Modus Operandi Part II

Posted on Sat Feb 22nd, 2014 @ 11:10am by Morgo Le'Shaad & Berry & Nimo Lemere

3,252 words; about a 16 minute read

Chapter: Chapter IV: Rezer's Edge
Location: Edge of town, Nadroj
Timeline: After "Modus Operandi Part I", Afternoon

OLD

“You have my permission to try.”

Nimo quickly lowered into his stance, his smirk toothy as he looked almost feral in his eagerness to fight. “Your existence is enough permission for me.”

Berry’s brows furrowed as her lips parted. The water currents around these two had suddenly quickened in the last few minutes, streaming fast under an illusion of calm water. Were they really going to fight? She winced again at the burst of intent from the stranger.

Then the dust kicked up as Nimo leapt forward, electrostaff flying down onto Morgo with the confidence of the first, all-out swing.

“Morgo, look out!”

NEW


With minimal effort, Morgo stepped out of the way, allowing the staff to swipe past her face, the fair hair framing her face swaying after the force of the attempted strike. Immediately lowering her weight Morgo thrust out, her spear humming through the air as she sought to pierce. Forced to dodge, the man moved quickly, but was met with a series of lighting quick strikes as Morgo pushed forward again and again, face impassive, the dizzying white glow of her spear meant to disorient with its rapid movement.

Fluid and unrelenting, the noblewoman’s technique was precise and fierce. Morgo may have once been near-royalty, a lifestyle that many thought was sedentary and indulgent, but this Duchess was as far from harmless as they came. Wealth, after all, was no excuse to forget how to properly kill—the profession of her ancestors.

Nimo squinted at the glow of the spearhead in his face, his head barely dodging it. Instead, he saved the bulk of his dodging for his legs, as the spear quickly zipped down. Nimo hopped, his long jacket flapping. This woman didn’t mind maiming with that spearpoint, but he didn’t mind breaking a few bones himself.

As he hopped and dodged, he spun his electrostaff in front of him, whipping it in circles and circles, creating an ever-moving shield. The staff snapped against the spear, Nimo trying to at least divert it for a few seconds. Energy bursts zapped and sizzled as electrostaff met the cortosis.

Morgo adjusted quickly, the black silk of the scarf around her shoulders swaying with her movement. His sphere of defense was nigh impenetrable as long as he kept up his staff whipping, and no strike but the fastest of them would make it through. Unless she compromised his defense.

Thrusting her spearhead forward, Morgo met his staff head on and halted its path with her spear. The force of the blow vibrated through the cortosis steel of her staff as Morgo gripped her spear tighter. Within a split-second, Morgo knocked his staff’s end aside, creating an opening for herself as she twisted into his space, using the crackling end of her stave to strike him directly in the tender line of his throat, landing a paralyzing blow. Had she been able to use her spear end, it would have burned a hole straight through his neck, killing him instantly.

This, however, was sufficient to incapacitate the man for a valuable few seconds.

Nimo grimaced as his body stiffened at the sudden surge of energy. He would have yelled if his vocal chords had the correct nerve signaling in place, but a huge jolt of energy usually disrupted that. Bright flashing lights flooded his vision, and he shouted for his body to movemovemove as he fell on his back, staff clenched in his hand.

Berry gasped, eyes widening.

Morgo’s pale eyes glittered in the light of her own spear as her staff snapped outward from her body like an extension of her arm, dust and dirt flying around them. And without further hesitation, Morgo mercilessly spun her body and brought the white of her spear down, intending to separate his head and his right shoulder clean off with a final blow. As her spearhead would cauterize the wound as soon as it split through his body, Morgo had no concerns that his gore would dirty her clothes.

Nimo’s red brows rose as he stared at the glowing spearhead plummeting at him. Time slowed. The sound of Morgo’s name was dim. Who said it? Berry did. He grimaced. How dare she.

Then he quickly pulled his staff up to him.

The woman didn’t even waste a reaction at his last-ditch effort to defend himself, her expression chilling in its apathy for what she was about to do to him. As she looked the man in the eye, an unnamed hunger glinting in her own battle-bright gaze, a small part of her mind sang out in glorious need to split this man’s entrails onto the ground—

And then he fired the electrostaff.

There was a split second of a faint whine before something shot out of the sparking end—straight at Morgo’s face.

Her eyes widened in muted surprise before Morgo was forced to redirect her strike to deflect the crackling shot from hitting her, diverting it into the distance. The sudden change in momentum forced Morgo off balance as she rolled away and raised herself to a crouch as her bearings came back to her, one hand braced on the ground while one hand held the stave pointed away from her opponent, poised to strike.

Snapping her head up, strands of her hair flew back from her face as Morgo’s lips curled into a silent snarl as she bared her teeth in a moment of exposed ferocity, sharp eyes finding the staff that had foiled her.

Somehow he had discharged a shot at her, akin to a plasma shot but crackling with rawer energy. Morgo had not known that his electrostaff had been outfitted for range attacks, and had been unprepared for the sudden shot—reflex alone saving her life. Morgo would not be taken off guard again.

As she watched the offending electrostaff fizzle with its sudden outburst of energy, the three gold rings encircling the staff end took on a new interest to Morgo. One ring no longer burned as brightly with light as the others did. Perhaps they were not as decorative as she had once thought.

Nimo staggered to his feet, a pained smirk on his face as he regained control of his body. “You’re right where you belong, aren’t ya. On the ground,” he croaked with a sneer. The electrostaff hummed as he swung it forward, one end pointing at her as his smirk widened. “So sad no one will be able to bury you in it when I’m done.”

Berry frowned, stepping towards them. “Hey! We’re not burying anyone today, Mister. We have something important to do and—”

“Stay out of this, Berry!” he snapped, eyes suddenly ablaze…but the reason why no one could tell. He spun his staff, slowly increasing his speed as he gauged just how much muscle control he had left. Plenty, it seemed. The staff whirled it in front of him, then behind, creating a wall of hurt around him for anyone that dared trespass.

Of course, Berry would dare. She glanced at Morgo and at the guy. “What if I went with you instead, so that when Morgo comes back to get me and you guys can fight s’more.”

Nimo barked a laugh, his staff slowing a bit. “And what makes you think she’d come back for someone like you?”

Berry’s brow furrowed, and she shrugged. “I dunno…I mean, it’s better than anyone dying here.”

He leveled his staff at her, smirking. “And you don’t think I’d try to kill you, too? Your blind trust is almost as disgusting as her wealth.” His lids lowered.

Now the part-Aquar frowned at him. “I don’t think you can kill me.”

Nimo scowled, eyebrow twitching as his staff spinning increased in speed. “Yeah, well—”

“Empty is the box that makes the most noise when struck.” Morgo interrupted, now standing, her spear now parallel with her body—a defensive stance should he strike again, “And you make so much noise, boy.” She almost purred, “So what are you overcompensating for, that you would threaten a little girl who could beat you into dust?”

Morgo did not smile, but her eyes glinted. Empty is the box that makes the most noise when struck. Absently she wondered: if she buried her spear into his chest, would he sing too?

“She’s not just a little girl!” he yelled back, almost indignant. His own blue eyes flashed at her, like lightning striking the water. He whipped his staff at her. “You should know that, if you’ve spent any time with her.” Then he sneered. “But that doesn’t matter to you, does it. No one does. Just your own freedom.”

His electrostaff made a high hum as it spun around him, the circles dizzying and lighting up his eyes.

“Don’t do this!” Berry pleaded. “You guys, I’m serious.” She took a step toward the whirling electrostaff, her eyes reflecting the glow. “No needs to be hurt anymore.”

Nimo scowled as he glared at Morgo. “No one can be hurt if they’re dead.” Then he used the momentum from a backwards whirl and leapt at Morgo, the electrostaff whining as it slammed down at her.

Waiting until the last second, Morgo stepped to the side, allowing his staff to come down with all its might before she finally raised hers—watching as his weapon split itself upon the energy beam of her spear with a gleam in her pale eyes.

Twisting away after severing one end of his electrostaff from the other, Morgo stepped backwards with a dancer’s lightness, her boot resting on the fallen part of his staff—the rings she had observed from before now beneath her.

Flourishing her staff, Morgo settled back into a ready stance with vague triumph playing across his lips.

“Come now, don’t look so surprised, boy.” Morgo spoke, condescension frosting her words, “You are not the only one with tricks.”

Because while Morgo did not have the benefit of being able to shoot projectiles from her staff, she was a quick study. And a new electrostaff with custom modifications was nothing if not a riddle waiting to be solved.

Simple observation and selective use of deductive reasoning had revealed that the staff could not be powered by standard blaster cartridges, and without such a luxury, the staff only held a finite number of shots. Secondary review had established that the shots had to be powered by an alternate mechanism than the power cell that generated the staff's electromagnetic energy. Firing such a shot while maintaining the crackling energy pulsing through the staff would simply too taxing for a single power cell. Ergo, a secondary powering mechanism that enabled range attacks had to be located and destroyed if Morgo was to increase the probability of victory.

But what could power such an attack and continue to power future shots?

A moment's consideration had revealed the answer was wind power, ingenious in its simplicity and practicality in implementation. Simple physics dictated that such a turbine mechanism would be located where the velocity was greatest—at the furthest end of rotation. The revelation had shed a new light on why the man had kept twirling and spinning his staff even when not engaged in active combat. He was a tricky one, this man. And Morgo had been quite ready to write off his incessant twirling as nothing more than tasteless flair.

But now his trickery and half his staff’s attacking power laid under the heel of Morgo’s black boot. He would not be charging additional shots now, nor ever again. All energy he had stored now was all he would ever have.

Nimo’s eyebrow twitched as he spun the other half of this staff, now a stick. “Kriffing bitch!” he spat, the stick becoming a blur as his anger intensified. “That staff cost me more sweat than you’d ever make in your life!”

Berry stared. Even though she didn’t know about weapons, she knew Nimo was telling the truth because she had seen the staff before…or at least, what those two sticks used to be.

“Guys!” Berry shouted. “You have to stop! This is STUPID, and that’s coming from me!!”

“You’re stupid!” Nimo yelled back, clearly not thinking. Then he leveled his glare at Morgo. “And you. I’m done with you.” Then he pushed off the ground and bolted straight at her, stick whirling—before another shot erupted from it, flying straight at Morgo.

At that moment, Berry clapped a hand to her mouth. It couldn’t be. That smirk…that fabulous flair that was still so rough around the edges to stay sharp. Or was it his hair that was fabulous? No...it had to be both. Because Nimo was really good at almost everything...except keeping his temper down.

The shot grazed Morgo’s arm, scorching through the fabric and burning the skin of her shoulder right off. The man’s shorter staff no longer afforded him accuracy, but his range had spread—yet Morgo remained confident that this duel would not be his victory, but hers. Clamping down on the white hot pain, Morgo blinked the injury away. Expression determined, Morgo readied her spear to meet him head on. The bounty hunter’s patience was unravelling and his weapon was now handicapped. This would soon be over.

”STOP!”

Nimo winced, his ears suddenly ringing. “Just shut up already!”

Stepping back, Morgo flinched at the sheer strength of Berry’s exclamation—a lesser Force Shout if she’d ever heard one. Too annoyed to be impressed that Berry had instinctually managed to Shout, Morgo’s sharp eyes turned onto Berry's solemn and childish fury. So petulant.

Berry rushed to the man, her gaze quite serious. "You know I don’t shut up. So stop it…Nimo.”

Nimo smirked back, although the fire in his eyes grew warm. “Make me.”

The part-Aquar almost jutted a lip out, brows lowered, as she chose the exact moment to snatch the dusty stick from his hand.

“Hey!” he yelped.

Then Berry turned on Morgo, the disappointment on her golden-green face lending her a strange, mature air. Well, she seemed quite mature compared to these two dueling dolts. “Morgo.” She waved the stick at the Dromachean. “I thought you’d be more careful since you’re smart. We have a mission, and if you really thought he was dangerous I could’ve taken care of him myself for you without you getting hurt, y'know..." In fact, Berry almost looked hurt herself at being forgotten by the woman. "Look.” She applied pressure to a part of the staff and fired a plasma shot into the ground. Dirt and debris exploded into the air, but Berry remained unflinching as she gazed at the other woman. “There aren’t any more shots left in this, so let’s go.”

“Don’t tell her that, Berry,” Nimo angrily hissed as he glared at that stupid braided head.

Morgo too leveled a positively icy look at Berry. She had been ready to snap a question as to what the Sithing hell was going on when the pieces finally came together.

The man knew Berry. And Berry knew him.

From the beginning of their unfortunate encounter, the man had seemed unusually preoccupied with Morgo's treatment of Berry, coming to the girl's defense in a way that screamed personal attachment. Morgo supposed that she should have seen his bleeding, bond-tied heart before the fight had began. Perhaps she would have if she had not been so eager to escape him.

As the urgency defend herself, to kill, slowed into a sedate throb in Morgo's mind, the woman's energy found an outlet in quiet, simmering anger. Sucking in an irritated breath between her teeth, Morgo's tone was of one simply done with the world.

“Well perhaps if you had bothered to mind your memory you might have recognized this unruly reprobate as one of your old compatriots, and we wouldn’t have had to fight in the first place.” She bit out at Berry, exasperated as she lowered her staff and disengaged her spear, gesturing towards her opponent, “Besides, I don’t recall you intervening to protect me, Berry.” Morgo muttered, vaguely accusatory.

Dusting herself off and smoothing her hair to an acceptable state, the fighting tension slowly bled from Morgo’s frame as she reminded her body that there was no longer a threat to be dealt with, and that returning her epinephrine levels and heart rate down to normal was now acceptable.

Leading the way back to the Red Raptor, (as Nimo was a stranger and Berry could hardly be bothered to remember her way back to anything but food), Morgo kept her gait steady and her step light, a perfect imitation of the imperial birds in the High Gardens of Dromache, who always devoted most of their time to ignoring lowly company and their meaningless chatter, trailing at their hind claws.

Yes, she was still wary of the man. He had threatened and attacked her. But a fleeting glance at Berry and Nimo's body language was enough to assure her that the leash was well in place.

“Morgoooo,” Berry whined as she scrambled after her. “It’s been a while! He cut his hair and stuff and was being really mean and—”

“I wasn’t mean!” Nimo protested. He frowned at her. “You’re just an idiot who’s too obsessed with beetles and food to see reason.”

Berry perked up. “Oh! Can we get some of those purple tuber things before we leave?”

Nimo frowned to the side. “Maybe.” He pointed at Morgo. “You have her money, don’t you? Hand it over!” It was as if he was talking down to a thief...which was funny, since he was one.

Morgo didn’t even try to contain her delicate scoff, not bothering to turn around, her white hand gesturing behind her vaguely.

“Now why would I do that?” She asked sweetly, “You were so adamantly eager to take care of dear Berry at the jewelry merchant. I could hardly deprive you of another chance to assert your obviously superior guardianship, now could I?” Morgo said smoothly, her stinging sarcasm wrapped in unfailing politeness. Twisting so she could gaze at Nimo from over her shoulder, her eyes were almost sly as she began to wrap her headscarf over herself once again, concealing all but her eyes.

“You already know where I think you should take your guardianship and insert it, Mr. Nimo. Berry and all her expenses are yours to handle now, darling—if you can manage it.”

Nimo’s nose almost raised to the sky. “I have, for longer than you’d guess.”

Berry just smiled happily at him, almost laughing. “Yeah.”

Nimo tried not to wilt at the reunion with his favorite black hole for food and money.

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