Finding Cinlo wasn’t anywhere near as difficult or time consuming as Aurion had anticipated it being. Truthfully, she was expecting to have to spend days of waiting to get a network ping which may or may not have been her target. Instead, she was made to wait a few hours and suffered no false pings or partial recognitions, sightings, etc. That had very much been a welcome relief and why the bounty hunter, dressed in her Borox including dome shaped helmet, is in the Rellul District. It’s one of party, good time sections of Nemeiris but that does not mean, aside from its vibrant neon, that it could be considered in a state other than grimy. Not just some of the clientele who have a tendency to sell narcotics and services to help with the party aspect but due to the detritus which blows about rolling across the wide pedestrian avenues as hovercars drift by at low speed. The worst offenders for aiding the gathering piles of trash are corners. Once entered into it seems impossible for the discharged wrappers, cans, bottles and packages to escape. In some ways it might be better if they could and got blown off the avenues to tumble down to the bottom of the station. Alas, it never works like that, not that Aurion pays much attention to the quiet crunches that come whenever she steps onto an item of rolling rubbish on its merry way to fester in a corner.
As you might expect of a district built for partying the avenues are crammed with people prepared for a night of carefree celebration. The hour might still be relatively early in the grand scheme of things but that doesn’t and won’t stop citizens recklessly engaging in all the district has to offer. Proof of that is the already healthy number of inebriated stumbling bodies. They sway as if there is a breeze in the station. There is not. At one time there had been an investigation into whether such an effect should be introduced but it was quickly abandoned over some concern or another. More than likely it was a monetary one, not that there is any way of knowing for sure unless of course you were present in the meeting involving it. Aurion certainly wasn’t.
Rellul is a stark contrast to the upper levels which have idyllic gardens and fake skies. For Aurion the staged nature of the upper levels really is not her scene. She’d rather not be lied to about where she is, a space colony floating in the void. To her truth is much better than some dream, never bought, of pretending you are upon a planet. Whether the illusions trick other residents of the station she cannot say. She would have at one time hoped not but that had been shortly after her regaining consciousness. You see throughout her medical housing she was in the upper levels surrounded by fake smiling and tanned individuals some of which loved to bear as much skin as was legally possible. Others meanwhile milled about in suits meant to look, in most cases, more extravagant than clearly their balances could allow. All of it had humoured the bounty hunter and brought a wide smile to her face. After all, these were all acts made to trick those around them into thinking these people were more important, yet all of them knew what they were seeing was little more than skin deep.
However, Rellul isn’t her scene either. Aurion isn’t the partying type. She’s the work and get paid type. Bouncing up and down like a drunken fool has never, not even for a moment, held any sort of interest with her. In fact the only times she come to districts like this is for work. The people around here don’t know that and stare at her in much the same manner you would stare at anyone dressed in full body armour, the shoulder pads of which are half the height of her helmet. Those pads are packed with much of the circuitry which runs her suit. Though, they could be much larger. If they were it would be for no other purpose than aesthetic. One look the bounty hunter truly does not understand as she strides, eyes fixed ahead, down the avenue passing countless people who do their best, if they are able, to stay out of her way.
Neon lights flash eye burning colours all around in the dimly lit singular main ‘street’ of Rellul where music bleeds out from the interiors of the poorly sound proofed clubs to mix into a cacophonous wall of mismatched sound. Aurion cannot pick apart what she’s hearing in any meaningful sort of way. Not that she needs to while on a job, searching for Cinlo, her visor scanners working overtime attempting to facially recognise all those the bounty hunter is passing by. There is a good chance Aurion might miss Cinlo if he has remained in the area like her ping indicated. There is no way of telling. Until she gets an update ping that informs her otherwise, that is. Whether that will come to pass or not the bounty hunter prefers not to hazard a guess toward. Anything is possible. There is, contrary to some people’s popular belief, no way of anticipating people, their movements and reactions. They do as they wish. Though, Aurion would conclude Cinlo is in Rellul in hopes of keeping a low profile. As to whether that low profile is to avoid Gaorik Lop or not is a different matter. There is a healthy possibility Cinlo is unaware of the ‘broker’ being after him. There is also just as much chance of the exact opposite and him being fully aware.
Regrettably her scanners have found nothing thus far. She would rather not initiate a local system hack for better sweep odds but if by the end of this run she has nothing to show for her efforts so far then that is what she will have to resign herself to. Not because of any insistent demand from Gaorik but because she feels that efficiency is part of her job. After all, she accepted the contract and so feels compelled to use all available options at her disposal to locate and capture her mark in as sort of a time as is achievable. His crimes are not her concern, what she is interested in is…
Her scan gets a positive match, partial only, but enough to warrant further investigation. Changing direction and destination the bounty hunter does a wide arc, avoiding those in her path with deft ease until she is exactly where her visor pings the discovery at having been located. There is no one there now. Not just no one matching the partial hit but no one question. Aurion sighs, she expected as much and without the districts security feed knows there is no way for her to track whoever it might have been that her visor pinged.
“The old fashioned way it is.” The woman mutters under her breath only after checking her suits speaker function is currently disengaged. It takes only a fleeting glance to be sure.
Right after she flips the speaker function to the on position and to the nearest group of clearly half cut party goers asks, “Have you seen a man with a cyber man around here?”
A couple of the group turn unsteadily to fix Aurion, or more accurately her Borox suit, with half confused stares of incredulity. The bounty hunter takes that as a no and is about to depart when someone pipes up, “And what are you supposed to be, fancy dress for the evening entertainment?”
A round of raucous laughter explodes from the group barely managing to equal the collective chatter of other station citizens or the wall of music.
“You haven’t seen a cyb…”
“Hell as like. We’re partying. Looks like you could do with trying it sometime chrome dome.”
Another round of raucous laughter boils from the group. Ordinarily Aurion would issue threats in hopes of learning something but there is no way this group are in a coherent enough state to be aware of anything they aren’t looking at. And so without a word she departs. Funny thing is they will almost certainly be convinced Aurion is a guy. Borox has a habit of tricking people. Then when you factor in that Aurion uses a modulator to hide her voice, you can understand why people get the wrong end of the stick. However, she doesn’t use a modulator because she is a woman, rather she uses one because… She isn’t sure why really. It’s a habit. A capability of her suit she felt inclined to utilise for best practice.
The group the bounty hunter attempted to converse with continue to make jabs of some sort or another, whether toward or involving Aurion it’s impossible to say as their voices are lost in the swell of sound.
Returning to her stride down one of the pair of pedestrian avenues her visor resumes its endless jumping scan of faces. The bounty hunter is close to the end of the ‘street’ now and as she feared has found nothing. About to admit defeat early and go on a quest to locate the nearest access point she begins to turn only for her visor to ring with a perfect match. Aurion pulls up the find and assesses the discovery. Without a doubt the face with its shaved head matches the younger and less grim looking image provided of Cinlo Bazinvingenier save for what appear to be cosmetic protrusions along his scalp. They aren’t in the supplied image, though there presence has no affect on Aurion’s reaction, a smile cracking across her face. She didn’t expect to be granted such good fortune and pings for the location data of the match. Having secured it she spins about quickly and locks on the orientation her visor details she needs to take. Without pause she breaks back into a stride. Not a run. There is no need to run. After all, a fully armoured body sprinting through Rellul would only bring unwanted attention that could tip off Cinlo. The bounty hunter would rather make this capture as cleanly and easily as possible. It’s why she readies her arm mounted tripshot launcher with a pack of web cables. If not for the inter-district security sensors she would have done it in advance but for whatever reason the sensors take issue with tripshots being loaded. Aurion hasn’t a clue as to why for they are in no way lethal, at least on their own. By that she means they’re lethal if your legs become immobilised and you topple off the edge of something. But then you shouldn’t be running from whoever is firing it then, should you?
Having crossed from one avenue to the other and fast closing on the location of the ping, surprised her visor was capable of working at such a range to have made this discovery, she catches sight of no one matching Cinlo’s description. Her immediate thought is that it is a false ping. A ghost hit as they’re called. It wouldn’t be the first, far from it, and surely will not be the last either. Tech as wonderful as it is does have drawbacks and ghost hits are one of them. They’re infrequent enough that visor scans remain an efficient form of target location. However, when they occur they are infuriatingly irritating. Aurion herself has custom recalibrated her visor more than thirty times in hopes of mitigating the issue but thus far continues to suffer their annoyance without resolution.
Thankfully, there are a number of citizens nearby and not all of the groups, large and small, look in any way as out of it as the last group she attempted to converse with. So, that is why upon approach and discovery of no target the bounty hunter queries, “Seen a man with a cyber arm around here?”
“Who’s asking?” Is the more revealing than you might realise response from a snarling woman who utters those words only after having done two head to toe sweeps of the Borox wearing figure before her.
The bounty hunter could handle this softly but is not inclined to and so replies, “Someone you don’t want to piss off, that’s who’s asking. Now tell me if you know anything and make it quick.” As the words slide from the speaker of the Borox helmet Aurion taps lightly on the pistol affixed to her thigh. It’s a silent threat. Not one the blonde woman in the Borox has any intention of following through on, but the snarling woman with her tighter than skin mauve dress which ends barely before it’s begun, brown eyes, black hair and mountain of makeup doesn’t need to know that. As long as Aurion makes it look and sound serious this party goer should comply. And she does, having caught the tapping on the pistol grip the woman quickly gulps, eyes wide and then stutters fearfully, “He went inside.”
“Cavort. He went inside Cavort. You can get in right there.” The woman looks flushed and points to a nearby entrance flocked by a mixture of casually and professionally dressed bodies. The twin bouncers stare the crowd down clearly hoping the expressions on their faces will be enough to discourage anyone from rushing for the open doors behind them. Thus far it looks to be working but doesn’t help Aurion in the slightest. She certainly isn’t dressed for a club of whatever kind Cavort might be. From the name she can hazard a guess. It’s why she rolls her eyes, turns and leaves the woman who screams some statement of forced confidence she doesn’t truly possess.
Fifteen strides take the blonde in the Borox from the woman in the overly tight dress to the doors of Cavort. Many of the would-be patrons part upon her approach to let her through. Doubtful they know who she is. Not that they need to as it is clear they know what she is. Few people want to step foot in the path of a bounty hunter. Their collective reputations precede them. Alas the bouncers evidently don’t feel the same for both of them, roughly the same height as Aurion, look her up and down but do little else.
“I need to get inside.” Aurion informs bluntly.
“That’s what they all say. Now get to the back of the line.” One of the pair says from behind cosmetically attached dark mirror lenses which cover his eyes as he stands arms folded across his wide chest.
The response is much as she expected. Still, she looks around to make a point because clearly there is no line here. This is a mass, a rabble, a congregation and the bouncers words were meant to dismiss her. If only he knew who he was messing with. He will soon enough, but for now Aurion will play nice, by her standards anyway.
“I would if there was a line.”
“Oh, well if there’s no line then you ain’t getting in, simple as.”
“Then how if you don’t enforce a line and let people in are you still open?”
“It’s invitation only.” Is the response from the other bouncer who looks like a clone of the first who spoke. He isn’t. The angle of his brow, the crooked shape of his nose, the more rounded chin all are indications that these two are different people entirely and not one created from the other.
“OK then listen. You don’t want me here and I don’t have an invitation…”
“No shit.” One of the pair says interjecting.
“…but I need to get inside. I have business to conduct.” The bounty hunter finishes without acknowledging the interruption.
“Not with the boss you haven’t. You’re name’s not on the register.”
“How would you know without asking my name, smart guy?” Comes the sarcastic barb Aurion fires back instantly without having to think.
It works because there is a pause. She has a point and the bouncers know it. They won’t admit it. Few people admit when they’re wrong on Nemeiris, at least in districts such as this one anyway.
“Exactly, so how about you cut your shit and let me in.” Aurion says having felt it important to capitalise on her advantage.
“No can do. If you’re not on the list then you don’t…”
Aurion leans in so that she is between the pair and mutters, “I don’t give a damn about your boss or who he is. I’m here for a mark and if you two don’t let me pass in the next nine seconds I’m going to put you both in the hospital when I shove your head…” Aurion points to the guy on the left. “…up his ass.” She then points to the guy on the right.
Miraculously, the bouncers don’t react. They want to; Aurion can feel it. That is why she has a wide smile across her face. Pity the bouncers can’t see it. If they could they would know she means what she’s just said. Thankfully, they are in no doubt this guy means it. Yes they think Aurion is a guy. Most people do when they see her in full Borox and that is how she likes it. Though, the joy she’d experience if they learned the truth might be enough to offset the risk, might.
“You can pass. Just don’t cause any trouble in there.” Comes the relent from the more outspoken of the pair.
“I’m a bounty hunter; I’ll do what I must.” Is the throwaway line Aurion gives while shoving past the bouncers.
They close the forcibly opened gap between them just in time to prevent any of the would-be patrons from slipping through. Outraged shouts and questions as to why the guy in the armour was let through quickly follow. They’ll go unheard and ignored. Aurion doesn’t care. She’s inside and slips down the narrow corridor with its four turns, all of which seem pointless as she double backs on herself. Still, at the end of the run she slinks through a wide doorway into Cavort proper. Neon lights strobe and pulse high overhead illuminating and darkening the raised podium like stages which as the blonde suspected are occupied by dancers who writhe and gyrate suggestively in time to the ‘music.’ Its roar is deafening as it pounds out of a PA system that isn’t within site.
If not for her Borox suit Aurion would be forced to endure the full volume of the ‘music’ with its thundering overlapping light speed drums, chiming off-kilter rings, thudding bass line and screeching vocals. It’s not live performance. Rather, it is being beamed over the PA system, wherever it might be, from a single dancing DJ who appears preoccupied with another guy that is hanging off his shoulders. Thankfully, the bounty hunter can able to suppress the ‘music’ until it is little more than a whisper at the edge of her hearing.
The patrons quickly prove they are not as cognisant of their behaviour as Aurion was of her need to keep eyes peeled and visor in active scan mode. If they were they wouldn’t be leaping, wriggling, spinning, hopping and stumbling about frequently bumping into the bounty hunter while she snakes her way around the room in a large circle.
Many eyes have fall upon her and continue to stare. It’s not surprising and is due to how little she fits in with the surrounding party goers as well as the general aesthetic of Cavort. The aesthetic being that of clean lines broken up by reams of draping silk and boards to which gradient spanning squares of leather are fastened to contrast with the plush quarter circle white seating arrangements and staggered floor levels that create a tier system removed of sense.
Two fifths of the way along her planned lap of Cavort’s interior the bounty hunter gets a ping. Her head twists in the direction and sees her catch sight of her target immediately. Regrettably the same is true of Cinlo who upon laying eyes upon the odd sight of a Borox clad body measuring over six foot grimaces and breaks into a shoving sprint for freedom. Aurion curses. This is exactly what she had hoped to avoid, but if there was ever going to be anywhere that Cinlo would see her coming then it would be inside of a club. Mercifully the bounty hunter is not forced to barge and shove patrons out of her path as she gives pursuit, unlike Cinlo. Though, if his need to knock people clear from his path slows him down in any significant form he shows no signs of it.
Having crossed the main floor of Cavort, Cinlo clatters into the corridor, barely managing to make the turns while heading back toward the entrance. Still, at the end of the struggle he bursts, with a raised knee, between the pair of bouncers who topple to all fours confused as to what has lanced into them from behind. That is until they catch sight of the blurred Borox figure they permitted entrance minutes earlier and realise they have indeed caused trouble.
Giving pursuit, Aurion notes how had those stood in the doorway been anyone other than the bouncers Cinlo crashing through them would have had a significantly different outcome to what is was. In fact, there probably would have been a need for emergency medical personnel to be called. Thankfully it happened the way that it did and so the bounty hunter continues her pursuit.
Many citizens manage to halt their ambling and wandering in time to avoid a collision with Aurion which would go much worse for them than it would for her as she races after Cinlo. Her x-shaped vest cloak/coat amalgamation flapping behind her as she continues to close the gap on her fleeing target.
Evidently the needing to shove, barge and throw people out of his way is affecting the prospects of her targets escape now. If the avenue was clearer Aurion would risk taking a shot at Cinlo but it isn’t and so she will simply have to wait for a safer opportunity to present itself.
Then without warning Cinlo turns peeling off the main ‘street’ down a side alley. The blonde in the Borox thinks that remarkable and never would have considered him taking that sort of a risk. Because to her understanding many of these side streets come to sudden inescapable dead ends. It might be he thinks quick alteration of course will give Aurion the slip. If that is the case then he should think again. There is no way that is going to happen she thinks following in his footsteps.
Being off the main path has its benefits Aurion quickly learns for they are almost entirely vacant of station citizens, which affords her the opportunity of firing off a tripshot. Somehow Cinlo evades it with a quick dodge in the form of the six foot nine inch tall man doing a run along a short section of wall before returning to ground. Aurion never would have considered a man of Cinlo’s size and shape to be capable of such a deft manoeuvre and admits, to herself only; she is impressed as she cycles her tripshot manually to take a second shot quicker than the automatic function will permit.
Ready and waiting to be fired, Aurion raises and levels her arm once more but makes sure to maintain her pace, line up the shot and… Cinlo leaps up. Aurion curses, adjusts her aim and fires. The tripshot misses, narrowly. Her target knows she’s tried to capture him and issues a wide snug grin in response before turning and rushing off out of sight.
Unlike Cinlo the woman in Borox leaps makes the jump with ease and has no need to latch onto the edge of the ledge. If only that short delay hadn’t permitted Cinlo to gain ground and widen the gap between them, she thinks. Not that the gap, by the looks of things, will continue to grow as her marks seems to be struggling to squeeze, duck and weave through a series of crisscrossing pipes lacking in any form of consistency.
Seeing an opportunity to end this chase, the bounty hunter fires the tripshot again. It is without doubt perfectly on target. However, it never hits its mark and not due to any action performed by her fleeing target either. Rather, the tripshot of ripped out of the air by a bullet which detonates the capture device into thousands of splintered pieces. A snarl carves its way across Aurion’s face in response as, while continuing to give pursuit, she looks for her targets support. She is not left to search for long for out of the blue appears a trio of familiar faces, the Wenon Clan. They’re sibling bounty hunters who have a history of gate crashing other contracts. Their only intent is to swoop in and take a mark so they might claim the pay for themselves. Aurion has come across them before but today is not going to be successful for them, she swears that.
Wenon, as faceless as Aurion is currently, open fire. They use live ammunition, having no intention of wounding or incapacitating Aurion but rather killing her outright. They are well versed in her capabilities and in the face of the threat the siblings think the best course of action is always elimination. Luckily, Aurion is faster and while continuing her sprint leaps, twirls and dives past the bullets aimed to claim her life.
“Break and pursue, we’ll handle Aurion.” Is the heavily lowered and modulated voice that belches from one of the armour clad trio in the seconds prior to the largest of the group nodding and breaking off their projectile based assault to comply with the order. After all, to claim a payout you need to complete the contract and in this case that is the capture of Cinlo, alive.
This splitting of numbers aids Aurion who watches as one of the trio departs in pursuit of her mark leaving her to face against two of the clan. She thinks those are much fairer odds and why she leaps towards them, pulling her pistol as she goes. It is a Velek, capable of incapacitation only. The blonde in the Borox fires the weapon twice. One of the Wenon pair raises an oscillating energy shield that atomises both rounds with arcing tendrils of energy. Right after the two siblings return fire forcing Aurion to mid-air throw herself under a ledge to avoid her life being ended by the large and lethal Hijid weapons.
“I don’t have time for this. Fuck!”
“Not your day Aurion. We always knew you were overrated.” Comes a jab from one of the Wenon.
The blonde doesn’t care who but can well imagine a smug smile plastered across whatever face lies under the helmets of the Wenon siblings. She certainly has never seen what they look like, much like she doubts they have seen her face either. There is however, no doubting that she needs to get moving again and so with little other option prepares her Borox for the riskiest trick she’s configured it to be capable of.
Six seconds of waiting follow. They drag, painfully so, but at their conclusion Aurion throws herself out and up from cover, right toward the pair of Wenon. They are shocked but fire all the same. Regrettably, for them, their Hijid rounds do not claim the life they were intended to. Rather, the bullets are repelled leaving Aurion to crash bulbous shoulder first into one of the pair.
“Semik!” Is the screeched reply that is delivered in response to the smaller of the pair being flattened and then tripshotted in place.
A massive jolt of electricity overloads both the restrained captives suit and nervous system leaving Aurion to deliver a spin kick to her second foe with such brutal efficiency that the visor on their helmet cracks and shatters eliciting a scream from the wearer a half second prior to a Velek round being fired into the gap. A blood curdling shriek erupts. However, the blonde in Borox has already moved on, having returned to her pursuit not only of Cinlo but the last Wenon sibling.
It takes little time at all for Aurion to close on the last of the Wenon Clan and even less time for her to dispatch them. In fact they seemed oblivious to her presence even as she delivered a swift knee to the back of their neck and then fired a trio of Velek rounds into their chest.
The incapacitated mass of armour in response dropped to a wide rooftop with a dull metallic thud ending the competition which tried to swoop in and claim her mark. The same mark whom Aurion quickly follows down a series of narrow winding avenues barely large enough for Cinlo to maintain a decent pace and stay out of her reach until they are no more and the fleeing cyber armed man finds himself at a dead end.
Cornered or not, Cinlo refuses to give up on fleeing and attempts to leap for a ledge way out of his reach but potentially not Aurion’s. The bounty hunter watches the desperation and smiles widely beneath her dome shaped helmet as she saunters toward the man with the cosmetically added protrusions that create ridges down the length of his otherwise shaved head. His face hidden to her twisted into a dirt smeared unshaven snarl of an expression until he turns her way.
“Nowhere else to run so why not make it easy on yourself and surrender.” Those are the words Aurion delivers to Cinlo as he stands staring her in the face growling angrily, cybernetic arm clearly ready for something other than to accept defeat. The bounty hunter expected nothing less but feels it is always worth trying to reason. She never knows, one day someone might surprise her and surrender. Yet she doubts it, quite pessimistically in fact.
“Fuck you hunter scum, I’m not surrendering. I’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve been chasing an innocent man.”
“Innocent men don’t run.” Is the blonde’s frank response.
“You would say that; your kind always believes themselves right. You’re no altruist. You do this for money, admit it.”
“You’re right, I do.” The bounty hunter admits willingly and without concern.
“Wait, what?” Cinlo is confused by the honesty from this Borox clad bounty hunter who though smaller, in every dimension than him, is of a decent enough size for this to be a potentially interesting fight. If they were to have a fair fight that is, which they aren’t. Cinlo has no intention of fighting fair. He’s no fool and has survived by fighting in whatever manner is most likely to hand him victory.
“Never as smart as you think, mark.”
“Fuck you!” Is the bellowed roar that drowns out the buzzing sound of electrical cables wherever round them they might be snaking on this wide platform, one side of which is entirely open to the massive drop which lies beyond.
The cry comes alongside a launching of Cinlo’s body toward Aurion, just as she had been expecting and why she quickly brings up her knee to act as a wedge between them in the moments prior to her throwing herself backward to the ground and Cinlo head over heel.
Unwillingly he flies through the air but falls short of the high flat wall helping to keep the modified man in the arena. Still, he tries to do the dishonourable thing when he does recover from the impact and rush toward the opening he squeezed his wide frame through. He doesn’t get far because Aurion fires the remainder of her packs tripshots across the opening lacing it with electrically charge wires. Again Cinlo growls and snarls in response before resorting to his favoured method of attack, a charge.
Throwing himself at Aurion again sees him deftly evaded and a series of strikes pummelling his skull, sending his vision blurred and doubled. Still, he manages to win a small victory when he tears the Velek from the bounty hunters grip and tosses it over the edge to lord knows where eliciting a sigh of dissatisfaction from Aurion.
“Aw, did I part the bounty hunter from their little toy?” Is the mocking rhetorical query the man with the cyber arm utters only to erupt into a rumbling, “Ahahahaaa” right after.
“Now come at me like a real man.” Are the next words out of Cinlo’s mouth. Like most it seems he believes Aurion to be male, which matters not a lick to her as she obliges with a quick dart too fast for the lumbering mass of her opponent to track.
Armoured fists rain down upon him. He feels there bite and recoils in the wake of each and every one of them. It’s enough to make most opponents beg for mercy but not Cinlo who out of nowhere reveals a speed not previously showcased. It comes in the form of a grab performed by his cybernetic arm. And with this hold upon Aurion he slams her hard against the wall only to quickly follow it up with a quarter windmill throw that sees her slam back first into the ground. The impact doesn’t hurt so much as inconveniently sting for the bounty hunter who is soon greeted with the sudden emergence of hooked claws from the cyber arm. They are what Aurion had been waiting for the reveal of. It took Cinlo longer than she expected to resort to them.
Feeling confident victory is close the cyber armed man with brown eyes erupts into a frenzy of slashes in the wake of a stomp he had hoped would end the bounty hunter but which, not unsurprisingly, failed to.
In response to the swipes Aurion leaps back, twisting and moving in such a way it would under other circumstances perhaps be seen as a dance. Cinlo has to admit this hunter is far more proficient than most he’s come across, yet it will not be enough. His attacker will find their efforts bring them up short, which is why he is inclined to hasten the conclusion by quickly collapsing upon his adversary.
A swift exchange of swipes and punches follow culminating in a quick throw from the bounty hunter and then her pinning her target to the ground. Not that he is inclined, regardless of his shock, to surrender. It’s why he inverts his claws in preparation to… He never gets the chance for whatever it is he intends for Aurion pulls her a Void blade and cleaves the hooks from their mounting. A scream of terror and disbelief escape Cinlo. But Aurion does not stop there. Rather, she quickly goes about reducing the capabilities of the cyber arm, then once satisfied leaps off from atop her target, delivers a solid kick which sends him skittering across the open area only to swiftly reload her tripshot and before he has chance to scramble away, lash and secure him in place.
Massive bolts of electrical discharge through his mass causing shrieks to spring forth from the very back of his throat and all while his body is sent convulsing with ruthless efficiency.