The proximity mine does some damage -- the ones still standing are thrown off enough that York gets a good few lucky shots in, and even though one of them gets in a little too close she manages to club the vorcha with her pistol in the face a few times, until he's been suitably subdued.
"All right, this is what I'm talkin' about!" York lets out a laugh as she backs it up a few steps, still firing away. It's hectic, crazy, and okay, maybe a little risky, but hey, she's got two highly trained snipers picking off anything that gets too dangerously close. But when a cluster of vorcha starts to hurriedly retreat back behind the shop front and the fight starts to slow down a little, York gets the lurking sense -- just for a moment -- that something's not quite right.
Somehow, it happens all at once. York catches it only out of the corner of her eye -- the wide arc of the grenade, sailing through the air and the rattling clink as it hits the ground, suddenly in stereo as another follows it. York's head snaps over to the grenades, hearing the faint beep.
"Son of a bitch -- "
She lurches, rolls away as quickly as she can -- thank god for this new suit, is all she can think -- and the grenades burst into fiery explosions behind her, close enough she can feel the heat whoosh through her. If she hadn't jumped when she did, she might only be a puddle on the ground right now. York's on her feet in an instant, firing her pistol back at the vorcha while she tries to find some cover.
"You've gotta be kidding me! They're not supposed to have explosives!"
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"All right, this is what I'm talkin' about!" York lets out a laugh as she backs it up a few steps, still firing away. It's hectic, crazy, and okay, maybe a little risky, but hey, she's got two highly trained snipers picking off anything that gets too dangerously close. But when a cluster of vorcha starts to hurriedly retreat back behind the shop front and the fight starts to slow down a little, York gets the lurking sense -- just for a moment -- that something's not quite right.
Somehow, it happens all at once. York catches it only out of the corner of her eye -- the wide arc of the grenade, sailing through the air and the rattling clink as it hits the ground, suddenly in stereo as another follows it. York's head snaps over to the grenades, hearing the faint beep.
"Son of a bitch -- "
She lurches, rolls away as quickly as she can -- thank god for this new suit, is all she can think -- and the grenades burst into fiery explosions behind her, close enough she can feel the heat whoosh through her. If she hadn't jumped when she did, she might only be a puddle on the ground right now. York's on her feet in an instant, firing her pistol back at the vorcha while she tries to find some cover.
"You've gotta be kidding me! They're not supposed to have explosives!"