"The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everything)

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by sonofccn » Tue Oct 30, 2012 8:06 pm

Praeothmin wrote:And as an aside to "all" my fans, I'll be taking a short break in posting, since RL (and mostly my upcoming play) are keeping me busy...
Congrats then. Hope you break a leg ( of your enemy preferably but they are sometimes wise when you invite them to things)
Praeothmin wrote:Updates shall resume in a couple of weeks...
No prob.

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by Praeothmin » Thu Nov 22, 2012 2:25 pm

Currently in a writer's block (or should I say, writer's laziness)...

Should resume with the updates eventually... :)

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by Praeothmin » Fri Dec 07, 2012 4:24 pm

Next week should see the continuation of the adventures of James Reynolds and co... :)

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by sonofccn » Mon Dec 10, 2012 7:31 pm

Praeothmin wrote:Next week should see the continuation of the adventures of James Reynolds and co... :)
Ok. :)

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by Praeothmin » Mon Dec 17, 2012 1:48 pm

RL kicking my tail end...
No, I am not stalling... much...

I've started writing again, and should have an update... Before 2014, I swear to God... Or not, depends... :)

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by Praeothmin » Fri Dec 21, 2012 8:49 pm

Merry Christmas everyone, after much stalling, here's an introspective update...

Chapter 80

The big human smiled, and then turned towards the old man, his gaze falling on a face full of gratitude.

“Thank you so much!” He told them.
“I thought I was dead for sure when they cornered me.
Though I’m still in trouble.” The man continued more to himself than to his saviours.
“I still can’t pay Davik back, and these thugs know where I live.”
The man put his face in his hands, desperation clear in his voice.
“Oh, why did I have to get a loan from that thug?”

“Why did you contract a loan to this Davik?” James asked the older man.

“I didn’t have much choice.” The man answered.
“My name is Nalon Grech, I own a small business, one that was barely making ends meet and allowing me to feed my family, but then the Sith arrived, and blockaded the planet.
This meant fewer customers, less money coming in, and my bills kept adding up.
The Credit Repositories would not lend any money to me, because I have no collateral, so I went to the only place I could: a loan shark working for Davik.
I was hoping that the aftershock of the Sith blockade would have abated by now, and it did somewhat, but business is still slow.
I’ve been able to repay most of my loan to Davik’s man, but I still owe him 300 credits.
And now my loan has come to terms, and I can’t pay him back.”

The man’s shoulders sagged, and the big human could see the despair in his eyes.
It was clear to James after witnessing what had just happened that Davik was not a forgiving man, and so he knew that the old man’s debt would mean his death if he wasn’t helped in some way.
The MACO leader could only see one immediate solution to the man’s problems.

“What if I gave you the money you still owe him?” He asked the man.

Carth’s head swung in the big man’s direction, surprise etched on his face, although it paled compared to the surprise in the older merchant’s face.

“What? But… But… Why would you do that?
You don’t even know me, and you’ve already put yourself in grave danger saving me.” Said the incredulous man.

James’s companion had the same question etched on his face as well, though his expression conveyed more admiration than incredulity.
Though the man’s question was valid, James knew.
Why was he doing this?
Why was he offering his hard earned credits to a man he didn’t even knew, credits he was certain he would need for the completion of his mission.
And then he had an answer, one that no longer surprised him.
Because I like helping people, he thought, because I know now that my reality jumps happen for a reason, and that reason is helping people, making their lives better.
And that if I start ignoring the little people and concentrate too much on the bigger picture, I’ll eventually stop caring about the people I’m supposed to help in the first place, defeating my purpose.
These last years I’ve profited by preying on the weak, convincing myself that what I was doing was only hurting the companies I was taking from, big bad companies that reaped immense profits while ignoring the little people, the SINless like me.
I’ve always voluntarily ignored the fact that the company would blame my success on their employees, the guards I’ve beaten up, the Corp suit I’ve stolen from, most likely firing them for their apparent incompetence, conveniently forgetting that they have families that depend on them, on their jobs, families that might suffer because of me.
Now, for the last weeks, I’ve seen what helping people, truly helping people, not just donating some of my profits to faceless charities, feels like, and dammit it feels good.
And there’s no way I’m letting that feeling fade away, ever again.

The answer brought a serene smile to his face as his eyes locked onto the man’s.

“Because I can!” Was the simple answer he gave the old merchant.

The old man could hardly believe it, up until the funds had been transferred to his credit stick and he saw the amount flash in bright green numbers on its digital display.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!
Now I can pay Davik back, and need not fear him anymore.
Thank you so much, stranger.
Please, at least tell me your name so I know who saved me.” He asked James.

“Call me Mysterious Stranger.” He told him.
“That’s the name I’m known under around here.”

The merchant thanked him once more and then ran off, presumably to pay his debt, or so James hoped.
He was still smiling when Carth spoke.

“You gave 300 Credits to a man you’ve never met before?
Isn’t this generous, even for a Jedi?” He asked, the last part of his question coming out as a whisper.

“It’s what was needed to help him.” James told Carth.
“After all, it’s not like we could charge Davik’s hideout and take him out, right?”

“It is the less dangerous path, indeed.” The Republic soldier told James, a grin covering his face.

They went looking for some food court where they could eat, and after a hearty meal, James eating twice as much as Carth, they went looking for the elevators that would take them to the lower levels, where most Escape Pods had fallen.
They were hoping of exploring the lower levels closer to their location to familiarize themselves with the layout and the people living near the pods crash sites, knowing that any knowledge of the fauna they might encounter would help them navigate more safely amid even the most dangerous parts.
These hopes of exploring that day were quickly crushed at they arrived to the elevator lobby.
Four Sith soldiers were guarding the elevator’s entrance.

“Turn around and move along, citizen.
Only the Sith or those holding the proper authorization may go down to the lower levels.” The soldier told them coldly.

“Why is that?” James asked the Sith who had spoken to him.

“Because the swoop gangs are at war down there.
Brejik’s Black Vulkars have declared war upon Gadon Thek’s Hidden Becks gang.
It’s not safe to go down there unless you’re a Sith or a Bounty Hunter.
And even then, they’d have to pay me double to go down there.
So for your own safety, citizen, move along.”

James did not leave immediately, as he had seen an opportunity appear.

“As it happens, my partner and I are Bounty hunters, but our credentials were stolen.
Where could we get our licences re-issued?” He asked the soldier.

“You may go to the Sith compound and register on the list there, and after a screening and a quick check-up of your background, you might get it in a month or so.” The man told him.

The big MACO leader had no intention of waiting a month.

“Is there no way of getting one faster?”

“No, there isn’t!
No quit wasting my time and move along.” The soldier told James in a tone that brook no replies unless the big human wanted some trouble.

Deciding he didn’t want any at that time, James, with Carth in tow, left the elevator lobby and started walking back towards their apartment.
His mind was racing with plans for a possible infiltration of the elevator in order to go down unnoticed, when a though made its way at the surface of his mind.

“ Mareena!” He said out loud, startling Carth.
“She invited us to her party with all her Sith friends.
Perhaps she can help us get the credentials we need.” He told the Republic soldier.
“And if not, perhaps we can steal her friends’ credentials at that party.” He added with a smile.

Carth looked at James with a devious smile on his face.

“I didn’t know Jedi were also thieves.” He told him in a low voice.

“We are what we need to be.” The big man told him.

They were making their way towards Mareena’s apartment when James noticed some people shadowing them.
A quick glance at Carth told him the soldier had not noticed anything amiss, so James said nothing, and simply observed their shadows with all the subtlety he could muster.
As they progressed towards their destination, James noticed three groups of men following them while trying to appear inconspicuous.
As he was watching one of such groups, he noticed that one of the men following them was holding his right hand as if it was injured.
James smiled inwardly at the thought of meeting the merchant’s assailants again.
He knew they could strike in the open since the Sith would not interfere, but he was certain, their friends having certainly told them of their prowess, that they would wait for a better location than the open walkways to attack, like the entrance hall of an apartment building.
He caught up to Carth, pointing in the direction of Marrena’s home, as if showing him where they were going.

“We’ve got company.” He whispered to the soldier.
“Our one-handed friend is back, and he brought back-up.” He added.

“Well then,” Carth answered, “We’ll just have to meet them, won’t we?” He said with a smile.

Nodding, James started to look for the perfect spot to ambush their tails.
He understood now what Davik’s men were like, and they reminded him of the more thuggish Biker gangs in Seattle.
Brutal, vengeful, they didn’t accept anyone interfering in their business, and if you injured one of them, they’d stalk you to make an example out of you so others would not think of doing the same thing.
Said example usually meant you ended up dead, in multiple pieces in some easily viewed location.
And so it seemed, Davik’s men intended to make an example out of Carth and him.
What the poor thug didn’t understand was that messages could be delivered both ways.

James decided that, as much as the thought of killing in cold blood displeased him, the thug and his friends were going to be his message to Davik.
Last edited by Praeothmin on Tue Jan 29, 2013 1:51 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by sonofccn » Mon Dec 24, 2012 4:32 am

This is going to be a slaugher. James has them outnumbered. ;)

And Merry Christmas to you as well.

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by Admiral Breetai » Wed Jan 16, 2013 1:12 am

Well James is a charitable man, and that was indeed an awesome Christmas present. James being called a Jedi is funny

awesome update

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by Praeothmin » Thu Jan 17, 2013 1:15 pm

Glad you liked it, a new one should be coming soon...

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by Praeothmin » Tue Jan 29, 2013 8:39 pm

Here's the promised update...

Chapter 81

The first order of business for the MACO leader was to find a good defensible position, one where it might even be possible to set a trap and reverse the roles in the violent play that was about to be created.
Looking around as he and Carth were moving, careful not to show he was aware of the thugs following them, James finally found what he was looking for.
A short distance away in a side passage, strange aliens were apparently unloading cargo from a small shuttlecraft, using what looked like an anti-gravity sled.
He veered off in their direction, and when they were out of view of their pursuers, the two men broke in a short run so they would have more time to set their ambush up and, more importantly in James’s view, allow the workers to flee the area to safety.
As they reached the doors to what the big human could now see was a warehouse, the workers looked up from their cargo, surprise and hesitation breaking through the bored expressions set on their faces.

“Davik’s men are coming and intend on killing us.” He told the men, assuming they understood English, as most aliens apparently did.

He appeared to have assumed correctly, as the alien’s expressions turned to one of fear upon hearing James’s words.

“You and your friends should get to safety by getting out another door, quickly, because we intend to hide here.
You don’t have much time, and you know how Davik reacts if one gets in his way, don’t you?”

Then the workers left their posts at a run, away from Carth and him, away from the door they were facing, deeper inside the warehouse and another exit, or so James hoped.
When he had approached the aliens, he had feared that hearing upon Davik’s gripe with the two men, the aliens would decide to placate the crime Boss by capturing his prey and delivering them to his men.
That was the reason why James had drawn his Blaster pistol when warning the workers of the incoming fight.
Carth had done the same, and so the big human had once more continued on his path based on another assumption, that the workers would not be tempted to fight two armed and apparently dangerous men.
He was devising his entire strategy out of pure assumptions, but he was basing those assumptions on what he had witnessed and heard, and so he was confident they were sound as could be.
And at the moment, events were proving him right.
They went in the warehouse at the back of the workers, but while the alien workers were speeding towards an exit to take them to safety, locking the door behind them, James and Carth were looking for the best defensible positions.
The warehouse was huge, at least two hundred feet at a side, and full of big metallic crates, some five feet wide and ten feet long, and those bigger crates were piled high off the ground, stacked there using what was most likely an anti-grav sled.
It also contained smaller cases, boxes and barrels in neat stacks all around the place.
As Carth went towards the left of the warehouse, James examined the different containers and boxes stacked haphazardly around him, devising in which way to better use them in the coming fight.


They had been seen by their quarry, they were certain of it.
The band’s leader had noticed the slightly increased pace, the sudden change of direction as the two men they were pursuing oriented themselves towards a smaller side passage instead of continuing on the main walkway.
Gurmok, a powerful looking Trandoshan, with his brown scaly skin and his clawed three-fingered hands, tall even for his species, wasn’t surprised though.
Ban’Hak, the weak black-skinned human Davik forced him to endure, had described his earlier encounter of the two pursued men in great details, explaining how incredible these two were, especially the bigger human, a creature almost as tall as Gurmok.
The big reptilian creature had not believed all of it, of course, having long ago learned that Ban’Hak tended to exaggerate his own prowess to appear mightier than he was, and so Gurmok had talked with some of his contacts, one of them a Sith Soldier who had witnessed the scene, and had learned that, for once, the weak human had not lied or even exaggerated.
All the reports from his contacts had told him how fast and powerful the big human was, and how quick and precise with his Blasters was the smaller one.
The smaller of his two preys was even what was commonly called a “Twin-shooter”, a warrior capable of firing two Blaster pistols at once with high precision and skill, as if he was using only one weapon.
That was indeed impressive, as the only other true “Twin-shooter” Grumok knew of was Twitch the Rodian Duellist, whose prowess had allowed him to climb to the top Duelling spot after defeating Marl, Bendak Starkiller’s successor, after the great Mandalorian warrior had retired ten years ago.
A spot he still retained to this day, close to four years after he had gained it, with Marl still trying to reclaim it.
The big human, from all reports, was even faster than the pistol wielding one, with strength most likely rivalling his own, capable of crushing an Aqualish’s wrist as if it was made of cheap glass.
This was why Gurmok was not running after the two warriors as he was certain such a foolish action would spell his and his men’s doom.
When his group carefully rounded the side alley’s corner, he saw the open dock doors with the transport skiff parked in front, its rear hatch opened as if cargo was being offloaded, except there were no workers in sight.
Stopping, Gurmok flashed a predatory smile, his serrated teeth gleaming, and act which cowed some of his men.

So they think they can hide in a storeroom and wait for us in ambush, do they, the reptilian humanoid thought.
They will soon learn it is not so easy to surprise me.

The Thugs’ leader split his mean in two groups, one with seven thugs, the second one with him and four others.
While the main group would go to the side loading dock door and attack from that direction on Gurmok’s signal, he and four others would go around to the rear in search of another entrance, the thug leader knowing such places always had other exit points.
As the main group slowly advanced ever closer to the side door, Gurmok’s group rapidly went around the main building, finding the other door in short order.
It was locked, but the thug had a slicer, a small handheld computer that used powerful algorithms do decript security protocols and bypass them, useful equipment which allowed one to penetrate anywhere, except perhaps for highly secured places like the Sith base on their level.
This was one of the perks of working with a Crime Lord such as Davik, the fact that you always had the right tools for the right job.
The lock was dealt with in less than a minute, and then they were inside.
They had to navigate a small maze of tunnels, but they finally made it to a warehouse door.
Gurmok checked the lock using his slicer, and once certain it was unlocked, pressed on a small transmitter button on his Com-link to send the attack signal to his men.
A few minutes later, a terrible crashing noise was heard inside the warehouse, as if some heavy objects had fallen to the floor unhindered.
As Blaster fire became alive in the warehouse, the reptilian leader opened the door and peeked inside.
His view was blocked by many crates and barrels, but he could see Blaster bolts and Bowcaster pulses streaking to and fro deeper in the maze of crates.
Gurmok slid in the shadows on the right side of the door with one of his men, sending two to the left and the last one straight through, hoping they could take the two soldiers by surprise, knowing such a kill on his record would please Davik and put him in line for a well-deserved promotion, the Trandoshan tired of street-level work and aspiring to much more important jobs.
He was dreaming of one day replacing Canderous Ordo, the dangerous Mandalorian warrior, as Davik’s number one enforcer, as he went deeper in the shadowy recesses of the warehouse.


James had heard them coming before they had even reached the truck outside the docking bay.
After shooting a quick look at Carth, he quickly went behind a tower of crates he had previously spotted, a few meters from the docking bay doors.
He heard the thugs slow their pace as they came closer to the opened doors, caution dictating their movements, letting the two men know their foes weren’t idiots.
As the aliens came in tentatively, James and Carth, seasoned warriors both, reigned in the temptation to act, both knowing there would be a better opportunity to attack.
The aliens, some having gone around the parked truck, entered the warehouse in two by two cover formations, displaying their training in combat tactics, which surprised James, the big MACO leader initially believing the thugs to be the typical brutes relying on brute strength and numbers to get the job done.
He revised his opinion of the thugs, and modified his attack plan accordingly.
He had at first thought of pushing the crate tower he was using as a hideout on his opponents and then simply shooting the rest using his great speed to prevent them from harming him.
But the revelation that these men used tactics, and James’s realisation that he had seen more men following them previously then were now attacking brought up the possibility of a rear attack from the rest of the group.
When the two men closest to him passed in front of his hideout, James pushed with all his might, tumbling the hard crates upon the cautious aliens, flattening them to the ground as they comrades turned towards them and opened fire in the direction of the falling crates.
But James was already gone from behind the crates, going in farther in the maze of crates and barrels, making his way slowly towards what he believed to be the back door of the warehouse.
His progress was eased by the incredible noise coming from all the weapons fired in the warehouse, his Hearing Dampener helping his ears to cope with the reverberated noise.
He knew anyone not similarly protected would have a hard time hearing anyone approaching stealthily, just as he knew that while his ears were protected, and his hearing enhanced, he would also be hard-pressed to hear stealthy approaches.
And so he used his Low-Light and Thermographic enhancements in order to better navigate the warehouse’s maze of crates, his senses ever alert to warn him of possible impending doom.
In a short reprieve of fire, just before twin Blasters from on high rained scarlet death upon the thugs, the big human’s ears hard the soft scrape of a shoe setting on the hard cement floor of the warehouse.
James froze mid-step, but when the thunderous reports of Blasters were heard again, he simply stuck his back to the crate he was advancing next to, his hands poised for action, never even coming close to grabbing his weapon from its holster.
He saw a cautious hand grab the side of his crate, its bandaged fingers weakly steadying the body of its owner as he advanced around the crate, a Blaster Pistol shakily held in his left hand.


The Republic soldier, while fully confident his Jedi ally and he would triumph, did re-evaluate the odds as he saw the thugs using tactics to come in.
But it wasn’t until he saw James go farther inside the warehouse using the crates and barrels as cover that the thought of the thugs ambushing them came to his mind.
Still, he had to trust in the Jedi’s capabilities, having seen Tharnok in action before, and while he knew the fight was going to be difficult, he knew just as well that they would prevail.
As soon as the thugs had began blasting at the crate James had been using as cover, Carth had lined up two of the three outside, still waiting for their friends to clear the entrance before following in, while ensuring no one would come out from behind cover to shoot the thugs already deeper inside in the back.
The Republic soldier smiled as surprise etched itself on the third thug’s face when his two friends heads exploded, his twin Pistols having spat crimson energy pulses simultaneously at his targets.
He quickly turned towards the third one and fired again as his target as the third thug dove out of the open doorway’s field of fire.
He was too late, of course, Carth Onasi’s steady hands having blasted the life out of his body in the blink of an eye.
The thug’s smoking, lifeless body slapped hard against the permacrete ground as its former owner’s friends spotted the shooter in the rafters and opened fire on him.
Carth saw the thugs aim towards him and as they were firing, he did the only thing he could: he let go of his weapons and jumped off the rafters onto a stack of crates ten feet below, his rolling body absorbing the impact of his fall.
He stopped himself from rolling over the crate he had landed on and falling to the hard ground thirty feet below him, knowing the impact would have seriously injured him.
As he rolled back to the middle of the crate he had fallen on, he feverishly looked for his discarded weapons.
He saw only one near the edge of the crate, which he quickly grabbed as his cover was slowly being blown to bits, raining shards of hot plastic on his face and unprotected hands.
Looking around, he saw another crate stack of similar size, located away from the firing thugs, on which he could jump in order to take cover.
The only problem was it was over fifteen feet away from him.
He got on his feet in a crouch and backed up the closest he could the edge of his crate, and then, after only the faintest hesitation, he launched himself in a run and soared through the air to the other stack of crates, realizing in mid-air his jump was too short, panic almost overcoming his senses.
He barely succeeded in grabbing the lip of the other crate, but landed face first in its side, dazing him.
One by one, his fingers lost their grip, and he was falling.
His fazed mind had barely began to understand what was happening when he landed on his back, making a loud cracking noise, his head full of cobwebs, his heart full of hope the cracking sound he heard wasn’t his spine, before lazily spiralling out of consciousness.


As the man cleared the crate, his eyes saw James and bulged out as his mouth was about to cry for help.
As James's left fist impacted the man’s larynx, his right hand shot an atemi with bone crunching force at the man’s left wrist.
The Blaster was thrown clear of the man’s grip as his mind advised him his breathing was now much more labored.
His hands were reaching for his throat when the MACO leader’s hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in, a powerful knee imploding his rib cage, the sound of cracking bones being drowned by the constant Blaster fire.
He dropped the body to the floor, bemoaning the fact he had to resort to killing, angry that the first encounter with the thug had not sufficed to send the message that James and Carth weren’t to be messed with.
He felt foolish for believing it could have at the same time, knowing these criminals usually only understood one thing: extreme violence.
Unfortunately for them, James thought, I excel at extreme violence.
He did intend to leave at least one thug alive, if at all possible, in order to deliver a clear message to Davik that Carth and he weren’t to be messed with, or the cost to his operations would be high.
He went on for some time, stalking Davik’s men in the maze of boxes and crates and barrels under the cover of Blaster fire.
Three more thugs were down in short order when he noticed that there were no more Blasters firing, the warehouse now filled with the acrid scent of burnt plastic and melted metals slowly drifting up, being sucked away by the building’s air venting system and the open dock door.
The silence, added to the smoke, was like a death veil hung over the warehouse.
As he continued to make his way around the man-made maze, he silently touched his Com-link button to contact Carth, fearing the silence meant his partner was in trouble.
He heard the chirp of the Republic soldier to his left, close to the dock door, and so he slowly and cautiously made his way towards it.

“You should come out now with your hands up if you don’t want me to kill your friend”, Came a raspy, throaty voice.


Gurmok didn’t like speaking Galactic Basic, as its sounds were difficult to pronounce and hurt Gurmok’s throat, but he didn’t know if the big human understood Trandoshan, and so had decided to use it.
One more thing to make the humans pay for.
He was happy, though, for he had finally caught a lucky break.
The initial part of the battle had gone south from the beginning, the “Twin-shooter” killing three of his crew in record time before being shot off the rafters where he had been hiding by his remaining crew.
And though it had taken some time for his men to realize they were no longer being shot at, the soldier’s big companion nowhere to be seen, most likely eliminating the men he no longer saw from the security of the maze of crates, Gurmok had found the smaller human unconsciously sprawled on one container, no longer a threat.
The big reptilian had at first thought of killing the man, but then, knowing he was at a disadvantage against this man’s stealthy ally, had decided to make him his prisoner.
So with only four men remaining of a group of eleven, certain the others were all dead, Gurmok had decided to play his trump card.
He was no idiot, though, and so he was standing with the smaller human in front of him as a shield, while his back was straight up against a big stack of metal crates.
He had men on each side of his body, ensuring that the other human could not simply try to snipe him from any angle except up, which is where Gurmok’s gaze was directed.
His left arm was holding the now conscious human in a one-armed hug wile his right pressing the muzzle of his weapon, a nasty looking Trandoshan Disruptor Pistol, right under the man’s chin.
If the bigger man tried anything, his friend’s head would become red mist before the man could accomplish anything.
He didn’t have to wait for long for his opponent to show himself, hands in the air next to his head, a Blaster pistol in each hand held by an index finger in the trigger guard and a determined look in his eyes which immediately put Gurmok on edge.
This was not a man who intended to go calmly, the big reptilian knew instantly.
This was a predator, cornered and fearing for its life, and as dangerous as could be.
Which didn’t matter much to the reptilian thug, since he had every intention of killing the humans, using the first one simply as bait to get the big one to show himself.
And, Gurmok reasoned, the advantage was his at the moment, his men having their weapons trained on the big human, much more massive now when seen up close.

“Kill him!” He told his men in Trandoshan with a smile.

A smile that vanished as the big man exploded into action, blindingly fast, Blaster pistols magically aligning themselves in the man’s hands, mighty fingers pressing on the triggers with lighting speed.
While the man might not have understood the words Gurmok had uttered, he had apparently understood the intent clearly.
That, Gurmok reasoned, or the man had intended to act no matter what his opponent’s intentions had been.
Within a second, before any of his men could fire, they were dead on their feet, their lifeless bodies beginning to fall on the floor.
As the man turned towards him, the Trandoshan’s Distuptor pistol fired once, the shot only clipping the man’s left shoulder, coring through meat and bone to exit out the other side, finally impacting a plastic crate in an explosion of shards and vapor.
Gurmok’s actions had a price, though, for the smaller human used this distraction to snap an elbow at his scaly chin, knocking his head back at the crate, stunning him.
He instinctively pushed the small human down and tried to take aim at the bigger one again, only a Blaster bolt impacted on his right shoulder, his armor absorbing the brunt of the impact even though his arm numbed and the pain was great.
His weapon hit the floor as he stood there, his back at the stack of crates, the big man’s Blaster pistol aimed at his face.
The smaller man srambled to his feet while getting away from him, having appropriated Gurmok’s Disruptor at the same time.
The big human stood up, his shoulder seeping blood, an inch-wide hole seen going through.
Gurmok smiled, for even if he was going to die, he knew he had hurt the big man seriously.
When he saw the man drop his pistol and advance in a fighting stance, the smaller man moving away at a respectful distance from both of them, he smile even more, for while his shoulder was wounded, he was a Trandoshan, stronger than any human, as strong as most Wookiees, and an excellent unarmed combatant.
His teeth gleaming, his saliva dripping, he advanced upon his human opponent.
He swiped a left arm horizontally at the big human, hoping to disembowel him with his powerful claws, intent on following that swipe with a kick to his opponent’s groin, knowing full well how sensitive the human’s unprotected genitals were, the specie unable to retract them in a protective pouch inside their body like Trandoshans could.
He was surprised when his swipe went through unimpeded, grasping nothing but air as his momentum brought Gurmok sideways.
The reptilian thug felt a mighty impact on the left side of his head, followed by the incredible pain from his left leg as it was bent sideways by a powerful kick, the immense strength of the human surprising the Trandoshan, for Gurmok had never been hit as hard in his life, and he had battled mighty Wookiee warriors many a time before.
With no time to recover from the blows, he felt his head impact the crate he had been using as cover, cracking it from the strength of the blow, and he crumpled to the floor, pain flaring from all over his body.
As the soothing embrace of unconsciousness began to overtake him he heard the human’s voice in his ears.

“Go tell Davik to leave us alone, or he'll be in the fight of his life.”
Last edited by Praeothmin on Fri Feb 08, 2013 2:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by sonofccn » Thu Jan 31, 2013 2:47 pm

Poor Gurmok. He tried, Hell he came closer than a lot of beings did to putting down James.

Nice fight as always, chaotic but flowing if that makes any sense.

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by Praeothmin » Tue Feb 05, 2013 8:41 pm

sonofccn wrote:Poor Gurmok. He tried, Hell he came closer than a lot of beings did to putting down James.

Nice fight as always, chaotic but flowing if that makes any sense.
It does, as I copied... I mean, inspired myself from you and Breetai's styles...
I always felt my fights were too "clean", to "straight", while yours displayed the true feeling of battle, its chaotic and "anything-goes" states, where it's hard to follow everything that happens since so much is happening at the same time, where you have to re-read a passage twice to get a good image of all the actions and its actors...
And I liked that, as it felt more real than my fights...
So I stole the style... Or tried to... :)

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by sonofccn » Fri Feb 08, 2013 4:16 pm

Praeothmin wrote:I always felt my fights were too "clean", to "straight", while yours displayed the true feeling of battle, its chaotic and "anything-goes" states, where it's hard to follow everything that happens since so much is happening at the same time, where you have to re-read a passage twice to get a good image of all the actions and its actors...
Well I always enjoyed your previous fight scenes and they always flowed rather than the clunky mannerisms of when I try. Anyway there is much to be said for being "clean", when you have a tightly choreographed battle, rather than being all "shaky cam". My two cents of course.

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by Praeothmin » Thu Feb 14, 2013 9:13 pm

Chapter 82

His wound was serious, James knew, as his Pain Compensators had overloaded, flaring pain flooding his body, his left arm useless at his side.
He saw the concern in Carth’s eyes, and batted it away with a wave of his right arm.

“Let’s search these guys quickly for anything useful.” He told the soldier.

With a nod, his face still displaying his concern at the seriousness of James’s wounds, Carth went to work on the thugs’ bodies, while the big MACO leader took care of his wound as best he could using his field Med-kit.
Every movement he made shot incredible pain through his entire body, his left shoulder feeling as if it was dipped in molten steel.
Hardening his resolve, he pushed through the pain and went to work on his shoulder, the wound letting his blood flow out freely, too fast for James’s taste.
He tried to use the Auto-Suture probe to close the wound and stem the blood flow, but the wound was too large and he only succeeded in slowing the flow a bit.
He knew he would die if he didn’t stop his blood from leaving his body, and so he decided to use his only charge of Starfleet Bio-Foam to plug the wound in order to save his life.
He opened the container and set its nozzle against his bare flesh inside the wound, eliciting a yelp of pain, and then he pressed on the can’s trigger, releasing the aseptic foam filled with pain-killers, which expanded and slowly hardened inside the hole in his shoulder.
After a minute of waiting, seeing the clood now barely seeping from his wound, he used clean gauze to bandage his injured shoulder, storing everything back in its pouch on his leg when done.
Although he was feeling better, his wound no longer allowing his life to drain away from him, he was breathing heavily, his back up against a crate, when Carth came back from his foraging.
The thugs’ leader’s pistol was securely fastened in its proper holster, now slug across Carth’s right hip, with a nasty looking Heavy Blaster hanging on the soldier’s opposite hip.

“Look at what I found,” The man quipped with a smile, “Free weapons upgrades.”

He handed James another Heavy Blaster, similar to the one he now sported, which the MACO leader slung in his leg holster in place of his older one.

“I also found these Credi-sticks and some coins on these guys, but I haven’t counted them yet.”
He then noticed James’s weakened state, his uniform covered with blood and his bandaged shoulder, and his smile went away.
“We have to get you to a Medic, and fast.”

As he was about to help James move, he stopped, and looked around for a bit, before setting his sight on the thug leader.
It took a while for James to understand what the man was looking for, his brain feeling muddled, affected by the loss of blood and the pain-killers coursing through his body.
But then, as the Republic soldier bent over the thug leader’s body, his mind flashed an understanding of Carth’s actions.
The soldier knew James couldn’t really go out in public with blood all over his upper body, and so the man had looked for clothing that could cover James’s blood-soaked uniform.
The thug leader’s vest, worn under his armor, was large enough that even the big human would look small in it.
As Carth draped James’s shoulders with the vest, the pungent aroma of the lizard-like thug wafted up into his nostrils, waking him up instantly, if only for a while.

They left the warehouse cautiously, Carth looking for any thug that might have remained outside as back-up or simply to protect the thugs’ backs, preventing anyone from circling the group in a rear-attack.
They left the building in search of a medical facility to take care of the MACO leader’s injury, making their way as quickly as possible, though James’s condition made their progression slower than usual.
After obtaining directions for the nearest clinic, one belonging to Doctor Zelka Forn, they sped up their progress, Carth hoping they would reach the place before his companion was no longer able to move on his own.
The Republic soldier knew he could never carry the much bigger Tharnok to safety if it happened.

If only I had Jedi powers like him, he thought, things would be much easier.

Carth smiled inwardly, thinking how much easier their mission would be, finding Bastila Chan, if he also was a Jedi, like Tharnok.
They would be equals in battle, and the big man would not have been injured by saving his life in the earlier fight.
This was weighing heavily on the Republic soldier, the feeling he was simply a dead weight to his companion, that without Carth to slow him down, Tharnok, a very powerful Jedi judging by his battle feats –perhaps more powerful even than Bastila- the mission would already be over.
Thinking about it a bit more, he knew that even if he had Jedi powers, he would still not be a match for the battle prowess of his companion, a warrior born with fury like no other he’d ever seen in battle, making the man very dangerous even if he didn’t have any powers.
He’d seen it in Tharnok’s duel against Ice, an accomplished and by all accounts very formidable fighter, as even when the female duellist had taken Hyper-Stimulants to become as fast has his Jedi companion, the two of them being viewed as blurs on the display screens of the Duelling ring, the fight had been over within seconds, the dangerous woman’s skills failing to match his companion’s.
And he knew, even though it was easy to forget when travelling with a powerhouse like his Jedi companion, that he was an accomplished warrior as well, deadly with pistols of any kind, as well as an excellent hand-to-hand combatant.
And while he knew his worth as a soldier, and was proud to travel along a Jedi’s side, he finally understood the frustration of his fellow soldiers when they came back from some campaigns where they had battled alongside Jedi Knights and Masters, he finally understood why they did not want to repeat the experience.
Like everyone else, he did not like feeling inadequate, feeling like he wasn’t good enough, or tough enough, to feel like a toddler being allowed to follow and adult on an adventure, the adult always looming over the toddler, protecting him.
And yet, battling side-by-side with people who could jump higher, run faster than anyone else, who knew where their enemies were at all times, who could deflect weapon’s fire from themselves, who could dent armor with their fists, one only feel inadequate after a time, as if nothing one did on the battlefield truly mattered, if at all.
And Carth, as good a soldier as any, recipient of many battle commendations, had suddenly began to feel inadequate to the mission at hand after seeing Tharnok in action, and he didn’t like it.
But then the man’s pragmatism took over, and Carth Onasi understood something most soldiers apparently failed to: these feelings only came from within, as the Jedi never wilfully forced inadequacy feelings onto the people they fought alongside with, acting only to the best interest of the mission, using all the vast powers at their disposal.
It wasn’t their fault most people could never hope to perform the same feats without using technological cheats.
And Carth knew for certain, seeing how Tharnok had voluntarily, without any hesitation, given his money to a man he had just helped, that his Jedi companion was certainly not the kind of person to show others how far above them he was to satiate the need to feel superior.
He was deep in his thoughts when he noticed he had arrived at the clinic he was told about.
As he was twisting around to tell Tharnok, he noticed the man’s eyes were almost closed, as if he was about to fall into unconsciousness.
Knowing he could not carry the powerful human on his own, he quickly made his way inside, almost dragging the still-standing Jedi.

“…And you had better pay Davik’s protection fee, Zelka, or you will need to patch yourself up after a nasty spill.” A raspy human voice was heard saying as the doors to the clinic hissed open.

Carth entered in a small welcome office, with a small desk to his right.
In front of him were two menacing looking men, towering over a smaller middle-aged dark-skinned human.
The smaller man, though physically non-threatening, was giving the two ruffians a hard glare, letting them know he would not be so easily bullied.

He may not like what they’ll do to him if they make good on their threat, Carth thought.
And I’m in no position to help with Tharnok in my hands.

“Get out, the Doc ain’t seeing no one at the moment.” One of the ruffians told Carth.

“Good, since I’m someone, then, this means the Doc will see me.” He told the man, hoping they might try to take their frustrations out on him.

The bigger ruffian, slightly taller than Carth, and larger, though most of his girth being due to the man being overweight, turned around towards Carth and started for him.

“You made one hell of a mistake, you fething idiot.
And now, you’ll git yours.”

As Carth was letting go of one of James’s arms to get to his Heavy Blaster, the one on his left hip, the ruffian took a swing at him, now holding a vicious looking blade that had appeared as if by magic in his hand.
The blade came in quickly, and Carth knew he could not drop Tharnok and move fast enough to evade the blade coming at his stomach.
But then the ruffian’s blade was stopped cold less than an inch from the Republic soldier’s belly.
In a yelp of pain, the ruffian’s arm was twisted up and over his shoulder, and then back down at his back, the shoulder dislocating in a loud popping sound.
The ruffian cried loudly, his friend reaching for his own Blaster as he pushed the Doc in front of him, so Carth, his Blaster now in hand, couldn’t fire at him.
As the second man’s weapon, the first ruffian down on the floor writhing in pain, was being aimed at the Republic soldier, Carth suddenly felt as if he weighed nothing, as if the weight of the world had literally been taken off his shoulders.
He understood what it meant at the same time he saw the second ruffian’s Blaster pistol be diverted towards the ceiling as he was firing, right before a second hand impacted the man’s elbow, bending the arm backwards.
Before the man could even cry out in pain, his teeth were smashed further in his mouth by a powerful knee driven with all the might on an angry mountain of a man.

As Carth looked upon the spectacle of his Jedi companion, the two ruffians on the floor, out of combat, his pistol now useless, he felt awed.

“Frag Davik!” James said, before falling down on the floor, unconscious.

“This man needs help, quick!” Carth told the Doctor, who only nodded, dumbfounded.

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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Post by sonofccn » Fri Feb 15, 2013 2:40 pm

James can't catch a break can he? :)

Nor does it appear can Davik. He's just minding his buisness being a ruthless crimelord and some two bit Jedi keeps getting in the way.

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