Suddenly the room exploded with bangs and shouts as a door burst open. A figure rudely ran through the crowd, shoving beings out of the way. A blurry bari followed right after. They weaved around, leaping onto platforms and swinging from vines that took them ever-closer to an exit on the opposite side.
Being a highly trained reservist in his perhaps former life aboard Chiron, Scott D’Amour indelicately dropped his sphincter instrument and flattened to the floor as he pulled a pistol from his pocket. The thin, compact weapon telescoped out on command and expertly he sighted. He debated whether or not it was appropriate for him to shoot until he saw that it was the Councillor of Military Matters Petmar in pursuit. Luckily, the crowd was backing away from the runners as much as possible, so just as the fugitive was swinging towards an exit door from a mid-level platform, he got a clear shot.
Scott’s Shock pistol sent a narrow ray of sizzling energy exactly where he’d wanted. With an electric crackle, the bari arched with shock and fell. It was only then that Scott could see a face through his magnifying scope. A shockwave went through him as well, though he didn’t drop from it like his target.
“Ok, the excitement’s over,” Ramone called through his mic. “This next song is one my clone wrote a lot of years ago.” He launched into a raucous piece, and the crowd settled and returned their attention to the stage.
For the love of the galaxy, Scott thought. The show must go on. He gave Ramone a wave and slithered over to the ladder so as not to disrupt the show. He wasn’t officially a soldier here, or anywhere for that matter, but he should make a report.
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