First Reply These Four Walls

[Amea Virou]

Another day, another job. The buzz and burn of neon lights spread a red-pink glow across a sizable balcony. It’s metallic planters and cushioned furniture blended into the walls that reached even further towards the sky, several dozen floors above. From below the sound of a busy main road could just barely be heard. Squeals of transports, crashes of crates, but no people. They were there, they could barely be seen, but they were not heard or felt.

A strong wind carried Amea’s hair back and forth as she slowly began to turn around towards the mercenaries pouring in from the door she had stormed out of. Each breath that passed between her lips felt like a blessing for her lungs but did very little for her nerves. It was over then, this was it. Her driver should have been here by now but they were nowhere to be seen. This was the time, this was the exact place that they had agreed upon. No alarms had been tripped, yet the mercenaries had been hot on her tail from the moment that Amea had picked the item up.

So, it was a set up then? It wasn't unheard of. Freelancers getting set up in a game where rivals measure their sticks between one another. A long sigh parted Amea’s lips as she began to consider her exits. Needless to say, the mercs that took up the balcony door and pointed their blasters at her were blocking the most convenient one.

But there was another exit somewhere around here, there always was.

There was always another exit.

Always.

 

[Belfry of Tund]

Amea Virou

Something happened way out in the back.

A moment of silence.

Then? Absolute chaos breaking out. It started with the burst of a scatter-gun, followed by maniacal laughter and glass shattering. It wasn't immediately clear what that glass shatter was all about. Until? Until they heard the scream that sloooowly faded out. Until the body had disappeared into the deep amber crevices of Nar Shaddaa high-rise.

The mercenaries got nervous, because their target was right in front of them.

They had Amea dead to rights.

Before they could decide what to do? The decision was already made for them. In the shape of a grimy man. Scatter gun in hand, already stepping in between them. The gun going roar. Two were already down, before they realized what hit them.

There was nothing gracious about the way Archibald Sult fought. It was all dirty, all bloody and screams. At one point? Amea might have realized he bit someone's ear off. Well, hopefully she hadn't noticed that. Because right now was her chance to either get out dodge or take the opportunity to hit the rest of the mercenaries.

Either way.

Archibald was currently happy.

It wouldn't last. Never did.

 

[Amea Virou]

Belfry of Tund

That silence said very little. Amea’s hands remained raised before her as the mercenaries seemed to remain by the door. Waiting, pointing their guns at her. Some part of her hated it, another figured it bought her time. As the sound of gunfire called from behind them they all twitched to look, even Amea. Through the windows by the staircase she could see the muzzle flashes and the occasional silhouette of a man on a mission.

Amea had no backup beyond the driver. This was not part of what she had been told about her task. Retrieve the crystal, escape, report back. It was her, a bunch of overly complicated traps and freedom. The recruiter had no idea who she was or what she could do. The more Amea thought about it the more she began to spin the weave of paranoia.

The men and women by the door turned around to face the man and his scattergun, and in that very moment she made a break for it. One of the mercs tried to shoot at her in the confusion but quickly found themselves at the receiving end of the newcomer’s own barrel. Making for the window Amea raised her hand to shatter it before she jumped through.

Tiny cuts stung as they carved their paths across her skin. The landing was rough, riddled in corpses and blood. Stumbling to her feet and falling to the floor Amea let out a curse as she struggled to get a grip against the wet floor.

This kyber crystal? It wasn’t going back to the mission provider anymore. The deal had changed and this setup was no coincidence. The man with the shotgun was either a fool, same as Amea, or a part of security. Either way Amea was not particularly keen on finding out.

 

[Belfry of Tund]

Amea Virou

Amea's impromptu decision was the right one.

Correct, because Archibald wasn't here to rescue her.

Not that anyone who knew Archie would have thought that anyway. No, he was here for her. Or more importantly to take that crystal. It was all coincidence of course. He wasn't affiliated with her recruiter. Not with these mercenaries. Instead Archibald had been planning to steal it himself. Just to watch as someone else suddenly snatched it right from under him.

Feth that, aye?

His scatter-rifle was already tracking her progress through the air. Then a growl. Take her out now? And the crystal might be smashed to pieces. It was too fragile for this chit.

In the confusion he dropped a 'nade on the ground. Then hauled ass back into the building. Behind him? An explosion that took care of the merc problem. It was a mess out there. Body parts, groaning and screaming men. Usually Archibald would at least spare a look. Enjoy his handiwork. Sadly that wasn't an option right now.

Sult didn't talk- he was in business mode.

Killing mode.

A knife already dropped from his sleeve into his hand. Between two heart beats he threw it at the retreating shape of Amea. Leg-height. Make her trip and then see what else.

That was the plan anyway.

 

[Amea Virou]

Belfry of Tund

The soles of Amea’s boots squealed as she clawed herself out of the pool of blood and back onto her feet and set off into a sprint that took her further into the office building. For each step she took she left behind an extensive trail of bloodied footprints, with each gust of wind that brushed against her stomach and chest she could feel the blood-soaked fabric of her tank top and pants cling to her side. How much of it was hers and how much of it had come from a mixture of armed mercenaries was up for debate. A debate that would have to wait.

With a cramped grip around the kyber crystal, an irregular breathing pattern and a hell of a lot of blood the situation was looking a lot more grim than it was. It was bad, that much was certain, but it wasn’t hopeless. The parameters had changed, the mission was forfeit. No doubt the plan had never been for Amea to succeed in the first place. As she ran it was the only reason she could think of. It was meant to ensure they were secure enough, a penetration test.

Only it failed. They hadn’t counted on that.

As Amea ran into the building she came across the atrium in which the mercenaries had picked up on her tail. Moonlight seemed to trickle down a precious few beams from a skylight several floors up, a steady stream of water drops poured down the middle from the windows the mercenaries had used to rappel down. For a second Amea considered using them for herself. It was too dangerous, too much of a sitting duck. Besides that the ropes were inaccessible from where she was. It’d take a jump and a hefty dose of luck to reach it. No, it was too risky.

From behind she heard the singing hiss of a knife mid-flight. Call it dumb instinct, call it Amea being out of her element, but she stopped and she turned around. A sharp pain pierced against her hip right above her thigh. The impact caused her to stumble over backwards, a pained yelp parting her lips as her breath was knocked out of her in sheer surprise. Her back found the ground again and yet before she could think on it Amea had already pulled the knife out again.

She pushed against the pain, pushed against her better judgment. Then again, better judgment would have never gotten her this far in the first place. Back on her feet Amea pulled her gun from its holster and pointed it towards her assailant to fire three shots in Archibald's general direction.

 

[Belfry of Tund]

Amea Virou

Sult didn't stop running once the knife flew out of his hands.

Never let up.

Keep it coming. That was the way to win any battle. Then again, it also meant that when Amea's gun rose up? He was far too close for comfort. It was sheer tenacity that made him shift in that split-second. Her first shot burned straight through the edge of his shoulder. Took a nice chunk of meat with it, but Archibald was too far gone to realize that.

His momentum carried him forward.

Unless Amea did something? He'd barrel straight into her, intent to tackle her down to the ground, where guns wouldn't matter anymore. The hot sizzle and burning smell of his flesh was all around them.

Still Archibald didn't care.

Didn't care that he was screaming in pain either.

Too busy feeding Amea his fist.

 

[Amea Virou]

There was a collision. Amea fell to the floor and everything went white for a second. Air grew more difficult to come by, the man’s hand grasping at her throat as one punch after the other began to pummel against the side of her head during the confusion. It was like getting hit by a train engine, repeatedly.

With parts of her remaining energy Amea thrust the knife she had pulled from her leg into the side of the man’s upper arm to get him off of her. Pushing against the current of the force she further distanced herself before turning around on her stomach to push back onto her feet and into a stumble. Her knees didn’t seem to want to carry her and she went shoulder-first into a cubicle.

And yet as it were with anything that involved fight or flight her determination to run overcame her better sensibilities yet again. She set off, the wound to her hip burning, the side of her head pulsating with pain as blood ran down her nose and leg to intermingle with the blood of those that had fallen before her.

With her hand extended towards her gun she pulled it into her hand and holstered it to continue running. Or perhaps, it was more fair to say limp at a brisk pace. This time she was ready for him if he tried to attack her again. She focused on her senses to see what they told her.

Belfry of Tund

 

[Belfry of Tund]

Amea Virou

You get in a rhythm at this point.

Knuckles impacting tender flesh. The hard pound. Over and over as everything else fades to zero. Knuckles groan, teeth cut into skin, but the pain isn't there anymore. It's patiently waiting in the waiting room for its turn. It wouldn't come any time soon. Not as long as Archie had anything to say about it at least.

The blood thumped between his ears.

There was something brilliant about this. The systematic destruction of someone. That is why Archibald didn't see the knife coming. Embedded hard in his arm, causing him to gasp and blink.

That pause was what Amea needed to get out. Stumbled run. A growl there as his prey was escaping him. Pushing himself up. Knife pulled out and Archibald cursed at the flare of burning hot pain. His blood now. That wasn't the only pain. His fists hurt from using her face like a punching bag. It was all encouragement to keep going.

Scatter rifle came up from over his shoulder.

That's what Amea would feel- the piercing screech and warning of a dozen sharp pellets coming for her legs.

 

[Amea Virou]

Belfry of Tund

Hard to deflect, flew at a higher speed, but far more primitive. Slugs weren’t on Amea’s list of weapons she wanted to use. They were loud and about twice as likely to puncture the ever delicate veil between a viewport and the void of space. She needed only her fists, most of the time. Or so she told herself and this situation was no different.

As the loud bang echoed down the empty atrium Amea threw herself to the side to avoid the shot. The pellets collided with a nearby wall, sending dust spreading around them. There was no time to think, Amea made a break for a staircase and began to ascend, set on finding a way out. With the pull of her hand she swept a desk to cover the top before she pushed on further into the building.

In one part to hide, in the other to recover. She needed to assess the situation, get a clearer view of what was up. It would be hard given the blood trail, but she would at the very least be able to find shelter, at least momentarily.

 

[Belfry of Tund]

Amea Virou

A running target was a dumb target.

Nothing on their mind besides the path forward.

Archibald was relaxed now. In control again. On the hunt. This was exactly how it ought to be and no different. He growled softly as she dodged his pellets, before tripping up the staircase. "Ya can run... but ya can't geeeet awaaaaay." His gruff sing-song voice echoed. Following her and mocking her in equal terms as he took up the stairs.

Above him a noise as she tried to bar his path with the table.

Scatter-rifle went ROAR again.

Biting it in half.

Wooden splinters dashing everywhere, cutting his arms and face, but that was okay. The trail of blood was easy to follow. "Why dontcha fight, eh? Dun be such a liiiil runner. Is p dumb, tiring yaself out so much."

Once he got a glimpse of her?

Arch would throw a piece of the wooden chunk towards her face. Full of splinters.

Payback.

 

[Amea Virou]

Belfry of Tund

Back against a corkboard wall to a cubicle, hands rushing to tear the tank top that clung to her torso. She tore it off of her and exposed the second layer below. The sound of ripped cloth was overshadowed by the sound of gunshots roaring into the open office space. Amea’s hand circled around her leg to tie a blue knot around the wound in her leg with a tight wrap around her thigh.

A few deep, quiet breaths steadied her.

And then she pushed out into the open. A piece of wood found her head with a clunk. The left side of her head began to pulse with pain, her feet entered a stumble, but she pushed forward. Could she fight? Yes. Did it seem like a sound idea? No.

There was one option.

A bad option, but her only choice.

Amea made for the railing. Jumped on top of it, and jumped for one of the merc’s grappling line. With a firm hold she swung for the other side, like a fish stuck on a line.

 

[Belfry of Tund]

This was starting to get annoying.

Lady wasn't human.

No, instead she was some kind of gorram chimpanzee bouncing from here to there, constantly moving. Archibald could have beaten her to pulp half a dozen times already. If he could get his hands on her. She was always just a step too quick. Just a bit out of reach, before he could finish her off. Archibald pursued ... and then she did something.

Which hella confused him.

The moment her hands grabbed the line?

Archibald took aim- and the shotgun roared, pallets flying straight to cut through the line with her still swinging off it. Only then did Archibald ran himself, grabbing for one of the other ones.

This wasn't gonna be pleasant for Amea Virou presumably.

 

[Amea Virou]

Belfry of Tund

He’d shoot the line. Of course he would shoot the line, Amea would have shot the line. As her hands wrapped around that tight rope she understood the situation with just enough clarity to know that she was an idiot. A cornered idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. The shots that she had expected to roar into the open atrium roared louder than she expected, the line that had been ever so taut in her grip loosening as she began to fall.

Part one of the plan, do this.

Part two, land.

Her shoulder caught her weight and she rolled over to get back on her feet. As the man came after her she hid behind cover to count the seconds she had. If he came after her he would by all likelihood use one of the other lines, right? By the sound of it, yes. Perfect.

Amea poked out from around the corner and extended her hand towards the line to give it a violent tug in the hopes of causing the man to lose his grip and plummet towards the ground. With luck, part three wouldn’t be all too painful. Though knowing her work history…

Yeah, no, it would definitely not be painless.

 

[Belfry of Tund]

Amea Virou

When your entire strategy revolves around shooting the line.

Then following by jumping on a line yourself.

Well, you come to expect certain things. Like the concept that the other party might recover fast and try to kark with your line too. The sad part was that there was very little here that Archibald could do about it. That was the weak point about a line swing. You really didn't have a lot of control beyond how hard you were gonna land on your face.

So Arch opted not to give a kark.

Instead? The moment Amea tried to feth with his line? One arm already swung up with the scatter-rifle. Already roaring once more. The previous times she had the luxury of dodging around.

Now she was stuck like a sitting duck to feth him.

Well, Archibald could kark her right back.

Either way- he tried to manage the landing as Amea disrupted his swing, but still crashed into a nearby pillar. Something crunched there as his nose gave away, cracking and splurting blood down. He could taste the copper. Could see the light show in front of his eyes. It was difficult to quickly recover from something like that, but somehow Archibald rose up anyway.

Screaming like a maniac, face bloody, eyes darting madly to chase after Amea once more.

 

[Amea Virou]

Belfry of Tund

There was no denying that Amea had grown real goddamn tired of that scatter-rifle already. It fired in her direction and she ducked for cover with a narrow dodge. The man continued his descent and Amea scrapped to get back on her feet, her boots scraping against the floor struggling to get a grip before she was up and running again.

Part three, disarm him already.

Followed, ideally, by part four. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.

The man might have expected her to keep running, but for once he’d find quite the opposite. Utilizing the moment in which he was disoriented to the best of her ability she made a break straight towards him. Her foot kicked at the barrel to strike it out of his hand before she tried to take him out with a quick follow up to his already broken nose.

All the while, part four was frantically taking shape in the woman’s mind.

 

[Belfry of Tund]

Amea Virou

Sadly for Amea Archibald was made of something inhuman.

Or maybe it was the narcotics that ran through his veins. Making the pain a dull thunk at the back of his head. There, but currently not part of the equation whatsoever. He raised his arms up, scatter-rifle ready to blast her, but Amea was too fast. Already jerking the weapon to the side. Archie had only two options here.

Either jerk it back to shoot her, but absorb the blow to his head... or let the rifle go.

A voice in his head was calm- you won't be able to move, if she blasts ya in the nose again. Easy decision to make then. The gun went scattering to the ground and away. Where it went off again. This time in the other direction, taking out some expensive furniture. Not that that was to either of their concerns however.

He already ducked under her punch- causing him to get even closer to her. At this distance, so intimate, she would get the full force of his whalm.

The smell of cheap cologne, alcohol, and sweat.

This close he snapped a punch straight in the solar plexus, following it up with a hook up her jaw.

 

[Amea Virou]

Blunt pain in her stomach, she latched onto his hand as it tried to strike at her jaw. With a tug she threw him to the ground, but the man seemed to recover no matter what she did. Using his weight against him did not work, trying to literally kick him in the ass did even less. It was like a machine that just kept rolling and for a solid second she was stuck asking herself if that was what this thing was.

Because he was not a man, much less something human.

Maybe it wasn’t even a ‘he’ to begin with.

Amea stepped back from the man, her fists at the ready for his attack. Mind on the scatter-rifle to throw it further away if he tried to reach for it.

Belfry of Tund