CRASH!
The Mandalorian smacked straight into the side of the outpost, above a small walkway that was barely wide enough for him to fit on correctly. Though it made no matter, he managed to regain balance and planted secure feet onto the walkway. He had made it. He was on fire, but he had made it. He had done the idiotically stupid; flown straight across an active volcano, and had lived. His father had always told him he had thirteen lives, and by Neskar's reckoning, that was about his fourth. Nine left then. Perfecto. Neskar knelt down, and patted the small blaze at the bottom of his leg. The beskar had shielded his actual leg from any grievous harm, though the boot and bottom leg was darkened and scorched. He didn't mind, it would probably wash off. It might buff easily. Maybe. Note to self, get new boots. But that wasn't for now, now was the time for shooting stuff and generally causing mischief and whimsical slaughter.
He stood back up to his full height, and unsheathed both the beskad and slug ripper that had guarded him well over the years. Now.. where to go? The wall of the outpost sloped slightly up to the wall of the volcano, with the walkway he stood on surrounding it. Keep to the walkway for now. He agreed with himself, out of experience, and moved slowly, as to not fall from the walkway into the magma. That would be a gruesome death. He would work not to die like that, he determined. As he shuffled around the corner, he saw a small entrance in the wall, guarded by a sheet-glass window. A lovely insertion point if one could ever exist.
SMASH!
The window shattered beautifully. The Imperial Trooper nearly shat himself when Neskar wrapped an armoured arm around his neck, quickly jerked backwards in a crisp notion and threw him into the lava below. In fact, he probably did shit himself. A musky smell followed the trooper as he fell, so that probably confirmed it. Neskar leapt into the corridor, where three more Troopers stood with shocked expression. All were armed, and went to aim at him with practised aim. But Neskar was faster. He raised the ripper swiftly at the first and squeezed sharply. An eruption of slugs threw themselves at the trooper, and crushed the armour, imploding inside of him, leaving him to a gruesome death onto the floor, half of his torso exposed. He never even fired a shot. The other two did, however. The two blasts zipped towards Neskar, followed by others. They glanced off the side of his armour, for he moved swiftly into an alcove to take cover. The troopers kept up the fire, unabated by their fear of him. He would have to move swiftly, for this cover would not suffice for long. Too short, too thin, it wouldn't last. So neither would he. All of a sudden, there was a lull in the firing. Preying on the weakness, Neskar threw himself from the alcove, diving onto the floor, raising his ripper towards the closest trooper and sprayed violently. Not in that way. The slugs entered the visor of the trooper, rather unfortunately for him, and splurged bloody mess from the hole that was previously called his face. The last trooper froze in shock, which left Neskar the opportunity to throw himself up from the floor, wielding the beskad in his left hand, and swiftly dashed towards the trooper. Clad head to toe in beskar'gam, he must've been a frightening sight, for the trooper threw his rifle down onto the ground, and went to run away. But Neskar ran faster. He clamped a hand on the shoulder of the trooper, thrusting him to his knees, the trooper cried in pain, Neskar buried the blade of the beskad down into the neck of the trooper, splurting blood from the arteries in it. He fell down dead, the crimson liquid slowly pulsing from the wound. Neskar moved swiftly from the body, and the corridor was now empty. Now where? Where can I strike most effectively, and win glory?
