It seemed like Flaxis had been tackling everyone today. He had just noticed Frex slowly moving up behind them, with a knife in his hand, and had discreetly motioned to Darvek that he was coming. Frex didn't look to good, breathing heavily and stained in many places with gunpowder. He had the look on his face that Flaxis knew all to well: The look of a soldier who has already betrayed comrades and is prepared to do worse. Calvarr, again had gone into one of his spastic swoons about memories from long ago, meaning he wouldn't do anything anytime soon.
(OOC: Just pokin a little fun at you again, sliguy 
)
Darvek nodded to Flaxis's head-jerk, and took out his rifle. Flaxis discreetly held three fingers in front of him, signaling when to attack.
Three...Two.... One! JUMP Flaxis did an unexpected back somersault, using his legs as makeshift clubs to hit Frex in the stomach. The slig collapsed pathetically.
One blow was all it took? Flaxis thought contemptuously.
The Cartel sligs are getting weaker all the time.
Flaxis lifted Frez effortlessly, and Darvek kicked the fallen attacker's knife out of reach. He then pointed his gun point-blank at Frex's face.
"Okay," Darvek snarled,
"We've been surprised to many times tonight, so I don't have much patience left. Tell us what you are, who you are, and why your friends are after us. You've got ten seconds."