Board Thread:The Company/@comment-24930445-20140615054833/@comment-24930445-20140703054942

A Not So Okay Rescue

They had been wandering through the halls in small groups, trying not to gain attention and, so far, luck seemed to have been on their side. Those of the crew who caught sight of Kat quickly glanced away or turned down a different hallway, no one really noticing or paying attention that the eye patch she wore was on the opposite side from their boss’.

They had just come around a corner when a body flew past them, colliding with, of all people, Ben. He screamed in agony as he collapsed on the floor, the body on top of him crushing ribs that were already bruised and broken. As if choreographed, Kat and Mack reached down and tossed the body across the halls before reaching down to grab up Ben.

“DON’T!” Xyastia was at Ben’s side, trying to get him to uncurl from his current position. “Ben. I need you to let me see. There’s a good chance a bone could puncture a lung if it hasn’t already. Lay still. Let me look.”

Kat and Mack glanced at each other and, as a team, moved to cover the hall the body had flown from. Peeking around the corner his head a good foot and a half above hers, they could see the battle raging near them. “Hurry it up, doc. We have possible incoming any minute…. shit.”

Taking the offensive, Kat spun around the corner, Mack close on her heels as two drones caught sight of them. Mack’s long legs carried him to his target much quicker. Instead of taking his opponent down quickly though, Mack began to play with him, dodging and jabbing, a smirk playing about his lips the entire time.

Kat wasn’t so kind. Ducking her head down, she planted a full on body block against her opponent, sending them both into a nearby wall. The resounding crack of spine hitting the carbon fiber panel was the only sound he made before crumpling to the ground. Crouching, Kat spun to face the next attacker, only to find a kid in a black security uniform fighting for his life. She would have let him take his chances but for the terror in his eyes. She could tell that, even though he was in uniform, he had never seen real combat before this moment.

Sighing, she shook her head once then went into attack mode, landing in the middle of the drone’s back, riding him to the floor. As he hit, Kat wrapped her fingers in his hair and promptly smashed his face into the hard floor, adding him to her body count.

“Ms. ZyThyrn!” The boy snapped to attention, saluting.

“Knock it off kid. I ain’t her. DOWN!” The kid dropped without question, the man racing up behind him miscalculating and tripping over his prone body, falling flat. Before he could recover, Mack’s massive hand lifted him by the collar and tossed him across the hallway like he was yesterday’s trash.

Still prone, the kid glanced up at Kat. “You’re that woman… Morghan or something?”

Kat sighed heavily. “Or sumthin. Wha’s yer name, kid?”

“Mentieth, Ma’am. Stephan Mentieth.” The kid slowly got to his feet. “I… I need to place you under detainment, Ma’am.”

Kat blinked at him, her face bland even as Mack’s hand came down on Mentiieth’s shoulder. “You may want to rethink that, lad. She just saved your life.”

Kat’s expression never changed as she watched the kid make up his mind. Smirking at her, he shrugged. “How can I help?”

“We need a med bay.” Xyastia came from around the corner. “I need to find a bone knitter for Ben’s ribs.”

“Incoming” Mack was turning to face the new threat as Kat called over her shoulder. Help them, Mentieth. I swear, if they don’t make it, I will find you…” Growling, she spun and ran into the fray.

“Somehow, I know you will. This way.” Mentieth followed Xyastia, helping to get Ben to his feet and moving down the hallway towards the med bay.

_____________

Kat took a moment as she sprinted down the hallway to center herself. She was in a black mood and, in truth, she wanted the mayhem, the blood, the death. None of them should have been there. Her brother should not be on his way to a hostile med bay. Her daughters should never have been put in danger. Her husband should never have been wounded. She should be at home singing and jumping on the couch with her family.

With each thought, her rage grew, and as she met the first drone she lit into him with all her anger. Her fists connected with his stomach, then stormed up his chest to his chin. She ducked his grab, tucking in behind him to kick the knees out from under him. As he hit the floor, she wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled tight, cutting off all air before suddenly jerking to the side, ending his struggles forever.

The next man wasn’t so lucky. Her first fight hadn't been long enough to ease her anger. As the the drone reached out for her, she grabbed his wrist then ducked between his knees,. Arm still in hand, she pulled up hard as she stood, dislocating the man’s shoulder and elbow even as she used the useless appendage to try and eradicate his future line of descendants.

The man was bent over, screaming, and she threw her body into his ass, knocking him forward. She had never released the arm, so his momentum gave him a bad body-roll movement, bringing him down on his neck at an odd angle. The snap did nothing to satisfy her mood.

She spun, looking for something else to mame and dismember and found a likely target a few yards away pointing a crossbow in her general direction. She was fairly sure by the determination in his eyes that he was no drone and his black uniform spoke “security.” Her smile was slow in forming and very, very cold.

She slowly walked towards the man and she could tell he was growing unsure. “Ya gonna use that thing or are ye jist playin with it?”

By the time he understood the question, it was far too late for him. He had gone against his training and allowed her to get too close. That she had looked like Jos, or Jos looked like her, was all the hesitation she needed in the man.

Thumb spread wide from her fingers, she caught the man dead in the throat, lodging his adam’s apple into his windpipe and crushing his larynx. As the man dropped to his knees, trying to gasp for air, she kicked him in the balls hard and he dropped like a rock. Slowly, she bent forward and relieved him of his weapons then coldly sent his crossbow bolt into the side of his head.

“Not bad.” The voice came from an open door next to her and she slowly turned to face the occupant. Another security agent, though this one was an officer. It wasn’t that he carried insignia specifying this fact. She could see it in his manner. Proud, arrogant… an asshole. This particular asshole had a much larger crossbow and it was aimed right at her.

“Your trainer taught you well.” He smirked, looking her up and down.

“Or ya suck at teaching. My eleven year old could hae taken this fool.” She cocked a hip.

“That’s an impressive child,” the agent laughed. “Or a bold faced exaggeration.”

“Please. He nae even raised his weapon though he was unsure. All his instincts warned him I was trouble, yet…” She shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.

“True,” he said. “In his defense, you do bear a passing resemblance to the owner of this ship. Although you are missing the wrong eye. His lack of attention to detail got him killed. Your child… he would have shot.”

She chuckled. “He nae would have gotten the chance. Care ta prove yerself? Been looking for a challenge.” She held her arms from her side, dropping the spent crossbows then kicking them away before taking a step back and crouching.

The man considered his potential opponent for a moment before smiling again and setting down his weapon. “Why not? To the death I assume? If that’s the case though, none of this unarmed hand to hand nonsense. I’ve read up on you and I’d prefer a clean death if I should happen to lose.” He pulled a pair of knives from his boots and tossed one to her end over end. “Not that I think I will.”

She laughed, the sound almost joyous as she let the knife stick point first into the floor at her feet. She knew where Mack was, but she never glanced in his direction, preferring not to give away his location should she need him. With a flick of her finger as she pulled the knife from the floor, however, she let him know to stay out of it.

“Ye know m’name… wha’ shall I be placin on yer tombstone?”

“‘Here lies Michael Tomlinson. A right bastard. The world may never see his like again.’”

She chuckled, “Bit wordy, but I’ll see wha’ I kin do.”

“As long as you’re paying for the engraving, I might as well get all the letters I can.”

“Aye…” She slid sideways, letting him out of the door without being a threat. She had seen Mack slip into the next room so she maneuvered her way a step closer to that door. “Shall we, Tomlinson?”

He nodded and carefully circled around to her left, not shifting the knife but keeping it firmly held in his right hand in a hammer grip, his wrist loose. The knife stayed between him and her at all times. His left hand was held against his chest, covering his solar plexus.

She didn’t circle as he did, but rather turned so she backed away from him, keeping her good eye on him. She had to admire the fact that he had tried to use her blind side against her, but she had been fighting too long with the handicap and knew how to compensate. Her own blade was in a reverse grip, the dull side held against her forearm, sharp side out.

“Reverse grip, I see. That does tend to limit your techniques. You can slash, but you loose a good deal of penetrating power, don’t you think?”

She smiled. “A good femoral or jugular hit, I don’t need to penetrate. Slashing does very well.”

“If you can get close enough.” He attacked, not striking for a vital zone, but slashing at her knife hand. The blade came within inches of the back of her hand but she pulled away before he could connect and draw first blood.

She chuckled. She couldn’t help it. She was actually having fun, in a dark way. She knew it was to the death, but the threat only made her blood race and her senses keen. She watched his every movement, every twitch. He was good. He didn’t telegraph his intentions which made this all the more challenging. As he followed through with his his slash, she stepped into him and threw a left handed punch, aimed for his jaw.

He parried with his shield hand, his left arm snaking around the outside of her left and batting it to her right. She barely had a chance to recover before his knife snaked towards her side.

She smiled at him, nodding. They were both testing the waters and they knew it. “Did my file tell you who my trainers were?”

“It was quite thorough,” he answered. “You can be sure I wouldn’t have agreed to this combat if you didn’t appear to be in such a… physical mood. I’ll have to trust you to be on your honor when it comes to making my head explode.”

She laughed. “I hae yet ta cause a head t’explode. But tell me, hae ya ever fought Axin?” She backed in a circle, cautious, yet casual.

Tomlinson laughed, “Miss ZyThyrn doesn’t like her pets to associate with the likes of me, however I am well aware of his capabilities. And of Ryax.”

Again a laugh escaped her lips, this one in pure joy. “Ohhh, b’lieve me. Y’know nothin, m’boyo.” She was on him in a flash, caution at the knife he held thrown out the door as she literally threw herself in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms folding behind then under his biceps close to the elbows and back up towards her own chest. Her head connected with his rapidly, then she let go, sliding down his body and drawing his arms even closer.

He blinked rapidly as blood poured from his nose, the bridge split and smashed. Bone was visible through the gash. To his credit he didn’t fall, but he was in a daze.

She wanted to play so, on her way down his body, she released his left arm with her right and sliced at his leg at the artery, though she made sure not to cut deep enough to bleed him too badly. As she hit the floor, she shoved herself backwards into a flip, her feet coming up in an attempt to connect with his chin. He staggered back in time to avoid the kick.

She realized as she gained her feet that he was disarmed. His knife gone from his right hand. It had never struck the floor however. She wasn’t sure when he had lost it but she knew that somewhere in the grapple his knife had connected. She had expected it might when she made the move, so the feel blood flowing down her side was no surprise, but she couldn’t be sure where the knife was at the moment and it concerned her slightly. He was worse off than she was though.

He shook off the cloud that was trying to settle over him and eyed her warily as he breathed raggedly through his mouth, his nose completely blocked. Blood was trying to pour down his throat and he was in danger of choking to death if he didn’t end this quickly. Without his knife his options were limited. It was too late to run now. He couldn’t muster the oxygen to stay ahead of her for long. A larger knife was retrieved from the sheath under his jacket. He spit out as much blood as he could and reengaged. Playtime was over.

She was ready for him, having waited and watched until he had committed to his decision. The new, larger knife was no surprise. She had caught herself on it at his waist when her legs were around him. It did call up new and more dangerous options. He was now a desperate man and desperate men do desperate things.

He feinted to her left, drawing her knife hand in that direction before lashing out with his boot, catching her arm and forcing it back to her chest. He pressed his attack with a quick left jab, managing to catch her jaw before she pulled away and countered, slashing his wrist. He returned his shield hand to his chest and backed two steps away to defend against her counter.

His two steps were matched by her own forward movement, her knife hand steady at his left arm. As he slapped it away with his defending hand as she knew he would, her own left came up and slashed his neck with the dagger she had secretly pulled from her boot during his recovery from her assault. She hadn't followed through once she opened his neck, but reversed the swing, driving the tip of the blade deep into his neck  She danced away from him, watching closely.

He stumbled back, his own knife clattering to the floor as his hands went to his throat to stem the arterial flow from her cuts. His back found the wall and he slid to the ground. His fingers around the knife protuding from his neck weren’t enough to block the flood. He found her eye then, knowing he was done. “We talked about a clean death,” he said.

“Aye. But… y’dinnae hae ta die, Tomlinson. I can see ya ta med soon enough.” She moved to crouch before him even as Mack stepped to his other side.

He laughed coldly. “I’ll be dead by the time you get me there. I’m a killer, I know. You gave them death,” he said. “And they’re nothing but slaves. I knew what I was getting into. Finish me. Quickly. Through the heart.”

Kat sighed even as she felt Mack rest Tomlinson's long blade on her shoulder. “Aye.. I made a promise. Y’ll b’gittin yer headstone, I’ll see t’it.” She took the knife and kissed the point lightly against his chest, just left of his breast bone. She never pulled her gaze from his, she owed him that much respect and, with a nod, she fulfilled her promise.

She crouched there for a moment, saddened by the waste. “Katrylle. We need to get to the med bay.” Mack’s voice was full of concern and she frowned, glancing up at him. The movement made her dizzy and she caught herself from falling by placing her hand on Tomlinson’s shoulder.

“Yeah, up ya go.” She was suddenly in Mack’s arm and he was moving quickly down the hallway.

“Y’ dinnae even know where it is.” She sighed, her head still spinning slightly. “Wha th’ hell happened. He dinnae hit me that bad.”

“Bad enough Katrylle. His blade is imbedded in your shoulder and you’re losing a lot of blood. To answer your first question, I’m a tiger, remember? Tigers can track by scent. They came this way.” She didn’t hear the rest as she gave into the blackness.