The Next Dance

With a snort and a roll of the shoulders, Palmer stood, her face locked into a grimace. She had quite liked that dress after all. And as one stood, another fell. Went a snort and a twist of the arm, the batarian fell. If Nikolai was familiar at all with the usage of suppression nets he would recognize that the batarian's omnitool was just about to fire one off right at him.

Irrespective of that outcome, Palmer started to move.

Meanwhile, Henselt alerted security to his dilemma as he continued to move away.

Another step and then Nikolai's foot came down on the batarian's wrist with all the force of augmented muscle fiber and bone, pinning it to the floor. He bore down with his weight, grinding the heel of his genuine, handcrafted, leather shoes into the the assassin's arm.

"Palmer, the gun please?" His tone was clipped, professional. No lectures on the mysterious woman's apparent failure, no commentary on the nature of existence and their place in it, no showboating. Just four polite words, a twist of the shoe, and another wet snap as something else in the batarian's arm gave way.

Rules number two, better to be a dirty winner than a chivalrous looser.

Nope, no throwing around a loaded gun. She was going to shoot this batarian personally. Palmer walked up nice and quickly to the batarian lying there just in time to see for her to start glowing a dark blue. Oh fuck me Palmer did say as she went flying due to the wave of energy exploding out of the batarian. Nikolai would also find himself being sent flying by the same wave and then the batarian calmly stood. A quick examination of her hand and then she turned to move towards where Henselt had gone only to be greeted with a fist to her face. (Hooray for humans being useful for once thought Henselt.)

That punch quickly proved why exactly he was the leader of this planet although it was accompanied by the sounds of the bones in his wrist and hand breaking along with a sniff of pain. The assassin staggered back, her broken hand clutching her face as security now came up behind Henselt. The appearance of security along with the two humans clearly told her to get the fuck out and so in a very very very short span of time, one of the lovely features of the FMBLA was activated and smoke started to appear quite fast in the hallway.

And just like that, the assassin was gone in a dash past Palmer, a person a little bit too disorientated due to a grenade and a biotic blast to do much at the moment. Fortunately for Palmer, what security Henselt had managed to avoid stomping on her as they followed the would be assassin.

Nikolai had just enough time to reflect upon rule number three of combat before the floor went flying out from beneath his feet and his back met the hallway wall.

Never underestimate a downed opponent. Cornered rats fight the fiercest.

Still it wasn't a complete loss. Henselt was alive, one of the Abyss's major powers would endure with one of it's more influential leaders in his debt. That was worth a scuffed pair of shoes and a few relatively minor injuries. Speaking of which, he had another moment of clarity before the field dissipated: there were going to be some lovely bruises waiting for him in the morning.

And then he was falling, adding a few nice marks on his hands and knees as he landed. A moment to catch his his breath and then the businessman picked himself up, brushed off his tuxedo, waited for a squad of guards to pound down the hall, and went to check on the woman in the now tattered green dress.

"Ms. Palmer?" He politely extended a hand. His expression mild, as if they weren't surrounded by the bustle of medics, advisers, and additional security personnel arriving on the scene.

It was after a few seconds and a very audible groan that Palmer took the hand in a successful effort to stand. Another groan and then she stretched out her body bit by bit. Sleeping was going to a terrible experience for a few days. Can I just say owwwww.

She rolled her head in a circle and sniffed as Henselt approached the pair, a quick form cast now present around his right arm. Yeah, going to need a lot of help with this one.

Henselt was then there, gratitude quite clear on his face, Come find me later when you both feel better. And with that said he was off, a veritable horde of security and doctor type people around him.

Lyra rubbed her eyes, watching as Henselt quite quickly vanished, Well, that was fun.

"There are a lot of words to describe that experience. Fun probably isn't one of them." Nikolai said dryly as he helped Palmer to her feet. A tilt of his neck and a sound akin to industrial grade bubble wrap popping. The scarred man grimaced and rolled his shoulders. Oh yeah, that was going to ache tonight.

"Do you think she made it out?" He said quietly as he watched the batarian vanish behind a wall of armed guards.

I rate those chances to be high. She groaned, Fatam, be at the ship yeah. A glance over at Aleksanders, Look, it would great if you came along with me. Others are going to want to hear about what you say here and they will hear it. Considered yourself invited to my ship for the next few days.

Nikolai glanced over at the far shorter woman then back up at the ceiling, since returned to its normal, solid state in his eyes. Gazing as if he could see the orbiting ships and the stars themselves in their celestial orbits. For a moment, there was a curious sense of vertigo. This was it, they were over the precipice and going down, down, down. Events had been set into motion. The death of the Chand. What transpired here tonight. They were in free fall, free fall down the rabbit hole, and God only knew what they wold look like at the bottom.

He nodded. "Looking forward to it."

Funnily enough, he actually wasn't lying.


FIN