Rush to her aid.

The front door is locked. You jostle the knob, but it isn't budging. Though with someone potentially in danger, you feel your energy core spark with fiery passion, and with superhuman strength, you slam your shoulder forward, snapping the metal hinges off the frame before the entire door crashes to the ground with a reverberating thud. With the doctor behind, you jump forward, and as you do, your left arm once again transforms into an energy cannon. Combat mode. Let's do it. I'm already getting used to this feeling.

It's nearly empty in the interior of this seemingly abandoned warehouse. There's an upper level protected by steel railings, though the stairs are on the other end. There's a man up top--chunky, but wearing a nice suit, and all things considered, he looks rather handsome. Though your eyes snap immediately to a figure on her knees in the center of the room.

A blond damsel in distress, garbed in a pale blue dress--the source of the scream, you know it for certain. Her body is bound by a rope, but worst of all, an armed man stands opposite of you, as if to keep this woman as his hostage.

The man has dark red skin. Atop his head is a tattered cowboy hat over short black hair, where an emerald gaze looms from the shadow of his cap. A pair of small, stubby horns protrude form his forehead, and he has thin stubble around his face. Over a beige shirt with sleeves rolled up over surprisingly firm triceps is a brown vest covered in pockets. He has matching boots, black trousers, and fingerless gloves, though there's something else. The arm that holds his weapon is different than the other. It's off-shape, and dark grey.

As soon as you appear, he aims his weapon towards you--silver, covered in tiny glowing cyan lights. You aim right back at him.

Another non-human. Upon closer inspection, he looks younger than his rugged outfit first suggested, but he doesn't look weak. This man has his finger on the trigger. I was too slow. But if he shoots, I'll win. I just have to hope he doesn't threaten the woman instead. All right. Focus. One man above, no visible weaponry. One man below, armed and ready. A woman, bound by rope, right between the two of us. Meanwhile, the Doctor is right outside the door.

"That's a pretty nice arm," speaks the crimson cowboy. "Better than mine, I admit." As he holds the gun tight, you can see that the tips of his fingers that protrude from his fingerless coves are metallic--the entire arm is, actually.

"Let her go!" you demand.

There's a pause. "Wait. Are you talking to me? I thought you were the one working for him," he says with a nudge of his head towards the man above.

"But you're threatening that poor woman."

"No I'm not! I came here to save her."

Dr. Freling peeks out here head. "Julie, that's our captain!"

"... The smuggler?!" you shout back.

"Ahem." The man above tries to get everyone's attention.