Trychon turned around only to see the Outlander club coming up VERY quickly... and there was a group of men in front of it, although he couldn't get a good look at them. Fearing a collision, Trychon hopped down into the seat again, watching the impending wall grow closer.
Suddenly, a river of fire opened up from a turret in the middle of the group, right as Raezyr made a sharp turn into one of the many allys... and then brought the bike to a halt with a slight bit of help from the building.
Despite wincing in pain I can't imagine how Raezyr feels Trychon managed to get out of the sidecar and help his driver off of the bike as well.
He peaked his head out around the corner ever to get a look and see if they were advancing on them. He got a quick look before a row of large red bolts struck the corner of the wall as he retreated. He was stung in the face by a few glowing chunks of wall.
"FUCK. I don't think I'll be blocking that blaster..."
He'd gotten a decent enough look though and had seen that there was roughly five or six men there. The good news seemed to be that they were willing to stay behind the safety of their mounted weapon. Not exactly the high point he was hoping for... but certainly better than nothing. He could hear them chuckling and heckling him from around the corner, but he knew he had at least a moment to think.
Then he heard a more familiar voice... "Oh mighty Sith!" A few intermittent chuckles followed. "I'm here for my property! I want what was stolen from me by your friend after I'd rightfully stolen it first myself!"
Trychon braved another quick check around the corner, and sure enough... to the left of the group and the gun was the grey haired JERK that must have sold them out.
He took a little bit less debris this time, but the sting added to the anger he already felt at being two-timed. He ran to the speeder bike... and pushed it around manually so it faced out of the alley. He gave it a cursory inspection as he did so and noted that it was as good as done for... trash.
That would be plenty for him... all he needed right now really... rocket propelled trash would work fine. He hopped into the driver seat and ignited the engines. He smiled as they came on. Only lucky break all day... He hit the throttle and sent himself flying out into the street. It took all his weight and strength to coerce it into the turn he needed... but it worked. He was headed right for that blasted gun.
Red flashes met the front of his 'vehicle' and burst into flames as he shot toward the men. He could see their eyes grow as he shot towards them and they took a hesitant step back. With the last 20 meters to go, he flipped off the back of the bike and watched the bike explode into the stationary weapon.
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