Adi
Crew of the Wayward Son
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Post by Adi on Jul 29, 2013 12:00:40 GMT -8
Gulliver vs Inky
Standard GBA rules and weapons.
Hoth: Rebel Bunker
The combatants find themselves in a bunker on Hoth during the Imperial invasion, secluded from the main invading force. Spartan decorations make it a straightforward duel...until the Imperials destroy the power generators as a part of the invasion (30 posts) and all of a sudden the bunker comes out of lockdown, exposing the duelists to the freezing cold of the planet's surface.
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Deadniquitous
Retired High Councilor 
I AM THE LAW!! Wait.....wrong movie. Sorry.
Posts: 182
Affiliation: The Force
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Post by Deadniquitous on Jul 30, 2013 6:52:44 GMT -8
He stepped into the hanger next to the giant closed hanger doors and looked around. He hated the cold. It annoyed him. Reminded him of home far too much. Home pissed him off. Too many painful memories. His eyes were jet black at this time, and his sabers sat unlit in his hands. It was dim enough he could shift his sight into the ultraviolet without pain. It wasn't as pure and effective as his Full blood Arkanian brethren, but it would work for now. He was 6'7" if he was an inch and wore all black, his long coat adorned with the purple Arkanian Shadow Dragons. His boots were toe capped in beskar, a deal he made with Cassus what felt like a millennium ago. He wondered exactly what he would find here......He had an idea it wouldn't be fun. Well, at least not "fun" like most people think.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Jul 30, 2013 9:19:25 GMT -8
If your idea of fun doesn't involve being fired upon by a very tired and very cold mercenary, you'd be absolutely correct in assuming that what came next wouldn't be.
The Rebels had pretty solid intel that at least one Force user would be involved in the assault on the base. They had that Skywalker fellow, but despite their rather cynical use of him as the new hope for the Rebellion, the top leaders knew he was ill equipped to handle any darksiders that might come their way. And their foot soldiers weren't equipped at all. So what did they do? They hired a specialist.
That specialist was Gulliver Foyle, a human mercenary from Corellia with a reputation for taking down superpowered badasses. Gulliver was posted up in the back of the hangar, maybe 40 meters from the truly massive doors that held out the elements. He had found some cargo boxes for concealment. Currently, the barrel of his M240B was nestled in a firing slit made by moving a couple of them close enough together to form a firing slit. Visually, there was nothing to give away his presence. The barrel was recessed about 6 inches from the opening. The matte black finish of the weapon would blend in with the shadows. He was prone behind the thing, ready to open fire should a viable target appear. Normal snowtroopers were generally left alone. They wouldn't see him, and his projectiles would have difficulty penetrating their armor anyways.
There was another layer of concealment to be had as well. The mercenary kept a scrap of poetry looping through his conscious mind. He couldn't truly hide his presence, but focusing on one thing to the exclusion of all else would hopefully prevent them from detecting the hostile intent that would give away the presence of an attacker.
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists that he sees ghosts.
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists that he sees ghosts.
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists that he sees ghosts.
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists that he sees ghosts.
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists that he sees ghosts.
Though the surface layers of his thoughts were occupied, years of training had allowed the merc to at least start the engagement on an insinctual level. As the tall man entered the other side of the hangar, the weapon tracked towards the man, seemingly of its own accord.
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists that he sees ghosts.
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists that he sees ghosts.
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists that he sees ghosts.
As always, he was mildly surprised to find his finger squeezing the trigger, firing off a 9 round burst towards the potential target. The flash hider that Gulliver had installed in place of a muzzle brake would prevent the flash from giving away his position, and the belt was loaded with a tracer every tenth round, meaning that his initial burst wouldn't have that telltale tracer signature. His point of aim started at the man's feet and walked upwards as recoil caused the barrel to rise. In a perfect world, the rounds would chew through the legs and the chest of the man like a lightsaber through butter.
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Deadniquitous
Retired High Councilor
I AM THE LAW!! Wait.....wrong movie. Sorry.
Posts: 182
Affiliation: The Force
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Post by Deadniquitous on Jul 31, 2013 11:15:42 GMT -8
But as we know, this isn't a perfect world and a man bred in war and trained in literal fire was the one being shot at. This man.....this man could move for a large man. With the help of the Force he was almost unstoppable. Almost. He had been stopped before, and let me tell you.....It hurt. But not this time. The gun erupted, and so too, nearly did Iniquitous. The intent to harm may not have been broadcast from the waiting Merc, but it was still there. Something....something small, like Adi's dick, was wiggling in the back of his mind as he moved through the hanger bay. He had learned a LONG time ago, probably before Gulliver was born, to heed that warning, and move. Or react, or do something that would allow him to not be dead so easily, or quickly. Like muscle memory, Iniquitous allowed the force to jettison through his body and out his pours. It was purely reactionary, and totally by reflex. Repulse. It erupted from his body in a massive wave on all sides of his body, the first bullet the only one to escape the outpouring of force. This single projectile slammed into his top cap on his foot, the intended target. It mushroomed and landed in a pile on the floor, tearing the leather from the cap and exposing the beskar beneath.
Iniquitous looked up and searched the surrounding area and could almost sort of make out a faint after glow of heat. It wasnt much, and might have been a trick of his eyes, but he mentally shrugged and made his way that way, carefully. As he moved, Aiki sprang around his body. He didn't feel like getting shot. Not yet. ooc: We have discussed this via FB chat, and it has been ok'd that I use Aiki in this match. We are both trying to prove something after all. 
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2013 12:42:04 GMT -8
The next shot would give away his position, so Gulliver did something that is almost never advisable: he went full hooah on this mother.
That the man had stopped the first burst wasn't entirely unforeseen; there were a few out there that were quick enough to react in time. And now that he was alerted to the presence of an attacker, he'd be ready. So the only thing to do was overwhelm his defenses, or at least keep him busy enough that he couldn't focus on retaliating with telekinetically.
The big 240 began to belch out short, controllable 4-6 round bursts. The points of aim would alternate high and low, with no more than a second in between each to reacquire the target. At this range, the weapon could easily track to either side of the hangar's entrace, and since concealment wasn't an issue, Gulliver was more than happy to let the tracers fly. He wasn't firing at the full cyclic rate of 900 rounds per minute, opting for a much more friendly 500 rounds, opting for about 80 rounds expended every 10 seconds. At this rate, he'd burn through the first ammo belt in about 30 seconds.
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Deadniquitous
Retired High Councilor
I AM THE LAW!! Wait.....wrong movie. Sorry.
Posts: 182
Affiliation: The Force
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Deadniquitous on Aug 13, 2013 7:32:03 GMT -8
He fell into the trance he had perfected so many years ago. All other issues, pains, problems, noises and outside interference disappeared. There was only him, and the man trying to kill him. His sabers became a blur. He knew he couldn't block all of them, the sheer force of the projectiles would eventually drive his weapons from his hands, and the lead spatter would burn holes in his arms and chest, and more importantly his jacket. Instead of blocking, he went for redirection. He didn't need to bat all of them out of the way, not while he was moving. And if he didn't keep moving, he was dead.
He burst forward, his sabers basically batting the projectiles. It was tricky business. They were faster than blaster bolts by a hefty margin, so Iniquitous ducked, weaved and zagged, cause everyone knows if you zig you get shot. A stationary target is easy to hit. A moving target is that much more difficult. He tried to bat molten lead back towards his attacker, but he knew this wouldn't work either. It was dangerous to experiment while being shot at.......He dove behind a metal crate that would afford some kind of protection for the moment. I mean, it was no kitchen table, but it would do in a pinch. He rolled out the other side of the crate, knowing full well that the man would probably be tracking him, and as he came up, the saber in his right hand went whipping end over end directly at the weapon he was being shot at with. He ducked back behind the crate quickly and let Aiki drain from his body. He tooko a deep breath and focused. Another metal crate, off to his left (also Gulliver's left) lifted from the ground, and with a flexing of his Force muscles, the crate went screaming through the air towards the Merc. He rolled out to his left and sprinted forward, focusing, his saber sailing back to his hand (hopefully). It was go time, and this guy needed to die. Right. Fucking. Now.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Aug 13, 2013 8:10:54 GMT -8
This guy was good, no doubt about it. Foyle had never seen anyone come even close to blocking that many projectiles before. From what he was told, it wasn't too much different from blocking blaster bolts after a little practice, but since he couldn't even do that, he didn't give a damn. He'd rather just shoot things.
And since shooting things was the business he was in, he knew it was time to move once his opponent made it behind the crane. That would buy the guy a few seconds, and while the rounds from the 240 would chew through the thing in short order (hell, they'll go through a car the long way if you avoid the engine block,) it would probably hold long enough for the guy to get in a counterattack. And that would be just awful.
So as soon as the guy ducked behind the crane, Gulliver slipped a zip tie that had been hanging loosely from the trigger guard around the trigger itself and pulled it tight. The crates were resting on top of the weapon's bipod, which would hold it steady for at least a few seconds. With the trigger held down, the ammo belt would only last another 5-7, but that would be long enough. The big gun spat round after round at the crane while the human merc scrambled off to the left.
Time was critical. Foyle kept his head down, but unlimbered the 6.8mm rifle and dived down into some shadows where he had a clear view of the crane. He flicked a button on the foregrip, and the legs of a bipod silently sprang down into place. He was trading cover for concealment, but with the big gun making lots of noise and spewing lots of ammo, that wouldn't be a problem. He'd get exactly one clean shot before the position was compromised.
The saber flew. Gulliver winced as it chewed through the barrel of the 240. The barrel could be changed out, but those things were bloody expensive. He still held his fire. With the gun out of commision, he was effectively playing dead.
The crate flew, and still he held his fire. And now the target was out from cover, hand outstretched, reaching for the lightsaber. The ACOG optic's chevron was sitting squarely on the target's chest as Gulliver squeezed the trigger. The target was moving, but he was moving towards the old position, to what he probably assumed was a static firing position. It was an easy enough shot at this range, and the ballistic-tipped 6.8mm projectile was a manstopper of the highest order. If it hit, it would make a mess.
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Deadniquitous
Retired High Councilor
I AM THE LAW!! Wait.....wrong movie. Sorry.
Posts: 182
Affiliation: The Force
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Deadniquitous on Oct 11, 2013 6:39:51 GMT -8
Something in the back of his mind screamed MOVE. Iniquitous was an old hand at fights, battles, War. Death was the currency he exchanged, and he was good at it. TIme, training and experience had taught him that when the Force tells you to move, you goddamned moved. In mid step he pushed off with his right leg, the Force exploding out of his body, launching him up and to the left. He landed ungracefully on the catwalk, and caught his footing. Less than a second after he left the ground, the floor ten feet to the right of where he stood exploded as the slug punched through the vacated spot and into the ground (or wall, whichever). Focusing down the catwalk, which as luck would have it, was where Gulliver was perched, and launched a massive Force Push, looking to clear the walk, and maybe slam a bunch of shit into the annoying Merc....
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