13882/You mean this ain't the space port

You mean this ain't the space port
Date of Scene:	13 October 2021
Location:	Central Park, Manhattan
Synopsis:	Still not paying the docking fees at the station! (and planning to take on the Brood)
Cast of Characters:	Rocket Raccoon, Mon-El, Kit Killovarras

---

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    'Unknown craft, you are approaching restricted space. Turn around now.'

    It had been a litany coming through the cockpit speakers of the medium sized shuttle that burned in from the outer planets at a reckless speed. There are a great many protocol to observe when approaching a low tech planet, especially one with local space traffic, but the pilot of the craft that looks suspiciously Shi'ar-like doesn't seem to know any of them. Or knows, but doesn't bother.

    "Ah, you go -" the whine of the engine capacitors grows remarkably loud in the cockpit of the shuttle as a furry hand pushes the controls up against their stops, coaxing just a bit more speed out of the sleek looking interceptor "- yerself. Whatcha gonna do? Shout at me? Wave yer fist?" Ah. Probably doesn't bother, then...

    'Unknown craft, turn around now or you will be-'

    With a shrug, Rocket flicks the comms switch to silence the transmission that's been bothering him for the past ten minutes and alters course to dive down into the atmosphere. The shuttle descends in an envelope of incandescent plasma, performing a rapid aerobrake maneuver to shed velocity and keep from being pulled apart by the dense atmosphere of the unremarkable planet in an unremarkable solar system with, to the best of Rocket's knowledge, no space capable enforcement vessels. "Dunno why Quill likes this place so much. Look at it. Oooh, twinkly lights. Big deal! Place is a dump..."

    Kicking the shuttle around its axis, Rocket aims for a nice, wide, open strip of land to settle down on, trying not to scare the locals of what looks like it might be a minor settlement with medium sized buildings. And there's barely a bump as the landing skids hit the dirt...

    ... in the middle of Central Park, New York City.

Mon-El has posed:
    Now, the people of NYC are -mostly- used to seeing weird stuff. But still, a space ship landing in the middle of Central Park has them a little apprehensive at least. Well a lot of people are taking out their phones to snap pictures, that's for sure.

    Lar has seen a lot of planets, probably even more than Rocket has. Okay maybe there should be a contest, or something. But Earth is -totally- not a dump! At any rate, the Daxamite heard the fuss on the comms. 31st century tech helps with that. But more importantly, he saw that poor excuse for a landing executed in Central Park, Manhattan, no less.

    Shi'ar? No, a closer look using that enhanced vision of his and there's no mistaking Star-Lord's furry companion. But what exactly is he doing here remains to be seen.

    He approaches the vessel and waits for Rocket to disembark, hoping he doesn't have any violence planned...

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    To the discerning observer, there are a few things not entirely right here. For one, despite the perfectly executed landing, the shuttle seems to be in fairly rough shape. Not battle damaged, not falling apart, but... not up to Shi'ar standards. There's also the rather unusual sign of unit markings having been removed with what may be a plasma torch or a grinding wheel analogue, leaving bare metal that has been hastily painted over. Lastly, the name 'Rack'n'Ruin' has seemingly been added in quite a hurry, with what may have been spray paint. /Several/ cans of spray paint, since not all letters are even in the same color.

    As much as New York might be used to strange doings and alien things, even while the brave and/or foolhardy (it's New York, often both apply to the same person) are taking pictures, the NYPD begins to arrive to... well... set up a cordon. Most of the officers arriving on scene don't seem to know what to do about this.

    Pretty hard to give this thing a parking ticket. How would you even reach the windshield? And it doesn't look like clamping the landing skids will do much to prevent it from leaving.

    By the time Rocket has powered down the systems and cooled off the engines enough to shut them down, there's quite an interested crowd milling about, now mostly behind the hastily erected barriers. What will emerge from this ship? A formidable warrior? A marauding predator? Some sort of intergalactic bounty hunter with a short temper, ready to slay them all for looking at them funny?

    Well... yes.

    The boarding ramp lowers from the 'neck' of the vessel, and illuminated in the backlight is a creature seemingly bristling with weaponry. Seemingly without a care, the creature descends the ramp, as if utterly unaware of anyone else around them, until the creature reaches the foot of the ramp, looking... slightly less impressive than the initial silhouette would have implied.

    Rocket looks around him and grins. "Attention, losers..."

    "Oh, hey Lar."

Mon-El has posed:
    Okay, yes. People around here are definitely used to weird things. But this is a whole new level of weird. How is it that after getting attacked by aliens, monsters, giant plants, various interdimensional threats, whatever it may be, the universe (or should we say multiverse) somehow manages to come up with something -else-? Albeit this one isn't quite as threatening looking as some people may have expected. There are even some...uh, giggles.
    "Is that...a talking raccoon?"
    "Nah man, I think it's a red panda."
    "No way, they're totally lighter than that. It's not even red!"
    "Well maybe it fell in the trash?"

    Lar raises a brow at Rocket as he is greeted. "Hey Rocket." he replies. "So, how's the fight out in the Imperium going? You're still alive so that must be at least -one- thing going fine. Peter doing all right? He took quite the beating on Raken-4." There is a slight frown at this. Despite their differences, he is somewhat concerned for Quill's well-being.

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    "Excuse me.... sir?" One rather brave police officer begins as he approaches, looking like a man on a mission with a notepad and a citation book. Without even bothering to look at the man, Rocket draws a blaster pistol from his belt and aims it at the officer, so far not going any further than charging up the power pack, which is making a very ominous whining sound that's rising in pitch. Among the sound of pistols being drawn and people taking cover, the officer backpedals as if finally deciding that a parking ticket is not worth being atomised over.

    "Eh, Quill's alright. That humie's tough, an' y'know it." Rocket shrugs, keeping the pistol leveled without paying it much attention. "But the fight ain't goin' our way. Milano's in fer repairs, again, an' I had to borrow this hunk of junk to fly over here."

    Somewhere, in the background, an animal control van screeches to a halt.

Mon-El has posed:
    "Hey, hey, calm down here!" Lar puts a hand on Rocket's blaster pistol, pushing it down firmly but gently so as not to damage it. He turns toward the police and the animal control people. Really? "Everyone...this is Rocket." he says calmly. "He's a -friend-. Okay? Just don't piss him off."

    Back to Rocket. "Sorry, they're just not used to seeing stuff like this. Don't hurt them, and they won't hurt you." he says in a low voice. Then back to a normal tone. "Anyway, good to hear that Quill's going to be okay. As for the fight, just point me where the fighting is heaviest..."

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    "They won't hurt /me/? Hah!"

    There's a release of tension when that pistol is pushed down, slowly, enough for one of the animal control officers to begin feeling brave. Is that a tranquilizer gun? That's a tranquilizer gun! And it seems like the operator is engaged in a very firm inner debate whether shooting Rocket with a tranquilizer dart would count as pissing him off.

    "See, that's the problem, Lar. The fightins heaviest everywhere. Dunno what pissed the Brood off, but they're swarmin' everywhere. Everywhere's like Raken 4, or close enough anyway."

    And the second his pistol is let go, it bounces right back up, aimed at the officer with the tranq gun. Does he have eyes in the back of his head?!

    "Anyway, I r'membered a couple o' humies fighting some Brood with me an' Groot a while back in that junk belt around the planet. So, I figured, if one humie's doin' a good job fightin' the Brood, might as well come grab a few more. One of their chieftains, I think, Captain something or other."

Mon-El has posed:
    Lar groans when that guy approaches with a tranq. "Seriously, I -just- told you guys he's a friend, and don't piss him off. What part of that didn't you understand?" Terrans sometimes, right? "Now put the weapons -down-." he says slowly. Hopefully, that answers the man's inner debate. "See, we're just having a...nice conversation."

    Back at Rocket. He sighs. "I don't think they're angry. Something must have given them the idea that it was time to start -expanding-. I could be wrong though. Maybe the Shi'ar did something."

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    "You'd think these humies would stop tryin' to be heroes, but if they're all like Quill..." yeah. Rocket isn't going to comment further on that, lowering his pistol and keeping it loosely held by his side. /After/ the guy with the tranq gun has seen sense and begins to rapidly retreat back to the van. And all in all, Rocket takes the dull *clonk* of some over zealous parking warden clamping the front landing skid of the shuttle pretty well.

    "Don't really make no difference no more at this point. Not like knowing what got them to start 's gonna make 'em stop. But I'm tellin' ya, we're gonna need more folk out there soon. Tactical situation ain't great. Strategic situation's worse."

Mon-El has posed:
    "But it just might, Rocket. If they got a hold of something--or someone--that made them think they could pull this off, or made them -want- to badly enough, or otherwise enabled them to do this, that might be the key to ending this invasion." Lar points out. He watches the man finally retreat, somewhat relieved. As far as diplomatic messes went, this wasn't the worst he'd seen.

    "Hey, I managed to convince everyone -not- to start shooting." he remarks. "Yay me."

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    "If the Shi'ar took somethin' from the Brood, you ain't never gonna convince 'em to give it back." Rocket reasons, with a shrug. He's gotten to know them quite well by now. Stubborn bastards, all of them. "An' even if you did, you ain't never gonna convince the Brood not to keep attacking. Might be important once we got 'em fought to a standstill, or if'n we can decide where to strike to stop 'em for a bit, but right now, I need more humies like that guy!"

    And with that, he points his pistol at the parking warden that's just finishing putting the chain around the clamp attached to the shuttle's front landing skid. "I mean, that takes guts."

Kit Killovarras has posed:
It can be remarkably hard to keep eyes everywhere and for a creature that's exceptional at being silent and going unnoticed by humans? Yeeaahh, there's a cordon, a small, psychotic raccoon on two legs is inside the cordoned off area and before long? There's what, at first glance, is a simple teenager walking up, somehow having slipped right by the police for now, though that likely wont last long.

He's dressed in baggy black jeans and a hoodie, hood pulled up high and far over his head with his head tilted down initially, nothing to see here, just another human... That is, right up until he gets close enough to Lars and the.. Raccoon.

Paws come out of the hoodie pockets, reach up and bring down the hood, his ears perking up and forward at the scene as he gives a low little whistle, lips tugging at the sides of his maw. "Hell of a landing.."

Yeah, the cops will probably notice him eventually and with his reputation? There have been rumors of a monster that roams central park, hunting down muggers and gang bangers, but he also matches the description for an assault and battery case as well.

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    "See? Someone here appreciates good piloting!" Rocket exclaims, gesticulating at Kit, and poking the pistol at Lar. Okay, having done that, he seems to realise he has the weapon drawn and puts it away. Finally.

    There is a great relaxing among the cordon, and the parking warden scuttles away after sticking a penalty notice against a landing strut, having done his proud duty. Alien craft or not, nobody parks in the Park and gets away with it!

    While the parking warden is making a heroic retreat, Rocket turns to face Kit, looking up at the taller fellow furred being while contriving to make it look like he's at eye level. "You don't look like you're one of these peace keepers. Uniform in the wash?"

Kit Killovarras has posed:
Theres a little tug of a grin, showing off the tips of his fangs ever so slightly before he shakes his head, "Not a peace-keeper, just curious." he says with a little chuckle. "Never seen something like this honestly." Then he gives a shrug and adds, "But then again, there's a lot I haven't seen."

He isn't standing his full height due to his pants letting him fold the digitigrade legs a bit to appear shorter, though it's an obvious move made when he crouches down further, putting himself at eye level with Rocket as he tilts his head ever so slightly, getting a somewhat better look at him.

Mon-El has posed:
    Lar scoffs a little. "I didn't say anything about 'convincing' anyone." he tells Rocket. "I said it might be the key to ending this invasion. If I had to hazard a guess, the Brood have some illustrious new leader or something that's driving them to this, keeping them cooperative and strategizing everything perfectly. Maybe a queen who's more ambitious. We take her out, maybe cause some infighting, get them in disarray. It'd be a step, at least."

    He turns to Kit when the mutant approaches, recognizing him instantly. "Oh, hey Kit. This is Rocket." The officer trying to ground the ship and issue a citation gets a headshake. Well, not like it's going to matter.

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    "Ey. Take a holopic, it'll last longer." the compact bounty hunter grouses, crossing his arms and looking Kit in the eyes. Asserting dominance? Just being generally an asshole? With Rocket, it's always hard to tell.

    "But at least you ain't behind one of those wooden things trying to get a look. I mean, seriously, c'mon. I meet four humies that know how to fight, I come all the way from Shi'ar space to round up some more humies for the fight with the Brood, an' all I get is..." he waves a hand at the cops and the parking wardens, while also taking in the gawping New Yorkers. "Look, I ain't got time to be nice. Do you know where I can find the human chieftain? Calls himself Captain something, has a round shield."

    When Mon-El makes a contribution, Rocket nods. "Yeah, considerin' the Brood have changed their tactics and are strategising across a front sixteen sectors wide, I'd say that's pretty frickin' obvious. And it's just as frickin' obvious that we don't know the first thing about this new Queen, the Brood ain't gonna tell us an' the Shi'ar ain't interested in anything 'cept losing more planets. I need more frickin' people with frickin' brains b'fore the Brood all over the frickin' place, Lar. Need them yesterday."

Kit Killovarras has posed:
"Holopic?" Kit asks, cocking his head further to the side before he stands up, to his full height this time. "No idea where the human 'chieftan' is, though I doubt that's actually what they are, since most humans haven't had a 'chieftan' in centuries.." he says as he stands.

There's no sign of where it's coming from, no sign of who is doing it beyond the aardwolf speaking, but some sort of unseen force actually lifts Rocket off the ground, keeping him comfortably at eye level with the now 6'6" teenage animal. "Rocket, huh? Nice name." he says with a little chuckle and a glance to Lars, then his attention turns back to Rocket as he adds, "I like it.. Now, what exactly are these... Brood?"

Mon-El has posed:
    Lar sighs at the Shi'ar not being interested in -actually- ending the invasion. "Hmph. Figures. Sounds like it'll be up to us. You're right, we need more people who'll be willing to help us in this fight." And neither those police officers nor the gawkers on their phones are likely to be of any use. "Uh, hm." He frowns pensively at Rocket's description. "Oh--I think you mean Steve Rogers. No idea myself, but I'd start at Avengers Mansion if I were looking for him. I'm not sure if he's some kind of political leader or not, though. I'm not from this planet either so I can't pretend I know much about its leadership structure. Maybe Kara knows. She's been here longer than me."

    He arches a brow at Kit as Rocket suddenly gets lifted off of the ground. "Uh, I'm assuming you're doing that, but I also wouldn't recommend doing that. Unless you wanna get a blaster in your face." he remarks. "The Brood are an insectoid race that reproduce by infecting hosts and transforming them into their own. And I'm pretty sure they -enjoy- the agony the process inflicts on their victims. They're all over the Shi'ar Imperium right now, and no one's assuming they're going to stop there..."

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    Kit does, in fact, get a blaster to the face. Or, to be more accurate, one to the face and one pressed up below his chin. Where'd the second pistol come from? Rocket is literally festooned with weapons, as if he's ready to fight the entire planet by himself. Probably literally. "Put the goods down nice an' easy, ears. I've been bringing in dangerous bounties all across the galaxy, you don't wanna make that list."

    Which is, under the circumstances, a most restrained reaction.

    "I don't need any frickin' political leaders, Lar. I need the humie who flew up into space in a crappy ship held together with old tape an' bare aluminum, to fight Brood drones with a frickin' lump of vibranium metal and a fist. Y'know, someone who understands that when I'm cobbling together a nuclear fission bomb is no time to start asking why, or how, an' keeps the Brood from shootin' me with their frickin' pain blasters."

    His eyes look into Kit's then, practically blazing. "That's what they do. They've got guns that don't kill you, they just hurt. Hurt you worse than you can imagine. Drop you right there. And when you're down, they keep on shootin' ya, 'cause they enjoy seeing you in pain. And when you can't stand it, when you want to die, they make you one of them, an' that's it, lights out forever. Exceptin' you ain't dead. You just wish you were. That's the Brood. An' if we don't stop 'em in the Imperium, it ain't that far from those borders to this little crappy bit of the galaxy."

Kit Killovarras has posed:
There's a toothy little smile at the blasters and how quickly they come out, "As you wish," the aardwolf says with a little chuckle, strangely enough not looking anywhere near as worried about those weapons as he probably should. "Just figured you wouldn't want to have to keep looking up, it can put a hell of a kink in your neck." Then Rocket is lowered back down to the ground.

"So... insectoid?" Kit asks, a little quirk of his brow as he licks his maw, tongue curling over from one side to the other. "Sounds interesting. How hard are they to kill?" He's a curious creature after all and that curiosity continues as he adds, "Like, lop off a head and they're done? or are they more of a, 'could probably survive a thermonuclear explosion' sort of deal?"

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    "Trust me, I know." is Rocket's reply to Kit's concern. "But height's only a matter of attitude. Don't lift me unless you're offering to let me use your shoulders as a gun platform, all I'm sayin'" Seriously, where is Groot when you need him? Asleep, most like, or licking at the nearest fountain.

    "Nah, they die just like most things, they're no tougher 'n you or me. But there's a lot of 'em, and I've actually managed to run out of power packs shootin' 'em. Worst is their weapons. I've seen a guy that's maybe tougher 'n the Hulk get taken down by those things. They shoot ya, you'll feel it. Can't really say what the Brood really are, 'cept parasites. When they make you a drone, you don't look no different, you just don't got no free will no more."

    A deep sigh, and the blasters are put away. No, seriously. They get shoved into their holsters, and Rocket kicks at a nearby tussock. "Truth is, I dunno if we can stop 'em this time. They used to be a bit of a joke, now... they took out a whole planet, easy as that, an' that was with the whole of the Shi'ar sector fleet there to stop 'em. Shi'ar ended up glassing the planet, that's what it's starting to come to."

Kit Killovarras has posed:
"So, an army of bugs that can die as easily as a human?" Kit asks, tilting his head slightly. "Sounds like it'd be an interesting meal..." Then he gives a little shrug and adds, "Wouldn't mind letting ya on my shoulder, but I could also put you up thirty or so feet without much effort and give you a mobile snipers perch too if you wanted."

There's a little shrug and a bit of a frown at the comment about 'glassing a planet' and he just shrugs. "Well, I mean, here or there, if you guys can't stop them, I'll probably end up having to fight these things too. So, if push comes to shove and you need someone who knows the weirder side of the multiverse, give me a call."

Mon-El has posed:
    Lar sighs, nodding at Rocket. "Yeah, I have to say I've never seen them like this before. There's something behind this. Something or someone driving it, and we need to find what or who it is. If the Shi'ar won't help in that, we need to find people who will. The problem is...the more planets they consume, the more they add to their numbers..."

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    "See, now we're gettin' somewhere!"

    All of a sudden, Rocket is animated again, ears pinned back, pointing between Lar and Kit. "Knew coming to this mud ball was the right call. I mean, you know how rare it is to find people willing to stop an' think before they throw themselves into a fight they can't win? Shi'ar, Nova Corps, they're all the same. Show 'em a fight an' they end up flockin' there like..." Blink. Blink blink.

    A heartfelt groan, and Rocket claps both his hands to his face, pressing the palms into his eyes and rubbing. "Urgh, I've been a frickin' idiot!"

    A quick point at Kit, the moment Rocket straightens up again, suddenly full of purpose once more. "You. You wanna fight? Good! So find me some more like you, people that can think an' don't just run off to the thickest fight. Y'know, people who know how to fight, when to fight, and when to stop and think about fightin'"

    A quick point to Lar. "You, you're a genius, 'cept don't tell anyone I said that, an' I'll deny I ever said it. But the Brood are actin' weird, an' I was too busy shootin' drones to see the swarm. 'Course they attack in the biggest swarm ever, if they wanna lure the Shi'ar away from what they really want! Keep in touch with ears here, see what you can round up, an' send me a comm when you got a team or somethin'. Meanwhile, I'm gonna do what I should have done in the first place, an' figure out what the Brood really want 'stead of shooting 'em wherever they're thickest!"

Kit Killovarras has posed:
Kit just quirks a brow again, then gives a little shrug and a laugh as Rocket tells him to find others like him, "I mean.. Not entirely certain how my family would respond to knowing all of this, but I'm pretty sure they'd be up for the fight if they knew the situation." he says, sticking his tongue out ever so slightly at the raccoon before adding, "After all, we sort of live on this 'mud ball' and all things considered, we kinda like the place." Then he pauses for a moment to think before he shrugs and adds, "Might know a few others who could put up a fight, but not sure if they'd be willing to take the risk.. Might be able to see about getting the attention of a Lantern though too, so.."

Mon-El has posed:
    "Hm." Lar considers Rocket's words. "So you think they're after something specific, other than just taking over the Imperium? If that's the case, we need to find out what." He nods, turning to Kit. "If you and your friends or family are willing to fight, just let us know. We have the means to get you there." 'We' meaning the Legion or the Guardians, that is. "If they seem reluctant, tell them these things aren't likely to just stop at the Imperium if they don't meet enough resistance..."

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
    "Tell 'em the Guardians of the Galaxy are on it, an' need a bit of help." Rocket concludes and makes back for the shuttle, pointedly ignoring the clamp around the landing skid... but /not/ the citation stuck to the landing strut. In fact, he makes a point of taking it from the plastic and reading it, blinking. "Frickin'... would've been cheaper to pay those ridiculous docking fees at the station. I ain't payin' this..." and commits a minor felony by crumpling it up and tossing it over his shoulder as he board the shuttle via the ramp.

    Moments later, the ramp rises and the engines spool up. All in all, Rocket's being considerate, giving everyone a chance to scatter before he applies takeoff power. Gracefully, the shuttle lifts off on thrusters alone, the landing skids retracting and crushing the parking clamp, raising a minor cheer from several spectators and a furious scribbling from the parking warden. Littering, destruction of property... this alien is going to get /such/ a fine when he lands next time!

    Figuring that everyone had enough time to find cover, Rocket angles the ship up and blasts off. Full power, of course...

    ... he's a Raccoon on a mission!

Kit Killovarras has posed:
Kit watches the ship take off, then walks back past everyone, intentionally passing the parking warden and giving a quiet, "You realize they'll never pay that right..." he says with a chuckle, then gives a wave over his shoulder. Somewhere inside the pen, the mechanisms that allow the pen to function suddenly jam up, the flimsy metal at the tip suddenly pinching down on the ball. Kit meanwhile, just pulls up his hood and keeps strolling along and if any of the cops try and stop him? Oh well, he's good at getting out of those situations too, especially since he's learned how to drop the clip and chambered round out of a gun since his last run-in with them.