Ha! he thought, typical Hellfire Legion... needing Bounty Hunter backup.... He dodged fire from both ships simultaneously, blasting at both with all his ability.
Ares memory flashes brightly. THere weren't two. There were three. Some Asgard Warrior also joined in... yes... he was returning to Cadiz from a scouting mission, but the Asgard Warrior cut his retreat off... three on one.
He jinked side-to-side up and down, plugging holes in the Hellfire fighter, but chunks were being torn out of his fuselage. What they lacked in skill, they made up for in numbers...
His cockpit cracked and steamed up. Still, he fought. He had to fly one handed for some reason... yes a shot had blasted through shields, through armour and hull and into his arm...
He blacked out, finger still squeezing the trigger.
***
He awoke with a jerk. A nightmare? No, it felt so real... and this wasn't his bed.
It must have been a dream, he thought, as he looked at his trigger-hand. It was fine.
Battered and bruised, he tried to get out of the bed... a hospital bed by the looks of things. As he did so, he felt the metal frame of the bed collapse in the grip of his left hand.
He looked down...
Sh*t, that's new...
His left arm was gone, replaced by a cold, mechanical representation of a limb.
He brought his new hand up and clenched it into an iron fist.
The Hellfire Legion and their comrades would receive tenfold in return...