02-21-2017, 12:24 PM
As the initial layer of smog started to dissipate across Jacob’s Street, a pile of bricks and shattered wood started to shudder. A pair of shattered bricks fell away as a pale, bloodied hand forced itself up through the corpse of what had once been a storefront.
Feeling the breeze on his fingertips, Seventeen closed his eyes and mumbled one of his favorite phrases. A beat later, he felt the weight fade away as his aura kicked on around him and acted to quickly dispel the building materials. When he opened his eyes, he saw the roof of Coruscant—a city with a roof, ain’t that a hoot?—and smiled before dragging himself up to his feet.
His eyes had barely the time to focus on the scene across the street when he heard the sound of rifle magazines being slammed home and a variety of safeties being disengaged.
“What the fuck are you doing?” A gruff voice barked as Seventeen lolled his head in the direction of the speaker. While the edges of his field of vision were still a bit blurred, the cyborg could clearly see who was addressing him. The man held an impressive-looking Gatling gun in his meaty fists. If that wasn’t enough, he had three heavily armed goons standing on each side. “You dumb, boy? You just wasted a thousand credits worth of high-explosives.”
“A thousand?” Seventeen slurred, his speech muddled by a split lip and some blood sloshing around inside his mouth. “I weigh a buck sixty… you need to talk to your dealers.”
The man with the oversized gun scowled as he moved his hand toward the trigger. “Why you knocking on our door, anyway? What business do you got with El Lago?”
“I’m he—” the cyborg paused midsentence to turn his head and spit out a mouthful of blood. He turned back to his new acquaintances and flashed a blood-marred grin. “I’m here to drain the lake.”
Silence.
Seventeen scowled. “Well that’s bullshit,” he muttered before swinging up his hand. “Bang bang!” In quick succession, two beams of energy erupted from the cyborg’s right index finger. One passed cleanly through the skull of the goon to the gunner’s left, but the other slammed into the big man himself without the same pleasing results.
The gunner stumbled backwards as a slew of curses escaped his chapped lips. As he tried to right himself, his cronies opened fire on the machine-hybrid, who threw up a ki barrier and grimaced as the hail of automatic gunfire crashed against his shield. When the man paused, either to reload or upon seeing their lack of breakthrough, Seventeen dropped the barrier and retaliated with a quick one-two of ki spheres. He caught the familiar burst of a human skull being blasted apart by energy, but he had to dive as retaliatory fire stitched across the ravaged street toward him.
Diving slightly backwards, Seventeen crashed onto the sidewalk and dragged himself behind a burnout shell of a car as the roar of a Gatling gun filled the street. The car wailed as its steel started to buckle beneath the onslaught.
Sure do wish I could orb right about now… Fuck.
Reaching behind his head, Seventeen grabbed the Power Sword and closed his eyes. His senses confirmed that three of the men were dead, but the gunner and a surviving trio were still active. As the Gatling gun ate away at the machine-hybrid’s cover, the other three were trying to circle around him. The ebony-haired fighter would have to act quickly if he didn’t want to be pinned down and brutalized. With both hands clenched around the handle of the weapon, Seventeen open his eyes and leaned to the left.
The cyborg grit his teeth and tossed the sword. The blade flipped head-over-handle for a couple yards before its business end sank through the chest of an approaching goon. With a guttural shriek, the man fell backwards, his gun discharging up into the air as he reflexively squeezed on the trigger of his gun with his last vestiges of life.
Knowing that direction was empty, Seventeen lurched forward and made it to his knees just before the assault rifles tore into his former seat. The Gatling gun’s path started to stalk him as he raced over to the dead man and yanked the blade from his chest. With a quick motion, he sent the sword hurtling at the gunner, who let go of his trigger before moving from the weapon’s path.
Seventeen rushed forward before the others could draw a bead on him. When he got to the gunner, he drilled him in the face with a right cross and tore the heavy gun from his hands. Without skipping a beat, the cyborg turned the weapon on the gunner’s allies, who were too slow to react. In a matter of heartbeats, they were both lying on their backs with a few dozen tiny holes torn through their chests. Before he could turn to deal with the gunner, Seventeen felt a sharp pain in his calf that was followed by the more familiar sensation of cold steel twisting inside his flesh.
“Die, you fuck!” The gunner growled as he drew a sidearm. Before he could put his foe’s forehead into his sights, Seventeen brought the barrel of the Gatling gun crashing down onto the gunner’s skull.
Now bent and belching smoke from its delicate mechanism, the Gatling gun was discarded like yesterday’s trash as the cyborg fished into his pocket for the little key-thing that the soldiers had given him. Before he had a chance to find it, he heard the sound of footsteps from inside the shattered hideout. He looked up from the corpse just in time to see a small woman leaning against a charred doorframe.
“Looking for someone?” Her voice was smooth, and her accent would have probably done wonders on the more lustful crowds.
“El Lago,” Seventeen inquired as he let go of the trinket and took his hand back out of his side bag.
“How can I help you?” She cooed as a little smile spread across her caramel-colored visage.
“Shouldn’t it be ‘La Laga’ or something?” The machine-hybrid questioned as he glanced to the corpses that littered the street. Reaching out with his right hand, he feigned a smile as he telekinetically wrenched the knife from his calf and willed it into his waiting palm. “I think people want you dead, Lady.”
“What do you want me?” She asked with a wider grin.
“In my chat history,” the cyborg shot back as he threw the knife at her.
With a frown, El Lago pushed away from the doorframe and let the knife sail passed her head. She threw out one of her delicate palms, and a moment later, a blast of water with all the pressure of a firefighter’s hose slammed into the chest of the cyborg. It carried him for half the street before he got enough separation to free himself.
“Of course,” he muttered as he summoned the Power Sword to his hand and slid it back into its sheath. “Let’s roll."
Feeling the breeze on his fingertips, Seventeen closed his eyes and mumbled one of his favorite phrases. A beat later, he felt the weight fade away as his aura kicked on around him and acted to quickly dispel the building materials. When he opened his eyes, he saw the roof of Coruscant—a city with a roof, ain’t that a hoot?—and smiled before dragging himself up to his feet.
His eyes had barely the time to focus on the scene across the street when he heard the sound of rifle magazines being slammed home and a variety of safeties being disengaged.
“What the fuck are you doing?” A gruff voice barked as Seventeen lolled his head in the direction of the speaker. While the edges of his field of vision were still a bit blurred, the cyborg could clearly see who was addressing him. The man held an impressive-looking Gatling gun in his meaty fists. If that wasn’t enough, he had three heavily armed goons standing on each side. “You dumb, boy? You just wasted a thousand credits worth of high-explosives.”
“A thousand?” Seventeen slurred, his speech muddled by a split lip and some blood sloshing around inside his mouth. “I weigh a buck sixty… you need to talk to your dealers.”
The man with the oversized gun scowled as he moved his hand toward the trigger. “Why you knocking on our door, anyway? What business do you got with El Lago?”
“I’m he—” the cyborg paused midsentence to turn his head and spit out a mouthful of blood. He turned back to his new acquaintances and flashed a blood-marred grin. “I’m here to drain the lake.”
Silence.
Seventeen scowled. “Well that’s bullshit,” he muttered before swinging up his hand. “Bang bang!” In quick succession, two beams of energy erupted from the cyborg’s right index finger. One passed cleanly through the skull of the goon to the gunner’s left, but the other slammed into the big man himself without the same pleasing results.
The gunner stumbled backwards as a slew of curses escaped his chapped lips. As he tried to right himself, his cronies opened fire on the machine-hybrid, who threw up a ki barrier and grimaced as the hail of automatic gunfire crashed against his shield. When the man paused, either to reload or upon seeing their lack of breakthrough, Seventeen dropped the barrier and retaliated with a quick one-two of ki spheres. He caught the familiar burst of a human skull being blasted apart by energy, but he had to dive as retaliatory fire stitched across the ravaged street toward him.
Diving slightly backwards, Seventeen crashed onto the sidewalk and dragged himself behind a burnout shell of a car as the roar of a Gatling gun filled the street. The car wailed as its steel started to buckle beneath the onslaught.
Sure do wish I could orb right about now… Fuck.
Reaching behind his head, Seventeen grabbed the Power Sword and closed his eyes. His senses confirmed that three of the men were dead, but the gunner and a surviving trio were still active. As the Gatling gun ate away at the machine-hybrid’s cover, the other three were trying to circle around him. The ebony-haired fighter would have to act quickly if he didn’t want to be pinned down and brutalized. With both hands clenched around the handle of the weapon, Seventeen open his eyes and leaned to the left.
The cyborg grit his teeth and tossed the sword. The blade flipped head-over-handle for a couple yards before its business end sank through the chest of an approaching goon. With a guttural shriek, the man fell backwards, his gun discharging up into the air as he reflexively squeezed on the trigger of his gun with his last vestiges of life.
Knowing that direction was empty, Seventeen lurched forward and made it to his knees just before the assault rifles tore into his former seat. The Gatling gun’s path started to stalk him as he raced over to the dead man and yanked the blade from his chest. With a quick motion, he sent the sword hurtling at the gunner, who let go of his trigger before moving from the weapon’s path.
Seventeen rushed forward before the others could draw a bead on him. When he got to the gunner, he drilled him in the face with a right cross and tore the heavy gun from his hands. Without skipping a beat, the cyborg turned the weapon on the gunner’s allies, who were too slow to react. In a matter of heartbeats, they were both lying on their backs with a few dozen tiny holes torn through their chests. Before he could turn to deal with the gunner, Seventeen felt a sharp pain in his calf that was followed by the more familiar sensation of cold steel twisting inside his flesh.
“Die, you fuck!” The gunner growled as he drew a sidearm. Before he could put his foe’s forehead into his sights, Seventeen brought the barrel of the Gatling gun crashing down onto the gunner’s skull.
Now bent and belching smoke from its delicate mechanism, the Gatling gun was discarded like yesterday’s trash as the cyborg fished into his pocket for the little key-thing that the soldiers had given him. Before he had a chance to find it, he heard the sound of footsteps from inside the shattered hideout. He looked up from the corpse just in time to see a small woman leaning against a charred doorframe.
“Looking for someone?” Her voice was smooth, and her accent would have probably done wonders on the more lustful crowds.
“El Lago,” Seventeen inquired as he let go of the trinket and took his hand back out of his side bag.
“How can I help you?” She cooed as a little smile spread across her caramel-colored visage.
“Shouldn’t it be ‘La Laga’ or something?” The machine-hybrid questioned as he glanced to the corpses that littered the street. Reaching out with his right hand, he feigned a smile as he telekinetically wrenched the knife from his calf and willed it into his waiting palm. “I think people want you dead, Lady.”
“What do you want me?” She asked with a wider grin.
“In my chat history,” the cyborg shot back as he threw the knife at her.
With a frown, El Lago pushed away from the doorframe and let the knife sail passed her head. She threw out one of her delicate palms, and a moment later, a blast of water with all the pressure of a firefighter’s hose slammed into the chest of the cyborg. It carried him for half the street before he got enough separation to free himself.
“Of course,” he muttered as he summoned the Power Sword to his hand and slid it back into its sheath. “Let’s roll."