[48.00]

[psychoticracer]

Hn. So there are no spare Yellow Eco rounds, but extra weapons and ammunition on 07, for those who haven't figured it out. They're certainly NOT the caliber I'm used to, but they'll do.

[A ReDead screeches, terminated abruptly by gunfire. The bullet report is noticeably different from the type heard earlier from his comm. But then -

Click.

Comments

[nantokanare]

You only had one?

[psychoticracer]

Never - hnf - NEEDED more than one -

[Scuffle.]

[nantokanare]

[Laugh.]

Sounds like you got cocky, Mr. Erol.

<-- keywords

[psychoticracer]

[He chuckles back, despite the timbre of his breath betraying the fact he's fighting quite hard.]

It's what I DO, Akagi. You're - the same - AAH!

[Dead air.]

[electroniccrane]

[The zombies are more numerous closer to the breach, and the Major and Batou have stayed near it to thin their numbers before they can diffuse to the other decks. She can hear Erol slightly in the distance even as his voice comes over the comm, and then there's the unmistakable sound of a gun jamming.]

Shit.

[On one hand, it's Erol. On the other, not even Erol deserves to get dragged away to a fate worse than death.

She takes off toward the fray.]

// Come on. //

[electronichound]

[Batou grits his teeth, a surge of jealousy and anger rising in his chest. Anger at Erol for interrupting their activities and banter with his possible death, jealousy that he's going to have to share his time with her. Batou kills the emotional process with a thought. Now was time for action, not irrelevant things like his desires.]

// Yes, Major. //

[And he's covering behind her, crushing the occasional pirate, making sure nothing is on her back except for his watchful gaze.]

[psychoticracer]

[Erol snarls and takes out another hamstring with the spikes on his boot, but he's outmatched by things that can't bleed to death and can't be stopped by pain. More than a few have crushed kneecaps, splintered elbows, cracked ribs and knives through the eye, neck and heart, but it's damned hard to get to their spine and nearly impossible to saw through vertebrae with these shitty little knives... even if they WEREN'T hanging off his arms and legs and neck...]

Ghk - GET OFF ME!

[The Krimzon Guard's struggles were impressive; he twisted and fought and bit, but the ReDeads were impervious to pain, tougher than any human, didn't collapse when his spike or knife tore through a jugular or an eye. They just kept going, while his strength ebbed as his oxygen supply was constricted. He'd stopped them from getting a genuine sleeper hold, but there was still one wrapped around his neck, and his windpipe was constricted just enough to make a difference...]

[electroniccrane]

[There's Erol, recognizable partly from the red hair, but mostly from the frantic struggling, rapidly going down beneath a half-dozen of the zombies. She has no idea how long that one has had its arm around Erol's neck.

The Major clears her sidearm and drops the one strangling Erol with a headshot. Then a second--and the slide locks forward, the magazine empty. She tosses the useless weapon aside and continues her sprint right into the middle of the fight.]

Late response is late, ffff

[chorusangel]

[Panicking in 3... 2... 1...]

Erol! You alright? Please say you alright!

Oh, time zones.

[psychoticracer]

[A choked snarl, struggling]

GET OFF ME!!!

[Gunfire.]

/becomes nocturnal

[chorusangel]

EROL!

[Oh God, what's going on, what's happening, is he alright? He must be alright. He must be.]

It's the only way.

[psychoticracer]

[There's quite a bit more fighting, though the gunshots quickly fade to blades and crushing bone. Then Erol grunts as if jostled, followed by the over-loud report of a high-powered sniper hit.]

Uhf -

[Erol grunts as Batou punts him, and everything is drowned out for a moment by crazed gunfire. The elf grumbles as he rights himself and catches his breath.]

Yes, yes. Fine. No thanks to that - nhf - Mardamned cyborg...