POOHEAD189

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Alpha Centauri had been colonized and terraformed during humanity's golden age, back when they still had the means to terraform entire planets and could deploy machines that would not immediately turn on their creators. Back when earth was the center of an expanding empire and the men serving under the alliance of earth nations were paid well and fought and explored with complete dedication to the ascension of humanity. The civil wars that followed had made it a second sol, in support of the loyalists, giving it more than a mere symbolic importance and signifying it as the banking capital, where the old money solidified. However, the invasion by the Hexanagallions had not been kind to Sol's sister system. The planet Bucephalus, known originally as Proxima Centauri B, had been photon bombed and knocked off its axis, destroying its verdant ecosystem and ruining its atmosphere. It's small moon had been shattered, and now the lifeless husk of a planet floated out of the habitable zone, caught between the three stellar bodies of the system in an endless loop of nights that lasted months and days that took years to complete.

The banking and casinos, luckily, had mostly conducted their businesses in stations surrounding the planets. They now mostly hovered in orbit of Proxima Centauri, still in Bucephalus's old orbit. It was practically an asteroid field of stations and loose planetary debris, all collectively known as the Golden Girdle, or simply the 'Girdle.'

"I haven't been here in awhile," Neil said to himself quietly.

Cygi popped up in front of him. "Owe money here, do ye?" She asked, her pirate garb still on.

Neil snorted. "Hey, just because I have a bounty doesn't mean I cause trouble everywhere I go. Only a lot of places, but no here I'm clean. S'far as I know, at least. As for money, I do feel responsible for the kitchen so I can probably scrounge up some credits here at the dice tables. That or I can get some prize money from the rekker ring."

"The what?" Jocasta asked, the ship now in automated flight as the Dragonfly pulled into the shield of the Alpha Acropolis, one of the larger stations that still clutched a bit of old Bucephalos as its base.

"They got mech fights here. They're not big mechs, and the money isn't as profitable as it used to be, but it's still pretty popular. I could give it a go... that or we can steal some cash."

The Dragonfly passed through the phaser shields, keeping the breathable atomsphere in the hanger but allowing ships to pass through freely. The Dragonfly barely made a sound as it landed, pressurized air streaming out as the bulkhead door slid open. Neil practically bounded out of the ship, Jocasta racing behind him just in case he was going to disappear, but when she leaped out, she saw him admiring the ship instead. He gave a low whistle, ducking down to peek at its sleek underbelly.

"I never actually got a chance to see the outside of her. She's gorgeous," he marveled.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

I briefly activated my power sword's energy core, the blood marring the blade evaporating instantly before my eyes. I shut it off, but did not sheathe it. Something told me I would have more use of it soon. Clara bit off the end of her bandage and finished tying it up, hefting her lascarbine with an iron will writ on her face. Lazarus seemed perturbed by their surroundings, but otherwise unharmed. Ortega watched the zealot with open suspicion, but made no move to strike her.

"Lead on," I ordered her, retrieving my autopistol from its holster. I felt a sharp stab in my side, but I gave no indication I felt a thing. There would be plenty of time for fretting later.

Elektra nodded with tear laden eyes, all but running out of the room to better fulfill what she likely thought was her act of redemption. I am not a priest, but the Inquisition is the left hand of the Emperor and one cannot be in the Ordo Malleus without some knowledge of sacred texts and rites. I was not comfortable being placed in the shoes of one who speaks for the Emperor himself, but I was not unused to such treatment, and in an extremely convoluted way, Elektra was not entirely incorrect.

We followed her brusquely, hurrying through a short corridor and passing a door bedecked with reliquary fetishes and scripture etched in blood. The zealot stepped through and shrieked as if she had been shocked, but no one else complained as they passed, finding we had entered a small lobby leading to a stairwell made of plascrete and adorned with crudely wrought symbols of the emperor made in stone and placed to frame the stairs on every level we passed.

"How many of these followers are there in the main hall?" Ortega asked as we reached the correct floor. Elektra turned to me, eyes pleading. I nodded my consent, and she turned to Ortega, placing a hand on Emmaline's arm for what I imagined was support.

"Dozens, though they might not all be present. I don't know if the master is there, either." She lamented cryptically, looking away as if ashamed. Ortega racked his shotgun again in preparation as Emmaline inquired about who this master was. But Elektra would simply shake her head and mumble, unable or unwilling to speak. Emmaline glanced my way helplessly, and I knew well enough that Elektra's mind was already fragile enough. Delving deeper could break her, and I was not yet prepared to kill a woman who had renounced the ways of the ruinous powers.

"Ortega, Clara, take point. Shoot anyone who does not look like a civilian, and quell anyone who does. I go in next. Emma, behind me. Lazarus, once we sweep in, find the roots of the station and pluck them. We need this cut immediately." I said. "Elektra, stay with Emmaline. I don't want you caught in the confusion."

"Right boss," Clara said, stepping to the left of the door, eyes peeled. Ortega joined her, signaling readiness. She nodded, and he waited for my go before he went. The big arbites raised his weapon, and blew the handle off the door with a well placed 10 gauge shell. The door lazily began to open before his foot sent it all but flying off its hinges. As he pulled back the forestock, Clara was already moving in. Her lascarbine cracked, superheated beams of red scythed into the room. I saw figures turning in surprise and falling, scorch marks erupting on their barely clad forms and one even lost a forearm, the lasbolt hitting him just at the joint of elbow. Ortega barreled through as Clara rolled to the left, gunning down three zealots with five slugs. I followed in after, giving a quick survey of the room that lasted less than a second.

There was a central table festooned with wiring and candles, a great collection of scrolls piled at its center. Skinny, used men and women in rags operated various consoles, or had been before they had run for cover. Dead PDF guards occasionally littered the floor, and the room along with its subsequent hallways swarmed with zealots. I stepped forward, igniting my power sword as a zealot wielding two long butcher knives leaped over its fallen companion and bore down on Ortega before he could rack another round in. My sword cut through him from abdomen to collarbone in a backhanded stroke. He fell with a cry to the emperor on his lips.

The irony was not lost on me.

"Lazarus, find the signal before they can utilize it!"

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

I had admittedly been worried about Camilla. She had followed me as if drunk, but she had collapsed onto the bed and spent the rest of the afternoon asleep once I had procured a room, until she awoke just after midnight. I had decided to check her, divining what I could about her and making my prayers to holy Sigmar, seeking guidance on her health once I had finished with the physical inspection. She seemed fine, though I could not help feel somewhat sour about something. Guy Du Ponce was one thing, but I did not know what sort of things he had envisioned about Camilla and it troubled me.

And it troubled me that I was troubled.

Again, I questioned myself on why I was here, but watching her sleep made me realize I would have traded this for the long road to the capital of Reikland, even if I had rewards awaiting me when I was received there. Just like the other night, I felt like she was like a painting. Even if she did snore like an ox. In the meantime I grabbed something to eat, and left her a plate of ham, cheese, and chopped tomatoes and celery. My own plate I devoured very quickly and almost literally inhaled the water pitcher. And then I had asked the staff about a bowl of their coldest water to be brought to the room and went out to see what news I could find in the meanwhile. Once back in the room, I unwrapped my bandaged hand and gingerly placed it within the cool liquid, seething at the sudden rush of sensation. But after a moment it felt better. Even I slept a bit, after that, though I woke up before she had aroused.

When she awoke she seemed much the same. Perhaps slightly more vibrant from the rest, which was a high bar because I had thought her vivacious in body and spirit beforehand. She even looked a year or two younger, oddly enough. I told her what I knew and made a few jests, but then she apologized.

This might be difficult to imagine, but I could count the times someone has apologized to me on one hand in the entirety of my life, and it certainly was never from someone like Camilla. It made me feel sentimental, which was annoying. This woman really was throwing me into a lot of emotions and bad decisions recently.

"I believe what you meant to say was 'thank you,' I remarked wryly, but my face softened and I gave her a much warmer look than even I intended. "But either way, you're quite welcome."

"So, why did you come back?" Camilla asked, looking at me curiously. She twirled a small wave of her hair in her finger. "Not for me, right?"

"No," I laughed. "No, of course not. I'm interested in the gold, and admittedly I love the weather here, the sea air agrees with me, plus I can't stand that blathering captain..." We both shared a smile. "But, you know, now that I am here..." I lifted myself off the chair, took her hand in mine and kissed the back of it. "It would be my delight to stick together. Just a smart move, of course."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

I make it a point to be honest in these briefings, and I will not change that policy here. Emmaline tells me that I had secured a cable-line from my belt to the antennae and had rappelled her down safely, whilst the others followed on the same line. Lazarus had purportedly climbed down on his spindly mechanical limbs like a great spider, using the grafted steel and flaws in the material to cling to. I cannot recall that, truthfully. All I remember is the pain.

If you haven't been shot and then hastily placed into surgery before surviving an aerial crash, I can confirm it feels like hell. I felt a wetness around my abdomen, but I did not bother to check, and I assured Emmaline I was alright, once my vision refocused and I could see more than a red haze.

Once my eyes could see well enough, the first sight I was privvy to was a young aritocrat with an illegal chem-inhaler, gazing at me with hopelessness in his eyes. His glasses were ill-balanced on his nose, and he seemed to take my bloodshot look as a sign of hostility. The acne-ridden youth threw the chem-inhaler into the air and ran back across the steel decking of the landing into a pair of double doors. I looked and saw other youths hastily following, dropping or tossing spraycans they had been using to vandalize the side of the hive with crude drawings depicint Saint Allesia in coitus with some unknown Ecclesiarch. I checked my auspex as I inquired on where exactly we had landed.

"We have arrived at the broadcasting hub for the entire hive of Gravemire, inquisitor." Lazarus said as we began to move forward, wading through the forest of antennae on the path towards the doors. "However, I deduce the displays that monitor the activities broadcasted will be inside."

I unholstered my gun, the sparking valkyrie above us making a sudden rending of metal as it plummeted the last thirty meters to the floor. Black smoke choked the air and plumed like a beacon into the sky as we departed, and another small explosion buffeted the air.

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

I had spent some time in Tilean villas during my stay at Pavona, mostly to entertain nobles or fair contessas with a bit of singing or knowledge of the empire, or regaling them with battles of ancient history. I even knew a small bit of the Elven tongue which I admittedly embellished so as to gain some favor with the local aristocracy. There are at least a dozen courtiers in Pavona now that speak a bastardized form of Elvish that any native born from Ulthuan would spear on the spot if they heard the crude and babbling faux-tongue of their sacred language. Anything to get some women and some gold, in my eyes, and might I add, in that order. And it was good hands-on experience, pardon the pun.

There were villas located in the pastoral lands surrounding the city states called Villa Rusticaes, with miles of land allocated for the growing of cash crops and luxury goods for the wealthy landowner to pick at their leisure, viticulture being quite popular. The more common, city based villas were Villa Urbanae, small estates cordoned off by lush hedges and small gardens in the cities, often used as sumptuous homes for the politician on the go who couldn't afford the time to leave the walls of the city. I had found the ladder in this case, and I was hit with a wave of deju vu as I scaled the wall and slid through the hedges, something I had done more than once in my days at the university. At then as now, it was to look for a beautiful woman. I suppose I was not much different these days.

Stepping in, I found the estate was made in the Martius style. A courtyard decked with potted plants from far off lands, hugged by a multiple columns holding a curved arch at the back of the small square in the style of the old tilean theaters. The second floor had an open hall that served as a roofed balcony overlooking the stone-floored yard, with chairs and oil lamps ready to host a party. All of this was fairly typical. What wasn't typical was the vast majority of the imperial gold in a cart at the very center, guarded by four men.

I froze. I knew they had seen me, at least initially. Then I looked closer, and saw not only had they not moved, but they were either asleep or dead, positioned there by some unknown player.

"Monsieur!" I heard, nearly ripping my soul from my body. I flinched in fright and my eyes shot up to the second floor balcony. I saw the smiling face of Guy Du Ponce there, bedecked in chainmail armor and handsome surcoat. His sword at his belt and eyes off-putting in their cheer. "What in the name of ze Lady are you doing here? I had thought you had left with your Imperial friends! It pleases me to see you are well."

He began to walk across the expanse of the aisle until he reached the stairs leading down.

"It pleases me to see you are well too," I said, my mind racing. "And evidently very rich."

"Well, I did not have your luck, you see. I could not escape in time, so I had to make eh, certain alliances, no? I have been tasked with guarding the treasure. But, you did not tell me why you decided to come back." He reminded me, stepping down the last step and approaching me, as if to embrace me in his casual gladness. He seemed perfectly aware of the bodies, or unconcerned his men were still as statues.

"You know how it is, a woman gets you under her spell and a man does crazy things." I said, and Guy huffed a very sincere laugh, looking into my eyes and shaking his head. For a moment, I thought he was about to tell me a terrible truth, something gnawing at his soul. But a heartbeat later, he merely said:

"You have no idea how right you are, my friend," and before I could gauge the meaning of his swords, he threw a punch at my face. His fist was decked in mail and I was notably unarmored, but luckily it was only a glancing blow. I staggered and dropped my staff, bracing myself on the gold cart. When next my eyes whipped back at him, he was already slashing at my neck with his sword to finish me. I yelped and threw myself on the ground, his longsword biting into the wooden panel of the cart. He yanked at the blade, but pulled it out a second too slow. I tackled him from below, trying to flip him over. He struck my back with the pommel of his sword, but I did not stop my grappling until his feet were in the air and he crashed onto the stones heavily.

Taking my staff, I spun it and brought it down, hitting the knight on the side of the helm. The blow either dazed him or killed him, I wasn't sure. All I knew was that Camilla had to be here. He had no reason to think of me as the enemy unless he had what I was after. Sure, he could have the gold and wish for me to keep permanent silence, but a Brettonian knew the importance of chivalry, and as strange as it sounded, I was in the middle of a chivalrous act. I looked past him at the gold, admired its beauty for a moment, and then cursed and turned back to run inside. I did not pay much attention to the decor. It was typical of most villas, paintings, windows, couches one could lounge or make love on. Instead I threw open every door I could, finding naught but papers and cabinets of food. I grabbed an apple and devoured it as I ran upstairs, having momentarily forgetting how hungry I was.

The first oak door upstairs I opened, I dropped my half eaten apple and saw Camilla. The woman had collapsed by the side of the bed, blood caking her neck and hand.

"Sigmar no," I said, the words erupting from my throat before I realized what I said. I hurried over to her and dropped my staff, gently cradling her head so it could lay on my lap, examining her. I wiped away the blood, momentarily relieved that her throat had not been slit. "Camilla? Camilla, wake up! If you die right here I will be livid as hell, mark me! Camilla!" I shook her gently, a hint of desperation in my voice.

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

I wish I could appreciate the tilean architecture, but slinking through the streets and trying to remain away from the eyes of battling Condottieri was enough to keep my mind occupied. That and my constant questioning of my sanity. I had everything I ever wanted awaiting me back in Altdorf, and yet I was here, turning back around every other street as men actively sought or butchered one another. More than once did I think I would have to defend myself in fear of my life, but always I managed to step back into the shadows or keep myself just beyond a guardsman's reach. Luckily, I was a man of many talents, and one of my best talents was running away.

After I made my way out of a particularly blood soaked alley, I found myself on the main thoroughfaire, the sun bright in my eyes. I blinked and turned east, where the light wasn't so blinding, and made my way there, passing over well maintained bushes and flowers in the center of the street. I climbed over a small white wall, believing I was heading for a less popular way back to the palace.

A familiar horse whinnied as my feet hit the ground, apparently startling the beast. It stood tethered under an elaborate walkway, next to an old style villa a small ways up the hill. It was brettonian gelding, and I recalled seeing the same horse tethered up just the day before and recognized it as Guy Du Ponce's steed. That was very curious, I found. Perhaps the brettonian had decided to hide out here as the violence died down. I felt he might be a useful ally in trying to locate Camilla, so I climbed up the small tiled street on the hill. And yet as I approached, I felt the same elusive feeling as I had just this morning.

Something did not feel right, I decided.

Ah, yes. Follow your instincts. That served you well just an hour ago.

Shut up, you love tilea. And tilean women, particularly.

I went back and forth in that manner for another minute, but regardless I made my way up the street. However, I decided not to knock on the front door. Perhaps a back entrance would be more appropriate, just in case my instincts weren't wrong. I was quite good at games of chance, after all. Even when I wasn't cheating...

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

The Imperials made it out of the city once the sun had arched across the sky, the heat pressing down on them and identifying the time as mid-afternoon. A few streaks of clouds were scattered amongst the great blue expanse, but otherwise it was clear like the sea. I had yet to eat all day and he felt it in his stomach. Captain Muller and his men had to slay a few stragglers attempting to harass them, but the gates had been unmanned and the entirety of the troupe had all but stumbled out of the front gates, the road before them empty save for a few men with donkeys escaping the city with haste, almost on the horizon now.

"Heinrich! Headcount!" The Captain bellowed with a roar, and I felt they now looked quite the sight. Standing just at the spot they had occupied yesterday before they had traipsed into the city with high hopes and endless possibilities. Now they were run out like whipped dogs. Even knowing the intricacies of the context, it was somewhat embarrassing.

"Thirty four men sir, not including you, the chamberlain, and the priest." Corporal Heinrich called, saluting. Good man, Heinrich. Hell of a card player. But it was then I realized.

"My, that was harrowing. I suppose we should try again next season?" Chamberlain Shultz asked, huffing. He coughed from the dust in the air.

"We'll send an army next time. This insult cannot stand," The Captain growled, glaring at the city as if the very stone itself had insulted his mother. "We haven't even our supplies or gift of gold. We'll have to forage and gather what we can with what little we have. Maybe in a day or two we can find some manner of shelter."

"Where's Camilla?" I asked, spinning round. I wasn't a large man, but I was taller than the average imperial and couldn't see her anywhere in the small gathering of troops. "Did anyone see her get shot or taken?"

"No sir, none..." Heinrich said, unsure of what could have happened.

"She was nothing but a tilean rat," Muller said, glancing at the gate and turning back to the road. "This city is a sewer. She just slunk back in. You needn't worry about it. We must tend our own."

Anger rose in me like a bubbling volcano. The bastard had always been rude to me, but never had it gotten to him like this. Perhaps because those other than himself that he belittled were his men he needed to keep discipline over, but I was effected this time quite profusely. I would not let that go unanswered. "She was a good woman, who helped rescue the chamberlain and saved my life. I'll hear no disrespect, Muller."

I did not even bother to call him captain. His eyes blazed at me for the insult, but the chamberlain stepped between us.

"My lads, please. We are safe now, yes? Let us go back and make our reports." He said, and then turned to me with a smile. "You saved my life, herr priest. Once I am back I will give a recommendation that you make bishop, and my support for whatever your endeavor is, my good man!"

That brought a dazzling change in my thoughts for a moment. The chamberlain granting me his patronage? No one could have asked for a higher backing save from the Emperor himself! This was too monumental for me to really appreciate at the time, but I was aware of the vastness of the potential. I could even be granted leave to join the Colleges of Magic, or study in the highest academies of sciences in Altdorf, or Medicine in far off Araby! Gold, power, and position were in my future if I merely stayed the course.

"Aye," Captain Muller had to agree, albeit begrudgingly. "You saved the chamberlain and kept your word. You have my respect, priest. I never thought I would say this, but thank you. Let the woman go and let's start our journey back, eh? After the reports are written, we can put this whole thing behind us."

They all turned to leave. The men began to grab what packs they had set down, grumbling but moving all the same. I felt them moving forward like a tide being pulled back into the ocean, running all at once around me. But like a rock, I only felt the sand slipping away.

I did not move. I could not move, I found. Even when I willed my foot to lift up, it did not step forward. That was curious. Why not?

I glanced back at the open maw of the gate, and I saw Camilla's face before my eyes. The glimpse of her from the wall just behind me, the tripping in the street, the dancing and dinner and kissing by the moonlight. The night of fervent love-making and this day of survival and violence contrasted by her quick wit and beauty. And now she had gone back into the city where most of the officials wanted her dead or worse. But did I really care? More than a potential future? More than a cozy life back in the north? Only a fool would. I could get a dozen women if I wanted to, and I had only known her a day! I could not care this bloody much, even at the cost of her life! Right!?

Fuck, perhaps I did.

When next they turned around, I was already long gone, having run yet again into the belly of Remas to find Camilla. Damn her, but I could not leave her to get caught.

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Neil opened his mouth, and then closed it again. His eyes squinted, and then he blinked as he came to terms with what was occurring. "So... hold on, just because the government is offering my bounty doesn't mean I owe you the bounty! You aint turned me in yet. Plus I took care of those bounty hunters." He poked his chest with his thumb, puffing it out. "I'm tryna be fair here! But yeah, I did cause a fire. It was that or be taken to their ship."

He did legitimately feel a bit bad about that, though she was making it difficult not to at least stun her and negotiate with her in the cell. The kitchen damage was a sound debt, however. "But that's fair, I owe you that, and I can work that off in... uh..."

Neil squatted, resting the modified rifle on his knees and counting with his fingers, mumbling to himself as he started calculating how long it would take to pay back that amount with a job like the one he had before he was skyrocketed off Hyperion 3. Maybe he could be a bounty hunter too? Or he could steal the money. He heard there was a big casino in Proxima Centauri. Did Charlie still work there? Man, he had not seen him in forever. He wondered if he could rig some dice games for him?

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

"Subroutines intact, power still up, motherboard still impressive as hell...Ok..." Neil murmured, sliding out of the paneling and reapplying the flat back just under the monitor. The mainframe of the ship was located in the cockpit, but Neil could pull off a few wonders from the lesser directive tables on the ship. He placed his back against the wall and sat there, realizing he now had to think...

What to do next?

The grav had come back on and the two ships had detatched. That much he could gather from the sound and the...well, the gravity. But now that he was undetectable and he had three guns to choose from, he needed to figure out on what his plan was. Yeah, he could get the drop on Jocasta, put a gun on her. But was that the best thing to do? Even he managed to shove her in the cell and took over the ship, it would take a lot of doing to make Cygi loyal to him, and if he was completely honest, he didn't want to fuck over Jocasta or her little bot. He groaned.

He really needed to let go of this attraction he had, but he had to admit her first impressions are just amazing.

His thought process was interrupted by the jump engine. He knew that whirring anywhere. Judging by the speed of its acceleration, Neil could tell it was a good engine. This little bird was a nimble little starship. If Jocasta hadn't been blindsided he doubted those amateurs could have caught up.

As the ship slipped into the jump, Neil decided to just do what he did best.

Improvise.

---

"Light damage to the ship. Mostly aesthetics, but the hull could regain some integrity!" Cygi said, her outfit now essentially a Mary-Poppins costume, her left leg out behind her and her head forward like the human version of a pointer hound, umbrella just above her. The meter on the jumpspace display giving small possible variations to their destination. It was exceedingly difficult to change a route once jumped, but small dimensional abnormalities could be manipulated in rare circumstances. "Closest system is the Alpha Centauri!"

"Ugh, I need a bath...and a drink...and a job. Mom was right." Jocasta sighed, leaning back in her chair and blowing away a fringe of her hair.

"Yeah, I've been there." Neil said. Cygi turned and her eyes quite literally popped out of her head in a cartoonish fashion while Jocasta blinked, looking at Neil like a deer caught in the headlights. He stood in the doorway to the cockpit, Vapodon blaster rifle aimed at her. Easy to load, clean, and operate, it had bipod attachment folded and its curved magazine jutted out from the top like a horn.

"Ok, I know this is awkward." He said. Damn, now he was nervous. "But I really like living, and I don't like that cage at all. And I know I can't really talk my way out of that bounty, but I also seriously don't want to shoot you either. So can we negotiate on something or...?"

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Neil held his hands up to show he had no weapon as the cell opened. The big merc up front aimed his gun at Neil, but didn't fire. He seemed to think the journey to their ship was so close, stunning Neil wouldn't be needed. He grabbed Neil's shoulder and yanked the scoundrel out of the cell.

"Alright, alright!" Neil said, but only halfheartedly. He wasn't too disturbed by switching custody from one bounty hunter to another. Granted, Jocasta was a lot easier on the eyes, and nicer, but hey it happens. The mutant regarded him with open contempt, but Neil just gave a little wave before he was pushed again. All guns now trained on him, he stepped forward.

"So, you guys been a team long?" He said as he followed the slim one, the other two just behind. "Or was it me that brought that happy family together?"

"Shut it, you little shit," one of the big ones behind him spat.

It was at that moment the gravity shut off. Neil felt a small tug at his center, and then his whole body was weightless. He blinked as he began to float, now fully a meter off the ground. The bounty hunters grunted in surprise and started floating too, cursing and confused.

"Ok, that wasn't me," Neil said, having kept completely still, though his eyes snapped left and right.

"If this was Borlaine's doin', I'll wring his neck," the mutant growled, flapping his hands to try and get somewhere he could push off for momentum. Neil decided now was the perfect time to try his luck. He wasn't an expert at no-grav combat scenarios, but he had fought plenty of times in his mech in upper orbit and it was not dissimilar in principal. He suddenly tucked his legs under him and using his arms as weights, spun in mid air to get horizontal, his chest parallel to the floor. His legs snapped back, crunching into the face of the bigger human, breaking his nose. Blood slowly floated in the air as his laspistol went off, the projectile burning a mark in the wall and ricocheting into another room before dissipating. Neil's body shot forward, and he grabbed the skinny hunter's neck in a chokehold. His bicept against the man's neck, he grabbed for Neil's arm, the hunter's firearm now floating without a wielder.

Neil thought he had the situation well in hand, but these guys weren't bounty hunters for nothing. The slim one tucked and rolled almost as Neil had, sending the scoundrel end over end, bumping his head into the wall. Neil saw the other two hunters, using one another to push their bodies in opposite directions so they could grab sections of wall to better pull themselves toward Neil. Before he knew it, the skinny hunter had reversed positions with him, grappling Neil now as the other two big ones flew in to help. Neil tugged at the arm around his arm and neck, but it was no use. On instinct he kicked out, his foot shoving the Vapodon blaster rifle down the hall as he reached behind him, grabbing for the hunter's belt. His fingers found what they were looking for just before his vision started to fade and the man's rancid breath the last thing he might remember. Quickly, he pulled the man's combat knife out, redirected the blade, and stabbed into the hunter's arm.

His screech echoed down the hall and he hastily let Neil go, crying out in pain as even more blood meandered through the air. Neil kicked off the wall and shot into the next room, apparently finding himself in the kitchen. He passed by a decal plastered above the sink with the script "Certified Baddie" on it. Just under it and above the sink was a space in the wall that one could use to speak or watch whoever was eating in the mess hall. Neil passed by the fridge and food compartments before he hit the electrowave cooker, pulling himself down by the handle as he started to rifle through the drawers. Can openers, utensils, and spices flew this way and that. Neil couldn't find anything he could work with, but then his devious mind started working and he glanced at the oven.

"Oi, where'd he go!?"

"Down there you shit!"

The three rounded the corner to see Neil floating there, his ass out and his front half buried in the electrowave oven. Just as they realized he wasn't knocked out or stuck, Neil pulled himself out and shut the door of the oven, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. He glanced to his left and saw the bounty hunters aiming their weapons at him.

"Shit!" He cursed, having expected to give a quip or maybe explain what was about to happen, but instead he shoved himself off the wall and pressed his limbs tightly together so he slipped just out of the kitchen under the wall-space as their lasblasts hit the oven.

The ensuing explosion from the wires Neil had cut and readied to ignite when at a certain temperature were instead 'detonated' in a sense, immediately. Neil spun to look, feeling the heat from the flames, the light mesmerizing. One did not get to appreciate fire in no-grav scenarious often. It was like water, running over everything it touched. It didn't keep long on the laminate tops and appliances, but it caressed the men in a deceptively enchanting fashion. They couldn't appreciate it as much as Neil, though.

They just started screaming.