trans_9 | The thing you should know is that everyone is in really big trouble. Yeah. Even you.

Tobias was struggling as he usually did with how to eat what Marco would call "the goo of the day" with a beak. It was never easy. He also wans't sure whether to be tense about the yeerks being around and not knowing who to trust, or happy to be able to kick some yeerk butt. At least he was fairly sure Ax was okay. Like most Andalites, he'd die by his own blade before he'd be infested.

< So what species is he? I've seen symbiotes but not like hiim before > Tobias asked. At least this one wasn't as annoying as the last symbionts he'd met, the Iskoort.

"Wh-what?" Chris says fumblingly, taken aback at Pat's sudden outburst in his direction. It's distracting enough he doesn't quite pick up on the presence of the psychic bird just yet...

Pat hears someone else add to the conversation, but he's a little busy attempting to wrangle his bodyguest to focus on it much. He sniffs the air himself, picking up on the scent of blood as well-the joys of having a symbiote-enhanced sense of smell. Looks like Toxin's right.

"There's blood somewhere," he says to Chris, frowning at Toxin as the symbiote keeps snuffling around. He sniffs again, then adds, "Not that old, either."

< I smell it too. > His hawk instincts were rising up, and he was curious about where it was coming from. < And sorry, I forgot I'd probably catch you off guard when I talked. I guess a talking bird is wierd even here. > He wanted to offer to change forms but a controller would know what he was in an instant. It was too risky. < I was just curious about your friend. > He nodded at Toxin

Connor and Murphy are...more or less drifting around the cafeteria, and so they've only just clued into the other group. Needless to say, they have nothing useful to contribute yet. At all.

"...Is that a fucking hawk?"

Mai responds blandly, "Looks like one, doesn't it?"

Murphy reaches into his pocket, staring at the hawk. As his hand closes around what he's looking for, his wide-eyed look narrows to a hate-filled glare.

"Sounds like a fuckin' Andalite," he snarls, and with that, he throws down a sonic grenade amongst the others. Making the most of his current advantage, he dives directly for Tobias, intent on capturing the enemy before it can fly off.

Connor snarls and pulls out his Berettas, aiming for Will and Pat with a heavy spray of gunfire. He's not playing nice, it's obvious; those are aimed to kill.

Bullets are bad, but sonic grenades are worse.

While Pat and Tox are doing a halfway decent job of avoid the gunfire, with Toxin trying to heal up the bullets that do hit, the grenade is a little more problematic. Even scrambling to the best of their ability, the duo can't get out of range fast enough.

Toxin can't hold his shape against the sonic attack and goes to stringy goop with an angry shriek, while Pat just goes down-and both are out cold for the moment.

Chris has collapsed under a table, seemingly helpless, curled up on himself in a fetal position.

That one of his feet is propped against the table's base is entirely coincidental. Right?

Mai is taken completely off-guard. The sonic grenade disorients her and she tumbles back from her seat and hits the floor with a thump. She tries to pull herself upright, tries to clear her head. It's not working and instead she's crawling away, ears ringing. She has to stand up. There's a threat.

One minute they were talking about cheeseburgers (which is still something that doesn't sound appetizing at all), when everything seems to go wrong.

Sparhawk half slumps in his chair as the sonic grenade goes off, ears ringing even as his head spins. He shakes his head, trying to focus past the overwhelming noise, but it's the sound of gunfire that precipitates an immediate reaction.

Disorientated, eyes glazed and occasionally shaking his head, Sparhawk tries to make a lunge for Connor. He'll probably end up hitting a table or something, but there's people in danger.

John is quick, but he's not that quick. The grenade's not close enough for him to grab it and throw it away, and he takes the shock of the detonation like everybody else. His ears are ringing, his head throbs, but that doesn't matter. His reaction may be a little delayed, but he's moving.

With gritted teeth and a pounding skull, the Spartan draws his sidearm and fires at Murphy, the nearer brother. He's aiming for the leg. The goal is to wound, not kill. To take him out of commission.

'Where the hell is Stacy?!'

Connor spares a glance for Sparhawk, sneering. He aims a shot at him, as well, to wound only. Sparhawk would be useful.

He turns back to trying to shoot down Pat and Will.

Penelope is taking cover under one of the tables, clutching her ears.

Mai finally staggers to her feet again, swaying, almost like she's drunk. But she's up. And her eyesight isn't impaired at all (although her sense of balance is) and there's a flicker of light on steel as a trio of throwing knives appears in her hand. She staggers again, then manages to get her arms up and hurls them at Connor. She's aiming for his clothing, trying to pin him to the nearest available surface.

Of course, her aim is probably off right now, thanks to her loss of balance.

The shock of the grenade sends Billy reeling, an intense sensory overload overriding all attempts at analysis for almost a minute. The only instinct that registers in his brain is to move, move, MOVE. There won't be time to think if you die first, Billy.

Finally, he manages to re-orient himself in a world of flying knives and bullets. When did the crew become so vengeful and violent? Highly disadvantageous situation. Without a weapon, all he can really do is flip out of the way. For now, there's a dark shape diving around the tables, all the while trying to organize his priorities:

1. Locate and attempt to utilize a large distraction or environmental disturbance that has the capacity to disrupt the battle.
2. Find allies. Hopefully there's someone left who still doesn't prefer to make attempts on their lives. And while he's at it, he could try to figure out why this is happening too.
3. A weapon for defense would be a favorable asset as well.

||Connor and Murphy MacManus, cease acts of violence on your crew-mates at--||

The tentacles that had flickered into being to save them all suddenly flicker and disappear.

For some reason, it's right then that the lights on the ship--everywhere in the ship--suddenly flicker. They just flicker, then come back on. Odd.

However, Stacy's voice doesn't chime up again.

The red and black goop twitches only slightly at first, twitches more, and finally reforms as Toxin comes to first. Pat follows soon after, but it's the symbiote who seizes control as soon as he reforms, forcing himself onto all fours.

With a snarl he lunges towards Connor, ignoring the fact that he catches several bullets on the way-and the moment, he's operating off of sheer rage, Pat's adrenaline, and the deep and profound desire to use Connor as a chewtoy.

Tobias rakes and bites the arms diving toward around him, managing to keep them from closing around him entirely. He lifts off, confused, knocked nearly senseless by the grenade for a moment. He is flying blindly for a few moments, all hawk in his blind panic. After a few seconds he regains his bearings, pumping to get altitude as he tries to orient himself.

Shots are flying widly though and he feels one graze against his wing.

< That's it, I am definately making sure you slugs get your butts kicked > he growls in his mind. He can't move quickly enough to keep away from the shots, he can only hope he's lucky as he goes in for a dive at the controller who tried to grab him. He knows who it is because of the scratches he already gave the man.

(hope that works okay)

Murphy shouts in pain as he's mauled, and when the andalite scum gets away he immediately reaches for his gun.

In the chaos he fails to see John and move out of the way; the shot hits and his leg buckles. "FUCK!"

Down on one knee, he aims to shoot at the bird, just to ground him, but then lurches. A glance, angry hatred slipping to pure terror for a split second, and he's jerkily throwing himself at Toxin, to intercept before the creature reaches Connor.

The shot from Connor takes Sparhawk high in the left shoulder. At first he just feels the impact, but then the pain kicks in. He'd say it was worse than being stabbed and cut, but he's too busy swearing in Trollish.

Even as he's gathering himself, he's testing his shoulder as he draws his broadsword. Hurts like hell but he should still be able to fight.

The silver bound hilt feels like an old friend as he holds it. As Connor appears to be about to be eaten, Sparhawk turns his attention, and his sword, towards Murphy.

"Yield, neighbour?" he asks as its the knightly thing to do, but even as he says it he's swinging a blow with the flat of his sword towards Murphy, trying to stop him before he reaches Toxin.

Connor drops to the floor as Toxin rushes at him, dodging the knives but knowing it would be harder to get away from the symbiote. Arms up and over his head, he quickly considers his options before he becomes dinner. Controller or no, the yeerk obviously knows when defense and retreat is better.

"Fuck! Murph! Get the andalite and let's go!" He's already rolling out of the way, planning on sprinting his way back to the safety of the yeerk pool.

Sparhawk's blow connects and Murphy falls to the floor, skidding slightly further away from Toxin.

Quickly righting himself, his eyes are on Sparhawk; large, sharp, pointy thing is getting most of his attention right now. But his words are for Connor, "You fuckin' get it! It's fuckin' flying around tryin' to fuckin' kill me, ye fuckin' arse! Thanks for the fuckin' help!"

Mai is pissed, even if her face isn't showing it. She's not really that happy at all. Because she just got attacked. She's recovering now and her aim is improving.

"I don't think so."

She sends another volley of knives after Connor. She's not aiming to kill - yet.

The thing you should know is that everyone is in really big trouble. Yeah. Even you.

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