Since when had their thieving mission become a drive by? Her intitial belief was that Greg needed her to wield the revolver for self defense in the event of an attack, not for an ambush. Regardless of the speed this vehicle could travel they couldn't outpace a plasma projectile. There was no time to reject an order though, especially when she didn't know the consequences of inaction. These raiders could be the type to shoot trespassers on sight. The moment no eyes were on them she retrieved the gun, shoved it in her pocket, and concealed it with her shirt. This was definitely not what she had signed up for when she had agreed to go on a thieving mission.
As soon as they had entered what had to be raider territory she began scanning the streets for potential targets. She needed large targets. Species that would prove a real loss to the community but not so hearty that they could survive a multitude of plasma shots. At this speed it would be improbable for her to get more than one or two shots per individual in and without knowing how much battery life this device had left it was important that she make every shot count. Greg had given her the signal but she delayed following his orders just long enough for her to spot a few substantial targets. There was a trio of aliens exchanging credits and conspicuous, shodily taped packages. They were as good a target as any. She whipped out the colt and trained her weapon on the closest creature to her. Bolts of blue plasma cracked through the muffled streets. Those she had missed scampered off and for a moment it seemed like they might actually escape intact.
A volley of return fire rocked the vehicle. During the few pauses in weapon fire they were able to hear the screeching, clattering, and hissing complaints of the bike. Smoke billowed from beneath the machine and after a few more plasma bolts the machine was sputtering and slowing. First the GSF stopped operating and she was forced to cling the bike to remain seated. Shortly after the vehicle stopped hovering all together everything becoming a blur of dull colors. The reduced speed had been more than enough to keep them from dying on impact but the two passengers were still thrown forward when the bike first made contact with the ground. Lorin having been lighter than Greg had skidded forward a few feet further. She had managed to protect her head and neck with her arms. Holes had been torn in the sleeves of her shirt, the left side of a pant leg, and certain spots on her side as she had landed predominantly on her left side.
After she had stopped skidding across the concrete she checked herself for damage. Anywhere that the concrete had torn her clothing she felt an unignorable burning sensation and had road rashes. Their attackers still had quite a distance to cover before they could catch up with them but with their own injuries they needed every second they had to escape. Lorin pushed herself up slightly, yelped, and was force to pause because of a sharp pain in the side of her ribs and leg. The crash had driven the shard of glass in her upper ¬†leg deeper than it had been before. The sight of the flaming bike was more than enough to motivate her to move. She hadn't come this far out of her comfort zone and risked her life shooting at these raiders only to come back empty handed, she needed to save some of their cargo. As long as she could breath she wasnt too concerned about the sharp pain in her ribs. She started limping towards the back of the bike. One raider was far closer to them than the others were. She was quick to shoot the stranger's leg as most of the rest of it's body was protected by a thick exoskeleton. A flashing light on the colt warned her that it had a low battery charge meaning she'd need to use it far more sparingly. With her other hand she whipped out her knife to cut the string that was holding the bags in place and grabbed the heaviest one. The heaviest contained most of the materials from their target's pantry, food items that might have survived the crash. She decided to only save the one bag and distance herself from the toxic fumes emitted from the burning bike.
With little battery life left in the pistol, her injuries, and a bag weighing her down she didn't have much time to wait around. If Greg couldn't walk on his own she might have to very well leave him if any of ths two were to survive. "Can you move?"