James Justice
Charting new Paths
He did it. He did it.
The stupid kid had broken the first rule of the galaxy: never mess with the man with the bigger gun. James didn't want any trouble, honestly he didn't. Part of him wanted to play it off, smile appologize, and carry on. If the kid had asked him to put it out, that was exactly what would have happened. Or even if he would have demanded. But he hadn't. He had been a dolt and a dunderhead, looking to fight with one of the best bar-room fighters in the outer rim. James had to teach the child other wise, after all he would let the kid live the next guy--probably wouldn't.
When the gang looked back at the massive cyborg that had come up behind them, the spacer made his move. Their foolery had opened a window six miles wide. And they would regret it. His fist came up in a heavy uppercut that crashed into the leader's jaw with all James' weight. As the youth went clattering back, they others were frozen in a moment of disbelief. James lurched to his right, his fist going in a powerful hammer-fist that landed on one's face with a loud crack, it took a dizzying step back. His compatriot on the other side lunged for James, who used their diminuative size to his advantage and easily planted the sole of his boot into its face. The sound of its crunching facial bones and howls of agony filled the car.
The leader had recovered in time to lung foward with a haymaker to James' ribs. It landed and pushed the man off balance, forcing him to wobble back. This was enough of an opening, two more charged in at once, their fists flying. But James recovered enough to counter. He blocked one as he side stepped the other's blow, tripping it onto its face. Spinning around the one he had blocked, James grabbed his head and boinked it on a pole, knocking the amphibian out cold.
James cast a glance back at Triter, 'Sorry mate,' before the fight resumed and another gangster launched themselves at the spacer.
[member="The Talatheen Amalgam"]
[member="Triter Zone"]
The stupid kid had broken the first rule of the galaxy: never mess with the man with the bigger gun. James didn't want any trouble, honestly he didn't. Part of him wanted to play it off, smile appologize, and carry on. If the kid had asked him to put it out, that was exactly what would have happened. Or even if he would have demanded. But he hadn't. He had been a dolt and a dunderhead, looking to fight with one of the best bar-room fighters in the outer rim. James had to teach the child other wise, after all he would let the kid live the next guy--probably wouldn't.
When the gang looked back at the massive cyborg that had come up behind them, the spacer made his move. Their foolery had opened a window six miles wide. And they would regret it. His fist came up in a heavy uppercut that crashed into the leader's jaw with all James' weight. As the youth went clattering back, they others were frozen in a moment of disbelief. James lurched to his right, his fist going in a powerful hammer-fist that landed on one's face with a loud crack, it took a dizzying step back. His compatriot on the other side lunged for James, who used their diminuative size to his advantage and easily planted the sole of his boot into its face. The sound of its crunching facial bones and howls of agony filled the car.
The leader had recovered in time to lung foward with a haymaker to James' ribs. It landed and pushed the man off balance, forcing him to wobble back. This was enough of an opening, two more charged in at once, their fists flying. But James recovered enough to counter. He blocked one as he side stepped the other's blow, tripping it onto its face. Spinning around the one he had blocked, James grabbed his head and boinked it on a pole, knocking the amphibian out cold.
James cast a glance back at Triter, 'Sorry mate,' before the fight resumed and another gangster launched themselves at the spacer.
[member="The Talatheen Amalgam"]
[member="Triter Zone"]