Avolon Bisel
Apr 1st, 2002, 05:12:39 AM
Avolon strummed his fingers on the bartop. What an utterly boring day. The 'droid at Avolon's side, the Astomech Max, expressed the same sentiments.
Four rather scummy looking men entered the bar, fully masked and covered. They carried loaded shotguns and blasters. Avolon spoke into his lapel comm.
"Guys, let me handle this, please. It's too boring around here," Avolon pleaded, seeing that the soldiers were moving for their weapons.
The many New Republic agents in the vicinity laughed and answered with acknowledgements. Avolon answered back to one perticular soldier.
"Of course I know what I'm doing. Oh yeah, I forgot, you guys have never seen this old rebel in action. Well, watch the Master boys. Maybe after this I'll finally get a damn promotion."
The four men walked up to the bar rather confidently. They pointed their four shotguns at Avolon's head, chest, and genitals.
"Alright, nerfhearder, hand over the moolah!" The leader commanded.
Avolon laughed. "Why?"
"We're the ones with the guns @!%hole. Don't ask questions!"
"Oh yeah, I'm unarmed," Avolon said, smiling broadly. "Max!!"
The Astromech popped open one of it's several secret compartments. Out flew a four gun holster, completely stocked with blasters. They were the ballistics kind, Avolon's favorite.
The veteran span, arms akimbo, the straps slid over his hands and stopped at the shoulders. The shots rang out from the shotguns as Avolon darted towards the end of the bar. He dove onto the bartop, twisting onto his back.
He pulled two guns from their holster. He started firing as he slid down the bar.
"This is too easy," Avolon mumbled to himself.
The four men dived apart, hiding under tables. One jumped the bar itself, crouching behind the counter.
Avolon let himself fall off the end of the bar, he turned mid-air and landed on his knees. He stood immediantly and walked steadily towards the man behind the bar.
The man had dropped his shotgun and taken up a blaster of his own. Avolon tredded on. The bullets flew past him as he deftly dodged them. Avolon holstered one blaster. He reached into his boot, revealing an extremely long hunting knife. He flung the knife at the gunman like an old pro, which he was. It hit him right above the gun hand. Avolon pulled out his second blaster again, shooting with twin guns. They pelted the man several times in the chest, killing him.
One of the braver gunman rose up, leveling his shotgun at Avolon. Bisel ducked instinctively, avoiding the shot. He holstered his two blasters and exchanged them for the Blast and Smash Rifle that layed in front of him, taped to the bottom of the bar. He rose back up and fired one of the grenade rounds. It lodged itself in the man's chest cavity before exploding in a brillaint flash of light.
The other two gunman had taken up postition behind their respective overturn tables. They shot blaster rounds over the top.
Avolon hopped the bartop, still holding his rifle. He shot one grenade over the tables, the men immediantly hopped over the furniture. The blast flung them through the air as they were already airborn. Avolon picked them both out of the air with normal rifle rounds.
All four layed dead on the ground, no civilain casualties. Avolon scoffed as he dropped his rifle.
"Waste of ammo."
The soldiers in the bar were stunned by the grizzly veteran.
"What did I tell you? Hail to the King," Avolon said without flinching. He'd done this a million times before.
Four rather scummy looking men entered the bar, fully masked and covered. They carried loaded shotguns and blasters. Avolon spoke into his lapel comm.
"Guys, let me handle this, please. It's too boring around here," Avolon pleaded, seeing that the soldiers were moving for their weapons.
The many New Republic agents in the vicinity laughed and answered with acknowledgements. Avolon answered back to one perticular soldier.
"Of course I know what I'm doing. Oh yeah, I forgot, you guys have never seen this old rebel in action. Well, watch the Master boys. Maybe after this I'll finally get a damn promotion."
The four men walked up to the bar rather confidently. They pointed their four shotguns at Avolon's head, chest, and genitals.
"Alright, nerfhearder, hand over the moolah!" The leader commanded.
Avolon laughed. "Why?"
"We're the ones with the guns @!%hole. Don't ask questions!"
"Oh yeah, I'm unarmed," Avolon said, smiling broadly. "Max!!"
The Astromech popped open one of it's several secret compartments. Out flew a four gun holster, completely stocked with blasters. They were the ballistics kind, Avolon's favorite.
The veteran span, arms akimbo, the straps slid over his hands and stopped at the shoulders. The shots rang out from the shotguns as Avolon darted towards the end of the bar. He dove onto the bartop, twisting onto his back.
He pulled two guns from their holster. He started firing as he slid down the bar.
"This is too easy," Avolon mumbled to himself.
The four men dived apart, hiding under tables. One jumped the bar itself, crouching behind the counter.
Avolon let himself fall off the end of the bar, he turned mid-air and landed on his knees. He stood immediantly and walked steadily towards the man behind the bar.
The man had dropped his shotgun and taken up a blaster of his own. Avolon tredded on. The bullets flew past him as he deftly dodged them. Avolon holstered one blaster. He reached into his boot, revealing an extremely long hunting knife. He flung the knife at the gunman like an old pro, which he was. It hit him right above the gun hand. Avolon pulled out his second blaster again, shooting with twin guns. They pelted the man several times in the chest, killing him.
One of the braver gunman rose up, leveling his shotgun at Avolon. Bisel ducked instinctively, avoiding the shot. He holstered his two blasters and exchanged them for the Blast and Smash Rifle that layed in front of him, taped to the bottom of the bar. He rose back up and fired one of the grenade rounds. It lodged itself in the man's chest cavity before exploding in a brillaint flash of light.
The other two gunman had taken up postition behind their respective overturn tables. They shot blaster rounds over the top.
Avolon hopped the bartop, still holding his rifle. He shot one grenade over the tables, the men immediantly hopped over the furniture. The blast flung them through the air as they were already airborn. Avolon picked them both out of the air with normal rifle rounds.
All four layed dead on the ground, no civilain casualties. Avolon scoffed as he dropped his rifle.
"Waste of ammo."
The soldiers in the bar were stunned by the grizzly veteran.
"What did I tell you? Hail to the King," Avolon said without flinching. He'd done this a million times before.