Dark figures gathered around the black void. Through the pictures in the void, it was clear that things were not going according to plan. But, it seemed, their paranoia-induced back-ups were in fact warranted. Nyx’tar’tal hovered above the void, his blazing eyes shut in concentration. Other Drakkuns formed the circle around him, their limbs extending and retracting, sending dark waves of power towards the hovering Drakkun. His fanged mouth opened, speaking words repeated through mindspeak by the Lacunian portrayed in the void.
“I am Xax-Flekk Tsant Kovat Elimark. I am here by the order of the Lacunian council. The ZarachOn you killed did not have a bounty on his head. For this, I must kill you, money-driven scum.”
Leonn, his battle armor battered and scratched, looked up with dismay. “Lacunian, my quarrel is not with you. If you did not receive notice of the bounty, it is not my fault. Kindly stand aside so I may return to my home station and collect my bounty.”
Leonn’s words fell on deaf ears, as the Lacunian’s advance did not slow. The rotating laser cannon spat rays of swirling death, and only due to distance did they not instantly obliterate him. Leonn responded in kind, firing bursts of EMP from his shoulder mounted cannons. Xax-Flekk dodged aside with fluid grace, and paused to draw a bead on his target. In this second, Leonn let loose a barrage from the concealed pistol he had palmed. The tiny darts from the automatic sidearm ripped through space at eighty percent of light speed, and at the close ranges they had entered, the bullets tore through their intended target, the vortex laser cannon. The cores of the tiny bullets contained a tightly packed carbon matrix known as Cubane, which released its potential energy in a compact explosion.
Pieces of the Lacunian’s weapon flew in every direction, propelled by the force of the explosion through space, until the light gravity of the moon drew most of them to the ground. The Lacunian, righteous fury almost radiating off him, drew two staves. Each staff projected an energy blade at either end.
Leonn raised his empty hand to grab another pistol, but reconsidered as the Lacunian was approaching at an alarming rate. His mind raced over his options: the force staff projector in his glove, the plasma sword, whose hilt was resting at his belt, or the monomolecular-edged katanas sheathed on his back. Choosing the plasma weapon for combat against the Lacunian’s phase blades, he drew it and extended the force-contained blade of plasma.
The melee started off evenly, with the Lacunian only using his upper true-arms, wielding one phase blade. Leonn matched blow for blow, the contacts of the energy weapons flaring brightly. Leonn brought his blade down the center after an overextending attack by the Lacunian, hoping to slice the phase blade in half, thus disabling it. Xax, almost as if predicting his action, split the weapon down the center with the flick of a switch and brought the now separated blades around in a pincer attack.
Leonn activated the force staff at the last moment, deflecting the left attack as the plasma sword stayed the advance of the rightmost weapon. Binding the phase blades aside, Leonn went for an upstroke with the blade, trying to gut the Lacunian with white-hot plasma. His attack was easily deflected with the second phase-staff, held in the hand-like feet of the Lacunian’s lower limbs. Now greatly out-equipped, Leonn fought with intense vigor to hold of the flurry of blades. Catching all three weapons in a twist of the staff, he launched himself backwards, leaving a flashgrenade in his wake.
Taking his spare seconds to rally his wits, Leonn glanced around to see GrK engaged in equally mortal combat with the Lacunian’s symbiote, trying to swat down the quick-moving reptilian ornithine with six plasma blades, but to no avail, as the nimble bird-like creature dodged GrK’s every move. His sword hand reached down to his belt, feeling for any remaining grenades.
Xax, after recovering his phase blades, launched himself down to the moon at Leonn. The Lacunian’s combat reflexes allowed him to destroy the three grenades that were lobbed his way. As he further approached, he saw Leonn raise the sword-less hilt of his plasma blade, aiming the butt of it at Xax.
Leonn, cursing at the waste of the grenades, resorted to his backup plan. His fingers ran down the hilt of his plasma sword, finding the release switch. The sword spat its plasma energy out of the butt, once, twice, three times. Each white-hot bolt of plasma coursed through the air at Xax, forcing the Lacunian to defend himself with his phase blades, in an explosive energy contact. The flashes blinded both fighters for a second, and when his vision cleared up, Leonn saw the debris of a destroyed phase blade, drifting behind the charging Lacunian.
Casting his empty blade aside and retracting the force staff, Leonn reached over his back and drew the two katanas. A flash of pain flared in his mind as he remembered the fateful day once again. The contacts between his left arm and his mechanical left hand burned, as did the thin scar up the left side of his face. Anger burned in his mind.
The Lacunian, now in melee range, lifted his remaining phase blade and brought it around in an arc, only to have it cut into several pieces. Angered, the Lacunian turned his back in a quick movement. Leonn saw this as a sign of retreat and pressed forward, remembering too late about the spiked-ball tail. It swung around with incredible speed, slamming into Leonn’s right side. The blow sent him reeling, but before he was flung down to the planet, his left blade snaked out and made a small incision.
The Lacunian fired his jets to turn, then attempted to adjust, only to find his suit unresponsive to his nerve-movement commands. Damage control told him the neurocenter of the suit was cut.
“Well, it appears you win, scum!” the Lacunian mind-shouted as he jetted away, to a safe enough distance to activate his rift drive. The Nyan symboite followed closely behind, much to the rage of GrK.
Leonn, favoring his right side, jetted over to GrK. GrK had several holes in his armor where the blade on the bird-like Nyan’s pseudobeak had punctured him.
“Let us go home now, Leonn,” GrK gasped out.
Leonn, engrossed in thought, looked up for a second. “I don’t know my home, GrK. And I probably never will.”
Nyx’tar’tal looked up, as the void in front of him dissipated. Anger crossed his dark features. “This was not according to plan, brethren. It seems we must salvage of this what we can. If we cannot kill Leonn, we must find another way to remove him.”