The tables had turned back and forth in this largely improvised struggle, and both sides were fairly certain there couldn’t possibly be any more surprise twists left to tip the scales.
Max was soundly defeated. The Triad cornered aboard a ship that wouldn’t be going anywhere in the near future. Justin and Shades surrounded by enemies, who, after seeing their opponents’ abilities, had opted to wear the beleaguered duo down from a defensive posture.
From the pirates’ collective attitude, the mood onboard suggested things would get still uglier once they re-established control of their ship.
This whole scene was starting to look like “last stand” material to Shades.
In the midst of all this, it was all one black-and-white panther could do just to stay alive. Cut off from the Maximum, Bandit scrambled around frantically in an attempt to stay out of the way of these crazy humans and their unnatural weapons. It was tough enough as it was with so many of them flailing energy blades about.
It got even tougher when one pirate in particular, who seemed to have it in for him, singled him out. Having finally reached the uppermost section of the deck, clutching one of the weapons looted from Chase’s stash in one hand, she took up a position from which she could target most of the deck. She had heard it said that pulse weapons were resistant to devices like EMP, and the use of all those laser blades seemed to confirm that.
“Gotta kill it…” she muttered, not wanting this feline terror to find its way up here. She took aim, whispering, “Gotta kill it, or it’ll kill us all…”
With that, she pulled the trigger, and the plasma rifle Chase bought, last in stock, at Tradewinds Mercantile, spat a ball of radiant white light with each shot.
Much to Bandit’s good fortune, her aim with rifles left something to be desired, and all of her shots were way off as the big cat zigged and zagged in desperate evasion.
Seeing the first of these new attacks, Shades shoved Justin behind some crates, likely plunder from one of Strikers’ other victims. Caught off-guard by the person who was supposed to be keeping his back, Justin nearly lashed out at him, but came to a grinding halt at the sight he beheld. For the plasma shot that would originally have hit him collided with one of the Cyexians instead, her agonized scream cut short as her entire torso evaporated in a nearly blinding flash of light, both her legs and one of her arms flopping to the deck a moment later.
Where the other blobs of plasma hit, entire chunks of deck simply vanished as the super-charged particles splashed against it, instantly vaporized, and the other pirates scattered in a panicked frenzy to avoid their comrade’s gruesome fate.
“Fuckin’ A!” Justin screeched, that last grisly spectacle reminding him entirely too much of the Enforcer’s super-laser for comfort. Feared he would jump overboard in spite of himself at the knowledge that a weapon like that would cut them to ribbons in short order.
“They’ll blow our cover— literally!— in no time with that thing!” Shades realized aloud.
As another plasma shot obliterated yet another chunk of the deck, they both remarked “Damn!” in near-perfect unison.
“Shades,” Justin whispered, spotting one of his fallen power pistols lying on the deck, “I’m gonna go for it. If I can take that crazy bitch out, it might be our only chance…”
Even as Justin braced himself to make his desperate move, Chase turned to Kato, saying, “That’s it! I’m outta here!”
With their adversaries scattered, he moved for the boarding ramp, dragging her by the arm until she shook him off.
“But the Tri-Medals!” Torn between what she was sure must be common sense, and her dream, her feet didn’t want to budge even an inch.
“What good are they to us if we’re dead?” he demanded, reaching for her arm again…
“You’re finished!” Striker cried triumphantly, savoring the taste of victory against this unexpectedly difficult foe. Her crew would soon put an end to this little uprising, then it would be payback time against these uninvited guests. “You put up a good fight, boy, but no man will ever defeat me!”
Max glared defiantly, refusing to give her the satisfaction of begging for mercy.
That was when Striker finally noticed one of her crew cutting loose with the plasma rifle.
“Hey!” Striker shouted, still keeping her blade at Max’s neck, “What the fuck are you doing to my ship!?”
Striker said this just as the pirate with the plasma rifle was drawing a bead on her increasingly isolated target. Her captain’s shrill demand shattered her concentration with its overwhelming animosity. Even as she turned, startled, lost as to how to apologize or explain herself for her reckless move, she jerked the rifle around right as she pulled the trigger.
Author's Chapter Notes:
the tables turn once more
