|Battle Report for Bedlam Boys|
|3/24/2008||Gun Fight - Shoot-out||Won|
|Lugging crates of loot, buoyant after seeing off the Zen Yahoos, the Bedlam boys rolled back into Bedlam Town proper.|
There was quite a stir on Main Drain, the settlement’s principal thoroughfare, as old friends and rivals greeted the gangs, Montoya judiciously downplaying the fact that they were wanted outlaws in the Charred Cross sector.
Hours later, just before lightsout, Kendo Herty was in full grumble. While the rest of the gang had retreated to Fat Al’s, Bedlam’s most notorious drinking hole, to catch up on news and swap war stories, Kendo had been sent with Ghoulface to fence the loot they’d collected. Ghoulface was happy to catch up with traders he’d long known, but his younger gangmate was less content.
‘Man, I didn’t even get a look-in on the scrap, why am I doing all the pack slave work?’
‘Exactly because of that, green,’ advised Malky. ‘I got and old war wound, same as you, but I don’t miss scraps cos of it. This has been you pulling your weight for the boys.’
They were approaching Fat Al’s, and Kendo was about to protest further, when he spotted two figures down the street.
‘Hey, Ghoulface, look.’
Malky looked: two Orlocks in Yahoo colours. He thought he recognized them from the fight earlier.
‘Hmph,’ he rasped. ‘Looks like two of that other Lucky’s boys’ve come gunning for revenge.’
‘Should I grab the others?’ asked Kendo. They were mere metres from the entrance to Fat Al’s; sounds of raucous frivolity came from within.
‘Nah,’ said Ghoulface. ‘Two o’them, two o’us is a fair throwdown. We can do this.’
The Bedlam Boys faced off with the Yahoos, twenty paces apart, guns holstered. Slowly, they advanced, flexing their gun hands and meeting each others’ gazes. Downhive etiquette dictated that, though murder was the only thing on their minds, great face would be lost by showing weakness and drawing first As they got closer, Malky mentally noted these boys’ brass: tougher gangers than these had baulked and fled before his disfigured face.
They were so close now that Malky could hear their breaths, he was thinking that somebody had to break soon, when one of the Yahoos went for his pistol at the same time Kendo’s hand twitched. Everybody went for their guns, and there was a flurry of gunfire.
The Yahoos got the drop, and Malky and Kendo dived to avoid their shots, a bullet grazing Kendo’s arm. Malky scrambled in the compacted ash of the road surface. One of the Yahoos pulled out a mean-looking length of barbed chain and charged Kendo, who unslung his pick and met the assault.
Malky got a shot off, but missed in the flurry of action.
Kendo was toe-to-toe with his foe: they dug their weapons into each other but both were tough gangers who took a lot to put down.
Shots between Ghoulface and his foe flew improbably wide, considering the short range, until Malky got off a shot that grazed his foe’s neck. Blood gushed from the wound and the Yahoo collapsed, pressing his hands to the injury.
Ghoulface wasted no time and piled into the combat alongside Kendo, knife drawn. The Yahoo was outmanned and swiftly went down.
The gunfire had been heard down in Fat Al’s: downhivers were running out of the bar to see what the fuss was, Montoya and the rest among them.
Lucky grinned as she found her two gangers victorious over the Yahoos for a second time in a day. The downed fighters were bleeding, but very much alive.
‘Well, well, well,’ she said, thinking of the creds they had to raise to get Kaspar and Titus back, and how easy it was to demand ransom as well as pay it. ‘Whatever are we gonna do with you two….?’