Asgardried, Guy's Ship
Guy: I see.
*He begins dialing commands*
Guy: *into comm to Asgardried/Heimdall* I'm going to use the separated body of my ship as a decoy. It should beat us to the base by about forty-eight seconds. It will be ninety percent depowered when it enters the area and will be broadcasting a mayday alert. The Blades will hopefully think it's a damaged scout ship arriving back at base with unfortunate timing. We can slip in under its shadow and hope they fire at the bigger target. The Blades should not be present in large numbers, so they will probably not keep firing at a ship that doesn't fire back and isn't running away. When we leave, please use slipstream, or better yet a short hyper jump and then slipstream. They will certainly be tracking hyperspace and warp routes.
*K'Warra is holding a makeshift knife and slicing a deep cut into his arm. Blood gushes out as a major blood vessel is opened*
Guy: *off comm* What are you doing now?
K'Warra: As I said... preparing. *He moves his arm in a wide circle, painting the ship's floor slick with blood*
Guy: Is that... wise?
K'Warra: The alternative is to cut off a limb, and let me tell you, Seer, magic is far more difficult to form after the loss of even a pinky finger than after the loss of blood. Surely you know this.
*Guy opened his mouth to ask Yes, I know this, but why exactly are you feeling the need to bathe my ship in your own blood, but thought better of it, and went back to checking his ship's systems for the battle approaching in less than two minutes.*
*The woman on the bike lifts off, protected behind her shield, and streaks off into the distance with Aidan, quickly beyond the reach of the landing platform*
Aren: *now standing confidently* Let her go. I can track her.
*Shane rises. His swords and eyes burn brightly. He looks taken aback by the change in Aren's appearance. There is almost a look of respect on his face*
Shane: *bowing slightly* The Lady Robyn. Perhaps I did not truly believe it. Years, it has been...
*Aren does not move. Her single blade burns as brightly as the fire around Shane's. A few more seconds pass, then in a blink of an eye Shane charges her, his swords twin blurs of flame, but Aren's blade moves even faster, parrying and striking. The two twirl in huge circles in a deadly dance, nearly too fast to see.
The second ork twin, deserted by her leader, is the only one remaining of the group's former opponents, the other ork bleeding to death, the elf wizard and the lizardman dead, the others gone. She tries to drag her sister to herself, sobbing, but can accomplish little with her broken fingers. She settles for pressing the palms of her hands against her sister's torn throat, trying to stem the tide of blood, tears running down her face.*