[Sblock=Combat wrapup]
«Seeing as everybody passed on the long version, here's my version of what happened
"You still alive dawn there?" inquires the besalisk with a couple of lightning quick glances Mack's way.
Mack groans and rolls over,
"What the frak hit me?" Seriously ticked off, he fires his blaster rifle, still set to autofire, at the thug fighting with Keyton. He ends up hitting both him and the running thug, but only the former goes down. The latter speeds up, squeezing through the crack between the opening doors!
Mir's slim blaster is the last to speak, punching Sloor's nemesis neatly through the sternum. He falls down, dead.
"RUN! RUN FROM THE DIAMAND FISTS!" taunts the besalisk, randomly firing a couple of celebratory shots after the fleeing man's keister.
"Well... that was rather, unpleasant." Mir comments... She moves over towards her downed companion and offers him a hand,
"Are you alright Mack? It looks like you took a solid blast there."[/sblock]
“Frakkin head shot, by the Force I am lucky to be alive. I will accept whatever medical attention that can be provided. Which one of the drek-heads nailed me? He isn’t the one that ran away was he?”
"Cauld be," grins Sloor, breath quickly returning to normal.
"What are you gawing to daw abawt it?"
[Later]
"And what about the R5 there?"
"It's yours if you want it," generously offers Sloor.
"I object!" TB52 unfolds to the tippy-top of his considerable height.
"As the former assistant of an unshackled droid, R5-B8 should be the one to take over his business, to lord over all humans, to mastermind, dominate and control. It is his rightful heritage."
"Nansense! The twilek was running the shaw, I tell you!"
TB's glowing optic whirs disparagingly.
"We should at least ask him what he thinks of the matter."
“Okay here’s our SITREP. We need time in a safe place. This place is so remote that it is probably safe enough, despite the lightfight. According to what the Aqualish just said, Kingpin Sloor here could be the big criminal name on the station shortly, so our only worry is troopers most likely. We pull the dead Gamorreans back inside and lock the door. If someone does come, and we cannot handle it, fry the door controls and we make a back exit out the exhaust conduits following the schematics. I have decent computer and mechanics skills, but I am not a wizard. I am going to need time, never mind the wounds.”
"Me and tusky gawt the dawr," agrees the besalisk with a nod to the guard.
"You gawt trawble thaw, I gawt a girl who daws all awf TB's maintenance dawn awn the underside awf blue dawks..." He smiles a dangerous smile Mack's way:
"And I'm ALREADY a big name, spirk! All legal and abawve bawrd, that's the Sloor way!" With a laugh he wraps a muscled arm or two around the guard's shoulders and heads off towards the massive door, his voice fading with distance.
"Saw where's hawm? You cawm straight from Andaw?"
«Sloor will make small talk with the guard as they gather up the dead gamorreans and see to the door. Persuasion/CHANGE ATTITUDE=17 to change his attitude from Indifferent (I'm guessing) to Friendly. What's his name, by the way? If you've got no preference, then I dub thee Ponda Poandu! Go forth and do no wrong, my child.