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SUMMARY: The beginning of a probably much more lengthy story that I'm working on. A thief of sorts finds himself in a setup and must make a desperate run for safety.

"Well this is a total bof-up," Stryler growled through gritted teeth as he hunched behind a cargo storage pod with the dull thunk of force beams resonating against its opposite side. This should have been a simple job. Track down the lost merchandise in the freight system computer, go in and grab the package and deliver it unopened. The package turned out to be in a warehouse in a low volume port on a half deserted planet in a far flung system. There was little chance that there'd be a whole lot of activity around the place.

So much for that. Stryler glanced down at his force rifle, checking the charge and temp levels with a practiced glance. Satisfied, he took a deep breath and kicked out from his squatting position with all the force he could manage. Though he never saw it, he was certain that he felt the whoosh of air caused by a force beam narrowly missing his torso as he flew through open space. Then he was down again, sliding across the smooth metallic floor behind another pod. Those augments were sure going to pay for themselves today, he decided as he rolled and rose to his feet, turning to run. Boots thumped against the floor behind him and just once another beam shot by. He kept running, not bothering to look back. If he didn't make it back to the hopper it wouldn't matter much if they shot him now or later. Besides, if they were following standard enforcement procedure, the force beams were certainly at non-lethal level.

Grabbing a handrail on the edge of one of the pods, he swung himself around a corner, sucking in a deep breath he continued to run, out through a large open hangar door and towards where his hopper sat waiting, lights aglow, fully powered up and hovering in its gravgen field. Stryler had learnt long ago to make sure he always had as smooth and quick an exit path as possible, and like most other things in his life, he'd learnt it the hard way. He was halfway across the hangar towards the spherical form of the hopper when he realized that two enforcers were approaching from the opposite side at a run, weapons up.

One of them fired at him on the move, but the beam flew well wide. That gave Stryler the momentary break he needed and he brought his rifle up, aiming mostly by instinct as he ran and then squeezing the trigger. There was a satisfying jolt in his arms as the dampers kicked in, and the enforcer ahead of him to his left flew backwards as the beam impacted him full on in the chest, landing him hard a dozen meters back. A beam from somewhere behind Stryler blew air past his head as he fired again, catching the other enforcer on the shoulder, spinning his body with a spray of blood.

He was at the hopper now, throwing his rifle in and heaving himself through the small hatch as another beam slammed the floor right where his feet had just been. His hands were on the control yoke before he had settled into his seat, and the small craft rose into the air, then tumbled as it was hit by first one, then another beam, both denting the hull noticeably.

Stryler threw himself into his seat.