Street Sabre had mixed opinions of fights on cargo ships. On the one hand, there were no side corridors or small, easily missed rooms to be searched. A simple
march through the hull. On the other, they were usually packed full of enemies that would just swarm endlessly.
Like now. She'd been inside the ship for nearly twenty minutes, gone through only two cargo bays, and had actually lost count of how many Green Ink Men had
tried to bury her under sheer weight of numbers. She'd stopped counting at somewhere around sixty. Even as she wrapped her gauntlet around one Tsoos face
and slammed him into another with a crunch of broken bone, another five charged in from the next cargo bay. "Oh god damn it," she muttered, as one of
the Ink Men kicked her in the head. She reached up, grabbed his leg and used him as a club on another two, then threw him into a crate before nearly folding
her next target in half with a punch to the stomach.
As yet another Ink Man jumped on her back, there was a surge of light in front of her as a Sorcerer arrived. A moment later, a localized mini-cyclone picked
her up and threw her into the hull. The Ink Man on her back made a wonderful cushion, she discovered as she pulled herself out, just in time to see the magic
wielder heal several of her previous targets and get them back on her feet, only to teleport away as he saw her charge him. "Heal and run bastard!"
she growled, booster-leaping into a flying kick that caught the Ink Man that had been behind the fleeing Sorcerer right in the face.
Flying past him, her boots sparked and skidded on the metal decking. As the Tsoo charged again, there was a flash of text in the corner of her HUD.
INCOMING CALL: ANN RITONA
Priss blinked, checked her suits clock, then swore. "Answer Call," she ordered, ducking a swing.
"Priss? It's Ann. Look, we're at Celestial Being, and Mir's setting up now," her lead guitarist said as the Sabre grabbed an Ink Man by
his ponytail and jerked his head down into her fist. "We've got to perform in ten minutes, and the club manager's giving us looks."
"Define looks," Priss asked.
"The angry, rapping his fingers on the bar kind," she said as Priss didn't dodge in time and had her helmet make an ear-ringing clang. "What
was that?"
"Uh, some guy just tripped over a trash can," Priss replied quickly, showing the Tsoo in question how to properly break someones nose. "Listen,
my bike's acting up, I'm running to the Green Line now. Can you stall?"
"Sure," Ann said, clearly sounding amused. "We'll do a few pre-concert numbers. Instrumentals." Priss winced as the Sorcerer came back,
the teleport kicking up a flare of ear-rending static on the phone line. "Look, just get here as fast as you can, would you?" she asked. "Surely
the punks you're beating on won't take too much longer," she added with a slight laugh.
The woman in the hardsuit winced. "Was I that obvious?"
"It's Paragon. See you soon Priss." As CALL ENDED flashed in her HUD, Priss swore loudly, grabbed the Sorcerer by the shirt and charged her
knuckle bombers.
"Now we do it the fast and painful way!" she growled, swinging.
march through the hull. On the other, they were usually packed full of enemies that would just swarm endlessly.
Like now. She'd been inside the ship for nearly twenty minutes, gone through only two cargo bays, and had actually lost count of how many Green Ink Men had
tried to bury her under sheer weight of numbers. She'd stopped counting at somewhere around sixty. Even as she wrapped her gauntlet around one Tsoos face
and slammed him into another with a crunch of broken bone, another five charged in from the next cargo bay. "Oh god damn it," she muttered, as one of
the Ink Men kicked her in the head. She reached up, grabbed his leg and used him as a club on another two, then threw him into a crate before nearly folding
her next target in half with a punch to the stomach.
As yet another Ink Man jumped on her back, there was a surge of light in front of her as a Sorcerer arrived. A moment later, a localized mini-cyclone picked
her up and threw her into the hull. The Ink Man on her back made a wonderful cushion, she discovered as she pulled herself out, just in time to see the magic
wielder heal several of her previous targets and get them back on her feet, only to teleport away as he saw her charge him. "Heal and run bastard!"
she growled, booster-leaping into a flying kick that caught the Ink Man that had been behind the fleeing Sorcerer right in the face.
Flying past him, her boots sparked and skidded on the metal decking. As the Tsoo charged again, there was a flash of text in the corner of her HUD.
INCOMING CALL: ANN RITONA
Priss blinked, checked her suits clock, then swore. "Answer Call," she ordered, ducking a swing.
"Priss? It's Ann. Look, we're at Celestial Being, and Mir's setting up now," her lead guitarist said as the Sabre grabbed an Ink Man by
his ponytail and jerked his head down into her fist. "We've got to perform in ten minutes, and the club manager's giving us looks."
"Define looks," Priss asked.
"The angry, rapping his fingers on the bar kind," she said as Priss didn't dodge in time and had her helmet make an ear-ringing clang. "What
was that?"
"Uh, some guy just tripped over a trash can," Priss replied quickly, showing the Tsoo in question how to properly break someones nose. "Listen,
my bike's acting up, I'm running to the Green Line now. Can you stall?"
"Sure," Ann said, clearly sounding amused. "We'll do a few pre-concert numbers. Instrumentals." Priss winced as the Sorcerer came back,
the teleport kicking up a flare of ear-rending static on the phone line. "Look, just get here as fast as you can, would you?" she asked. "Surely
the punks you're beating on won't take too much longer," she added with a slight laugh.
The woman in the hardsuit winced. "Was I that obvious?"
"It's Paragon. See you soon Priss." As CALL ENDED flashed in her HUD, Priss swore loudly, grabbed the Sorcerer by the shirt and charged her
knuckle bombers.
"Now we do it the fast and painful way!" she growled, swinging.