“I can’t tell for sure,” Junebug declared as she shimmied back into concealment between the two towering buildings. On the Smugglers Moon it was impossible to tell how many stories up you were, there was no  objective ‘ground’ by which to judge. From Sayeeda’s position they appeared to be about three stories above the street across from the hangar where the Highlander was berthed.

“But there must be fifty of them out there,” she concluded. The three of them were in a gap between towers that must have once held cabling or plumbing, but had rotted away to an open semi cylinder of ancient concrete. Water, or at least fluid, run off had pitted and slicked the channel, but not to the point that it was impassable. Saxon crouched beside Neil his lips pulled back into a snarl that might or might not have been contempt.

“Why do they not storm the hangar and take the ship?” Saxon spat. Junebug exchanged a look with Neil. The Pilot had a lot of explaining to be do once they were safe, but it would have to wait. The tactical situation was fairly simple, the longer the gave Gnorlac’s goons to hunt for them the worse their chances of escaping became. Unfortunately charging through fifty armed men resulted in even worse odds.

“Judging by the heat signatures coming from the hangar, Taya is running the plasma motors so they cant get in,” Junebug supplied. It was a smart move, burning the thrusters at low output would fill the hanger with plasma discharge at a temperature of several hundred degrees. The hangar was built to survive such abuse, but lightly armed gangsters would not fare so well. Unfortunately the Highlander didn’t have fuel reserves to keep up such a trick forever. Even if the hydraulic lines were still connected, the thrusters would cut out eventually. The EM discharge was also blanking the comms.

“Let us tear our way through them!” the Hex snarled, flexing his clawed fingers menacingly. Sayeeda arched an eyebrow. It was difficult to judge if the suggestion was a serious one, or merely and expression of frustration. Gnorlac’s men had certainly taken Saxon’s ship already and there seemed little reason to hope they could take it back.

“We have two pistols and twelve rounds between us,” Junebug pointed out. The weapons they had brought to the meet had been for emergencies, not to fight a running battle in the streets. Saxon’s own weapon might have made such an attack practical, but it was hopelessly jammed and would require tools to repair.

“Also, I don’t have anyway to let Taya know to cut the thrusters, also even if she did the concrete is going to be heated to several hundred degrees, more than we can stand without more battledress than we have.”

“What do you suggest then?” the lizard spat.

“We need weapons, and we need to get a link to the Highlander, either laser or microwave, maybe if we could get onto the hangar roof?”