[h3][right]Melech - The Trudger, Flying over Beck's Skiff, Jundland Wastes[/right][/h3]
[hr]

"Son of a-!" Melech yelled as he pulled the slug from his leg. His left hand contained a powerful electromagnet at the end of the middle finger. Its original intent was grabbing small metal pieces that slipped out of reach. However, even as he had designed it, Melech could recall having this exact situation in mind. Though, if he was being honest, he'd originally imagined a nail-gun being involved.

He'd gotten onto his back as quickly as he could. The wound wasn't life threatening, but infection was a real threat. So, closing his eyes, he had had to move his hand down his calf, until his finger sunk into the wound. That alone had him cursing and biting holes into his shirt collar. When he finally pulled his hand away, though, that was a new kind of pain. Effectively, he had grabbed the bullet and yanked it back out of the wound. Likely as not, he had caused as much damage taking it out as it had caused when it went in.

"Fuck! Gah, finally, it's out. Now, just bring me the- the...Uhhh..." Without thinking, he had lifted his hand up to look at the slug. Unlike his other limbs, fixing this one left his hand coated in blood. The site of it alone was enough to make him hesitate, but seeing it glisten on his fingers, watching it start to pool on the floor of his ship as it pumped out of his leg; It was all too much. Everything went black, his last vision the roof of his ship as his head hit the floor.

He was woken up by the feeling of antiseptic foam being injected into his wound. Luckily, the mercenaries were smart enough to find his first aid kit, and at least one of them could read the instructions. Once the foam hardened, the bleeding stopped. Someone had put something on his head. Whatever it was-the scent made him think a wet rag-it covered his field of view long enough to tell them all to sop up the blood. Chances were, he wouldn't hear the end of this little incident until he was off this planet. This kind of phobia didn't usually just jump out of people's minds.

Of course, he could always blast it out. Once the floor was clean, he told everyone to move away from the door. Grabbing one of the shells from the bandoleer around his torso. Yanking the massive gun off his back, he cocked it open long enough to slide the round into the chamber. Moving around, the braced himself with one leg against the base of a huge 3D printer, and the gun firmly in his right hand. With that arm bent at the elbow along his side, his weight on top of it, he gripped his other onto it with a vice setting just after the trigger guard. Taking aim, he grimaced, knowing full well what was coming.

When the hammer fell, his arm felt like it was going to come off; Just like usual. The massive round sailed forward, a bright blue light flashing against the surface of the door as he blew it open. As he expected, the hinge shattered under the huge force, forcing the door to hang open. It was now held on only by the braces, and only barely at that. Looking out, he could see one of the enemies. It fired in at them, and Melech could only grin as the little slug fizzled on his heavy shields.

In seconds, the mercs had taken up their stances. Each unloaded rounds into the target, peppering his hiding place until he was dead. When he saw the kill shot, Melech clicked his tongue three times, the signal for Beeps to move on. Which is what they did. Over and over, the shuttle moved, going from target to target. With each move of his ship, another enemy was taken out, unable to offer a counter assault, falling under the onslaught of firepower all the mercenaries could pour onto it. Before long, half of the enemy's numbers had been taken out. Melech himself was busy trying to make his way back up to the deck when a massive blast slammed against the ship's shields. When he saw his shield stutter, he cursed, knowing he needed to get his ass back to the main deck. "Beeps, we've got a new target to find. Prep the scanners for me!"