[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] [member="Mongo Booshi Mella"]
Anoobas, five of them. Five was a problematic number. The...intractable invulnerability she'd used to break the akk dog's neck was something she could employ in pulses or at length -- it was far and away her specialty. But two problems presented themselves. The first was that the anoobas didn't seem all that keen on charging with neck-breaking momentum. The second was that if she tanked them out, she'd be that much less when the final rounds came along.
Two anoobas lunged at her from ten and two o'clock. The Tenloss Warrior Helm contained, among other things, motion sensors, so when the six o'clock anooba joined in, she was at least modestly forewarned. Modestly being a matter of seconds, and not many of them.
She inhaled, deep in her gut. Long-ingrained rhythms fit her moves to fractions of her exhalation, a quarter of a breath each. Four actions per breath.
One. A long fast step forward and to the right. One leaping anooba glanced off her left shoulder, its claws scraping uselessly on the masterforged phrik. Another slammed into the vibroblade and spun Ashin around to the right. The third, its jump suddenly too short, skidded into her armored heels.
Two. Roll right and break the fall by landing on the injured anooba, pointy-phrik-elbow-first. Note the two anoobas preparing to jump, and -- on motion sensor -- another one closing in.
Three. Spin blade to backhand grip, jam it up and out. Straight into one anooba's throat, while her elbow met the other's horned nose. Its momentum arrested, but rolled her.
Four. Use that roll to regain her feet, spinning up and to the right. On the way, grab the massive forehorn of the anooba she'd just elbowed, and use the Force -- suddenly, viciously, a pulse that would tell any Forcer in the room that this was the kind of old Master who'd made their teachers' teachers into what they were. She stretched out the final exhalation with a kiai that punctuated the anooba's life.
As she swung it by its horn and turned a two-hundred-pound predator into Improvised Weapon, Melee.
That made two knifed, two bludgeoned with some finality. The fifth one hit her bad knee like a hyper-v round, and the next few seconds were a blur of impact -- floor, elbows, knees, the phrik spikes bashing away at the animal's head and neck. In a little bit of pain, you could say, she regained her feet and limped back to the center of the arena. The vibroblade flicked back to her hand.
"Next."
