Center of the Riot
Corik didn’t listen to Master Jurix. By going through the center he could take out twice as many foes. He could cut them all down in a few swift strokes. But as the riot came within meters of them, he began to think otherwise.
Too many guns were firing at once, too many for him to deflect in this open position. He rolled and dodged more than he had ever in his training, for he couldn’t merely move directly at them, blaster fire was too thick. But it wasn’t enough. He was grazed in the leg with a shot that tripped him up from the sudden pain. Two more lasers hit him dead center in the torso.
He fell, gasping for air. He hadn’t the strength to move anything, except his neck. He veered it upwards, glancing first at the mob that was just about on top of him, and Master Jurix, still fighting for his life and doing a much better job in his position. He looked down and closed his eyes as he saw one of the men point his blaster rifle straight at Corik. For the first time, he didn’t hear the sound of the discharge.