The First Blow Struck

The hover cart comes to a screeching halt. The four guards leap off, wielding sonic blasters similar to those used by the OUE campus security. The open fire on the crowd before anyone can react. Three people immediately hit the ground, dizzied by the unbearable noise the device creates in their heads.

The leader of the pirate riot control forces recognizes Doc as the inciter of the riot, since he's the one with the megaphone. He aims his sonic blaster right at him. Doc doesn't have time to react before the most ear splitting noise he's ever heard skips right past his eardrums and screeches across the auditory center of his brain. Doc almost pukes as he doubles over, clutching his ears to no avail.

Mark reacts to the man aiming a gun to his leader and fires the railgun assault rifle at the Sergeant. The thing goes off with an incredible exploding, fwhoosh sound as a pulse of white hot bullets rip through the air, breaking the speed of sound and edging on the speed of light in this atmosphere, leaving a faint blue glow in its wake. The blast rips right through the sergeant's riot helmet and continues on down the hall, leaving a cauterized pinhole through the man's brain. The sergeant's gun slips from his hand and hits the floor moments before his knees, followed by his face.

"Holy shit!" cries Mark. "I love this gun!"

Thunderhorse gives it a try. Another white-blue streak precedes a booming blast as he pulls the trigger. Half the beam melts into the thick steel ceiling while the other half splashes and ricochets. No one is injured by it.

"Watch out for the recoil," warns Mark. Thunderhorse nods.

A violet line appears briefly between Dr. Ritenrong and the hover cart. The thing's fuel cells explode and smoke. Again, no one is injured, but the hover cart is now on fire.

"Sorry," apologizes Steve. "I'm not used to shooting these things."

The crowd surges forward, putting some distance between themselves and the firefight.

Mark drops another guard easily. His simply padded riot armor burns as he flies backwards into the wreckage of the hover cart.

His head finally clear, Doc is ready for action. He draws his ion pulse gun and fires. A pull of the trigger creates the violet line of burning death between him and his target. A cavernous chunk of his target's torso disintegrates, revealing blackened spine and ribs. Fat cells burn like a hotdog on a campfire.

"Yikes," is all Doc can mutter.

Thunderhorse levels his rifle and tries again. Again the blast goes wide, this time splashing against the wall, loudly but harmlessly.

Steve tries his luck again. This time the beam connects, disintegrating the man's upper arm and a portion of his torso dangerously near his heart. The bone slides sickly out of the cauterized remains of its socket and onto the floor. Someone watching from the crowd shrieks "Oh my God!"

The guard, not killed but mortally wounded, screams bloody murder and limps off for his life, crying for backup.

The crowd, having witnessed this disgusting spectacle, now feels empowerd by the ruthless and brutal forces on their side.