Post by Seth on Dec 1, 2007 13:48:22 GMT -5
Seti Nar springs off the balls of his feet, flinging himself backwards and off of the grimy floor. The slug-throwers in either of his hands slightly jerk in recoil as he pulls on their triggers again and again. The shell casings fall to the floor. The bounty hunter who had been standing in front of Nar falls to the floor. He falls to the floor.
Another hunter comes running, firing a volley of blaster rounds towards Nar. He had expected as much of a welcoming, after all, there was a massive bounty on his head. Maybe it was foolish of him to have come here, fully knowing that everyone would be after him. But he needed information if he wanted to make it out of this one alive. And The Drunken Bantha was the place for information.
Nar’s back hits the floor hard and he skids a good distance due to the momentum of the initial movement. The bounty hunter in front of him is torn apart like a rag doll as the rounds from his weapons slice through him. The remaining hunters flock towards him, thinking that Nar could be taken easily, being on the floor. Of course, they were wrong. Nar’s head and left arm pivots in tandem to a Rodian. Three slugs catch the green alien in its leg, and it falls forward, losing its base. An overly enthusiastic human hunter jumps through the air with the intent of pinning Nar under his body weight. Nar is not nearly as excited with the idea as the human, and he brings his right arm around towards the diving hunter, filling him with a few hollow tip rounds as he passes by.
He gets to his feet to see a very large Wookiee standing in his path. Slowly, Nar looks upwards to the beast. The Wookiee opens its massive jaws, bellowing out in a horrendous roar. In one quick motion, the slug-thrower in Nar’s right hand is guided and fired at the creature’s knee. As it buckles, Nar twists his hip, driving his left elbow viciously into the side of the falling Wookiee’s head. The thing crumples to the floor in a pathetic heap.
The bartender gets feisty, drawing his choice of heat, an SS-2 Dual Carbine. Nice weapon. The cloak clasped to Nar’s shoulders swoops out behind him in an ark as he turns and pivots, dropping to one knee. The fat bastard is flung into the bottles of liquor as several fist-sized holes appear magically on his chest. For a moment, Nar remains that way, turned at the waist, firearms held next to one another, smoke seeping from the barrels of either of the Seburo BcB56nS slug-throwers, aimed at the now dead target.
A new contender approaches, and Nar rises to his feet, straightening himself as he lets the empty slug-throwers fall out of his grip and on to the ground. Hopping off of one foot, his right leg coiled, bent at the knee and pressed against his chest, he lashes the very same leg out into a vicious side kick, driving his heel into the hunter’s neck. The hunter drops his weapon and stumbles back, gasping as well as gripping at his neck, and the crushed wind pipe.
Another hunter thinks that Nar can be taken from his blind side, and runs towards him. The five fingers of Nar’s left hand are pressed against the five fingers of his right. He twists his joined fingers against one another and pulls them apart, five lines of slice wire connecting his hands. Both of his hands held horizontally, palms towards one another with the wires between like a cobweb, he quickly swipes his arms from right to left, and the hunter’s weapon falls to the floor in neatly cut pieces. Although thoroughly startled, the hunter composes himself and draws a rather large and crude looking vibro-blade, jabbing it forward at Nar’s neck. Nar throws his body weight to the floor, moving sideways. His moment continues downwards, and as his forearm hits the floor, his right foot hooks the hunter across the side of his head, sending him crashing into a nearby table. Pushing off the floor with the very same forearm, Nar follows the same path backwards, getting to his feet in one fluid, graceful movement. A glance is thrown over Nar’s shoulder, towards the dead cantina for new attackers.
A spiked boot steps into the cantina, breaking shards of glass under its weight.
The sensors in Nar’s helmet whir, alerting him of a Zero-class threat in the immediate vicinity.
A tattered and torn cloak gently sways in the breeze, almost resembling a flag.
The Electronic Magnets in Nar’s palms stir, tuning into the frequency that matched the two Merr Sonn 434 Death Hammers strapped to his back.
A single ray of light hits the T-shaped visor of the battered Mandalorian helmet, bending across its surfae and gleaming brilliantly.
A bottle of Kunian wine falls off of the shelf and hits the floor, painting the surface in a violent red.[/color]
As if they were two shaped from the same mold, they both step into motion at the exact moment, staring the battle. Calmly, Boba Fett raises his Blastech EE-3 to shoulder level. The red robes draped about Nar’s armor billow out in a deafening sound as he spins on his heel, Death Hammers sweeping towards Fett. The silence of the cantina is raped as the blasters screech, spitting their deadly loads towards one another. The braided Wookiee scalps and torn cape are suspended mid-air as Boba Fett dashes to the left, strafing fire in a continuous line. Seti Nar throws his head back as well as his body weight, executing a perfect back-flip. Several charred holes form on his cloak as the blaster fire spears through it, leaving a perfect line of several lines on the wall as well.
Boba Fett presses his side against a duracrete pillar, his rifle held against his chest, pointed to the ceiling. Nar crouches on the floor, his back pressed against an upturned table. He turns with the intent of firing, and is promptly greeted with a Locris Syndicates Type-12As explosive rocket. Action comes before thought. Nar kicks the table upwards, sending it into the rocket and intercepting it. The piece of furniture successfully knocks the missile out of its path, sending it into the wall, which now has a tasteful and stylish smoldering crater in it. Nar rolls on the floor, quickly crouching behind a new table as Fett steps out, following Nar’s path with more sizzling bolts. Slowly, Nar slides his blasters into their respective holsters. His right hand tugs off the Force Spear from his left arm, and holds it in its retracted state.
The stock of his EE-3 nestled against the crook of his armpit, his left hand wrapped around the barrel, Boba Fett advances towards the hidden Nar. His head as well as rifle snaps up as he catches a glimpse of red. In a blur of vermillion, Nar springs forth, his right foot lashing out at Fett’s head in a downward ark. Fett was not to be taken by surprise, and his left forearm takes the brunt of the kick as he brings it up. Before Nar’s foot touches back down on to the floor, his hands deftly move over the spear, which telescopes to its full length, the blunt end crackling with electricity.
Nar knew that Boba Fett could not be given the smallest chance. The slightest error would mean his life, and no less. Therefore, he continues his attack. Nar’s left arm guides the blunt end in a left-to-right swing towards Fett’s head. But Fett was faster than would be expected, and the spear meets the barrel of the EE-3, a large spark flashing as metal meets metal. Nar draws back, jabbing the spear forward at Fett’s chest with a lunge. The Bounty Hunter sidesteps, swiveling his rifle towards Nar, the spear stabbing the fabric of his cloak rather than armor and flesh. Even in movement, Nar’s eyes track Fett’s weapon, and as the Bounty Hunter’s right forefinger presses down on the firing stud, he pulls the right side of the spear back, the left side swung forward and blocking the bolt. He continues the momentum, guiding the still swinging spear in a downward manner towards the side of Fett’s leg. The Blastech is swung as well, clashing with the spear and sending it away from its initial target.
The spear cuts through the air under the hands of its owner. With skill that could only be called art, Seti Nar swings his weapon masterfully again and again towards Boba Fett. But not one strike finds its mark, for Fett was not without his own resources, meeting each strike with just as much vigor with his Blastech EE-3.
The bolt passes by his head, scorching the surface of his helmet. If he had not moved, it surely would have drilled a neat hole through his helmet, as well as the better part of his skull. From that same sideways position, he drives the spear upwards towards Fett’s chin in a large swing. The left forearm of Fett crashes downwards into the spear, hard enough to jar the grip that Nar had held. The Blastech EE-3 is swiveled and fired in a precision that was uncanny as well as frightful, the bolt tearing through Nar’s right knee. He falls to the floor, the spear slipping from his grip as his legs buckle. Smoke rises from the hole in burnt armor, the sickening smell of charred flesh filling the empty cantina. He shows no pain as he looks up into the barrel of the Blastech EE-3 bearing down on him.[/font]
No regrets. It was only natural that number two lost to number one. I had never posed the question to myself even though others had. “Are you better than Boba Fett?” They being Kabal, Kata, and Persov. It didn’t matter to me. I never had thought we would cross paths. Was I afraid of Boba Fett? Was I afraid of death, even as it bore down at me?
No.
I wish it had come earlier. I wish he had come earlier. He hears the click, as do I. I can only smile to myself as he looks down, seeing the thermal detonator gripped in my hand.[/color][/size]
The explosion is a large one. The column of fire lances through the roof of the cantina. Bystanders flock to the area as they watch the building burning down to its very foundation. The small crowd shouts and screams, demanding the authorities. A woman’s scream fills the ear as she points towards the fire. Silence falls upon the crowd as they witness.
From the flames and the ashes, Boba Fett steps forth.
In his hand, was a charred red helmet.[/size]
