Veeks

IC: Lendo leaned back in his seat and folded his arms, his hat tilted over his eyes, shading them from the light in the cantina. He was just comfortable enough to drift into a nice, long overdue sleep, when he felt his table suddenly lurch forward and bump his forearm. He looked up to see that it had been kicked by an angry looking Zabrak. He wore the clothes of a civilian, but the way he carried himself made it very clear that he was a bouty hunter. A angry bounty hunter. That was never good news for Lendo. He sat up on his chair and unfolded his arms, discretely wrapping his right hand around one of his holstered blasters. "Can I help you, friend.?" He asked in a casual, welcoming tone. He wanted to be clear that he didn't want any trouble, and if the Zabrak tried anything, he'd be well within his right to defend himself. Not that such rules mattered on Nar Shaddaa. Lendo just found it easier to kill in self defense when it wasn't a contract. It often meant no, or at least, less trouble with authorities. "Yeah. You can." The Zabrak said in a gruff, impatient tone. "Does the name Moza Bendo mean anything to you?" Lendo leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking. Moza Bendo was his most recent contract. A disgruntled Ithorian hermit who owned a second rate Swoop Bike company. He used to have a business partner, but cheated him out of a great deal of money. That business partner put a bounty on his head. A bounty Lendo had collected. "It does. I killed him. Why do you ask?" Lendo responded calmly, his grip on his blaster tightening. He could tell where this was going. "You stole my kill." The Zabrak responded. "I'd been shadowing him for weeks, and you swooped in and ruined everythig, Dral." "I didn't 'steal' anything, friend. A bounty's a bounty. You didn't kill him. I did. My kill, my credits." Lendo stated. This wasn't the first time he'd been approached by an angry bounty hunter, and he was sure it wouldn't be his last. "Of course. You're entitled to your reward, you were the one who delivered the killing blow. I didn't come to kill you for taking my contract." The Zabrak replied. Lendo arched an eyebrow in curiosity. "Then what do you want?" he asked. "My name is Jayak Koseth. You took that Ithorian out with skill. I'd like to hire you." was the Zabrak's response. "Hire me?" Lendo repeated. "Yes. A few weeks ago, my little brother was murdered by a bounty hunter by the name of Selena Varatan. I want her head, but--" "But you'd rather risk someone else's neck going out to kill her than your own." Lendo finished with asmirk. Jayak nodded. "She's very dangerous." he explained. "She's an Anzat." "Huh. That so? I don't see those walking around very often." Lendo said. "That makes things interesting." "So are you interested?" Jayak asked. "How much?" "Fifteen thousand. Dead. Bring me her head." "She's worth that much to you?" Lendo asked. "She's spilled my family's blood. She must pay the ultimate price." "I understand. Yeah, sure. I'll take the contract. You'd better be straight up about the pay." Ledo warned. Jayak smirked. "I always pay my debts." He siad as he handed Lendo a data pad. "Find me here when it's done." Jayak said. And with that, he left. "Well, that could've gone worse." Lendo said to himself as he pocketed the datapad and got out of his seat. He left the cantina and headed to the docking bay where his ship, The Nemesis waited. "R4, prep for takeoff. We've got ourselves another job." The bounty hunter said as he entered the light freighter. A series of affirmative beeps came from the small astromech droid, and the low hum of the ship's engine sounded as Lendo took a his seat at the cockpit. He gave the datapad a quick read. The target was last seen heading for Coruscant. "Huh. Looks like we're going home, R4." He said. The droid beeped once more, and moments later, The Nemesis was in the air and leaving the crime infested moon of Nar Shaddaa. Lendo then imputed the hyperspace coordinates for Coruscant, and felt the familiar jolt as his ship soared through hyperspace toward its destination.

Curiosity as to how the RP was faring made me come here. Once I saw things were going bad again, I figured I'd comment on the fact that conflict isn't going to make the issue magically resolved. I didn't insult anyone, and if I did, I apologized. I tried to make it very clear that I was commenting simply as an observer, and no offence whatsoever was intended. An RP is supposed to be for fun, but from the looks of things, not many people are having fun. Fueling the fire isn't going to make it any better. I've said what I came here to say, and will take my leave. Again, I apologize if I offended anyone, that was not my intention.

If you're done trying to save this RP, and if you quit the RP, then why do you continue to post here?

I brougth up the rules because he seemed to take pride in the fact that he insulted Flex, and claimed such on the site, which has rules against insulting members. Regardless, if you're truly trying to save this RP, conflict won't get you there.

Personally insulting a member doesn't help fix the RP. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's against the rules, isn't it?

I don't know much about all of you, and as a result my opinions of you as people hold little to no weight, because I have no frame of reference, since I have no judge of character. Reading this, however, there's something I feel should be said. I've known Flex for about three years, now. I participated in an several RPs with him, all of which he made, some X-Men RPs and others original ideas he created himself. Throughout these three years, I've had no problems whatsoever with how he lead things. Everyone was always satisfied with the way the story was playing out, and if we disagreed on something, we'd discuss it and reach a middle ground. Am I saying Flex is perfect? No. Nobody's perfect, but I've never had a dispute with him over an RP like this, nor has anyone else he's RP'd with, and we've had groups as large as this one. I joined this X-Men forum a while back, but quickly left because I wasn't a fan of the style. I have no issues with any of you personally. Again, I don't know any of you, so I can't be a judge of character, but I can say that a good portion of you are guilty of a few of the things you're giving Flex heat for. We're trying to write a story here, with believable, compelling characters and a solid plot. While most of you would agree with this, I'm sure, that's not what I saw in the RP thread. What I saw was a spotlight contest. Nobody seemed to work with each other, majority of the time, you were all trying to make your characters look cool and do cool things, as opposed to writing a story. This is a very poor format for a group of writers claiming to want to write a solid plot. I can't judge any of your writing skills based solely off of one RP, therefore I am not insulting your skills as a writer, it would be impossible for me to do such, I'm simply stating an observation. I've also been in a few skype chats, even if I was relatively quiet in them, and I've noticed that you all claim Flex s the reason this RP is going downhill, that he's an unfair GM and you've all done nothing to deserve it. I don't remember which member it was, or if said member is even still posting here, but a certain member posted a colossal essay as to why Flex was an unfit GM. Several comments had to do with examples that were relevant to the topic of his being a poor GM, but there was also a number of personal insults, including a jab about an ex-girlfriend of his. That was entirely unnecessary. It is not that serous. I hope you're all aware that this is supposed to be for fun. You are in no way obligated to stay here. If you truly have a problem with the way Flex is running things, you can leave. You do not have to exert this much effort into something you both don't want to do and are not required to do. You're all acting as though you want to be over this issue and "save" the RP, to continue doing what you're doing and having fun, yet none of you are making an effort to do so. Instead, you are continuing to feed into the confrontation, laying into Flex, insulting him, going on rants about what wasn't fair and threatening to leave. You don't have to make the threat, you can just leave. I didn't particularly care for the way things were going in this RP, so I just left. It really isn't that difficult. It appears that you're all more concerned with making your points, threats, and demands seem more serious than they actually are, instead of actually trying to resolve the conflict. Majority of you are just insulting Flex for the sake of insulting him, instead of coming up with suggestions or actions you can to that would save the RP, something you claim that you want to do. It doesn't seem all that convincing. From the looks of things, it seems like you've had problems with Flex, and this one event pushed a few members over the edge, and the rest saw this as an opportunity to vent out their frustration on the GM and have it be justified at the same time. Flex said he was willing to help and retcon the things you have a problem with. Even if you don't trust him because a similar event happened in the past, you always have the option of leaving and starting an RP of your own. There is absolutely no need to make all this drama over something as trivial as a communal fanfiction. It really isn't as big a deal as you're all making it. I did not come here to try and "save" Flex. I came here to see how the RP was doing so far, and stumbled upon this spat. You all have valid points. Flex included. But if you seriously want to work past this conflict, then do it. Don't drag on with unnecessary drama. You have a problem? Try and change it. That doesn't work? Leave. You've got no obligation, this is supposed to be a recreational, fun activity. If it isn't, fun anymore like you claim, why are you still here? You all claim to want to be done with this issue

IC: Lendo Dral (Nar Shaddaa) Nar Shaddaa was a pit. The central hub of the crime underworld, full of just about every criminal, crook, and straight up psychopath out there. Scum and villainy seemed to ooze out of the cracks in the walls, and the air was thick with smog, the skies tinged a dull yellow from the nearest sun. The streets were alive, crowded with people of all different races, circulating through the densely populated, neon city, rushing off to their own destinations. The chatter of multiple languages filled the air as deals were made and broken. Both laughter of new deals being formed and the angry cries of partnerships being broken resonated throughout the area, but most of the commotion was focused in a nearby cantina, the Hutt's Den. A small pub filled to its capacity with the most wretched individuals the galaxy had to offer. Bounty hunters, smugglers, petty thieves, and criminals all sat together at tables, pulled up stools at bars and discussed their ambitions, or reminisced about successful runs or heists to their drunken comrades. Amongst this massive crowd of scum, Lendo Dral surveyed the area. He sat in the darkest corner of the room. He always preferred to sit in the corner. In the corner you could see everyone, and nobody could sneak up on you. He hated surprises. In Lendo's line of work, surprises were often deadly. The bounty hunter held a drink in his hand and brought it to his lips as he scanned around, observing the many conversations going on around him. The music in the cantina was blaring, and made distinguishing any conversation around him impossible. It all sounded like unintelligible chatter being dominated by the blasting beats and chords of the music. Lendo was never really a fan of crowds, especially in Nar Shaddaa. He always tried to avoid Nar Shaddaa when he could, but times were tough. His supply of credits was starting to dry up and he needed work, fast. This criminal cesspool of a moon always guaranteed work, though Lendo would hardly consider it safe. Not many people would. He adjusted his leather coat and tilted the brim of his hat over his eyes as he leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his drink. Normally when he waited in this hole of a cantina, a contract would present itself in the form of a stranger asking if he was working. He always was. He'd been waiting for quite some time, however, and nothing had come to him. Lendo wasn't a patient man, and considered heading back to his ship, maybe giving the old girl a few touch ups with what little credits he had remaining, or finally getting around to calibrating the second turret. One thing was for sure, the past few months have been unbearably boring.

Am I good to post, or does my profile still need work?

Alright, now I think everything should be in order.

Alright, I think everything should be in order now.

I was thinking of giving him an astromech droid. Would that go under his personal equipment, or ship equipment?

I've edited again. Is everything in order?

My bad. I edited. Better?

Hello, all. I'd like to join. Here's my character. Sorry if this is supposed to go somewhere else. Name: Lendo DralSpecies: Human Gender: Male Age: 26Faction: None currently Sympathies: The Republic. He supports their efforts and wants them to succeed, even if their duties make his job more difficult. Rank: N/A Occupation: Smuggler and Bounty HunterSkills: Crack shot with most blasters, though he is more comfortable with pistols than rifles. Very well versed in starship functions and repairs. He can also hold his own with a vibro sword, and is a skilled hacker.Force Abilities: NoneEquipment or Weapons: A set of durasteel battle armor. Two modified DL-44 heavy blaster pistols. Grappling hook integrated into right gauntlet, one Echani vibro blade with, a pair of goggles with an integrated targeting system for accuracy, and a miniature blaster implanted in his left gauntlet, that fires once per charge; used as a last resort. Also has an R4 astromech droid, used for ship maintenance and turret operation if needed. Appearance: Lendo wears a wide brimmed hat (Similar to the one Cad Bane wears), with his special targeting goggles strapped around, resting just above the brim. He wears a long, tattered leather coat over his durasteel battle armor. He has dark brown skin, steel grey eyes, 5 o'clock shadow and an X shaped scar on his left cheek. Personality: Lendo Dral is very good at his job. While he may despise the Republic authority because they make his job difficult, he respects the soldiers and what they stand for, and has nothing but contempt for the Mandalorians. He's a cunning fighter who'll do just about anything if the money's right. Home Planet: Coruscant History: Lendo was born on Coruscant to two Republic soldier parents. They were killed on duty when he was very young, killed in a Mandalorian Guerrilla strike. forcing him to live in an orphanag. Even as a child, he was hot headed and somewhat arrogant. When he came of age, he attempted to join the Republic ranks, but his hot temper proved to be his demise, and was discharged at boot camp after getting into a fight with one of his comrades. Afterwords, he found work as a ship mechanic in one of the more shady parts of Coruscant. Many smuggler and bounty hunter ships would come in for repairs. One of which was a notorious local gang of raiders, whose leader Lendo got along well with. The leader, Sal Contro, offered Lendo a position on his crew, and seeing his mechanic life as more of a dead end than a career, Lendo jumped at the opportunity. Lendo served the pirate crew for three years, until one fateful heist. Unbeknownst to Lendo, Sal intended to betray Lendo and leave him on a republic ship they were going to raid, so the troops would be busy arresting Lendo, giving his gang a chance to escape/ After they got the supplies, Sal attacked Lendo, scarring his face and left him to be picked up by the Republic soldiers. Unfortunately for Sal, he taught Lendo far more than he should have. Lendo managed to stave off the oncoming forces and steal a ship, heading back home to Coruscant. He returned to the ship mechanic he worked for, and with the money he'd earned in his time spent with Sal, bought a cheap ship, and attempted to make it out on his own as a bounty hunter and smuggler. Lendo spent the next five years making a name for himself as a bounty hunter, remaining a freelancer to have a wider range of options. The war meant enemies, and enemies meant contracts, and contracts meant money. He lives on his ship and is currently docked in Nar Shaddaa. Ship Name: The NemesisModel: YT 1250Function: Light FreighterWeapons: Two standard double laser cannon gun turrets, requires an operator for use.Modifications: Fitted with many hidden storage spaces for smuggling operations, and a stealth generator that masks its heat emissions. It won't show up on a radar, but if someone looks out a window it'll be seen clear as day. This function can only work for a short time. Its shields are moderate at best, but it has extra armor plating, making it more durable than most light freighters. Background: Formerly the ship of mechanic Dax Ulton from his old adventuring days, the owner of a starship repair garage in the slums of Coruscant. After hearing that his old employee and unofficial apprentice had run into trouble in his smuggling career, he gladly sold his ship to him.

IC, West: West paused for a moment and smirked. "The more, the merrier." He said. "I'll have my men send you the coordinates to one of our outposts. We're in the midst of a massive overhaul of our organization. I hope you and your soldiers are ready to do some serious work." IC, Ingram: Ingram exited the van and entered the hangar bay of Outpost 17-B. The drone was carted in after him and laid out on an examining table, where several researchers began to scan it. "Amazing..." one of them mumbled. "Absolutely incredible."

OOC: Sorry I've been out for a bit, had a few life events to take care of. IC, West: He was getting used to his mechanical arm. It was numb and moved stiffly, but he'd get the hang of it sooner or later. Right now, he just wanted to focus on making that mutant pay. After receiving word that the drone had been captured, West was about to head out to examine it, when his communicator went off. "We need to talk." The female voice said. West paused. "Alright. Talk."

IC: Ingram Ingram eyed the drone curiously, making sure it was completely out. "Get this thing in the van." he ordered. "West wants to see this thing personally."

IC: West West paused when he was sent an image of the drone. It didn't match any known designs in the Enforcer database, it was completely foreign. "Recover it, try to keep it as in tact as possible and send it to Outpost 17-B." He ordered. "Yes, sir." Ingram responded. With that, the comm channel went off. West then sat at his desk, pushing his computer aside so he had a wide clear space. He then opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a collection of tools, ripping off his right sleeve and setting his mechanical arm down. It was time for some upgrades. IC: Ingram Just as he killed the channel, the drone stirred and its thrusters activated. "Keep that thing down!" He ordered. Instantly several Enforcers fired a barrage of electro-nets at it, hoping to keep the drone subdued.

IC: West The world was a blur as West fell in and out of consciousness. The van had moved him to one of the many Enforcer bases, rushed to the medical ward, and was rushed into surgery immediately. He wasn't awake for most of it, luckily, but when he slipped into consciousness, he could feel the flaming hot pain where his right arm used to be. He felt saws, scalpels, needles, and several other medical instruments work on his injury. Words like "Critical condition" and "infection" were thrown around, but he couldn't catch any context. He then felt something cold and metal touch his wound, and a searing sharp pain penetrate the back of his neck, where the skull and spine went. The pain was so intense he passed out for good. "Mister Sheen, can you hear me?" A voice asked. West wanted to answer, but his throat was dry and rough. It felt like it was made of sandpaper. He simply nodded. "He's regained consciousness." Another voice said. "Release the restraints." Instantly West felt the tightness in his chest ease as the leather straps were removed from him. He instantly opened his eyes and sat bolt upright, a startled scream escaping his mouth as the pain flooded back. The machines monitoring his conditions went went haywire as his vitals spiked and the medics moved to calm him down. "Sir, you need to relax. Your wounds haven't fully healed yet." The head doctor said. West took several breaths and looked around. They were at Enforcer Outpost 17-B. A discreet base on the edges of the city. "How long was I out?" He asked, his voice hoarse. "Quite some time. You sustained heavy injuries in the battle, we did the best we could to patch you up." The doctor explained. West tried to remember what happened, and was hit with a sudden realization. His arm. He turned and looked at his body, seeing several severe looking wounds that had been heavily bandaged, but most surprising was his arm. It was torn off by Pietro, and was no more. Instead, a prosthetic, mechanical arm took its place. It looked nearly skeletal in appearance. West tried to move it. Even though he couldn't physically feel it, it seemed heavy. He slowly made a fist and rose it to eye level, examining it. "We couldn't save your arm, I'm sorry." The doctor said apologetically. West simply nodded and swung his legs off the bed, pulling off all the wires and IVs attached to him. He was a bit shakey, but in no time, he was on his feet. "And the mutants?" He asked, ignoring his injuries for now. "We've captured quite a few, but there were some who escaped." The doctor explained. West slowly nodded, frustration building within him. Every time they made a plan, every move they made, the Mutants were always a step ahead. West let out a frustrated roar and punched a nearby monitor with his prosthetic arm, sending it flying into a wall, shattering into pieces. He then exited the infirmary and headed toward his office, in nothing but bandages and shorts. Several Enforcers stopped to salute him, others simply got out of his way, sensing his anger. He entered his office and quickly put on some clothes in the wardrobe, flexing his prosthetic arm once more. They'd implanted a chip in his spine that gave him full control, but it would still take some getting used to. He would definitely have to make some upgrades to it, this was patch work at best. He opened up his computer terminal and read through several mission reports about the mutants escaping and the other mutants they'd managed to capture. West cursed in his mind. If they wanted any chance, any chance at all in stopping the mutant threat, the Enforcers branch would have to endure a serious overhaul. It was time to take off the kid gloves. It was time to get serious. He activated his intercom, contacting his assistant. "Contact all research teams for a meeting. We've got a lot of work to do." he said. The assistant complied, and West was about to head back out when he got a call. He activated his intercom once more. "Report, soldier." He said. IC: Ingram Ingram was sent on another recon mission after the raid on the Brotherhood mansion. He'd barely gotten a good hour's worth of sleep before he managed to scarf down a decent meal and head on out on his next assignment. Apparently something had crashed, the Enforcers wanted to investigate. The put him in charge of the scouting platoon. He expected to see a large meteor, or debris from an old satellite. What he saw, however, was something completely, completely different. He grabbed his communicator and contacted Enforcers headquarters, where he was instantly re-directed to West. He was surprised their leader was on his feet already. "Sir?" he asked. "Report, soldier." Came the slightly weaker, yet still professional tone of West. "We've got something." He said, looking at the crashed probe along with the rest of his squad. It was destroyed, and flaming, but even by the looks of it, it was something far more advance than anything any of them had ever seen. "Something big..."

IC: West West didn't even have time to yell. Before he realized what was happening, his rifle fell from his hands and his right arm went numb. It happened so fast, he hardly felt it. His right arm went numb, and suddenly, it was in front of him, severed from his body. His eyes widened in shock as his own limb was rammed into his chest. West flew backwards, skidding along the pavement and bleeding profusely. He stumbled to his feet, grabbing his plasma sword and quickly pressing it against the large wound where his arm used to be, sealing it with its intense heat and stopping the bleeding. He then fell to the ground, unconscious. IC: Ingram and Alenko "Holy !" Alenko yelled as he saw West soar toward them. He sprinted to his leader, Ingram right behind him and watched as he sealed his wound and passed out. Ingram turned and waved down the nearest van, clearing out the captive mutants inside of it and stuffing them into another. Alenko and Ingram then both picked up West and his severed arm and put him into the van. "Headquarters, now!" Ingram yelled to the driver. Instantly the van sped off, away from the battlefield. Alenko removed West's helmet and felt for a pulse. It was incredibly weak, but there. ", he doesn't look to good." He mumbled. "We're in for one wild night." Ingram added.

IC: Ingram Ingram was struck in the chest by a bullet from a gunman he didn't even see. He was knocked on his back just as more mutants arrived and rescued the two he'd captured. He got to his feet and saw no one there. " it." He mumbled as he tried to activate his suit's thermal vision. It was too badly damaged to work. He switched back to standard vision and doubled back to the entrance to aid in rounding up the rest of the mutants. IC: West West opened his comm channel to respond to Hecka."Necessary casualties, soldier. You'd do well to hold your tongue and know your place." He said bitterly. He then saw that the ship was departing. Kicking his jets into high gear, he soared toward it, rifle at the ready, taking aim at Pietro once again and firing, hoping that he'd catch him off guard since he was moving the ship. IC: Alenko Alenko closed the door of a van full of mutants and watched it drive off. He turned and saw Ingram doing the same thing with another van. "You get those mutants?" he asked. Ingram shook his head. "They got lucky. Some other mutants came to their rescue and I got outmatched." He said, a hint of anger in his voice. "I ever see them again, It's over."

IC, Ingram: "I need a squad on my coordinates." He said through his comm channel as he threw another flashbang grenade to where the mutants had stopped. Just because he'd hit them, didn't mean they weren't beaten, he had to be precautionary here. He carefully approached the mutants, rifle in hand, aimed down sights at the male mutant's head. "Stay down and nobody gets hurt." He said. IC, West and the Sentinels: West watched as a helicopter blade flew through one of the Sentinel's heads. The massive machine toppled to the ground like a tower that had been struck at its base. It was showtime. "Resisting submission, retaliation initiated." The rest of the Sentinels said simultaniously. With that, they all aimed their palms at the ship Pietro was on, and opened fire. Several took to the skies while others stayed on the ground, following their programmed attack patterns. West smirked and flew toward the battlefield, hovering above the scene and drawing his sniper. He aimed for Pietro, the leader, resting the crosshairs between his eyes and fired.

IC: Ingram Ingram activated his chaingun and opened fire on the mutants ahead of him. He then readied his rifle while his chaingun continued to fire and shot short, controlled bursts, aimed for Nate's legs specifically while his chaingun let loose a wild spray of rounds in an attempt to lower the probability of dodging. IC: Alenko Alenko was blown away in the crossfire of the following battles, taking a stray fireball from Scorcher in the chest and being sent out of the window. He would've gone splat if he hadn't activated his jets at the last second. He was about to fly back up there when his Comm channel opened up. "All available units, re converge at the entrance to aid in rounding the surviving mutants up." an Enforcer's voice crackled over his speaker. Alenko flew toward the entrance of the building and saw several Enforcer vans, with captured mutants being herded into them. He decided to help, convinced that West could handle himself. He was the boss, after all. West doged Scorcher's attacks, hiding behind cover as the fire mutant fought with the SHIELD agent. "Alright, this has gone on long enough." He said as he opened his comm channel. "Send in the big guns." West ordered. "Thought you'd never ask, sir." Replied the deployment officer. Minutes later, the sky was filled with the sound of jets. West looked up and saw two dozen vapor trails fly through the sky, landing on their position. A platoon of Sentinels had landed, surrounding the area, their deep purple, emotionless faces scanning the scene and confirming Mutant presence. "Warning: Mutants, submit to the Enforcers, or face elimination. You have thirty seconds to comply." They all said simultaneously as they raised their arms and prepped their weapons. West slammed a fresh clip into his rifle, surveying the area, hoping this would be the trump card that would end the battle.

IC, Alenko and Ingram: Alenko felt a sudden shock overload his armor and send him to the ground. Ingram managed to dodge the arrow and watched as another mutant rescued their victim. "Go back up Sheen, I've got these two!" Ingram yelled to Alenko as he struggled to his feet. Ingram sprinted after Nate, throwing a flashbang grenade at him and fully polarized his visor to avoid its effects. He then opened fire with his rifle. Alenko turned and ran in the opposite direction, heading toward an upper level in an attempt to get to West. IC, West: West took the full brunt of the fire attacks, feeling heat envelope him entirely. Parts of his suit overloaded, and he was forced to retreat back against the wall, activating several failsafes. He opened fire with his desert eagle once more, when Alenko came to his aid. "Ingram's taking care of two other mutants sir, I'm here to help." Alenko said as he opened fire on Scorcher.

IC, West: West was slammed against the wall by Schorcher's flame whip. He instinctively grabbed his desert eagle and opened fire, hoping the explosive rounds would keep him at bay. He saw that his grenade was deflected by an arrow that belonged to another mutant. He was now facing off against three mutants. He opened up his comm channel. "I need backup on my position." he demanded. "Roger that, Sir. Ingram and I are on the way." replied a voice that had a slight New York-Italian accent. West just had to hold off until they arrived. He quickly grabbed two flash grenades and threw them at the mutants, spinning around and turning away from the blinding light, loading another clip. He noticed the young blonde mutant make a run for it, but did nothing to stop her. The other Enforcers would take care of it. For now, Scorcher was his biggest concern. He opened fire on him once more with cryo rounds. ___ IC: Andrew Alenko and Todd Ingram(NPCs) "Come on, Sheen's location is just around this-- what the ?" Alenko asked as he saw someone running off. "It's a mutant!" Ingran exclaimed. Alenko and Ingram took off after her, aiming their rifles at her and opening fire.