ankles from close enough away to heat his flesh. Before the assault could reach him, he lunged from the ground with everything he had left, his body swinging with the arc of the anchored cable. As the ground behind him erupted upward into a fount of dirt and stone, he was in the air, his lithe form slung upward behind the tension of the cable.
In a few heartbeats, the cable carried him up into the air above where the platforms had once been. Before long, a blaze of red bolts tore through his lifeline, and instead of gracefully swinging up, Shang started to drop. His eyes caught another free-floating fragment of scorched steel, and his fingers desperately grabbed at the hot, jagged metal. Before his brain had time to react to the pain, he had pulled himself up onto the once-living platform and jumped up toward the remaining vessel.
Perhaps it was adrenaline.
Perhaps it was just some dumb luck.
Either way, Shang Tsung managed to slip into the cockpit of the strange, cramped fight with solar heating panels for wings. The engines roared to life after he raked his blood-stained palms against a series of buttons, and with a lurch, the future-tech fighter jet dropped from its stasis as energy beams scorched the air around it.
The initial shock of still being alive quickly subsided as small klaxons screamed inside the tiny space, warning Shang that he needed to avert his current trajectory. With the joysticks to his sides the only things he hadn’t already smacked or mashed, the sorcerer clutched them both and yanked back on them. Although there was a brief and terrible stuttering from the engines, the ship pulled up out of its suicide dive just a handful of meters above the floor of the Colosseum.
As he pulled up to gain more altitude, there were additional warnings all around the view screen. Whoever she was, the woman was more qualified to pilot spaceships, and since he hadn’t eaten a pilot in years, he knew this was a fight he couldn’t win. In the few seconds it had taken him to veer the ship back up, the woman had already pulled in line behind him. She would need just a few more seconds to punch his fighter full of burning-red holes.
A man of learning and finesse, Shang Tsung opted for the uncouth and unorthodox response to a more skilled opponent stalking him. He took his bloody fist and punched the red button that lay off to the side of the control panel.
The ‘Eject’ button.
Whatever toxic vapors filled the area burned at his exposes orifices, but the constant smog and blasts worked in his favor, at least for the moment. With most of the platforms up above blown to smoldering pieces, the only option that remained was the other ship frozen high in the sky over his head. Unfortunately, he’d have to find some way to get around the blonde bitch with the laser obsession.
Need a plan. The sorcerer squinted through the haze of smoke and toxins. Ten yards away, he spied what seemed to be a long length of cable from one of the shattered machines that littered the ground. Better be enough.
Once more willing his body into action, Shang scrambled up to a vertical position as lasers stitched their way across the ground toward him. He stole a quick gaze up ahead at what remained of one of the armory stands. While most of it was gone, there was enough jutting out that his plan could work.
As his legs rushed him forward, the sorcerer threw out a hand and willed the nearby cable into his frantic grasp. Once he had it clenched in his dirty fist, he gave it a solid yank, liberating it from the wreckage. A beat later, he swung it out in front of him, wrapping it around part of the armory stand. Behind him, bolts of laser fire grew closer, nipping at his ankles from close enough away to heat his flesh. Before the assault could reach him, he lunged from the ground with everything he had left, his body swinging with the arc of the anchored cable. As the ground behind him erupted upward into a fount of dirt and stone, he was in the air, his lithe form slung upward behind the tension of the cable.
In a few heartbeats, the cable carried him up into the air above where the platforms had once been. Before long, a blaze of red bolts tore through his lifeline, and instead of gracefully swinging up, Shang started to drop. His eyes caught another free-floating fragment of scorched steel, and his fingers desperately grabbed at the hot, jagged metal. Before his brain had time to react to the pain, he had pulled himself up onto the once-living platform and jumped up toward the remaining vessel.
Perhaps it was adrenaline.
Perhaps it was just some dumb luck.
Either way, Shang Tsung managed to slip into the cockpit of the strange, cramped fight with solar heating panels for wings. The engines roared to life after he raked his blood-stained palms against a series of buttons, and with a lurch, the future-tech fighter jet dropped from its stasis as energy beams scorched the air around it.
The initial shock of still being alive quickly subsided as small klaxons screamed inside the tiny space, warning Shang that he needed to avert his current trajectory. With the joysticks to his sides the only things he hadn’t already smacked or mashed, the sorcerer clutched them both and yanked back on them. Although there was a brief and terrible stuttering from the engines, the ship pulled up out of its suicide dive just a handful of meters above the floor of the Colosseum.
As he pulled up to gain more altitude, there were additional warnings all around the view screen. Whoever she was, the woman was more qualified to pilot spaceships, and since he hadn’t eaten a pilot in years, he knew this was a fight he couldn’t win. In the few seconds it had taken him to veer the ship back up, the woman had already pulled in line behind him. She would need just a few more seconds to punch his fighter full of burning-red holes.
A man of learning and finesse, Shang Tsung opted for the uncouth and unorthodox response to a more skilled opponent stalking him. He took his bloody fist and punched the red button that lay off to the side of the control panel.
The ‘Eject’ button.
![[Image: Shang.jpg]](http://www.omniverse-rpg.com/images/Shang.jpg)