Then the fight began - by Max's estimate someone had made their way to the tower, probably to give support fire to the kid. With a little resigned sigh the old man stayed in place for a few seconds longer - to hear several shots form what by his experience were from a 9mm handgun of some kind. Then with a little grin he took a proper aim at one of the slavers - one out of a pair hiding behind some dumpsters.

The unnerving little 'thup' of the gauss pistol was not very loud, however the second slaver had amazingly not lost his nerve when his compatriot's brains were scattered to the pavement. "There's more of em!" The fellow had yelled out while swiftly turning on his heels and began pouring fire towards Max's rough direction.

Max managed to pull himself in to cover just in time. He waited patiently, the slaver types usually emptied the whole magazine to make sure the fellow they were after was dead - or at least they used to back in the day. The slaver however was smarter than the average slavers back west and had taken cover to reload before resuming firing. The old man mumbled something under his breath and took a deep breath before spinning out of his cover and firing two shots towards the slaver.

The slaver got hit by both shots - one hit him on the left shoulder and the second one punctured his left arm. Amazingly he was still alive, but dazed - not quite able to believe his own luck. Max straightened up while drawing the slightly curving blade from his back and still keeping the gauss pistol fixed on the slaver.