Gizmo
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Communion Wormhole 00001101 (Formerly Lor-Van) Kinan Khan observed the swirling vortex that had once been the throne world of his most bitter enemies from the deck of one of the few Communion vessels equipped to support organics who had been deemed useful enough to be granted communion. The enhancements to his senses, painful and invasive, granted him extensive informational input, noting each iota of converted matter and giving reliable estimates as to the final body count. Some part of his dimly mused that he should have felt great satisfaction in the victory but Kinan Khan felt very little of anything any more. "Wormhole is stable," he reported out loud, an affectation he had been permitted to retain in his position as herald. Silver fluid sloshed about in the tubes protruding from his neck, his arms held rigid at his sides. "Connection to network will be complete within the cycle. Conversion of system planets to server worlds has begun. The once-conqueror known as Star-Khan paused in silence for several moments as his master replied. Every muscle in the Zultan's body tensed at that act of subservience but the cybernetics lacing that tissue forced them into a relaxed state soon enough. Prolonged tension was detrimental to efficient function. "The Star Knights responded more quickly without Mentor's direction than projected. Better to have thinned their ranks here, however. It is written that--" Kinan Khan's jaw snapped shut and remained sealed. His master was uninterested in the scribblings of flawed meat. When the compulsion was finally released, he gasped for air. "Of course. Countermeasures for Preserver-origin entities have been prepared. The Gorgon and the Curator have been reported most recently active. Their attempts at interference will be inconsequential." After another pause he continued, "Yes, we can expect more organized resistance going forward, including individuals of outlier capabilities. They will not comprehend in time. They will commune. Communion of intact Star Knight armor and flesh has already begun. All will commune."
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Midnight managed to stabilize himself with considerable effort, using a breathing technique his grandfather had taught him to counteract the tide of nausea that rose up as he was tossed about the turbulent waters. He clenched his jaw tightly as he recovered enough to see Typhoon escaping back toward Socotra with most of his many children. There was still enough time for one shot, perhaps from a tight beam sonic device he knew he had in his belt, aided by the dense medium of the sea. The black clad vigilante very much wanted to take the tyrant by the collar and explain to him just how many lines he'd crossed that day but ultimately the fight had clearly been knocked out of the old hydrokinetic. Trevor had more important things to worry about. "Edge. Can't see them. Status." The words were as soft as ever but subtly quickened by urgency and worry.
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There can be no sound in a vacuum. When later describing the fall of Lor-Van, however, every refugee present, from flight officer to senator to artisan and more, to a one they would swear that they'd heard the planet scream. There were no further broadcasts from the enemy, only the disgorging of world killer's eye searing beam crashing into the planet. The seas on the hemisphere facing the invading fleet evaporated almost instantly, moments before the continental shelf cracked and then crumbled beneath the impossible blast. As they fled the ships in the evacuee convoy could see the shape of their world distort briefly, like an egg in a vice, before visibly shattering into rough, uneven chunks. Rather than exploding outward under the blast's continuing fury, the shards of Lor-Van contracted in upon themselves, grinding each other into dust until a great shockwave ripped throughout the system, shaking the orbital cities like an earthquake and sending smaller vessels spinning end over end. Six point two seven microcycles later the unrelenting torrent of power stopped. It was another two point six three microcycles before the first of the fleet's sensors came back online and were able to report on the Communion's dark work. Where Lor-Van, jewel of the Republic had floated proudly there was a slowly spinning vortex of cosmic flotsam and light bent at unnatural angles. A wormhole.
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"Picking up a life sign, sir!" Seven's comms officer reported urgently, hurrying to send her sensor data up onto a wall monitor where it could be more easily shared. The bulk of the Communion forces were still hanging back from the planet itself, having done their job in thinning out the defending fleet of anything that could pose even a remote threat to their superweapon. "It's faint and there's no response to mentat hails but..." "Get a tractor beam on them and reel them in," the redheaded commando-turned-officer ordered, bringing the corvette closer to the floating suit of ruined green metal. Keying the shipwide speakers she added, "Medical team to primary cargo bay, we have injured inbound." After a moment's thought she added, "Better make that an engineering team, too. Bring the hull cutters." Quiet murmurs circulated throughout the bridge along with smoke from electrical fires. "...this is madness," and ensign second class muttered a little too loudly. "There's maybe six micro-cycles before that thing powers back up and--" "This brave, dumb bastard just took a bullet for us!" Seven cut him off with a rebuke that was closer to a snarl than she'd meant for it to be. Looking very tired indeed, she took a deep breath and continued, "Those micros are the difference between a few million getting off world and a few billion. We're not leaving anyone behind if we can help it." The bridge went silent for several moments until the comms officer hesitantly changed the tactical projection to a real time simulation of Lor-Van, the globe rotating lazily in incandescent blues. One by one each Lor in the room stood at attention and saluted their homeworld somberly, trying their best to etch every kilometer into their memories forever. "We have the Star Knight aboard, sir," the intercomm crackled, breaking the spell. "Set course for the convoy," Seven instructed, her voice thick and heavy. Every remaining Lorfleet and civilian vessel was heading away from Lor-Van at all possible speed, some already hitting FTL, others barely limping along. The bulk of the ships had gathered about the various orbital cities, massive domed self-sustaining arcologies designed with their own propulsion systems. Already they were lurching into motion, gradually building momentum. The exodus of the seat of the Republic had begun.
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Above Lor-Van "Oh!" Iana Th'emme let out an involuntary sound of shock and disbelief even as she covered her mouth in both hands. She and her guards and squeezed into the two person cockpit of her reserved shuttle, filling the opulent rear compartment with as many refugees as they could manage before taking off from the Vox. The Star Knight's shield had been directly above them when the massive battle station had fired, forcing them to turn their viewscreens opaque to avoid being blinded by the burning light. Now there was just empty space where the multi-coloured energy construct had been, the burnt and mangled but still recognizable remains of fantastic armor listing outside the exosphere. "Oh..." "...hail the orbital cities," one of the guards instructed his partner, shakily removing his hat and holding it over his chest with one white knuckled hand while the other kept them on course. "Tell them to have start the sublight drives now and have FTL ready as soon as possible." "But... but they stopped the attack!" the second guard objected, his words sounding more desperate than he'd intended them to be. "If we can just hold out until--" "There's no holding out, J'az!" the first guard snapped, eyes fixed hollowly straight ahead. "Don't you see? That..." He uttered a blasphemous curse that could have gotten him brought up on charges given the company in other circumstances. "Is already recharging."
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APPROVED
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The taller of the pair made a small downward gesture to indicate their destination, the training facility below them. "Training." He assumed it must have crossed Aleksander's mind. If it was just a question of brushing up on hand to hand fighting there was little that one of the two Ravens couldn't have just as easily taught him. Even if the goal was simply to provide the high school student with exposure to different styles, they'd made something of a production of the whole affair, at least as much as their reticent natures allowed. He'd have been awfully surprised if Alek hadn't come up with a few possible scenarios for what he was going to find waiting for him in the Doom Room.
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The humans had enough time to prepare themselves and familiarize themselves with Seven's plan of attack before the ship dropped out of faster-than-light travel above a desert world that looked harsh and uninviting even from orbit. The strategy was simple: Czak's sources had been able to provide her with the location of the kidnapper's base of operations on the planet's sole super-continent and they were already heading down through the atmosphere toward the coordinates. While the bulk of the Lor forces kept the terrorists occupied and distracted, Seven would take her privateer counterpart, Geckoman and Temperance around the side to find a way to slip in undetected and rescue the hostages. Iana had hotly insisted on being part of the rescue party and had been just as hotly denied by the clone commando. Ellie hadn't much liked the idea of letting Chris or their new friend out of her sight but she certainly wasn't bringing Eden into any more danger than she could help nor would she trust her niece to anyone else. Besides, her force fields would be sorely needed back at the ship if the kidnappers were able to bring more firepower to bear than expected.
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Poking her head through the ceiling, Kimber found a long, empty shaft there to greet her. "Say...!" Ducking back down into the windowless room the phantom spun in a tight midair circle and dove downward to look beneath them as well. Popping back up a moment later, she clapped her hands excitedly and beamed at the small, harried group. "You guys, I'm pretty sure this is an elevator! You did totally awesome, Bluebird! I'd pat your egg but I'd probably just pass through and make your little circuits explode or something, so later!" Floating over to a blank part of the walls, she tapped her chin with one finger and made a humming sound as she tried to logic her way through the design. "There's got to be a control panel in here, right? Everybody start pushing stuff, see what happens!"
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Erik had enough time to dimly recall one of the other members of the House of Swords referring to the scimitar user as 'Patricia' in their last encounter before she'd clear the stairs in a single leap and was upon him, blade slicing though the air with furious speed. He took a nasty gash across one forearm as he regained his footing in the face of her assault and could push back. "Hhn, better than these meatheads you brought with you," he congratulated before blocking her next strike with the fiery construct in his hand, "but this time you don't have a witch backing you up and messing with my mojo." A flurry of thrusts rocketed past her defense, burning sizzling holes in her leather jacket and landing cuts along her sword arm. "I'll leave you youngsters to the kids' table, then," Jean quipped while sprinting past and toward the first group of Katanarchists. Age had barely slowed the fencer down at all and two of the ninja were knocked unconscious to the floor before their brothers were able to react. Just like in the forest, the ninja with the higher ground did their best to dog him with barrages of shuriken while those on the first floor took advantage of his hampered movements and their superior numbers to attack at close range. Each katana strike was met with a ready parry from his rapier, however, the older man dancing about the battlefield as if choreographed. The remaining assassins focused on Min, some surrounding her while others took shots from above.
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The three dozen or so Katanarchists gathered about the first floor lobby of the disused office building and the overlooking second floor balconies that ran around three of its walls gaped from behind their masks for a beat at the demolished double doors, frozen briefly as they tried to figure out how to possibly respond to the armored dryad's bombastic arrival. The woman at the top of the stairs, standing out from the stealthy ninjas in her pristine white leathers, flared pants matching a fringed jacket and bleach blonde hair, seemed more amused than surprised, a grin too wide to be anything but manic playing across cherry red lips. "Haha! 'Knock knock,' she says!" the scimitar wielding woman whooped with a noticeable cockney accent, one hand on her hip. "That's fantastic! I practically don't want to kill you now!" Moving almost in unison, Erik and his father swung into the building behind Min, the younger man back-flipping as he landed while the older performed a tighter somersault before coming up to his feet. "You. You were there the last time you morons tried to hurt my family," Erik growled in recognition, eyes narrowed and mouth curling in a snarl. "I told you last time that if I saw you in Freedom again you'd be leaving on a stretcher. What part of that was too complicated for you?" "Maybe it's just that you're not so intimidating as you think, cuz!" the woman in white responded with an even wider grin. "Oi, you lot," she called to the Katanachists, "I did say 'practically'!" In response, the refocused ninjas filled the air with flashing steel.
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For six point two seven microcycles the world killer's beam fired. Just under five minutes by Terran reckoning. When it finally stopped, its sequence spent, Lor-Van and its orbital cities were still there. The Star Knights' shield was not. It started as a whisper to those receivers attuned to the relevant frequencies, solitary voices in the cold emptiness. "Knight Jurgav has fallen. His mantle is preserved. His duty shall be sanctified." Then, more clearly, the same echoing refrain repeated itself, only the names changing. "Knight Echass has fallen. Her mantle is preserved. Her duty shall be sanctified." "Knight Diviak has fallen. Their mantle is preserved. Their duty shall be sanctified." Soon the signal became a deafening deluge, overlapping and almost unintelligible. "Knight Peeyl has fallen. Her--" "--shall be sancti--" "--fallen. His mantle is--" "--Turta has fallen. Its--" "--mantle is preserved. His--" "Knight Peeyl has--" "--duty shall be--" "--is preserved. Her duty--" "--allen. His mantl--" "--uty shall be san--" "--has fall--" "--served. Her--" "--fallen--" "Knight Steward--" A pause. Then: "Knight Steward still lives. Initiating emergency protocols."
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From the surface of Lor-Van it looked as though the sky had been quilted, octagons of vivid green, orange, purple and every other imaginable colour overlapping and interlocking into a massive wall that completely covered one hemisphere. "By all the-- Star Knights!" Senator Enymor breathed, eyes glued upward even as he raced after the rest of the survivors from the parliamentary building, arms laden with irreplaceable cultural artifacts he'd insisted on stopping to retrieve even if it meant being left behind. It had been like slicing off his own fingers one by one when he'd chosen what to grab and what to cosign to almost certain destruction. "We're saved, then! Nothing could conceivably penetrate that!" Leaning out the door of the emergency shuttle and waving Enymor to hurry, Senator Th'emme glanced skyward herself, her expression less relieved as the wind whipped her long blonde hair about behind her. "No, nothing could," she agreed more quietly, her thoughts turning to her daughter and husband, hopefully both safe aboard the orbital city that housed her ancestral estate. "But why could they possibly need so many...?" * * * * * Captain Shepherd-07 took stock of her command crew as she maneuvered her corvette around in a broad circle to escort the wave of shuttles and smaller craft rising from the Vox like a school of fish. They'd taken a beating in the atmospheric dogfighting with the needle ships with only her battle-forged reflexes to keep them a step ahead but as communications came back online they were still standing. When a power surge had incapacitated one of her gunners, the pilot she'd taken over from had quickly stepped in to take a position in front of the wildly sparking console, tagging one of their foes with red hot darts of laser fire just before it could complete its collision course and knock them out of the sky. The holographic representation of the battle had already flickered back to life in the middle of the bridge but Seven noted with some satisfaction that her command staff had already learned to use it as one piece of intelligence, not their sole source of information. She glanced over herself to see a grid of overlapping shapes popping up above them, stand-ins for the shield being projected just outside the planet's exosphere. "Alright people, those tin plated boys and girls are buying us time, let's not waste it!" she instructed, angling the front of the corvette toward open space. "I want a clear path from here to the orbital cities!" * * * * * Seconds ticked by and the Star Knights had enough time to wonder if perhaps the waiting was the worst part. It wasn't. With a shockwave that would have been enough to rip apart the hull plating of most ships even through the vacuum of space, the world killer disgorged its gathered energy. The black of the void was washed out with electric white, a column of energy the width of a continent crashing into the Knights' combined shield. Mentor's chosen heroes, the best and bravest of every sentient species, held firm. Enough power to penetrate to a planet's core a hundred times over and still they held firm. With every soul behind them racing desperately to escape the surface of the seat of power of the galaxy's greatest civilization relying on them, they held firm. Until they could hold on no longer.
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As requested: Ghost Girl Intelligence check.: 1d20 19
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"Omigoodness, tiny talking metal egg guy!" Ghost Girl exclaimed as she swooped in behind her compatriots and rotated in the air so the she was floating with her face centimeters from the Furion artifact. "Hey little buddy! Nice work with the door! Although I don't really see a door out of here... Maybe it's a trash compactor! Well, no, it'd probably be messier, then." A sudden dread fear stopped the poltergeist's rambling and as she turned to Wraith her face turned a much paler shade of blue. "You... you don't think it's a trash incinerator, do you? Um, I'm j-just gonna see what's above us, okay?" With a quiet gulp, she floated high enough into the air to poke her insubstantial form through the ceiling.
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Midnight II Fortitude Save vs. DC 20.: 1d20+7 20 Just barely! It Typhoon headed back home or in the direction her was originally headed when he ran into the carrier?
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Patricia Move Action: Acrobatic Bluff vs. Erik.: 1d20+15 24 Standard Action: Charge Erik.: 1d20+16 29 Erik Espadas Acrobatics 25 with Skill Mastery. Toughness Save vs. DC 21.: 1d20+8 20 Bruised! Move Action: Feint Patricia: Bluff 29 with Skill Mastery. Standard Action: Energy Sword vs. Patricia; Power Attack 5.: 1d20+15 20 Patricia Sense Motive vs. DC 29.: 1d20+15 27 Fortitude Save vs. DC 21.: 1d20+7 23 Toughness Save vs. DC 29.: 1d20+7 20 Jean Pique Move Action: Engage Katanarchists. Standard Action: Sword Attack vs. Katanarchists.: 6#1d20+18 23 33 21 32 21 26 Katanarchists Toughness Save vs. DC 23.: 6#1d20+4 16 15 24 8 17 21 Third Katanarchist makes his Save, so only the first two are knocked out. Group 1: Katanas; Combined Attack vs. Jean Pique: 4#1d20+10 13 25 11 26 No hits. Group 2: Shuriken; Combined Attack vs. Jean Pique: 6#1d20+12 20 23 22 26 15 29 One hit. Group 3: Shuriken; Aid Attack.: 6#1d20+12 29 26 18 15 32 30 Group 4: Shuriken; Combined Attack vs. Min.: 6#1d20+14 18 27 18 26 32 16 Three hits. Group 5: Shuriken; Aid Attack.: 6#1d20+12 24 19 14 25 19 31 Group 6: Katanas; Combined Attack vs. Min.: 6#1d20+12 29 28 18 23 13 28 Four hits. Jean Pique Toughness Save vs. DC 17.: 1d20+7 22 Need a DC 21 and a DC 25 Toughness Save from Min! 25 - Patricia - Bruised x1, Dazed, -2 Defense 23 - Erik Espadas - Bruised x1, 6HP 19 - Jean Pique - Bruised x1 12 - Katanarchists - Uninjured, x34 11 - Min Espadas - Uninjured, 2HP, Pending Toughness Saves
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The Communion ships seemed more than happy to throw themselves against the Star Knights in countless waves, largely ignoring the civilian ships and the orbital cities they were trying desperately to make it aboard. Individually they were no match for the awesome power of the Knights' mighty armor but it was like a handful of boulders trying to hold off an ocean's worth of raindrops. As the tense, adrenaline soaked seconds ticked by it gradually dawned on the cosmic defenders with terrible certainty that while they were doing everything they could to keep the Communion occupied and distracted the Communion was doing exactly the same to them. The pitch of the massive battle station's humming energy, reverberating in every hull and armor plate above Lor-Van, kicked up into an insistent pulse strong enough to actually push nearby vessels back as if shoved. The open iris facing the planet was completely filled with scalding light and every Communion ship within five hundred thousand kilometers began flying away at full speed. There was no mistake: this was a world killer and the Star Knights were out of time.
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"Hey now, muñequita, we both know that if you didn't find anything there was nothing to find," Ellie admonished in the most encouraging way possible, knowing how frustrating the insightful engineer found and unsolved problem. She was pretty annoyed at the lack of answers herself but preventing Mara from indulging in any self-blaming was her immediate priority. "C'mon, wherever that guy went he's got to be long gone now. Let's go check on the patient who was attacked, maybe we can figure out what's going on from that end." Giving the heap of discarded clothes one last glare and a nudge with her foot, she shook her head and headed back up the stairs.
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Iana let out a quiet gasp at Citizen's haggard appearance and began to reach for something in his satchel before realizing that conventional first aid was unlikely to do the holographic young man much good. Instead she folded her hands in front of her ans squared her shoulder, suddenly radiating a regal grace that came with a lifetime of practice and coaching. "You have our most heartfelt thanks, Citizen Tulink," she told him with a deep nod of her head. "We have noble allies on Terra, The Jack of all Blades, Captain Geckoman and their kin. Though we are already in your debt, we implore you, when you reach your home seek them out and inform them of what has befallen Lor-Van. Good journey, hero." That was a much ceremony as her guards were willing to allow the moment and they quickly hurried the senator's daughter off toward her shuttle with Sharl's new acquaintances right behind them. Throughout the Vox's spaceport smaller ships undocked and headed for the orbital cities protected behind the defending fleet while ships with greater range headed away from the planet entirely, all of them crammed with as many bodies as they could hold.
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Redbird's voice came from the silver egg nestled in Midnight's arms as they fell through the air, swearing in a language he didn't recognize. "This is... irksome," she added in English for her bonded partner's benefit, increasing the volume of her audio over the whistling wind around them. "Hnn," Midnight agree flatly, tucking the egg away in his jacket. "Hold on." Short notice though they'd had before rushing off to battle al-Darsah and his progeny, there was something to be said for knowing that one was going to be fighting hydrokinetics over open water ahead of time. Taking a moment to reorient himself in the air as the surface of the water rushed up to meet him at alarming speed, Midnight pressed a button on his belt near one of his hips. With a faint hiss his cuffs formed a watertight seal with his gloves and boots while the oxygen scrubbers in his mask whirled into life. A quick shake of his wrists snapped semi-rigid webbing into place between his finger and extended hydrodynamic scoops on the end of each foot. Somersaulting gracefully mid-fall, he pointed himself facing the water and placed his arms tight to his sides. When he hit the water an instant later he shot downward beneath the surface, a human torpedo looking for any sign of Typhoon.
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Midnight II Free Action: Partially Configure Gadgets: Concealment 2 (Normal Visual; Flaws: Blending; Power Feats: Close Range) [3PP] Immunity 3 (Environmental Condition 2 [Cold, High Pressure], Suffocation [Water]) [3PP] Swimming 4 (25MPH) [4PP]Full Action: Dive!
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"Didn't forget. Prioritized," Trevor insisted with exaggerated severity, drawing himself up imperiously for a moment before letting his shoulders sag back down into a more comfortable posture. Unfastening the concealed buckles along one side of his uniform's jacket he allowed it to fall open and retrieved his current phone from one of its inner pockets. A few taps on the display were quickly followed by the faint ping of a notification and he announced, "Texted Redbird. She's retroactively making pizza run her excuse for absconding." Putting the phone away again he leaned down to lightly kiss the space between Erin's shoulder and neck. "Fate can hang."
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Adjusted Ability Scores to 4 + 4 + 2 + 8 - 2 + 0 = 16PP, shuffled Saving Throws and Skills accordingly.
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"Legitimate psychological warfare tactic," Trevor argued, rubbing his shoulder with a small grin. "Many people find beards intimidating. Sure to usher in new era of terror among cowardly criminal element." Even as he joked, he ran his free hand along his jawline contemplatively, squinting a little unconsciously as he tried to imagine what he might look like with a neatly trimmed goatee like the one his grandfather wore only filled in with jet black. Somehow that was almost as difficult to picture as being a father. "Could try it...? No, probably not." He shook his head as they headed back upstairs. "Pizza, though. Good idea."
