Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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CQB, The basics

[member="Macoda Haberon"]

When he wrapped his arms she roared again.

"Hiyaah!"

She made sure to get her arms inside his, and pushed out, trying to break his grip.

One booted foot slammed down towards the instep of his foot, where his shin connected to the top of his foot. She twisted her boot hard, trying to add pain into the equation.

At the same time her head came back, braids of dirty brown hair flying like a wreath of snakes, and then slammed forwards. A sickening head butt was delivered, aimed right for his nose.
 
Her head butt came only to his collar bone, he was a giant after all. However through the hatred he did manage to feel her stomp on his foot. His teeth gritted in pain but it only enraged him further. Abandoning all forms of reasoning, his kinder self had all but disappeared and was replaced by an unrecognizable beast.

The captain managed to slither out from his bear grip and spring away, only to be pursued by several hard swings from his axes. Mac was ever pressing, always on the offensive as opposed to his calmer self. At this point he was aiming to kill. Nothing but blood could sedate him now. Blood or defeat.

[member="Eliza Raxis"]
 
[member="Macoda Haberon"]

As she wriggled away she was still watching him. When both axes swung in she ducked, and twisted her back foot, pushing power through her hip. All of it condensed on the point of her fist as she jabbed low, into his gut.

Then she shifted her hips, twisting her other foot to punch from the opposite side. Over and over she launched a series of jabs in quick succession. She was rabid herself, aiming to pummel his guts until he fell to the deck. Or until he managed to swing lower, which might be a problem.

But she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.
 
Mac's breath had become ragged like a depraved beast but he wasn't slowing down. Her quick jabs into his stomach and bent him over a little bit and took the breath out of him again. Yet he reared up and with another ear splitting roar, he slammed both of his axes down. His attacks were instinctive and impulsive, with no care about his safety or the safety of who he was fighting. Mac wasn't sure who he was fighting anymore. Everything was reduced to a red flurry that clouded his mind. He only had one goal: surviving. And surviving meant victory.

[member="Eliza Raxis"]
 
[member="Macoda Haberon"]

He still persisted.

As his axes came down again she moved back, sending out a snap kick to his chest. One of them caught he arm and sliced a small gouge, spraying blood as the sharp edge split the leather gauntlet she was wearing. It was still on, but she was getting concerned now. Macoda was very much lost in his rage.

She stepped back, and then back again, shuffling towards the cargo crates...
 
Ellie's kick to his chest forced him to stumble back a couple steps. This fight was beginning to take its toll on Mac's body, although his mind was still hellbent. He charged at the captain who was bleeding and retreating back to the crates. Although this time the charge was slower. Mac was heavily limping on the foot that Ellie stomped on although it did not deter him, only provided a minor inconvenience. His prey would not escape him. He was truly lost now.

[member="Eliza Raxis"]
 
[member="Macoda Haberon"]

"Come on Mac! Just a little closer!"

As he surged towards her she was still shuffling back. She knew two things had to happen. She had to knock his clock clean off, and she had to get a tourniquet around her wound. Bleeding out was a major cause of death in battle, and the pools of blood on the floor indicated she'd lost more than her fair share now.

With her vision swimming she lured him in some more, and then struck.

The Woman turned, and sprinted half a meter to a crate, right up the side, and then performed a backflip. As she flipped she managed to grab a handhold on a cargo claw, sliding through the air with both feet outstretched. The momentum of her leap carried her along the trajectory, the claw sliding her down a steel cable.

Her boots were lined up right for his head.

Was it a KO?
 
The timing was just right. In a last ditch effort, the captain managed to swing on the crate claw and slam into Mac's head. Knocking him off his feet and onto his back. The huge blow knocked Mac out and stopped his rampage. Unconscious, Mac's brathing began to slow down and regulate itself. His heart rate slowed down to a regular beat. Mac's axes laid in his open hands. It seems like this little spat erupted into something much more dangerous. Was this more than what the captain had bargained for? Was this the learning experience that Ellie had wanted? Would Mac wake up in chains or would Ellie understand what had happened? These were all questions that Mac would have been asking himself if he was conscious. But now all he has to look forward to is a limp and a massive headache.
[member="Eliza Raxis"]
 
[member="Macoda Haberon"]

He was finally down.

Ellie dropped off the Claw into a crouch. She was now very low on blood. The entire deck was smeared with sticky crimson ichor. She was fixated on one thing.

Tourniquet

Bandage

She managed to make her way, limping to the aid bag on the wall. When she reached it she collapsed, slumping against the wall with her back to the bulkhead. With her teeth and good arm she tore open the bandage and began to pack her wound, stuffing it full of gauze. It was tight enough to hold the blood which was good.

Then she tied off her tourniquet, tightening it until it was bruising her skin. It was deliberate, three inches above the wound. It would cut off the blood flow.

There wasn't much left to do now. She sat there and watched Mac on the floor. If she had more energy she would have hit him with a revival syringe, to wake him up. As it was she was beginning to lose her edge. Her adrenaline was going down and as the vessel careened through hyperspace, she fell asleep, body finally shutting down....
 
Mac awoke with a scream, screaming in surprise at his consciousness. He sat on the cold floor of the storage space, and a painful headache gradually became apparent. Mac winced and massaged his temple, wondering what had happened. He stood himself up with a grunt, dazed and confused, heavily leaning on one of the crates nearby. His vision slowly began to focus and his head was pounding. He slowly gazed down at the trail of blood leading up the wall. Mac didn't know how long he had been out.

Bloody hell, what happened?

Everything took a while to register. He looked around at his surroundings, trying to piece together the crime scene.

What's the last thing I remember? I remember beating Ellie initially.....dropping my axes....

Mac frowned, this wasn't making any sense. He racked his mind, searching desperately for answers. Then, it finally clicked and an expression of dread dawned up his face.

"KARKING HELL!!"

Mac's voice was panicked. He knew what had happened and it snapped him out of his daze.

I had only gone berserk once, maybe twice in my whole life? Why did it happen now? Wait.... what happened to....

"ELLIE?! YOU THERE?!"

Mac called out desperately, he didn't know what had happened to her and he was afraid to find out. Mac whipped his head around frantically, until he focused on the trail of blood on the floor of the storage area. He followed the trail and leaped over a stack of crates to find the captain passed out in a pool of her blood, her head slumping to the side.

No no no

Horrified at what he had done, Mac scooped her up in his arms and limped heavily out of the expansive storage area. His eyes started to water, whether it was from Ellie's state or his throbbing headache he couldn't tell. Probably a little of both. He called out for help as he went down a corridor, but then he realized that she had left most if not all the crew to enjoy their last raiding victory.

"SOMEONE HELP!"

After what seemed like an eternity of limping down halls, a soothing electronic voice called out from one of the rooms.

"Bring her in sir"

What luck, Mac didn't even know they had a medical droid on the frigate. He supposed it would be handy in their line of work but he never actually saw it, he didn't have too much experience with droids to begin with. Mac walked into a small white sterilized room, it was brightly lit with a single table centered in the room which Mac laid Ellie down on. The medical supplies were basic but it was the only thing Mac could hope on.

"Doc she needs help immeadiately. Her arm is....I...."

"I understand. I need no explanation. Everything will be alright"

Of course that's what you are programmed to say

Despite his bitterness at the droid's curtness, Mac was feeling slightly better now, not physically better, he still had a raging headache and his foot hurt terribly, but he wasn't concerned about that now. The medical droid turned his back on Mac and began sterilizing and stitching up Ellie. Mac limped outside, the automatic doors closing behind him. He collapsed in one of the chairs that lined the hall buried his face in his palm. He didn't want to think about anything.

[member="Eliza Raxis"]
 

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