The guard whirled, eyes blazing. The Jovians were extremely sensitive about their vocal defect that made forming of the letter "T" physically impossible. Augie's hot expletive was the equivalent of telling Pordo's underling he was too dumb to pronounce the sound.
The enraged dupe leaped at Augie, snarling fiercely. The two went down in a tangle flying arms and legs, the Jovian pouring sledgehammer blows into Augie's midriff—blows that were meant to kill. He wore no gun, or he would have used it. The Jovians were giving us no opportunity at escape.
I jumped into the fray, knowing if I didn't intercede in Augie's behalf the guard would maul him into a bloody pulp.
The Jovian turned on me and closed in, fists flailing and teeth gritting in fury at my interruption. I sidestepped his wild body punch and heard bone crunch as I caught his chin on a well-timed upper-cut. The guard screamed, blood dripping from his torn lips and Augie came in triumphantly from behind, raining mincy, bird-like blows on his head.
Professor Twilken clubbed futilely at the Jovian's back.
It didn't last long. The other guards, attracted by the clamorous uproar, came on the run and quickly subdued us with clubbed flame-pistols. Our badly-beaten opponent was dragged from the room, uttering garbled, vengeful threats, and we were left to lick our wounds.
"You shouldn't have done that," I mildly reproached Augie.