Stripped of her weapon, Lisbeth felt chastised for a moment, but before she had time to mope the order came to come through the door, and as it lifted she followed her leader underneath the door. A las-beam cut across her line of vision and left her momentarily blinded, and aggressive training kicked in, driving her onwards toward the source of the beam. Move fast, low, and jerk - she banked hard to the left, where one of the players had rised from their seat. Her momentum carried her into him, and before either could react they were in a tangle upon the floor, exchanging blows. His hand struck her across the face twice, busting her lip with the first strike and breaking the skin around her cheek on the second. Something hot in her mouth radiated across her tongue as a third blow came, but this time she raised her head and clamped her jaw around his palm, a scream ringing out as he struggled. His other hand moved to rescue it's counterpart, and that left his holster open. With a swift grab, Lisbeth tore the pistol out from the leather case and twisted her hand, forced to pull the trigger with her thumb into his midriff. 

He grunted, and two more shots rang out as slugs ripped through his torso, and on the fourth yank of the trigger he was already dead, slumped on top of Lisbeth, his warm breath against her neck set her spine tingling, like maggots crawling through her bones. [i]Move. Speed is life.[/i] Matron Deangelis' lessons rang in her ear as she made a great effort, heaving against the fallen guard's mass. As she lifted, two more las-rounds blasted the fallen guard's back, and the sizzle of burned meat displaced the stink of his breath in her nostrils. With a kick, she extricated herself and dashed for the the overturned table. It wouldn't hold for long against the lasguns, but it would buy her a few seconds to exchange shots and hopefully distract the shooters long enough for another of her sisters to take them out.

She [i]badly[/i] missed her sword.