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Rillitan plods out of the command center, or more accurately, he stomps. He clomps. He gets down on the floor and walks the freakin' dinosaur. He's just ill tempered, as one might get when trying to plan boom boom kaboom.
Franceza is leaving the mess hall right about the same time, murmuring a tune of the fluffy, happy kind, hopelessly out of tune. Might be because she's munching on a bag of fries, or just a natural talent to kill music. "Mmm-boss!" She calls out, y'know if Tirax is on board? Cause I got something real schmancy to show his ass." She holds out the fries, all brow wiggles and smug grins.
"'ey don't look like sup-pos-itorites t'me, love." Rillitan grunts, peering over the chips with an idle look of menace. You know, his normal look. They're stood outside of the command center.
"No, it's fries," Fran snorts, retrieving the ones she's eating her way through, "Made 'ehm myself. Well, a bit." She squints up at Rillitan, "So, no clue?"
Darris comes meandering up the corridor, Joca on with both hands around his elbow and he himself looking rather happy and relaxed
"Ain't seen 'im. Wouldn't mind 'im on board, though, wi' wot we're tryin' t'pull today." Rillitan grunts, "You make sure t'Old Daisy's all workin' like it should, right? All'greasy?"
Jocaira saunters in on Darris' arm, having traded her 'mercenary hootchie mama chic' for something a little more functional. A little. She catches sight of Fran and Rill and does that obnoxious 'mall girl' squee of recognition. "'allo, Frannee!"
"Mmmh..." the engineer realises, "That's today?" About to answer, she's distracted by Joca's call and might have skipped and ran straight over were it not for fries. She tosses one in, waves a greasy hand and grins wide, "Check this, accidentally made a last supper!"
Darris waves to both and looks amused all around, "A last supper? How did you do this by accident?"
"S'worse is'at she was gonna put'em up Tirax' arse." Rillitan comments with a bemused hunch before he looks back into the open hatch of the Command Center. "Tiana gotten back t'us yet?" he shouts in, fidgety agitation tapping against the bulkhead.
"...no!" replies the Command Center, or at least someone inside.
"Eeehn?" Joca tilts her head, her expression 100% noncomprehension. "Whose last supper?" She squints at the fries, and then looks up at Franceza with a serious quirk of her eyebrow. "I can sink of bettair sings to put..."
Blink. Franceza rounds on Rillitan, waving a greasy finger under his nose, "Was not?! It's just a..." She glares, starting at Rillitan, ending at Darris, "You're making fun of me." A foot taps, "And for your information, I watched very carefuly when he did it exactly how I told him to do it." And how she read on a PDA how fries come into the world. Joca gets an elbow in the ribs. "Do we have time to fresh up a bit?"
Darris looks a little green at the imagery and clears his throat, "Uh, okay then."
As best as he can, Rillitan guffaws, "Fresh up for what?" He asks, looking between Franceza and Darris and, well, he levels a flat look at Jocaira. "No." he groans, "Nope."
Jocaira makes a 'whuff' noise at Fran, and disentangles one hand from Darris' arm to bat at the engineer. "Paaaah, you are fresh -enough-, Frannee. Hee hee hee. Wait, who did what se way you said when you were watching?" She squints back at Rill. "No -what-?"
"That cook guy of course," Fran snorts as if things weren't terribly obvious. "Just takes really really hot oil which," squinting at the boss, "Our friends would look mighty good in. Maybe there's a way we can make ourselves a little kebab?" She swallows, digs up the last fries, "Talking about which, think I should get my suit?"
"Am I the only one terribly confused about this conversation? Cause I feel like the only one terribly confused by this conversation." Darris notes indeed looking terribly confused
"We ain't takin' 'er, Mezzik's boys 'ave /guns/." Rillitan mutters. "Y'might as well take one o'Tia's blasted cats an' put it in a bloody flak jacket, all t'good it'll do." the Timonae protests, mostly to Fran. Altor has arrived.
"Somesing about boiling oil. Are we 'aving a seige?" Joca says, patting the confused Darris on the arm. "Ain't taking who -where-? Who is Mezzik? What are we even talking about?" Everyone is standing near the Command Center; Joca is on Darris' arm, Fran is eating some fries, and Rill is being grumpy.
Franceza coughs, the last of the fries taking a wrong route south, "What? Isn't my idea, don't you be lookin' my way none." She looks over her shoulder at her friend, asking Joca, "Can you shoot?"
Darris looks at Joca then Rill, "Eh, she can take care of herself of that I have no doubt but what are we doing and why not ask eh? Give the choice at least and besides if anything gets harsh I can protect yeah?"
"Coherance, Darris, y'ain't got none of it!" Rillitan retorts, "We're gonna be puttin' a bomb on 'eir ship, right? Or at least, Fran'll be, while we sweet-talk a distraction." he nods to Darris.
A nearby vid-screen flicks on, a sleepy faced Altor on it. "Yo folks... what's happenin'?"
Jocaira makes a 'so so' gesture to Franceza. "Eh, I am okay wis epistol, porquois?" When Darris says that he'll protect her, she gives him a notably funny look. She levels a somewhat -less- funny look on Rill, although it is still absent of the 'tee hee dippy girl' that is her general default. "What kind of sweet talk, sen? Actual sweet talk or making se violence?"
Okay, what? Franceza turns to Rillitan, visibly paling around the nose, "Wait, I'm gonna do what?"
Darris shrugs to Joca, "Hey I said I thought you could take care of yourself," He nods to Rill, "Hokay, can do distraction, can I punch one of them?" he gives Fran a thumbs up, "Cool, that sounds like a fun thing to do, make with the boom."
"Put a bomb on 'eir ship." Rillitan replies, giving Altor's projection a quick nod, "You know 'ow t'do bombs, righ'?" An incredulous look is levelled at Franceza.
"Bombin' ships? Sounds like a party." Altor's image says.
"But of -course- I can take care of myself," Joca huffs at Darris -and- at Rill. "Garcons stupides, pensent qu'ils sont si difficiles."
"I know how to run," Fran blurts, returning Rill's look in kind. "That's it, if you want me to go in deep, I'm getting my suit." Already she's pacing away. "And someone better get me a gun too! Fanculo, settin' me up with a fuckin' bomb like that."
Darris sighs and sticks his hands in his pockets, "Women." he mutters and just gets ready to do whatever he has to do.
In a crossfade that would make even Lucas proud, we find out intrepid crew on board the Old Daisy, flying FTL towards Hekayti space. On board the shuttle, there are a few more familiar faces, most notable is Dr Sexy, who clears his throat at the gathered crew in order to get their attention.
Dr Sexy, with a large PDA in hand, brings up an image of the destination: Jubait, a corporate-owned border planet in the middle of terraforming operations. Information regarding it's name, progress and corporate information is displayed on the holographics, and transmitted directly to Altor.
"Ahem." Dr Sexy says, once more, "I have prepared a number of breathing aids for you. The last public reports on the atmosphere put it at around 80 percent oxygen. At that level, with such low pressure, breathing it for too long puts you at risk of pneumonia." He indicates the gathered equipment.
Rillitan grunts something typically R-rated before leaning forward and grabbing one of the breathing aids for himself.
"One of the times I'm glad I don't have lungs." Altor's voice says.
Jocaira, apparently having been brought along anyways, saunters over to said equipment. She peers at it, peers at the doctor, shrugs, and then picks one up. "'ow does it work, sen."
Smiling at the doctor, Fran punches the armor she struggled into earlier, "Think the suit trumps your gizmo doc, I'm good." Says the expert. A bit of a quieter glance at Rillitan, "So how do you s'pose we're to do this."
Darris grabs some breathing gizmos to put on himself and goes about getting ready, all work now
"Sublight mark in two minutes." comes the voice of Prince, the pilot, across comms.
Dr Sexy looks across to Jocaira and gives her a flat smile, assisting her to try the mask on, should she accept support. "The mask is pressurised, and it filters in small amounts of nitrogen and carbon dioxide to prevent hyperoxia. Listen, if any of you are feeling dizzy or disoriented, you're struggling to breath or your vision spots, you need to get back to this ship as fast as you can." He gives a light smile across to Franceza, but does not comment on her suit.
"Mezzik didn't give us much, gather, all for one and fuckin' leery as fuck, right? Y'know, Lotorians." Rillitan spins a knife in one hand, watching as the blade darts between his fingers. "Still, we managed t'get a location outta him, t'bossman Zahier, squattin' one o' t' vertical forests in Kepyiat."
On the holographic readout, the planet zooms into a map of a city, marked 'Kepyiat', as he speaks it's name.
"Figure the only people that live there are terraforming engineers, and they'll likely not pick us up at all. We got four landin' pads, we'll root around f'r 'im in t'buildin' an' you take out t'ship. Altor'll be supportin' wi' his sensor suite, ey?"
"You got it. Whatever we got, I'll sniff it out." Altor's voice says.
Jocaira murmurs an appreciative "Sank you, doctair," at the assistance, and then gives him the old completely blank smile and nod to the explanation. "But of course, you are se Doctair," she adds. "I will come back tout de suite if I am feeling faint." Franceza gets the smallest of smirks, and then the frenchwoman pulls back her jacket, revealing some kind of fine, glossy black bracing visible where her tank top does not cover, etched with faintly glowing cerulean runes. "Ahn, find se best sings in se armor lockairs, ouis, Frannee?"
"Yeahwellwhatever," The engineer mutters sourly, after a glance at her own formless bulky suit. She plucks at a binding, "So... Who's coming with me on the ship, cause I'd kinda appreciate a little watch my back?"
Darris looks over at Rill, "I can do that if you want, not a bad idea to have someone there to watch out for her."
"Coming out of FTL in five, four..." Prince's voice again chimes across the comms before, an unwelcome jolt forward, familiar to anyone who has flown in a shuttle before. "Sublight is go, switching to approach vector, touching down on planet shortly.
The protective plates that seal off the windows during FTL lower, now, so that the crew can get a proper view of the dusty brown and blue planet they're approaching.
Dr Sexy falls quiet, sitting back down and checking through his medical gear.
"That's fine," Rillitan replies to Darris, giving Fran a comfortable nod and what might be a 'happy now?' expression. He glances at the window, when the screens lower, "Altor," he grunts, looking out for the streak of blue that signals the other ship's arrival.
Altor appers with a flash and banks alongside the shuttle, getting a glimpse of the planet himself. "Lovely vacation spot." his voice says, dripping with sarcasm.
Jocaira grumbles a little bit and zips her jacket up all the way, flexing her arms and checking her hip sheathes.
Franceza wrinkles her nose back at Rillitan, in what very well can be translated as a 'See?'. She blows Darris a kiss, then searches for the button that'll close her helmet. Found! Swish. Then after a moment. Swish. And she holds her hand out, "The bomb? And maybe a hint how to set it off?"
Darris takes off a bag he has been carrying looped around his shoulder and hands it to Fran, "Here you go, or shall I keep carrying it till we get there?"
The Old Daisy descends below the foggy blanket of artificially created clouds that covers most o the equator of the planet, flying down lower and lower as it approaches the speck of dust that appears to be Kepyiat City. It takes but a moment before the very same speck of dust is revealed in it's true size, at least 2 kilometres wide, if not more. As the shuttle approaches closer, the buildings and constructions are made clearer.
Every one of them, it seems, is a space vessel designed to fold out, transform or root itself in as a solid structure. Clearer still, as the shuttle banks and flies around the permitter of a two large buildings, are the layers of plants and forest that have been brought along with the industrial equipment, in an effort to migrate life to what was once a dead rock.
"What eyes ye' got on t'ground, Altor?" Rillitan asks over the comms, giving the others in the shuttle a steely look. "I've got visual... switching to thermal sensors and EM scan...." Altor says.
"Ey 'boss,'" Joca says to Rill. "You want se usser people dead or just distracted? And if you want me to shoot, give me pistol, usserwise I take care of my own way, non?"
With a resigned sigh, Fran accepts the bag, opens it to peer in. "Here's to a good barbecue."
Darris nods and checks his weapon, sighing at the pathetic armor he has but at least it is something and going about making sure everything is working and ready for use.
The Old Daisy sets down on one of the four rather unhelpfully separated landing pads, "Cabin pressure has been set, doors are unlocked." Prince replies over the comms, "Altor, my sensors are having a hard time picking up your position, did we get ahead of you?"
Rillitan tightens his mask over his face and gives Dr Sexy a nod, pulling a pistol from his own weapon harness and offering it, handle forward, towards Jocaira, "Jus' take this an' point it in t'right direction." he intones, voice muffled somewhat by the mask.
"My sensors are showing static.." Altor replies. "I can't be sure if it's natural interference or if we're being jammed."
Jocaira takes the pistol and shoves it into her thigh holster. "I know whish way to point it," she says from behind her own mask, tone getting downright rebellious. Everyone appears to be getting ready to go off and make a mess of some poor sods. Fran is in a 'salvaged' smartsuit, everyone's checking weapons, and even Joca is not in her 'mercenary hootchie mama' chic today. Darris is looking disappointed in his armor.
Franceza closes her helmet once more, holds out a free hand to Rillitan, "Got one more?" Since she's pretty sure the bag with the bomb will not quite help her safe her life.
Darris looks amusedly offended at that but doesn't say anything, poor manly man, no love, no love
"I'm sure it's something to do with the local terraforming operations." Dr Sexy says, in response to Altor's communication, but he doesn't sound particularly sure.
Tirax emerges from somewhere, checking his knives and pistol. "Evening all," he says with a wide grin, rubbing his eyes. "Looks like I got out of bed just in time.."
"What do you think I am?" Rillitan grunts, at Franceza, "Mister pistols? Carryin' round loads o-wait, right." he cranes around, peering at the small of his back. There's a pistol there, too. He pulls it out and offers it to Franceza. "Oi Tirax." Rillitan nods, "Grab one o'them breathin' masks an' follow me." He readies his own rifle before leaning forward and tapping the door release.
Altor lands next to the shuttle and readies his own weapons as he watches the hatch start to open. "Show time."
"Eeeey, good mor-ning, sleepy'ead," Joca says upon Tirax's arrival, her eyes crinkling up in a grin over the breathing mask. "Monsieur Darrees brings me to se -nicest- places," she teases with a wink.
Franceza turns hearing Tirax's voice, whatever gesture she was going to make with her new toy in hand wasted when it bangs against her helmet. "Hey hon, come back in one piece and there'll be fries this evening." Proud mama. Rising to her feet, she snorts at Rillitan, maybe next time you'll think again on listening to your engineer when she's all 'yeah blow stuff up'."
Darris gives Tirax a friendly wave and keeps standing ready for action, it is very possible that in his mind is a cheer of "Blow stuff up, blow stuff up, blow stuff up,"with the occasional "Big boom, ~snigger~" however none of this shows on his face.
There's a heady rush of air as the door of the Old Daisy opens out and then upwards against the roof of the shuttle. The oxygen rich atmosphere blows warmth inwards and for Tirax, who might catch some of it before he's got his mask on, it would be a brief, heady breath of air. Intoxicating, even.
The landing pad connects to a large building that is almost entirely forested. Clues might lead one to suspect that this was once a domed space vessel and the strange shape of the landing pads themselves would support this. Large mechanical hinges connect the pad to the central forest floors, suggesting that all four of the pads might be capable of rising and creating a dome over the forest, for flight.
There is a path into the forest and one that leads around towards the other landing pad.
Tirax salutes Rill. "Yes boss," he says cheerily, grabbing a breather. "New boyfriend?" he asks Joca, pointing to Darris with the hilt of a knife. That goes back, it waved towards the man in greeting. "Hey Fran - as long as you're not cooking them, I'm happy," he teases.
"Hurr hurr." Rillitan grunts, moving out of the shuttle and looking back at the other Timonae, "She tell ye' she wanted t'put fried potatoes in yer arse, yet?" he asks as he gets a look towards the collected flora.
Altor scans the edge of the forest with his optics. "So tempted to ask if anyone's home..." he says in a joking matter.
"What can I say, cherie? I like a good time," Joca laughs to Tirax, and looks out over the forest and the dusty brown landscape. After a glance at her outfit, she grins, mostly concealed by the breathing mask but the tilt of her eyes is all wicked glee. "Mmmm-hmm... I do so like se good time..."
"It's a figure of speech!" Fran hollers at Rill's back, by the sound of her getting /somewhat/ worked up. She regrips the bag, checks her gun, stomps out of the shuttle, still muttering, "They were bloody good."
Darris chuckles at that and heads off to follow Fran looking extremely amused but wisely keeping his mouth shut
Tirax rolls his eyes at Fran and Rill, following the latter. "That's not a figure of speech I've heard before."
"Right, let's get this shit done, 'ey gotta be somewhere in this mess, eh?" Rillitan grunts, giving Fran a wicked grin before he stomps off towards the foliage.
The path that follows around the outside of the forest towards the other landing bay is simple and unobstructed, but it's also a fair walk...
"Right." Even in her armor Fran squares shoulders, heading in the direction for the pad, "Set your right foot out..." Sing-song, but also retesting how that suit operates again. Been a while.
Darris follows along after Fran giving her an odd look at the sing song, hokey pokey seemingly non existent from his time. He returns his eyes to the task at hand however.
Altor follows along behind the pair. "You put your right foot in, and you shake it all about..." he says continuing the song.
In the outlying edge of the forest that follows along the path around, a shape might be seen flicking between tree trunks.
Darris and Franceza can see the creature as it darts between one of the larger trees, what looks like a pistol in hand. It's about five feet tall, seems to be covered in fur and has a lithe, weasle-like humanoid body. It's tail flicks upwards and out of sight before all trace of it is gone once more.
"Darris," Franceza hisses, pointing her gun in the direction where she saw the movement, "You seein' what I'm seein'?" She crouches, waiting for the others to catch up, "You're the expert, now what."
Darris points his handy dandy rifle in the directoin of the creature, "Yeah, if you are seeing a furry critter with a gun and tail then I am indeed seeing what you are. Now we take cover and find out what the fuck."
Altor looks around for cover adequate to hide him.. gives up... just crouches, pulse cannons popping out of his forearms and locking into place. "I'm not seeing it, but I'll take your word for it." he says, aiming into the trees.
Perhaps the creature has realised that it's been twigged, because it does not make any further moves to skip between the trees. In the canopy above, some of the branches rustle in a way that wind cannot accomplish.
Elsewhere, the internal forested area is odd; metal flooring leads through an otherwise entirely naturalistic setting, even a few feet in there are still pockets of water and the rustling wind-on-tree atmosphere is overwhelming.
There is a faint humming noise ahead of the group.
"I'm glad I'm following you," Tirax says, glancing over towards the other group. He pauses at the sound, pulling out his pistol. "What's that noise?"
"Eh?" Rillitan grunts, "I don't hear nothin', you sure you... Wait, wossat noise?" Rillitan brings his rifle up, a paranoid expression pulling across his features. "Listen." he grunts, "Y'missed t'chat, but t'plan is f'r us t'make as big an' purdy a distraction as possible, hereabouts in'ese bits, so's all t'eyes are on us an' not t'ship." he slinks sideways into the foliage, so he can use it as cover, motioning Tirax to do the same.
Tentatively, though with a strong conviction of doing his job even in the field, as it were, Christoff Sexy follows along with Rillitan, Jocaira and Tirax. His nerves are most definitely showing in the light way he trembles, and then flinches with Rillitan mentioning some mysterious noise heard peripherally, "Oh no. Tell me it's not /her/ again."
Tirax does as he's indicated, taking cover a little distance from Rill, trying to use his psionics to get a better view on what's waiting up ahead.
The source of the humming, set in the center of the path, Tirax can glean a view of a water pump connected to a large vat, feeding water through to the local plant-life.
"Some kind of irrigation," Tirax hisses softly to the others in the forest group. "Not sure what it's doing there."
Dr. Sexy turns around quickly, eyes darting from side to side as he looks around, "Irrigation of the bowels?" He questions, a bit distracted by his own nervous paranoia, the doctor taking a few steps back until he bumps into Rillitan, effectively startling himself with a strangled squeak.
The forest path continues forward, the humming only louder as the small group approach.
"Joca," Rillitan gestures into the forest on their side, for the woman to head further in so she can provide support. A hand rises to his commlink and he asks over the channel, "You at the ship yet?" he asks.
The creature Fran and Darris refuses to make a further move, there is only silence from the edge of the thicket.
"Shit shit shit," Fran mutters, right before she comms back to Rillitan, "Not quite Super-Fran yet, and there's one with a gun in the, oh. Trees now." She takes herself and the bag in a sprint to the nearest cover, running clean by it, still getting used to the suit again.
Darris runs after Fran and moves to provide cover for her until she has found some of her own then finds some for himself, His rifle is pointed at the location where the trees are doing shaky things.
Altor keeps his own weapons aimed, ready for the first sign of something to blast. "Show me a tail, just try it..."
And above those in the forest, the canopies bob and ruffle as there is notable movement above them.
"Yezzz." comes a voice, from over the comms, "The Olympuz crew, at lazzt. Zzzo good of you to come... and so zzoon? Mezzik waz az pathetic as I azzzumed, to mezz up twice? I hope you punished him zzufficiently for me. I zzuppose, az thanks, I might not kill all of you. Boyzz." the channel cuts off, abruptly, to static.
"FUCK YOU, YOU WIRY LITTLE FUCK, I'MA KILL YOU AN' GOD DAMNIT." Rillitan screams into his commlink as the feed drops before looking back to Tirax and Dr. Sexy, "We go, now. Prince, be ready to take off, Altor, get them out of there."
Tirax's attention is distracted by the canopy moving around above them, already starting to back off. "Do we shoot?" he asks Rill quickly.
Dr. Sexy's wracked nerves as he reaches up to pull his glasses off and rub at his eyes is so great, he drops his glasses. He's not blind, persay, but the images he's seeing aren't exactly clear either. Not quite as bad as a certain German doctor, however.
Above Tirax, attempting to be as stealthy as possible, a Lotorian with a large knife gritted between it's teeth slowly climbs down and readies itself to jump down onto the Timonae. More pressing, however, might be the three other Lotorian's whom make themselves known by firing pulse shots down from above the canopy. One of them even swings down, holding onto the branch above with his prehensile tail. They aren't good shooters, but there's bound to be accuracy in the weight of their shots, right? It's not like those caught on the ground are special or anything...
"SHOOTING IS THE RIGHT RESPONSE, YES!" Rillitan screeches in reply to Tirax, firing off a round from his rifle without looking as he dodges backwards into as much cover as the tree trunks can afford.
Tirax throws himself out of the way of the shots, firing back into the canopy as he lands on his side, quickly rolling back onto his feet. "Shooting it is!" he calls back, clearly exhilarated by being in battle once again.
Shock, horror, panic! All of these things affect Dr. Sexy, who is unfortunately still fumbling for his glasses, nerves making it difficult to pick them up without dropping them again. Eventually he resigns himself to just getting a new pair and tries to dart for cover. He trips. He falls. It's all very anti-climactic.
Pulse shots scatter across the ground as Rillitan and Tirax manage to move quick enough that the Lotorian's can't get a shot on them. Dr. Sexy manages to dodge purely out of blind luck. That is a pun.
Tirax's shot manages to hit the Lotorian hanging from it's tail, at which point it goes limp and falls every so gently to the ground, thud.
The shadowy figure stalking Darris and Fran chooses their moment, popping out from it's cover once more, and this time aiming a pistol at the rather imposing set of Fran armor running past the cover. "GRAAAAH!" it cries.
Darris sees where the critter is pointing and moves to both block the creatures view and to take a shot at it. Squeeeeze goes the trigger and boom goes the rifle.
The Lotorian takes Darris' shot to the chest and falls back into the woods, presumed dead.
Franceza slips to a halt with a lot of Italian being muttered inside her helmet, swinging around in the end while trying to hold onto the bag. Seeing how Darris blocks her view, she -just- refrains from shooting, franticly looking for a way to get in that ship. "Boss..." she urges.
"You two go for the ship, I'll hold them off!" Altor says, standing and stepping in front of them aiming his cannons into the forest. He then sends a series of rounds into the shadows and canopy, to dissaude any others from trying anything stupid.
Almost as soon as Altor mentions the ship, it's engines begin to power up and it begins preparation to lift away. A large lazer (Lotorian lasers) cannon swivels towards the Olympus shuttle and a telling whine emits as it heats up in preparation for a shot.
"Altor, ALLTOOOOOOOR." cries Prince, as the pilot tries his best to will the Old Daisy's engines into action. Alas, he is not made of polydenum.
A couple more Lotorian's trying the same trick as those in the forest pop through the upper canopy and start firing down shots, entirely at Darris.
Altor spots the laser cannon powering up. "Ahhhh SHIT." he says, switching his weapons into his launchers, and sends a pair of missiles flying towards the laser emplacement. "FUCK YOU FUZZBALLS."
Darris picks out another Lot to aim at and squeezes the trigger yet again, he does try and make sure he still provides some cover for Fran but gets out of her line of fire if she tries to return fire to the Lots.
Careful not to have the bomb bump around while she's searching for a crack, vent or wide open door to send the explosives into, Fran runs around as fast as her suit will allow, trying to keep cover at arm's length while she's at it, "Come on come on come on... NOT DYING HERE!"
Altor's shot splits the arrow, as it were, and immediately erupts into a plume of fire and splodin' goodness. Fran, in her position nearly under the ship, is blown off her feet and backwards, the way she came from, towards the dense green forest.
The explosion rocks the trees back and forth as the heatwave expands, causing the Lotorian's firing shots at Darris a pause as they try to steady themselves. One of them takes one of Darris' shots to the shoulder mid-shake, falling backwards. Cue wilheim.
The ship itself veers off course as it's starboard engines struggle to match the weight of half the ship and it roars in mid-air frustration.
The Lotorian's in the forest continue to fire down at the two Timonae, pausing barely for a moment at the loud explosion...
Rillitan curses and picks Dr. Sexy up from the floor, as best he can, pulling the man behind one of the trees with him. "Get beh-" on the explosion he looks up, "WAS THAT US, FRAN?" he calls into his commlink. This is all bridged, of course, with the occasional rifle shot.
"N-no." comes Fran's voice, shaky, across the comm channel.
Off and away behind a tree with Rillitan Dr. Sexy is dragged, fuel for any yaoi fangirl's fanfiction. The poor Doctor is a bit wrecked by all this fighting, hands over his ears as he tries to drown out the sound of gunshots and lazer fire.
The Lotorian trying to sneak up on Tirax has some trouble climbing round to match his new position, but once he does the knife is taken into one hand and he jumps!
Wherever Joca has been during this entire fracas, with things exploding and people screaming and things falling out of trees, as the Lotorian leaps at Tirax, she leaps (not terribly quietly) to intercept, flicking a poniard out of the sleeve of her coat and lunging for monkey squirrel kidney.
"For the claaaaaa-ughhhh!" the Lotorian takes the blade into his gut and the two of them tumble sideways, not quite making it to Tirax.
Tirax spins as he's nearly ambushed. "Holy shit!" he yells in surprise. "I owe you one, Joca," he says, getting his breathing under control as he reaches to lift her off the ground. "Now let's blow this popsicle stand and get the fuck outta here," he says firmly, hustling back to the craft, firing shots behind him.
One last Lotorian at the edge of the forest pauses in their shots, trying to work out where Franceza was launched in the thicket below.
Still spinning on it's center of mass, the Lotorian ship lowers back down onto the plascete floor of the boarding ramp with a mass of crunching noises and screeching metal. Fire blossoms outwards from one side of the ship's engines and tries to spread out like a moss across the top of the ship. Smoke pours out as the boarding ramp is manually lowered, screeches echoing from inside.
Altor takes aim at the opening boarding ramp. "Like shooting fuzzies in a barrel..." he says, unloading a pair of missiles towards the ship's airlock. "BURN YOU BASTARDS, BURN!"
Fuzzies in a barrel indeed. The boarding ramp explodes violently and any hope for escape for those on board blows up with it.
There's a little bit of silence as Fran blinks, tries to figure out what the hell just happened, scrambling to her feet while she's still cradling the bomb. And shivers when she realises what she does. "N-no," she tells the comm, shaky voice and all. Trying to figure out where what how, she scans the screeching ship, tries, "Can try t'get up and get it in?"
Another Lotorian takes a shot from the fleeing party, falling forward through the canopy before hitting a lower branch and spinning backwards off of it. Thud.
Up above, the last Lotorian keeps pressure on the retreating party.
"Good... No, fuck that, jus' git t' t'Old Daisy before anything else 'splodes, greaser." Rillitan replies over the comms, back pressed into the tree before he looks across to Dr. Sexy, "On my go. One. Two..." He takes the human by the shoulder and pushes him into a sprint back towards the ship.
With Rillitan's shove Dr. Sexy is off. Fatefully his boots crush his glasses, glass splintering and crackling as the frames warp. There is no time to snatch them up, and no point either with the shape they're in, but despite that it seems to cause him to stumble and falter with gunshots firing all around him.
In one last attempt to bring himself some clan honour, the Lotorian on the floor with a punctured kidney struggles forward and pats the floor besides him for the knife he carried. Once in his leathery palm, he lifts it and uses his last portion of strength to lob it at Jocaira as she's taken away with Tirax.
"Nasty merde d'ecureuil singe! Je vais vous la peau!" Joca jerks forward as she's hit by the thrown blade, unable to twist out of the way without endangering Tirax. It appears to be only the Timonae's assistance that prevents her from lunging back to exact whatever en Francais promise she just made, and she hisses between clenched teeth as they continue back towards the ship.
"Come on ye' blinkin' idjit!" Rillitan grunts, near on pulling Dr. Sexy all the way back before he spins in place and lets the man get into the Old Daisy on his own, making sure the way is covered for Franceza and Darris to get back.
Dr. Sexy arrives on the Daisy with Rillitan's 'encouragement, and once inside the airlock he slumps against the wall. Slightly blurry vision is directed back outward as he watches for everyone else to make it back inside.
Jocaira is also 'encouraged' onto the ship, her free arm flailing. "Permettez-moi de revenir en arriere! Je veux juste casser le cou." Panting heavily, breath hissing through her teeth, she leans (her front!) against the wall and whips her hood back. Judging from the sweat breaking out on her brow, the adrenaline is starting to taper off. "Dieu merde, qui fait mal. Doctair!"
"Guys, we're okay to get out of here. Holy crap, Altor, why don't you just nuke 'em?" Prince calls over the commlink.
"Not the clan!" cries the Lotorian near the edge of the forest, as it sees Altor further destroy the downed ship, "BAZZZZTARD!" It cries out, pulling it's pulse rifle up and firing a round at the robot.
Altor gets riddled with pulse laser blasts, and curses wildly at the fuzzball in the trees.
"Wait, no. DUCK!" Was Franceza the only one watching Altor get zapped? She nearly drops the bomb in her haste to whipe her pistol out and maybe some of that merc training stuck when she aims and fires. "It's BazzzzztardO you furrball piece of shit!"
A pulse blast hits the Lotorian in the shoulder and it snarls, but the weapon it was holding drops from it's grasp and spirals down to the floor. "Zzzz." The Lotorian hisses, before it scatters away across the canopy, attempting to escape with just a bruised ego.
"Time to go I think, come on Franky lets get back to the ship." Darris says as he looks around for more people to shoot, "Altor you want to take point or rear, I am good either way."
"I've got your back, just get to the ship." Altor says, keeping an eye out as he retreats with them, ready to lift off himself once the ship is away.
"C'mon you two, get a fuckin' move on!" Rillitan cries, firing a round of shots into the forest canopy to be sure as more of them pile into the shuttle. "Doc, take a look at t'girlie will ye!"
As Rillitan is yelling, as he is wont to do, Christoff is sinking down as he leans against the wall leaving a streaking trail of blood in his wake. Even so he gestures to Jocaira, "I have no idea what you said. Doesn't matter, come here and let me see. Just... just sit in front of me." He pants, adrenaline rushing through him as well.
Jocaira pushes off the wall and crouches down in front of the doctor. "-Out-," she says, gesturing at the knife pinning her jacket to her back, before putting the hilt of her own poniard between her teeth and bracing herself. Whatever she mumbles around it it probably best unheard.
Darris pulls Fran along and runs to the ship ,it doesn't take long to get there and inside. When he does arrive he where some Lot decided that Joca looks better with knives /in/ her then on her. "What happened?" he asks in a hard voice, "Oi Doc, do something about that will you."
Rillitan is last in, closing the door down and giving a tap on the forward hatch, "Let's get the fuck outta here." he calls, throwing his gun to the floor and shaking battle nerves off, moving round to get a look at Jocaira's wound. A brow raises at the blood smear, "Oi doc. You uh. Maza." If it were possible for the pigment in Rillitan's brown skin to pale as the blood flows out of his cheeks, he would. Alas, he just pulls a face.
Without another pulse, the shuttle lifts off and departs, with Altor in tow.
Dr. Sexy offers a shakey smile up to Rillitan, "It-, it's okay. Let's get Jocaira done first." He puts one hand to the top of her shoulder, other gripping the hilt of the knife. He pushes against her while simultaneously pulling, only managing to get the blade pulled out a fraction on that first try. Taking a few deep breaths, with his skin paled a degree or two, he braces for another try. It's hard to tell, but there may just be plumes of blood spreading as they soak through the back of his shirt.
Jocaira starts -shaking-, and she clenches her teeth on the hilt of the poniard, banging the flat of her hand against the deck plating a couple of times. "Nnnnnnssssss!" Her lips peel back from her teeth. "Ffffnnn."
Darris growls, "Oh for fuck sake, give over man before you both pass out due to blood loss. Just stand ready to stop the blood flow while I do the same for you." And with that he gently shoves Sexy aside and takes the hilt in his own hand, "Almost there," he says softly to Joca and pulls, yoink, out comes the knife as smoothly as he could taking up something to staunch the blood, hopefully something clean the Doc had handy.
"THIS AIN'T THE TIME FOR THIS DOC." Rillitan interjects and he snatches the knife from Darris' hand, replacing it with a pack of medigel. The knife is turned on Dr. Sexy, at which point Rillitan stabs forward and murders the doctors shirt, so he can properly see the extent of the wound.
Dr. Sexy fwoomps over, first shoved by Darris and then assaulted by Rillitan with the knife he'd just been trying to pull out of Jocaira. He mumbles something unintelligeable as he pushes himself up onto his hands, shirt in shreads and falling to the ground. It's a gunshot wound to the back, just below the shoulderblade and luckily having /just/ missed the spine.
"Fils d'un singe et un chien putain!" Joca replies, poniard clattering to the floor as she parts her jaws and gets a bit -shrill-. "Jacket. Off." she pants, slouching forward with a few more choice obscenities as she tries to peel the offending jacket off with her good arm.
Darris gently but firmly stills Joca's hand and removes her jacket for her, "Shirt too so that we can get this taken care of." and tries to help her remove that as well, for once not even the least bit in a sexual manner, all business this time
Shirt too? Rillitan glances sideways at that, incidentally of course. I mean, he's got Dr. Sexy's naked chest to take care of him, "I ain't gonna try t'take t'bullet out, Doc, doesn't look like it went through. I'll just... tourniquet?" He's grabbing exactly that.
"Yeah." Huffs Christoff, glancing aside and squinting towards Jocaira and Darris, "Tourniquet for now. There's-" Breath, "There's no surgically sterile tweezers in the kit, I don't think."
Jocaira readily relinquishes the tank top, shedding both it and the armored bracers with a rather continuous stream of foul languages from many lands. Now that there's no longer a knife jabbed nastily close to her shoulder blade, her voice has started to lose its raggedy edge. "You 'ave usser doctair on estacion?" she pants in Rill's general direction. "Pressure, Darrees, put on wound, rapidement."
Darris follows orders to the letter and adds some medigel to boot, he puts firm pressure on the wound but keeps his touch gentle as he holds onto Joca's shoulder to get the best coverage on the wound." How did this happen? How did you get pinned with a knife and he get shot?"
"Yeah, Doc, got it." Rillitan grunts, because unsurprisingly he's had to deal with this kind of gunshot before. "Ain't no other full-time doc, no, just aid staff."
"Most people who visit don't want to pay the fees for medical attention if they get hurt." Christoff explains with a hissing exhale, "So usually it's only crew I deal with."
"Ecureuil singe merde get me when we leaving. Monsieur Tirax in front of me, could no move enough for out of way wisout 'im getting it." Joca breathes, squeezing her eyes shut for a few moments. "Tsss, I mean for -you- estupid doctair."
Darris continues to press the wound to try and stop the bleeding as much as possible, "I do hope the fucktard who stuck you is dead. Otherwise I would like to blow the planet up please and thank you."
"Yeh, causin' an intergalactic incident is a good way t'keep t'profile low, Darris." Rillitan comments backwards as he wraps the doctors wounds and applies medigel where appropriate.
Christoff grunts and hisses as the linens are wrapped and the medigel applied, sweat beading upon his brow and dripping to the floor. These sorts of incidences he's never quite gotten used to, even despite having lived through the Phyrrian war.
"Se 'fucktard,' likely pissing blood until it die," Joca replies, an unsteady laugh blooming at Darris' comment. "Am -fine-," she assures, "Now sat knife is not in shoulder, non? Doctair will fix, non worry." Carefully, she tries to get to her feet. "Sssss. Cela se sent terribles. WRap me up next, Monseiur Reel?"
"Stay seated, he can come to you." Darris notes and continues putting pressure on the wound. "Rill, another compress would be good, this one is bleeding through."
"Eh, use more o't' gel." Rillitan grunts, gesticulating without turning back. "Doc, you gotta stay alert here, keep y'focus on not passin' out, right? Sommit about oxygens and brains, I never remember that shit." he grunts in reply to Joca, but otherwise seems preoccupied.
Another deep breath and Christoff is nodding to Rillitan, "Right. You got the gist of it. Talking. Keep talking, that's the easiest way." He murmurs, pushing back onto his heels and extending a hand to Rill in seek of aid back up to his feet.
"Pour l'amour de dieu, I am not made of -glass-," Joca's voice gets a little strained as she continues to try to get up. Darris says something along the lines of "Women!" under his breath and lets her up, after a liberal use of more medigel of course. "Alright, alright." but stays nearby in case she does decide to pass out or whatever.
"Nah, doc, stay sat." Rillitan grunts, "If y'need t'move, keep your arms busy. Don't want to raise y'blood pressure."
Dr. Sexy gives a defeated nod, not that he's ever managed much by way of authoritativeness in the first place, and sits back against the wall, "Sure thing, Rill." Darris is given a bit of a look and raised brow before the doctor shakes his head.
Jocaira growls under her breath as she gets to her feet. "Vous continuez a dire que, et je vais vous faire une femme." Yes, the expression still indicates that this feels -terrible-, but no, it doesn't look like she's going to faint or cry. It was a throwing knife, after all, not a javelin.
Darris is blissfully unaware of whatever she said in French, and just follows along behind. "Need help with the doc Rill?"
"You'll 'ave t'look over 'im, I need t'speak t'Thomas a minute." Rillitan grunts, having finished his work on the doctor he moves forward into the cockpit.
Jocaira picks up her shirt and jacket, growling over the damage done, and finds somewhere to sit. She doesn't bother to cover up and instead flexes the fingers of the 'bad' arm.
Darris sighs seeing he is more or less useless at this point for being mister helpful and goes to sit nearby the injured woman, "You should be able to get that fixed fairly easily." he notes of the clothes
Jocaira just nods, tilting her head to the side with a wince. "Nnh, right in se chink in se armor," she grouses. "Goddamn monkey squirrels. You okay?"
Darris nods, "Yeah, group of them decided to try and all turn on me, which pulled fire from Fran and Altron. Good thing I dodge well, which is lucky as hell cause I do not have the best armor on." he looks thoughtful for a moment then reaches over to her uninjured side and begins to massage the unhurt shoulder gently.
Jocaira nods, the muscle twitching a little in response to the touch; her upper lip soon follows suit. "Nnh, no sank you. Don't touch. Still... eh, 'ow do you say. Se wound up. It did no go well. I will need to se my Doctair." She gestures with her good arm towards the unfortunate Christof. "'e is in no condition."
Darris stops the motion and sighs nodding, "Yeah, he is messed up right good." Sitting and rubbing his temples her grumps, "Fucking monkeys, need to make some grenades, that would have been far better use of time." Dr. Sexy mrrs and droops.
"Well, I will need to go 'ome and see my Doctair and sen return to work, so I will no distract you. I 'ope your boss is not angry wis you for bringing me along," Joca says, pulling a kerchief from her pocket to clean the blood from her jacket. "Pah, what a mess."