Tournament Of Champions:Fringe!

[Arage Bao]

Betrayal was not unknown to him, the streets had taught him. Jared had nothing physical to defend himself with, no shield and his lightsabre was too far away to be of any help. Even if he had it in his hands, he had never been much of a duelist and besides a SMG who shoots as quickly as this one? Wouldn’t have mattered much anyway.

Only thing he had in his hands was.. his mask, so Jared did the only thing a man would do in his position. As the gun whipped up to shoot, he threw the mask at the gun. Understand this, it ain’t an alchemized metal, neither was it songsteel or some other fancy material. Just regular durasteel, with a soft leather-padded inside.

So the mask wouldn’t be much of a shield, but it might buy him some time. Maybe even punch the gun out of Dak’s hands, if he was lucky enough. Still, he hadn’t been fast enough to counter the first couple of shots, they hit him.

Not deadly shots though, call it precognition or just a decent amount of suspicion but he had had just enough time to absorb the blunt of the damage. He would have to visit a hospital soon, if he wanted to live. But he wasn’t dead just yet.

The shots impact made him stagger a bit backwards, as Jared’s hand whipped up itself and released a couple of kinetite balls. The dome around them dissipated, ain't nobody got concentration enough to do all those things at the same time.

Not big ones, medium-sized you could call them. Golf-balls, maybe. There were five of them, one was directed towards Dak’s chest, another one was directed at the general direction of Dak’s shooting hand. (Wide shoot, but hey. can’t blame a guy for trying)

The other three, would scatter themselves around Dak. Left, right and in front of him.

[member="Dak Canton"]

 

[Marcus Tritum]

The dude chucked his mask at me. I growled and bashed it out of the air with my left hand, sending the hunk of metal spinning away. I was angry now. Like, real freakin' raging. I hadn't felt this way in a while and I couldn't explain to you exactly why I felt this way now, except that I'd seen this guy who led the Fringe slaughter his own people like it was nothing. Not just slaughter them, even... he'd made them go insane. Their last moments had been filled with horror. They'd probably been happy after they clawed their eyes out, because then they wouldn't have to see whatever this guy had made them see.

I pushed my weapon forward, reaching my left hand up to grab the foregrip. My finger was still depressing the trigger, sending a slew of searing red bolts from the barrel that sizzled straight for the guy's chest. The first couple had hit him, causing him to stumble back, but now he was doing something else. Everything was happening in microseconds. As my Ripper spat more lancets of plasma at him, he hurled white spheres from his fingertips toward me. I turned slightly, angling my chest so that I wouldn't present a massive target.

The first one hit me and the impact made me feel as though someone was using me as a personal gong. My armor rang, but the white ball dissipated almost as soon as it hit my armor, leaving me feeling like I'd just taken a wallop from a fast ball across the chest. The angling helped as the impact ran across my chest rather than impacting it head on. The second one hit my hand and splashed uselessly against the terentatek hide. Then the other glowing orbs slammed into the ground around me and exploded like grenades. I was flung backward and off my feet. I hit the ground painfully, feeling the air suck out of my chest. I couldn't breath and my broken rib was screaming at me. Kriff. This wasn't good. I sat up, pushing through the pain of not being able to breath.

Republic Commando armor is rated to withstand the the point-blank explosion of a frag-grenade. My phrik plated version of it can do more or less the same, but I still felt it in the coalescing bruises gathering all over my body.

Still unable to breath, I focused in on completing the mission. The fingers of my left hand whipped toward my thigh holster and I dragged out my Czerka Machine Pistol loaded with 9mm Flare slugs that would set my target on fire with two or more successive hits. In a haze of pain, I was running off of 5 years of SpecForce training and another dozen or more of hard living. I raised both of my pistols at my opponent and fired, trying to get to my feet as I did.

A hail of blaster bolts and pyrophoric gel filled slugs zipped toward my opponent. Countering slugs and blasters took two different types of powers from my understanding... I'd see how easy that was for this guy.

[member="Jared Ovmar"]

 

[Arage Bao]

Immediately flew off, and scrambled to get both of his guns in position to start shooting at me, I raised up a Force Barrier in front of me. Gotta understand something; I ain’t a Barrier Wizard. Sure they are basic applications of the Force.. but I never extensively trained against them, most of the shots were being taken cared of regardless.

But then one of the shots went through, I ain’t sure how that was possible. As I said, I never really trained a lot with shields. But one of the blasters hit me in the knee, I could feel it going out from beneath me.

Usually I’d have just absorbed the blast, I mean. Tutaminis is my second major application of the Force, but come on. When you are busy trying to uphold a shield, trying to ignore all the pain in your back? You ain’t got the time to take care of something like that.

Gotta have more concentration. Which I was severely lacking at this point.

I had to take this guy out, and I had to do it quickly. Because I didn’t have much more time left to me.

So while slumping to one knee, I swept my mental eye over the field and.. noticed something. Not all the contestants were dead yet, sure some of them were beyond help; insane because of my application of the Force.

But.. some of them could still be used, in some way at least. So I did.

I forced a simple command into their weakened brain: “Go and get that karker.”

And so they did.

I wasn’t able to count, it was a general command over the whole arena. Didn’t have enough concentration to actually make separate commands. But I’d guess maybe four or five of the best of the Fringe were now going to attack Dak from all possible directions.

They had the equipment, and they had some kind of training I’d think.

...more importantly, looking at his emotional reaction when I made them go insane.. he felt something for them. Now his friends? were going to attack him, what would that do to the man?

[member="Dak Canton"]

 

[Marcus Tritum]

"You've got to be kriffing me," I moaned for what had to be the third time that day.

About four of my ex-colleagues, now mindless minions of this mind frakker, moved to attack me. One problem. Most of them didn't have eyes. Yeah. You heard me. Blood ran down their cheeks from horrid, red sockets. As I sat up and got to one knee, the zombified best and brightest of the Fringe came out me. I did the only sensible thing. I ran.

Leaping up from where I sat, I started jogging for the nearest cover. Two shots clipped me, one over the shoulder pauldron, the other sizzling along my exposed calf and turning my run into a limp. I took cover behind another of those boulders littering the arena. I didn't have time to think about who I was killing. I just knew I had to stay alive. Akk eat akk galaxy, man.

The first guy limped along on a shot up leg, trying to raise a blaster rifle to bring to bear on me. He had eyes and he was closest, so I took him out first. The guy squeezed the trigger and a blaster bolt zipped away, slamming into my shoulder and charring the phrik. I steadied myself and squeezed off a burst of shots from the Ripper that took him in the chest. Superheated plasma opened up big holes in his torso in a splash of blood and burning flesh.

PING!

Something walloped against my back, nearly knocking me over. If I wasn't wearing armor, my spinal cord would have a nice big hole in it. I twisted around and found another guy crouching next to a rock, a slugthrower raised. More rounds spat forth from my blaster pistol, rebounding off the man's rifle and into his hand and side. He fell screaming to the ground, clutching the remnants of a hand. Out of action.

The other two wandered aimlessly, confused, eyes a gory mess. I grunted and sprayed them with a hail of Ripper fire. They went down.

I knew the Forcer was probably about ready to put the smack down on me. I needed to find an edge fast. My eyes fell on the rifle that the earth magic kid I'd been fighting earlier had dropped. Did it still have- yes... I raced for it, holstering my Czerka pistol and scooping the weapon up in my left hand, trying to ignore the pain in my broken ribs and the faltering step of my right leg.

Wheezing, exhausted, hurt, and really tired of all the Forcer wizardry, I moved behind the big wall of earth that the kid had erected earlier and used it as cover, glancing around I tried to get a bearing on the last remaining opponent. I was running on adrenaline and a good heaping of righteous fury.

[member="Jared Ovmar"]