Difference between revisions of "Shopping Nall 2: Mika's Fate"

Latest revision as of 12:11, 23 February 2012

The LMS Outcast is docked here. One can hardly miss the bright yellow and the smiley face among the Outverser berths. Its first mate, the Hekayti nicknamed Tauro, looms at the top of the boarding ramp, his arms folded and mood sour.

If one is looking for Mika, they can find her at the mouth of the decontamination corridor, leaning against the holomap's projector and utterly screwing with its sensors - the bright red YOU ARE HERE points directly to her head. She looks about as concerned with the gravity of her task here as she is about anything, and picks idly at her datapad while twirling a lollipop in her mouth.

Tauro is less cavalier. He glowers around the landing bay before turning to disappear back inside the freighter.

There's three figures that have been waiting for that particular ship to come in, standing off by the shuttles. All of them wearing the same armor bearing the logo and blood red paintjob of the Red Eclipse mercenary company. And all three of them heavily armed. The one carrying the large scimitar on his back and wearing the ablative heavy plated armor, jerks his thumb to the Outcast as it lands. "She's here." a gruff digitalized voice states through his helmet's vocalizer.

Dirionis stands not very far from the outcast, suited up full in his Red Eclipse smartsuit. Blue opticals swivel towards the ship and the merc leader nods calmly. "Good, just in time." His voice is slightly altered through the helmet. He waits patiently near the boarding ramp with the other two. Arms fold together, his helmeted head craning to look around the area.

Medveda, the vaguely female-shaped merc with a couple of smaller weapons holstered at her sides, just nods and grunts in agreement. The Fox has recently been taken in for a landing, its engine barrels cooling as it sits on a landing pad. The entry ramp opens with a hiss, spilling the light of the Fox's interior onto the pad to mix with the light cast by the advertisement boards.

Bathed in the Technicolor ambiance of the locale, Rillitan stands away from the claustrophobic landing areas and stares at a flat screen as a noisy and hyperactive advertisement plays.

"Cracker-cracker-cracker-cracker-cracker." The advertisement flashes colours and shapes at it's audience, seemingly repeating the same word over and over in an eclectic but memorable tune. A cat flies across the screen, followed by a rainbow. A brightly coloured snack food plasters itself on the screen. "CRACKER!"

The glances thrown toward incoming ships signal that Mika knows they're there, but the rogue holds up a stalling finger, eyes urgently glued to the tablet's display. Have the mission parameters changed? Do they need to flee? Is the Vox parked in orbit, waiting to descend upon them? No. She's watching a soap opera.

"Duskysnout," wails the stereotypically underclass Demarian to her equally typecast noble paramour. "There's... there's something I need to tell you. Blackclaw... has /had/ me, once before!" Cue dramatic weeping. She turns away sharply, face buried in her paws.

Duskysnout grips her by both shoulders. "No! My love! Say it isn't so!"

"It's okay," the underclasser says tearfully. "I've had my virginity repaired. With... with /cybernetics."/

Mika is breathless. "God, /yes."/

Standing with Rillitan and leaning casually against his side is Tiana, her snuggled position no surprise to any who know of their particular attachment to each other. She seems a bit more enthralled with the obnoxious commercial, and it's ever so obvious it's because there's an adorable cat flying across the screen in technicolour. Oh, but only if she knew of Mika's soap opera. IF ONLY.

Volk, the one with the sword heads toward Mika, sopa opera be damned. He's got a job to do, and he's being paid good money for it. There's a vauge flick of his fingers at the two other Red Eclipse with him. Heavy booted feet announce his approach before he actually reaches the Sivadian. "Now that's acting." he muses, though his mirrored visor suggests nothing. "I heard Duskysnout has been cheating on her for ages. Tragic, really."

Fauze is hanging on the underside of the Fox. Grimy landing areas are his favourite place, plenty of warm spots for sleeping in. Currently the visored tupai is chewing nervously on his right wing and chittering to himself. He's clean, freshly brushed, and smells of expensive tupai shampoo, but still manages to look scruffy.

A dark green shuttle bearing reddish-orange Naliese markings enters the docking bay from the vacuum beyond. Once it settles on landing skids, the shuttle vents plumes of white-gray steam from under the belly and nose. The hatch thunks open, a ramp descends, and a small figure in charcoal robes trimmed in crimson walks down the ramp.

Dirionis moves with the other merc towards Mika and the award winning soap opera. There's only a slight chuckle through the helmet before he asks Mika, "You ready?" The Lunite boss glances out over the area again, spotting the Nall ship arrive. "Showtime." He sticks near Mika, though not too close, serving as a bodyguard.

As if suddenly remembering that she is in a public venue that might not appreciate the completely artistic and tasteful storytelling of "Alhiran Nights," Mika claps the 'pad to her chest and jealously guards it from the riffraff, shifty-eyed with self-conscious suspicion. "It's /art,"/ she snaps defensively, immediately tucking the device away and finding something else to look at.

As it happens, that thing is an unmistakably Naliese vessel, and every inch of her wiry frame tenses when she spots it. The Dead Hand's lollipop shifts from one corner of her mouth to the other with the roll of her jaw, and she pops her collar. "Ready as a jackrabbit on a date," she tells Diri, starting toward the ship and lifting a hailing hand toward the robed reptiloid.

Medveda moves with the other two Mercs, taking up a position so they can cover the blind spots. Blue optics slide over to the soap, narrow slightly, and then are drawn right back to the action. "Da," she rumbles through the helmet's speaker.

Rillitan reaches down and pulls out a knife from his hip, offering a glance down at it for Tiana, "Hey love." he murmurs, nodding at it, "I got this'n inscribed for ye'."

The Nall priestess draws back the hood of her robe, revealing the pebble-fleshed snout and glinting black eyes. Fangs bristle as her tail lashes back and forth. She lifts her snout, sampling the air with a forked tongue, and then watches impassively as Mika approaches. She raises a palm imprinted with whorls and sigils of the Vox Nalia Church.

Reode is dangling beneath the Fox as well, not too far from Fauze. She's drawn up in some sort of texting exchanging, tapping away at her PDA's keypad. If there's one thing thumbs are great for... The goings-on have her edging towards the Fox's wing, and she peers towards the Nall, beckoning Fauze over.

Pulled away from the entrancing commercial, Ti first looks to the knife, then up to Rill with an adoring, bright expression, "Awww, love! 'At's so sweet ah ye." Before she checks out the inscription, she presses in against the Timonae for a tight hug.

Mika has no god damn idea what she is doing, and if anyone hadn't already suspected that, she makes it perfectly clear with the amount of pomp and swagger she drags into this entire proceeding. When the priestess-seeming shows her palm, the piratical captain sweeps a low, theatrical bow, flourishing her coat and grinning exactly one tooth too wide.

Dirionis keeps an eye on the Nall ship as he stands behind Mika. A glance to Volk and Medveda, no expression shown behind blue optics. Then the Lunite goes quiet, focusing on the Nall.

Scampering across the hull of the Fox as if he'd been born doing it, Fauze climbs to Reode's side. Hanging there, he peers at the Nall from behind his visor and begins to chew on his wing again, a small slither of tupai saliva trailing across the scarred membrane of his wing.

Antaz of Hatch Vril, sister of the Vox and High Priestess of the Vox Nalia Church, lowers her palm and stares up at Mika. Matter-of-factly, she states: "You will sssurrender any genetic material belonging to our goddessss. At once."

And Volk is just here to do his damn job. The man in the large blood armor takes up a bodyguard like stance behind Mika. Far enough away to give privacy, but close enough just in case something negative goes down he's able to offer the pirate coverfire. However, he stands still, looking at the priestess squarely, then he tilts his head to look at the ship, eyeballing just perhaps wondering hom many Nall are on board. Probably a lot.

"Stop that," Reode chides, making to flick Fauze's nose. "Look," she whispers, pointing. "Nall. Something important, prolly. Well, I dunno' how important... Mika's involved. Just stay on your toes."

"I' says, 'stick me in t' 'arts o' enemies, jus' like ye' got stuck in mine. - Rill'." The Timonae smiles and offers it to Tiana, giving her a light kiss and keeping a line of sight past her at the proceedings.

Those outstretched arms becomes a braking show of palms. "Aw, is that any way to greet an old friend?" Mika asks of the diminutive warmonger, that stupid grin of hers stuck where it sits. "Let's catch up a li'l bit first. 'ow's th' Vox? 'ow's that whole /Vox/ thing workin' out fer 'im? /Kamsho,/ am I right or am I right?"

The priestess just stares quietly at Mika, tucking her clawed hands into the sleeves of her robes. She waits.

Medveda continues watching the ship and the... exchange.

"Fauze can't help it if he's fluffed!" Fauze complains, flinching from the flick but managing to stop chewing his wings. At least for a minute. "Fauze is should being in cockpit, yes? Making sure the uh... the buttons still working." He doesn't take his eyes off of the Nall though.

Dirionis remains quiet as well, the Lunite snickering a bit in his helmet at Mika's comment. Probably unheard, even by the mercs right beside him.

Mika, aware that all eyes are on her and that the show is bombing, straightens as awkwardly as a tanking comedian and fidgets further with the collar of her coat. "Yer goddess isn't 'ere," she admits simply. "Now, I got e'ery intention o' givin' 'er t'ye 'cause I'm a real straight-shootin' keep-yer-word kinda /honorable/ sort, but we needa lay down a li'l quid pro quo 'ere. I 'ad a /contract."/

Taking the knife in hand, Ti gives it an appreciative once over before it's twisted in her grip and slipped into a sheath hidden up behind her shirt, at the small of her back, "Ah love ye." The Martian murmurs, flushing happily and snuggling all the more in against Rillitan, peripheral gaze all she can mange to keep upon the proceedings with Mika while she keeps this position.

That gets a huff of bemusement from the Nall. "Name your termssss." Apparently, she's at least willing to provide ample rope for hanging.

"Naw, stay here, we might need to toss you at someone..." Reode stretches her neck a bit and swivels her ear towards Mika. "This won't end well."

"We don't toss Fauze like salad!" The male tupai grumbles under his breath and starts to chew his wing again. It certainly is delicious. Around his wing he manages to get out, "Mhow is Mph Reode knowing it won't ending well?"

There's probably not much going from the trio of red painted mercenaries, other than they're here to make sure Mika doesn't get herself killed. Though Volk, wasn't hired to prevent her from doing anything stupid. That wasn't in the agreement.

"I'll give ye Nalia. Live, walkin', talkin', breathin', fit as a fiddle an' ready fer conquerin'," Mika promises, one hand upraised - scout's honor - and fingers crossing her heart. "If ye can promise me that's wot she's gonna /do./ None o' this Vox Whozit-wotsit bus'ness. Me an' mine, we'll pick off 'is men jus' like those fellas did on Kamsho, 'elp ye out. Temporary allies. Then when it's all o'er? Well." She shrugs, scratching her jaw. "We regroup. Ten paces an' turn. An' we'll see wot glory Nalia brings ye."

"Why are we workin' wi' t' crazy woman, 'gain?" Rillitan asks conspiratorially in his wife's ear.

The Nall priestess seems to give this offer a few moments of serious thought. Then she turns and starts walking back up the ramp toward the shuttle cabin. She gets to the top of the ramp, turns, and says to Mika: "I mussst take your offer to my alliessss for approval."

"Well... it never ends well," Reode murmurs. She can't imagine what's so tasty about Fauze's wing. Unless. "Fauze, was that shampoo strawberry scented? Stop that! You're going to gnaw it off." She bats a wing at him, then promptly tells him to shush. "Somethin's happenin'."

Medveda was, in fact, hired to watch Mika's back, and that's exactly what she's doing. The optics move back and forth, quite frequently, as a matter of fact, but the merc offers no audible contribution. There's enough of that going on.

"Mmm... strawberry..." Fauze licks his lips and shushes, folding his wings around himself. His tail sways this way and that behind him, flicking the air anxiously.

"Watch that ship real careful," Diri reminds to the mercs beside. The armored figure leans his neck one way then the other, as if trying to stretch with his helmet on. Then he keeps quiet.

"Mostly 'cause ah wanted t'clean up an' snag some Nall weapons if'n things 'appened t'turn deadly." Tia murmurs back to Rillitan, whilst appearing to be engaging in nothing more than an affectionate nuzzle.

Mika's nervous tic starts up - she is rubbing the back of her neck. "Yes'm, ye... do wote'er ye gotta do," she allows, watching the little alien lope back onto her vessel for a heartbeat or three. Leaning back just barely, she rocks her head Medveda's way. "She said she wasn't gonna come in person. That she'd send a liaison. But that's-- that's def'nitely 'er."

The priestess steps through the airlock into the cabin of the shuttle where a trio of Nall warriors wait, clad in lacquered black armor. Two of them are carrying plasma rifles. The third is holding what appears to be some kind of green metal orb. Antazvril bobs her snout at the orb holder and says, "Give them our anssssswer." Moments later, that orb comes bouncing down the ramp toward Mika. Clank! Clonk! CLANK! Little colored lights are flashing around its equator. The ramp starts sliding back up to the shuttle.

Volk exchanges looks between the Nall, then Mika, then between Mika and the smaller armored mercenary next to him. "Do you think it's strange that she came herself?" Another glance over at Medveda....oh shit, that's not a bouncy ball. "Run. Now." He's already grabbing at Mika with armored hand to pull her back, while sliding the assault pistol out of its holster with the other.

Well, what Tia's attempting to do might not be immediately apprant to any but Rillitan as the girl slumps semi-limply in his arms, her attention and in some senses her /mind/ elsewhere at the moment. Let the Nall just leave? Yeah, not on Tia's watch if she can help it, the girl attempting to make the wireless connection through her datajack and hijack the shuttle's systems.

Tiana successfully breaks into the Nall shuttle's computer network and takes remote control of the shuttle. Of course, it's a little like taking a tiger by the tail. What to do with it?

"Don't forget speed alteration," Diri hisses out, his smartsuit humming lightly for a second as he activates the armor. Being the most experienced in maneuvering in the smartsuit, he rushes towards Mika, his long strides aided by the equipment. He helps Volk grab/lift/carry Mika and then moves to speed away from the explosion. "Go, go, go, go." He says over and over to Volk.

Rillitan moves around his wife as she slumps into his grip, pulling her to one side to protect her limp body from any heat or shrapnel that might ping their way from the presumed explosion.

Fauze sees the bouncing ball roll towards Mika and half of him wants to go chase it. Disregarding such silly ideas (it's probably not even filled with delicious cheese), the tupai scuttles back a few feet and watches from what is hopefully a relatively safe vantage point. "What's going on?" He chirps at Reode, frowning.

Medveda's armor starts to hum as she, as ordered, activates its speed-altering effects. She, too, lunges for Mika, hissing out "Cover us!" to the other merc as she does so.

And as things get noticeably heated, a previously observation-only spectator begins to toe the line into participant - albeit with great patience. A shadow slinks through the Outcast's hatch; felinoid, and as quiet as only Phyrrian construction can manage to make several hundred pounds of mechanoid. But as high at the shoulder as most humans' chest, there is no missing the Ariel unit's exit if one happens to be glancing that way.

Well considering Mika has three mercenaries all in powered up smartsuits being dragged, carried, whatehaveyou out of the way of whatever that thing is. And in Volk's mind, it's probably something that's going to blow up, he isn't aware of what Tia's done or that there's a Phyrrian cat-thing-abomination coming down the ramp. Keep Mika alive, that's about all he was ordered to do. So, he's doing that.

There's time for a single, defeatist "welp" in the split-second between the warriors' appearance and the grenade's launching. Mika watches the deadly projectile sail from those clawed fingers with all the impassivity of a woman facing inevitability, and it is not until the Red Eclipse begin yanking at her arm that her rational brain kicks in. That thing is going to /explode!/ Panic overtaking her, she begins an all-out effort to scramble out of range, flailing and thrashing as she is half-dragged along by the mercenaries, and swearing all the while. "Gimme a /gun/ gimme a /gun/ gimme a /gun!"/

"ACK!" is all Reode replies to Fauze with. She doesn't retreat just a few feet, instead detaching from the Fox's hull to fly up towards the rafters of the bay. "Do you want to get fried!?"

The orb beep-beep-Beep-BEep-BEEp-BEEP-BEEEEEEEEPS toward the end of its countdown timer, and then the emitters arrayed around the equator of the device explode with...well, it's a glowing green holographic image of Vox Hurk of Hatch Vril: "I do not know who you are or how you think you have come to know my sssissster, but I sssussspect it wasss in a reality different than our own. Or you are ssssimply mad. Either way, we want no part of your inssssane scheme. We are well sssshut of the goddessss. But *your* effortsss to raissse a rebellion againssst the rightful Vox of Nalia'ssss Children ssshall not go unrewarded." And it's about this time that five talons - three Nall each - scamper in from the mall and the cargo storage chamber adjacent to the landing bay. They're all packing plasma rifles and seem eager to use them. The image of the Vox goes dark, leaving an inert orb behind on the docking bay floor as the Nall take up positions to aim at Mika and her compatriots.

Tia is quite unaware of the goings on in reality, the digital world now her domain. As for the question of what to do with the shuttle? Well, the answer is to lockdown the hatch and minimize life support to the point where those inside will eventually pass out.

Upon realizing it's no bomb, Dirionis lets Mika down near a group of crates, his hand going to his smartsuit holstered sidearm and handing over a New Phyrrian-tech slug thrower pistol to her. "-Here-!" He yells out through his helmet, getting behind a crate as best he can as he hefts his rocket rifle up towards the Nall and proceeds to fire at the largest grouping he can spot.

The Nall targeted by Dirionis narrowly escape the incoming rocket as it explodes against the starboard bulkhead. It doesn't rupture and vent atmosphere...yet. But there's a definite weak spot smoldering there now.

Rillitan props Tiana up against a wall on the revelation that the bomb was, in fact, an elaborate carrier pigeon. He adjusts her, so she at least /looks/ comfortable, and turns to view the combat and be aware if it's coming their way.

"A holo-movie!" Fauze squeaks happily. His tail waggles behind him happily as he watches it play out, and the tupai sighs a little at the end of it. "A happy ending..." Fauze looks around for Reode. "H-hey! Where'd you going?" The light of advertisements washing in waves over the reflective strip of his visor, as Fauze unfurls his wings and flies after Reode towards the relative safety of The Fox.

The Phyrrian tasker's primary directive is not difficult to discern: the red-lensed eyes, savage stripes of yellow painted across head and shoulders, and the natural armory of any true feline species and the unnatural armory of a warbot would imply that anything in direct line with its loping path should probably move aside. However, Sigma seems oddly unhurried to join the building action; instead, it is quite content to slip through whatever shadows are available, circling around the main body of participants, aiming in its own circuitous fashion toward the hapless Mika Tachyon.

Medveda, having also released Mika now that the sphere is -not- in fact a thermal detonator, takes up position behind the crate cover and pulls a shotgun out of the sheath in the back of her armor. *tchick-chak,* the weapon is readied, and *CHOOM*, she fires towards Diri's target, hoping to catch them in a little crossfire.

The three Nall fired upon by Dirionis scatter in three different directions. One of them, unfortunately, runs right into the path of Medveda's shotgun blast. His snout erupts in a mess of flesh, fangs, and purple blood.

Like the rest of his Red Eclipse miscreants, Volk takes up a position with Diri and Medveda, assault pistol in hand. Far too many to take on in melee combat, so he'll have to regeulate himself to ranged. Spinning out of cover enough to shoot, he aims the high caliber pistol at one of the fleeing Nall from Diri's blast.

The shot from Volk's gun blows a chunk out of a second Nall's neck, and the warrior leaves a purple slick on the floor as it slides, twitching, to a stop against the port bulkhead.

"Well o' course /you/ don't bloody like it!" Mika fumes at the Vox over Diri's shoulder, giving lip as good as she gets and wrestling against her well-meaning protectors. It is not until a gun is shoved into her mitts that she shuts up and calms down and actually takes half a second to assess her combat situation - and my, my, what a situation it is. Where others take cover she leaps out into the open, springing onto Sigma's back like a speaker on a soapbox, her bright red windcoat advertising PLEASE SHOOT HERE while the pistol unloads a furious string of arguments toward the Nall shuttle's fuel line.

The shots from Mika's gun ping harmlessly off the metal plating covering the fuel line. But it certainly makes a lot of loud PANG-PANG-PANG sounds.

Reode feels a little more than foolish when the orb doesn't explode. "That wasn't a holo-movie," she snorts at Fauze as she lands atop the Fox. "Stay low, there's bad guys!" The shotgun blast has her flinching hard, and she thwaps down against the metal, covering her head with her wings. "Agh! Dun'let Tia get shot!"

Shots start zipping back and forth across the Galaxy Galleria docking bay, but the Nall don't seem to have much luck hitting their targets - save for Volk, who loses the heavy smartsuit armor and sustains some injuries from a plasma blast. Meanwhile, aboard the shuttle, Antazvril and her comrades are losing consciousness, sagging in their seats or dropping to the floor.

Whatever is going on around her, Tia remains fully unawares of and obviously completely trusts Rillitan to keep her safe from harm. Her roll seems to be keeping that shuttle, and more importantly, it's Nall occupants from escaping and that's exactly what she continues to do.

"Fuck," The merc leader says as he sees a Nall lining up a shot at him. He snaps his head back with just enough time to avoid it, the plasma melting a portion of a crate behind him "Reeee-loadinggggg!" Diri yells out, his helmeted voice echoing slightly as he sits back behind cover, fitting on another rocket. "What the -fuck- is she doin'?!" Diri says as he spots Mika gallivanting around on the Phyrrian. He remains behind his crate as he reloads.

Rillitan watches as one of the Nall warriors takes a cheap shot at his uninvolved ragdoll of a wife. He darts backwards, cybernetic limbs reaching out to pull her to one side to leave a scorched mark on the wall she once leant against. Taking care to move her further behind cover, the Timonae steps out once more, brandishing the knife she had tucked into her clothing. A metal finger points at the Nall and he moves steadily towards it. Quite possibly, they are now an unlucky Nall.

Don't let Tia get shot. Reode's words echo in Fauze's ears and the tupai adjusts his flight pattern, even as plasma bolts sail past him through the air. The tupai flies above the landing pads towards his boss. "Fasten your seat belts it's gonna be a bumpy ride!" He squeaks. He really has no sense for danger.

"Tch-chak!" goes Medveda's shotgun again, from behind the crates, and the low, subvocal growl that follows is made even more gravelly by the speakers of her helmet. Another shotgun blast is sent, this time towards the 'talon' of Nall that is currently targetting her fellow mercs. Extra prejudice for the one that hit Volk!

Sigma, if one relies on a heuristical model of Mika's past behavior, had most likely expected the erstwhile captain-pirate-salvager-what-have-you to be running *away* from it toward the center of the melee, and to require quite a bit of acrobatics to extract. From the jerk of its head and tail as it finds the woman abruptly barreling *towards* it, the re-tasked Phyrrian is now attempting to reassess and reprioritize its possible actions - but not before it already finds itself an Ariel-turned-surfboard. "Aunty Mika, this unit protests - !" it begins in a rare break from its typical silence, but there is no helping the extra few feet it pelts along its original path through sheer momentum ... right into the path of incoming fire.

The transition is as quick and smooth as the snap of a pistol's hammer. The warbot's head lowers in clear aggression, its forequarters slink to the side in a movement as fluid as any biological feline, and even as the bolt of plasma sparks across one shoulder plate - slagging a handspan's worth of metal to cherry-brightness for a brief second - it roars challenge through the bay ... and then promptly turns on Mika, attempting to snag a mouthful of her jacket at the scruff of her neck to drag off like an errant kitten.

The Nall targeted by Medveda adroitly dodges the blast, ducking behind a stack of cargo crates while waiting for his weapon's coils to recharge for another softskin shot.

Volk wasn't fast enough to get back in cover when the bolt of plasma strikes him in the shoulder. Ablative and angled pauldron deflects most of the shot, the plate popping off his shoulder. Without armor, there's little he can do but stay behind cover and not get shot at.

Mika topples ass over teakettle when Sigma changes the rules of the game, and for a frustrating few minutes the two are actually wrestling amongst each other instead of concentrating their ire on the Nall. /"Wait! Goddamnit! Listen!"/ the rogue barks, fighting for a handhold to swivel its face towards hers. /"Listen! Get ta that Nall shuttle! Co'er anybody wot goes with ye! Get in there an' secure it!"/

She does not wait for an affirmative, simply banging an 'attaboy' fist on the tasker's nose and yelling for anyone withing earshot. /"Somebody go with Sigma! An' I need a turret gunner-- an' /you,/ Batgirl-- with me, now!"/

And she takes off, low to the ground, as fast as her feet can carry her. Not toward the Outcast, no. Toward the Laughing Fox.

"AAAAAHHHHHHH!" Reode shrieks as plasma whizzes by. She flares her wings and simply flails about for a good minute, oblivious to all of the badassery going on. Suddenly, there is no Fauze! NO FAUZE! WHERE IS FAUZE. Reode scrambles atop the metal, towards the edge, spotting the scruffy green bat swooping towards Tiana. Then Mika manages to get her attention. Reode straightens and attempts to collect herself before diving to join the rogue.

Of all the times to wander out of a shuttle, John chooses now, the man busy playing Pacman on an old, battered datapad, humming to himself. He peers up to the going-ons in the bay with a blank expression, promptly turning about to try to reboard the shuttle, which has unfortunately for him, and his face, sealed its doors. Sputtering in protest, Wolfsbane whirls about, looking distinctly deer-in-headlights-ish for a moment, before taking cover behind a nearby stack of crates. Peeking out into the carnage, he spots Reode and that odd, drunk woman from the Olympus dashing around, and rushes out to join them. "I saw a note on my tent that you all had headed out!" he calls to Reode.

While six Nall wait for their plasma rifles to recharge enough to take another shot, the nine others step out and start blasting away at anyone they can get in the crosshairs.

There is a distinctly discontented-sounding rumble from the Phyrrian, and even if its stiff hullsteel features will not accommodate a frown, there is definitely the air of a glower in the look it levels upon Mika through the diatribe, ears pinned back sullenly. Nevertheless, considering the alternative scenarios - of which becoming a mount to the rogue's antics is now a distressingly real possibility - it seems to accept its losses and turn with a screech of claws upon the bay floor, launching itself toward the Nall shuttle at full stride.

The helmet around Dirionis's head retracts, the Lunite taking a couple gulps of fresh air and wiping some sweat off his forehead. He cranes his head around his crate to hear/see Mika and the Phyrrian. His eyes widen and he snaps back against the crate as another round of plasma flies past. "Fuck," He says, his voice clear for once. "FUCK!" He leans forwards to slap Volk's helmeted head, getting his attention. In one hand he offers a rocket. "Reload this after I shoot! Focus! Reload!" He yells over the commotion, nodding towards the merc, a hand set on his shoulder for the moment. "STAY WITH HIM!" He yells to Veda. The Lunite rises in a smooth motion, his helmet coming up and over his head once more as he fires another rocket towards a group of Nall. Particularly any firing at the mercs, because rockets work as good supression tools to keep heads down. Then the Lunite drops the unarmed rocket rifle at Volk's feet, grabbing the merc's slug rifle as he darts out of cover at a full sprint, his suit propelling each stride a bit further, heavy breaths heard through the comms to the other mercs as he hauls ass towards Mika, moving to scoop her up and away, towards the Fox. "Your fucking difficult to bodyguard!" He yells once more.

Three more Nall about ready to open fire again with their recharged plasma rifles get a nasty surprise when they're caught in the blast from Diri's rocket.

Rillitan's approach is rendered no less mockingly casual by the strobe of plasmic fire that burns into his shoulder. He winces, rolling his shoulder back where his reaction time was only just too short to dodge the shot entirely. He steps forward, an explosion of Nall ahead of him spattering an unpleasant pattern across his face and torso. The join between his shoulder and his cybernetic arm drips with hot blood and fluid, coagulating into a mess of painful looking gunk that shimmers as the Timonae raises his arm. He stabs downward at the Nall with that keen knife, a mad look in his features.

The Nall targeted by Rill deftly slithers away from the stabbing blade, feeling steel whisper along his scales as he tries to shred Rill's gut open with his claws. But Rillitan manages to spin out of his way. The two combatants are left to reset, slowly circling each other. The Nall hisses.

This isn't the first time that Fauze has been shot whilst doing something stupid, and it sure as hell won't be the last time. He is completely focused on Tiana and doesn't even see the plasma shot until it's splashed across his right wing. "Aaah!" He yelps, "This is gonna-" No-one will ever know what Fauze intended to say next as he crash lands a few feet from the Tiana and Rill corner of the station, sickly black smoke still trailing out from the charred hole in his wing. He sniffs and picks himself up. Fauze is a strong tupai, won't cry. Yet. With another sniff, he starts to scuttle his way towards Tiana's limp form, "Don't let Tia get shot!" He squeaks, seems a decent battle cry of sorts.

The string of multi-lingual obscenities that emits from Med's smartsuit speaker frizzes into electronic squelching, ending in an actually coherent, "SIR!" She reaches out, in an attempt to get Volk back into cover and hopefully not get herself shot in the process. "-Son of a bitch- I need cover fire!"

The crate covering Volk explodes into the sharpnel, a dagger like shard embedding itself in the one exposed area of his body; that shoulder that had been struck by the plasma round. There's a grunt in pain, and he almost blacks out, but then the thwap on the head from Diri causes him get his bearings, looking at the rocket round that's placed before him. Within part of Medveda's effort, they find their way behind another bit of cover, the man no longer worrying about the shard of metal that's sticking out of his shoulder and busying himself with the weapon. "One of us needs to get onto that shuttle." he bites out at the other merc while he reaches forward to shoot that other rocket at the next largest group of collected Nall.

Mika howls with very real pain when the blast catches her square in the back, punching a hole through her coat and clothing and burning a nasty chunk right into the small of her back - the Naliese tramp stamp. She buckles immediately, knees jellied and spine bolt-straight, collapsing onto hands and knees and desperately trying to find her feet again in a haze of pain. She is not successful. "Th' guns! Th' ship's /guns!"/ she hollers toward Reode and John. "Get in there an' use 'em! Clear a path ta th' Nall ship!"

Three Nall waiting for their plasma rifles to recharge hear the whistling of the incoming rocket oh-so-late, looking up just in time to see the explosion that scorches their pebbled flesh and leaves charred corpses behind.

It's everything Reode can to do to keep from screaming her terror as more plasma flies about, some shots hitting their mark. Mika, for example! Before she can panic, Diri swoops in like the badass he is and makes it rain. Reode reaches the Fox's hatch and flies towards the cockpit, with John hopefully in tow. "JOHN! JOHN! I DUNNO' HOW TO DO THIS!" she yells, landing on the weapons console and promptly spinning in circles. "Fixitfixitfixitfixitfixit JOHN!"

John dashes into the ship promptly behind Reode, crowding the controls with her, looking rather baffled as well. "What..I don't...THIS ISN'T PACMAN!" he shouts back at the Tupai, fussing over the controls as well. Finally, with a loud 'PEH!" he smashes his fist down on the controls.

Wormhole exits the shuttle behind John...ok, well...this wasn't exactly what he was hoping...with rockets and plasma flying everywhere...actually it was almost a beautiful sight to him...but he was full aware lives were at stake here...or already a steak...Wormhole looks for a crate to hide behind, and vanishes and re-appears behind it...non-corporeal he may be but that didn't make him invincible. He looks around for any computer access points, and then tries to count all the Nall. He looks around, "Anyone have a grenade?"

The three Nall in range of the Fox's turret gun happen to be near the starboard bulkhead. They only narrowly escape the blasts fired by John. The bulkhead's not so lucky. Already weakened by the earlier rocket blast, it buckles and there's a shrill hiss as air starts leaking through. Not a vast sucking maelstrom yet, but flimsy manifest slips are starting to flutter.

Whatever happens around her, Tia still remains unawares, her limp form slowly sliding further and further down the wall it's propped against, stray bits of hair beginning to flutter with the leak of air passing through the damaged bulkhead. Sigma will get no resistance from the Martian, the tasker well familiar to the martian - the only phyrrians she's ever been fond of were the felinoid ones, after all. Now to hope someone makes sure she gets pulled to safety - lookin' at you, Rill!

Dirionis gets Mika to the Fox before disappearing inside. Did his job. She's alive.

Explosions are secondary to Rillitan's requital as the knife spins in his hand so he might jab forward instead of stab downwards. His hair, too, flutters in the slowly building pressure wind, and it only proves to intensify his enraged expression. The Timonae, though acting in his wife's interests, does not turn away from his current fight. With a grunt, he moves forward and stoops, his blade swinging in for a deep cut.

It's a battle of the slitheriest between Rillitan and this troublesome Nall who keeps ducking, weaving, and slashing dangerously at Rill. Neither opponent scores a hit on the other, however.

Stars start to jump back and forth in front of Fauze's vision, his tail tugged by the breeze of the hull breach. He's found his boss, and gives her a gentle nudge with his foot. "Boss?" Fauze asks, frowning. "Wake up Boss! We've got to going. There are lizards and... lasers and..." Another sniff and Fauze's voice is broken, the poor tupai fearing he's lost yet another boss. Either way, the Fauze clings to Tianna with his wings, she won't be going anywhere for now.

Medveda pauses in the midst of reaching for Volk, the med-pack she was dispensing from the smartsuit slipping between her fingers and hitting the floor. "Well it sure as shit ain't gonna be you!" she hollers at him, "It ain't OPEN, whut the -hell- are you thinking? Son of a -bitch-. Too goddamn many of 'em!" Well, those three Nall who narrowly avoided John's blast? Let's see how that group likes some more crossfire! She sends another shotgun blast in their direction.

That's one unfortunate Nall. The crate is made of the same material as the one that exploded behind Volk. Same sort of thing happens here, except the metal shrapnel rips the Nall's head apart.

"This isn't up for debate! This has become bigger than either of us!" Volk takes note of the medpack, but the reploading Nall take precedence, taking his pistol back up into his hands. "We have to get on that shuttle! Nobody else is making any moves for it." From behind cover, he looks back at the commotion going on near the Fox and Outcaste. "We'll find a way! Maybe after we get rid of all these damn Nall!" Leaning off the side, he takes aim another Nall that's going to risk exposing himself to incoming fire. Hopefully one that was finished recharaging. Burst fire from his pistol sounds.

The spot Diri dumped Mika in was none other than the comm station, and in the jostling around and all her pained writhing, someone activated the external speakers. So not only is the landing bay getting hammered with erratic cannon fire, and the bulkheads springing terrifying leaks, but its occupants can hear every ridiculous god damn thing going on in the Fox's cockpit. "No goddamnit! /No!/ -- Ow!" Mika can be heard shrieking to someone - John, for those who can see. "Counterclockwise! /Counter-/clockwise! We 'afta get on that shuttle!"

Volk's shot spangs off the metal crate. The Nall hisses angrily, firing off a blind shot around the side of the crate in Volk's direction.

Reode flaps away from the console with a squeak when John pounds the 'fire' button. "YEAH!" she cheers, blissfully ignorant of the actual damaged caused. "High five John, high five! ... What now?" Thankfully, Mika appears to save the day. Or scream at John. This is something Reode can help with. "CLOUNTER-COCK-WISE," she shouts at the Fastheldian.

"Technology is /useless/!" John bemoans loudly to Reode and Mika, withdrawing from the controls and nearly running into Wormhole. "Those buttons fire!" he informs, quickly sharing his knowledge with the Riftwalker, barely giving him a second glance as he rushes back down to the entry ramp, unlimbering his bow. He finally catches at glimpse at the Nall, pausing there for a moment as his eyes widen. Small. Green. Hissy. The corner of his mouth twitches as the Imperial ranger nocks an arrow, aiming a broadhead at the back of the Nall fighting Rill. "DUCK, MASTER RILLITAN!"

Any impotence John might have been feeling due to his inability to control the very large turret guns should be ameliorated by the ease with which he dispatches a Nall with an arrow through the skull, sparing Tiana's man from a horrible death of shredding and ripping.

Wormhole looks to John with a blink, before he runs off again. He shrugs before he looks to some other Nall that remain. He thinks he found one...but oh wait...it was Fauze. Though, it was too late. Wormhole reaches out with a hand and focuses on a couple of crates, attempting to throw the pair at a potential unintended target...this was, after all, his first combat experience.

Well, the entire time that Tia's been leant against this here wall, she's been slowly slipping further and further down. Evidently, not far enough down to avoid a crate to the head. The jolt severs her connection to the shuttle abruptly, and now instead of being unawares due to that, it's because she probably has something of a concussion. Them's the breaks.

There is a prolific steam of curse words audible over the whine of the pressure break... and it isn't from Mika?

"JOHN SULLIVAN YE' DAMNED THEIF!" Rillitan shouts, enraged at the sight of his quarry falling dead at his feet (and possibly due to the arrow's close passing of his head). He turns around to shout more directly up at the Fastheldian while his metallic arm reaches to his chest and pulls away a round metallic object from his chest. "THA' WERE MY KILL! MY KILL! YE' AIN'T GETTIN' PAID F' THIS!" He spares some time gesticulating, jumping on the spot and wagging the object at John in his curled fist before he presses down a safety button and throws it, angrily, at the Nall behind the crate. He continues to rant.

The Nall behind the crate leaps to safety, sliding along the floor near the weakened section of the starboard bulkhead. One of his companions, weapon recharged, opens fire on Rillitan from another cluster of crates.

Fauze is for the most part unaware of the goings on of the battle. Wings wrapped around his boss, he's poking at her gently with the tip of his snout and waiting for her to wake up and spring to life. Certainly he's unaware of the crate that flies in his direction. That is until it smashes over him and his boss. The tupai slumps backwards, dazed for a moment, before he comes to his senses. "Who...?" Bits of crate and bric-a-brac litter his fur and surround him and his boss. Despite this, all he does is crawl back up to Tia and wrap his wings around her again, hopefully shielding her at least a little from future crate based attacks!

Medveda, having seen no change in the situation that would even make it -remotely- look like a direct run at the Nall shuttle would be anything -but- tragedy, sticks to her original plan of shielding her fellow mercenary, cussing, and shooting at the @#()(#&ing Nall.

Meanwhile, aboard the shuttle, the atmosphere is normalizing and the Nall are getting groggily to their feet. Headaches. Serious headaches. The priestess peers through a porthole at the chaotic scene outside. She hisses and looks to the Nall who tossed the message orb and says, "Get usss out of here. Now."

Volk is about tired of these muthaeffin Nall on this muthaeffin station. And he's wasted enough ammo so far. Exchanging clips, there's little he can do but team up with Med and try to peg the same Nall she's shooting at, all the while hoping that someone might do something other than run around screaming. Though it seems to of been effective so far.

The Nall behind the crate targeted by Medveda and Volk manages to avoid both shots, then pokes his rifle around the corner and opens fire without looking. His shot misses Volk by a broad range, spanging instead off the Fox's landing strut.

While Wolfsbane may think Mika's sudden silence on the ship's speakers is due to the rogue being starstruck at such a rugged display of manly prowess, it is only because she has been concentrating on what injury has made a monumental feat: hauling herself from her station to the one John just vacated. "Alright, Bats," she tells Reode, "don't soil yerself an' /'ang on!"/ And she grips the yoke to swing the turret around and fire on the Nall shuttle with more enthusiasm than skill. She even yells a crazed warcry while she's doing it.

The Nall shuttle lifts off the deck and arcs around - just as Mika fires the turrets and misses broadly. Yes, she misses the Nall shuttle. But she does take out the white sale that had been going on just the other side of the bulkhead the blasts DID strike. Most of the patrons and merchants probably made it out of the rubble alive.

Reode is content to be a bit too short to peer out of the viewscreen and witness all of the explody stabby slaughter going on. Saluting Mika, she clutches the rogue's leg, and is more startled by the warcry than anything else. "Gahh! ... Mika, Mika! Hey Mika! ... You missed!"

"You were going to be gutted! You're flailing around like a..." John shouts back at Rill, before the blasting of the ship's turrets cause the ranger to rush back into the ship. "You hit the wrong button! This one!" he shouts at Mika, pushing a few at random. When nothing happens, he grunts, and gives the side of the console a good kick.

Well, John doesn't hit the Nall shuttle, which is currently sliding out of the Galaxy Galleria docking bay and into the waiting vacuum of space. Instead, the turret spins and shoots directly into Wormhole's form.

Wormhole was about to inflict more Crate rain on the Nall...or at least he thought he was, when a beam passes right through him...his form obviously weakened. He turns to the turret not knowing what he should do...ok, so it was shooting at him...and...could he shoot back? No...not with a gun anyways and he was sure that crates wouldn't hurt the turret...he was sure the turret was shooting at Nall earlier...so he just figured it was a <Insert something here>...or maybe it was one of them toasters. He didn't know who was trying to kill who...or who was the good guys...he focused his energy he had left in his stunned body and tried to remove one of the barrels from the turret.

The barrel of the turret wiggles in its socket, but it does not pop loose.

And now the three Nall who have been waiting for their guns to recharge? Guess what! They pop out from behind their crates and open fire on Medveda, Volk, and Rillitan while the shuttle carrying the High Priestess slips away.

Tiana Ryoleli is about as limp as before, just now she has a big lump forming on her head.

Rillitan watches as his grenade rolls behind the wrong crate and knocks it sidelong in a moment of solemn silence. And then he starts raging again. He looks back to where John was standing on the Fox and shouts, "WHERE ARE YE' GOIN' NOW! WHAT ARE YE' DOIN' WI'..." The Timonae takes a shot to the lower back and it fizzles through his flak armor. "OW! OW! THAT. YOU BLOODY NALL'RE - WHAT?! JOHN, STOP THAT! DON'T AIM IT THERE! MAZA! STOP SHOOTIN' AT T' CIVILIANS! I NEED YE' T' SHOOT T' NALL!" He gesticulates behind the few remaining crates like there was something on his finger he was trying to shake off. "Oh." He glances back at the atmospheric shield. "NOW THEY'RE GETTING AWAY!" He watches as the shuttle departs, ducking sideways as another Nall takes a pot shot and misses. His expression falls short of emotion again.

Rillitan facepalms. He walks over to his wife and her Tupai blanket. Never mind the battlefield. "Love." He intones. "Can I 'ave a new crew?"

Fauze blinks up at Rill from behind his visor. Is it just him, or is everything a lot more quiet since the crate hit him? He blinks again and the stars are back. Many many stars. "Hey... ugly... shh... fireworks." The tupai manages, before slumping against Tiana, ears tilted downwards tiredly. Rillitan drags Tiana and the tupai aboard the Laughing Fox.

Medveda is hit, the smartsuit taking the brunt of the blow, but there is some sizzling and an increased amount of cussing as the merc's arm is plasma-burned. She pulls herself over to the also-wounded Volk and tries, again, to drag him behind cover with her one good arm.

"No goddamnit /no no no/ it's /this one/--!" Mika's shrill rasp protests over John's insistence, and the two find themselves tangled up in a tenth-grade slap-fight before the she finally yields - and somehow finds vindication in the fact that he shot an innocent bystander. She guffaws with crowing laughter at his expense - laughter which does not abate even slightly when she heaves herself into the navigator's position. ... And straps in. And runs pre-flight. And oh god the engines are starting and the thrusters can be heard roaring and suddenly the Laughing Fox is pulling out of the bay to actually pursue the Nall. And the worst part? "Keep shootin'," the pirate tells John.

Now, of course, is when several large vessels - including the Nall flagship, the Eye of the Goddess - drop out of FTL in a circle around the Galaxy Galleria. It looks like Mika is going to have to make a rather important choice. And those left in the wreckage of the mall landing bay...might want to look for somewhere safe to hide where the Nall can't find them, because the leftovers in this chamber are liable to get fresh reinforcements very soon.

Reode flinches at Rillitan's enraged screaming. "Gahhh, he's going to kick us all! Stop doing that, John!" Mika fires up the ship, just as Reode spots an unconscious Tiana and a Fauze with a hole in his wing. "Oh gracious! FAUZE! WHAT DID YOU DO TO TIA!?" A sudden lurch of the Fox has Reode sprawling on her front. "Wha'!"

Oh gosh. The ship is flying. John /still/ hasn't gotten used to this, but he was told to shoot, and so he does! At least he knows what buttons to hit. /ALL OF THEM/.

The shot fired from the turret misses as the Nall pilot jukes the shuttle sideways. Apparently, John just made the choice for Mika. She'll need to do some fancy flying to avoid cannon fire from the Eye of the Goddess.

It's a groggy, disoriented and headachey Tia that regains some grasp on reality upon the bridge of the Fox, "Who the /fuck/-" A rare day for the Martian to swear and moreover, sound so grumpy, "-'it m' wit' somethin'?! Ah bloody 'ad 'at damn shuttle!" Of course, her husband's infuriated shouting may very well drown out everything she says. With noodly arms, the girl tries to push herself up into a sitting position, meant to lead into standing. Of course, the jerking lurch of the ship just flings her back down initially. Surely it's by Rill's insistence that she gets the idea to gtfo to the pods.

So maybe this wasn't a good day for Wormhole...at all. He should probably try to find a way out. He heads for the nearest exit he could find...maybe it be the mall exit, hopefully, while he still could. He was unaware of the surroundings as he was still stunned from being wounded...it wasn't know graze shot.

Lights are flashing, lasers are flying, somewhere along the line Fauze was separated from Tiana. He scrambles along the ground towards the flight pods, buffeted this way and that. His ears swivel as he hears Reode yelling at /someone/. Someone must have messed up. That means the escape pods. And it's to the escape pods the tupai scampers, hoping everyone else is of the same mind.

Amidst the chaos, Medveda, the remaining active member of the mercenary group, drags herself, and her presently unresponsive fellow, deeper into the Galleria, beelining for the nearby Lotorian Army/Navy Surplus store in the hopes that putting a group of paramilitary nuts between the lizards and her team will increase everyone's chances of living long enough for the boss to show up and get them the hell out of this mall.

A chill walks up Mika's spine at the sight of the sudden fleet - and her face goes white as milk. There is suddenly more information than she can process; the HUD lights up like a Christmas tree and there is literally no time between one breath and the next to order Wolfsbane to desist. He fires, she seizes the yoke - but she is a junkyard dog, not a dogfighter, and the return fire from the Naliese ship slices through the Fox's like a hot knife through butter.

Her world goes dark for a minute and when the lights come on again, everything is washed in red emergency lights and alarms are screaming. It takes a minute to catch up with the world, but when she does? /"Get ta th' 'scape pods!"/ the Outcast's captain barks, though she makes no move to do so herself.. /"Now! Move, move, move!"/

All Reode wanted was some Orange Fucking Julius. Shit goes down instead. Reode abandons her flailing and screaming to dart after Fauze, tripping at least four times before piling into an escape pod.

John was just hitting buttons. Did he hit the wrong one? He punches a few more before following everyone else.

Wormhole approaches said door, he seems to try to see if door is unlocked by opening it like any normal person. The mall is about to the blow up and everyone still sales...well, then maybe he can still buy! Though...maybe that isn't his intention.

The five Nall left in the landing bay decide that, now that Antazvril's shuttle got away, it is honorable to beat tracks back into the cargo chamber and await extraction. Let the Clawed Fist Fleet take care of the meddlesome Fox and crew.

Safe in the pod, it takes a moment for Tiana to realize that someone's missing, "Mika?" Her voice quickly turns from questioning to frantic, the girl bolting upright and darting towards the pod's hatch as if she could somehow save the other Martian, one of the last links to a long gone universe she had, "Mika?! WHY AIN'T MIKA 'ERE?!" She turns quickly, gaze darting from person to person.

In an escape pod. Ship blowing up. Fauze's visor lights up like Christmas tree with potential readings. A HUD that shows the health of the escape pod, and another showing the health of the Fox, which is soon to be scrap. At least those stars have given their singing a rest for now. Boss is awake! Fauze slumps backwards in relief.

Wolfsbane tries to pry her out of that navchair, but Mika is not having it, and thankfully there isn't a whole hell of a lot of time to argue the matter. The Fox continues to rock and jolt, and as systems begin to go offline, the pirate eases herself forward, leaning on the navconsole and recording a brief message. When it's away, two things happen.

One, Tiana's PDA beeps.

And two, she watches the HUD, waiting for the escape pods to clear. When the last is away, the Outcast's captain pops her collar, flicks the thrusters onto auxiliary power, and with the last of the Fox's juice, the Hound guns the dying vessel full-throttle into the nearest and largest target, screaming like a banshee.

Fittingly, the target that Mika has chosen is none other than the Vestibule, the ship that served as command center for High Priestess Antazvril. The Laughing Fox slams into the Vestibule, right where it can tear into the reactor core and cause all kinds of colorful, fatal mayhem. When the blast subsides, there's nothing left of either vessel but scorched wreckage. The frustrated priestess must instead make do with seeking shelter aboard her brother's flagship. Once the shuttle is safely in the docking bay of the Eye of the Goddess, the Nall fleet ships that remain depart and begin accelerating to FTL velocity.