Mason roared as he leveled both pistols on the guards emerging from behind the crates. Six bolts raced from the barrels of his pistols. Racing across the hanger bay, he watched as miniature explosions sent the men flying in opposite directions. He took two more strides before he felt himself being thrown onto the hard permacrete floor. A pain filled scream erupted from his throat as the cold ground fought with the burning of a laser beam tearing through the rear side of his armor, leaving a blistering wound on the back of his ribs. He had found the two previously unconscious guards. It wasn’t a joyful reunion. He forced himself to roll despite the pain screaming in his mind. He had to get behind cover before more laser beams found their mark.
Barely aware of the pulse and laser fire erupting from the open doorway, pinning the guards in place, he scrambled to find cover. Inch by agonizing inch he drug himself the twenty feet to the safety of the crates. Pain seared its way into his mind with every move of his arm as he searched the ground for a weapon. His pistols lay on the floor in a pool of blood. After a few seconds, he found the discarded, barely charged laser pistol of a guard. Sucking in a ragged breath, he poked his head just above the crates to get a view of the raging battle. One guard was too focused on keeping his unexpected rescuers at bay, while the other knelt down just visible beside a stabilizer, reloading. Easy targets, too bad there were only a few charges left in the well used pistol. He would have to make each shot count. Taking careful aim at the fully exposed guard, he fired. Sharp piercing pain racked his raw blistered ribs. The room began to spin before his suddenly weary eyes. He grimaced when he felt the oozing liquid from torn blisters sliding down his side.