She slashed the net he had shot, and the ship had already started gaining altitude. There was absolutely no way someone could jump so high. When she jumped, Solo watched her fall back down, without having actually landed on the shuttle. "What was she thinking?" he shrieked aloud in utter frustration, "This damn shuttle," he kicked at the interior chairs, "Is fifty karkin' meters in the air! and gainin'!"
"You," he shouted, pointing at the droid pilot, "Follow her." The shuttle craned left and follow high above. Solo stormed up and down the corridor, thinking, calculating what he could do. No matter what he did, this Togruta just spat in his face. "Argh," he shouted angrily, slamming a fist against the wall. The durasteel dented inward from the crushgaunts. He took a knee and pulled out the trays below the row of seats.
He opened all of them up, searching the armory of weapons he had on standby for missions. He needed something. Something. His hands rummaged through the compartments, tossing aside blasters, sidearms and ten different types of cuffs. He took out a razor net pistol, and his DX-2 disruptor. He would have to rely on his ability as a gunslinger, because he sure was no marksmen.
"Keep her steady, and lose some height," he ordered, and the shuttle descended after the Togruta. He charged up the DX-2 and fired at [member="Elmora Raa"]. The DX-2 was a vicious and devastating weapon that disintegrated its target. It tore apart its victim at the molecular level, destroying their body tissues and bypassing most sorts of personal energy shields. He fired several shots, her only hope of survival was to use her lightsaber to block them, and it would shortcircuit them.
When the disruptor pistol overheated after continuous fire, he fired the razer net. It was used by particularly cruel bounty hunters to trap and restrain their targets. Made from strong cord embedded with razor-sharp barbs, the net inflicted wounds whenever the target moved against the barbs. This painful cutting also served as a deterrent to escape attempts.
It was a last resort. She was starting to become a giant pain in his arse. Even if she got away today, she couldn't run forever. No, he would make sure of that. He wanted that pilot, the Jedi and him came in a bundle. It was all or nothing. And if he didn't act soon, those wounds could prove deadly.
With that done, he grabbed the net gun from between the chairs, reloaded and fired another shot at Cryil.