Thread: Open Skies, Smoking Guns(Myself x F R O S T)

As the Dragon bore down on his prey, the rest of the soldiers were beginning to recover from the blinding flash the dragon's wings had unleashed earlier, during his arrival to the battle, along with those pirates who had not been fortunate enough to cover their eyes in time. Those that had were busy shooting, slashing, and stabbing at any soldier within range, pressing the soldiers back towards the door from which they had emerged. The one drawback of their ambush was that they had all emerged from a single entrance, which was an easy bottleneck, whether they were entering or leaving. Many saw the plight of the Captain, but with pirates bearing down on them, none had the opportunity to really render any assistance. To his credit, the Captain fought to the end, but against a dragon, he didn't really stand a chance. Any curses or pleas for mercy died on his lips, or, perhaps more accurately, spilled onto the deck with his rapidly dwindling life force. The Neko who was covering him, while used to her sidearms rather than the larger rifles used by the soldiers, was managing well, making sure that one of the Elite Guard, who was trying to take to his feet, stayed down. With the more powerful round, there was no need to attempt to find a chink in his armor, the shot merely drilling straight through. Her covering fire did not go unnoticed, however, as a soldier threw himself at her, attempting to wrestle the rifle from her grip. Purely based on strength, he had the advantage, but she wasn't afraid to fight dirty, delivering a low kick that gave her a moment's respite. That said, he was still a trained soldier, and the fight looked once more to be turning against her until another member of the boarding party put a handaxe into said soldier's back. All across the deck, or at least in the area around the door belowdecks, in the rapidly shrinking section the Greenbacks maintained control of, the tide was turning against them. With the Captain dead, morale and order both fell apart. The more experienced of the soldiers were already falling back, offering fire as they went to dissuade pursuit. Whether they would use their entrenched position to negotiate a surrender or go down fighting was yet to be seen. For those left on deck that couldn't make it back, it was a matter of throwing down their weapons and surrendering. Several were cut down regardless, either before they could communicate their intentions or due to bloodlust on the pirates part, but some, including those smart enough to admit their surrender and see it accepted before throwing down their weapons, were rounded up and set under guard. Soon, the deck was clear, at least, as much as it could be. The dead and dying, along with weapons dropped or discarded along the way cluttered it, with some moving among them to tend to who they could and put those they couldn't out of their misery. Weapons dropped from the soldiers, being of generally higher quality than what the boarding crew had on them, were gathered, a group of them training newly liberated rifles on the door in case the survivors were foolish enough to try to mount another assault. The battle certainly wasn't over, there was still the Merchant Captain of the ship itself and the surviving soldiers to deal with, along with the loot, all below deck. The Merchant would probably come quietly enough, but the soldiers were a wildcard. Any thoughts or preparations were interrupted by a booming explosion in the distance, the sky lighting up and the ship swaying slightly from the shockwave. Most, if not all, turned to see the source of it, only to find the gunboat belonging to the Greenbacks drifting, billowing smoke and flames, torn apart by smaller explosions as it went. Whether by design or luck, it seemed the good Captain, or at least, one of her gunners, had put a round in the ammunition store, which meant that ship, and anybody on it, was done. With no water to catch them, jumping was as sure a death as staying aboard, though perhaps some lifeboats might escape the blast radius in time. The dismay was evident on the prisoners faces, though at least some of them appeared thankful that they were there, rather than back on their ship, or what was left of it. Most would agree that the pirates were at least something they had a chance with, whereas fire and shrapnel would kill them without hesitation. The Neko was one of those who stared, though she shook her head and went back to the looting. She pitied the fallen, but their equipment might yet keep her from joining them. The rifles issued to the Greenbacks were too bulky for her, but perhaps a carbine, or a finer crafted pistol would suit her. A solid dagger wouldn't be unappreciated, either. The respite wouldn't be long, though, as one of the boarders, one who had been long with the crew and seen his share of combat, began to gather them for another push. Merc! He called. Take your Guardian angel... He trailed off, pointing at the neko. And a couple more and find another way down. If negotiations break down, we'll keep their attention. Pushing through right into the rifles of the soldiers would be suicide. If anyone could find another entrance, perhaps a hatch or something, it would be Mercury. Failing that, his claws could likely find a spot to tear through. The whole ship wasn't metal, after all, so finding a point not reinforced shouldn't be terribly difficult. Perhaps more difficult would be getting the others there, but there was enough rope and netting around to make a path with a bit of work. The Neko's nickname was probably a jab at both of them, either in good fun or less so, but she was a good enough shot to not be a liability if she was tagging along. The others would mostly be to keep them from being overwhelmed by sheer numbers, though he was at least well regarded enough to have his pick of the lot. The Neko straightened up when she was mentioned, busy tucking the officer's pistol away as she did so. It was a nice pistol, after all, looking well forged, if a bit elaborate in decoration, and the ammunition he carried was likewise carefully made to be uniform, for better accuracy. The Greenbacks weren't the most technologically advanced of the nations out there, some of which had beautifully crafted weapons, or just advanced ones, but they at least kept their gear up to standard, unlike some of the less...organized armed forces. Of course, Mercury probably wouldn't appreciate even a fine firearm, given the relationship between guns and dragons, but the neko certainly could, enough to discard one of her weapons for the prize. Tragically, it would mean that her two pistols wouldn't match, but as long as she knew which to use for more accurate shots, it would be alright, until she could get something nicer. That would depend on their pay for this job. She could only hope whatever was in the hold was worth it.