14150/Planet Hopping
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| Planet Hopping | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 24 February 2022 |
| Location: | Unknown |
| Synopsis: | Summary needed |
| Cast of Characters: | Star-Lord, Rocket Raccoon
|
- Star-Lord has posed:
Saving the galaxy is hard work, but at least the Guardians aren't alone this time. Against a gigantic army of bug people.
Technically.
It's one thing to hear about it on the news... but it's quite another to hear it from people who have been at the border and in the thick of it, so to speak. That, plus the need tu resupply and find some new upgrades for the Milano means Peter has decided to do both: Spread word about happenings in the galaxy, and go on a galactic shopping spree/heist for the greater good.
Of course, with Rocket, it's probably gonna be the latter.
Now, the Milano has landed in Nova Corps space on some backwater on the border. It's a known pit stop for mercenaries for the Skrull-Kree war though, so it's a perfect place to drop in a word while finding some black marketeers.
As the Milano comes out of the jump point on the edge of the system and Peter gets his bearings, they're hailed by border control. "Huh? I thought the bribe for this section of the border would hold up for another year..." Peter glances to Rocket, "Rocket, what did you do?"
- Rocket Raccoon has posed:
It's been a wild ride alright. Honestly, you can't take Rocket anywhere more than once, or things start happening. Things like 'have you seen this criminal' posters and nice mug shots with the words 'Wanted; reward offered' underneath. But hey, the Milano is in great shape!
The same can't be said for Rocket, who has spent most of the ride through to the jump point asleep in his seat, lolling against the restraints. It was a heavy night, alright? His fur is still sticking out in unusual places, and the diminutive maniac has all the hallmarks of being seriously hung over. At one point during the last bar crawl, he acquired a human-sized helmet that he's currently using as a blackout, and from which the sounds of snoring can be heard.
That is, until the urgent bleeps indicating a scan are heard. "Whassat?!". The helmet comes off after a brief moment of panic in which Rocket seems to forget it's there, then tossed into the corner of the bridge to be retrieved later... or turned into some kind of weaponised souvenir. One or the other... probably the other.
"What the krutaxing frick are these hicks doin'?" Rocket mutters under his breath as he pulls the seat closer to the control terminal and begins pressing buttons like a virtuoso starting a particularly demanding piano concerto. "I mean, what'd we do to deserve..."
Blink. "Oh yeah. That..."
- Star-Lord has posed:
"I can't even pinpoint the source of the sig..." Peter puts two and two together and frowns, "Wait. Rocket, run a scan for the source. Are they using... masking? I don't see any ships either."
Peter sets a course for a nearby asteroid belt visibly... but doesn't hit the engines. Yet. "This is all kinds of weird, and that's a big red flag. I've never heard of custom ships that cloak in Nova space."
- Rocket Raccoon has posed:
"That's 'cause they don't." And if there's anything Rocket knows well, it's the tendency for the Nova Corps to go in for the direct approach. "Frickin' cheapskates don't wanna pay for cloaking rigs when they can just put more shields and guns on the same ship. Nova don't hide, they want you to know who grabbed ya."
Which makes the sweep for that scan all the more important, and it's something Rocket does well. Even when he's hung over. There's a reason he was once the best bounty hunter to ever stalk space. Before he went legit... ish. Kinda, sorta. In a semi-criminal way.
Enough to remember that if you charge-cycle the shield transmitters quickly enough, scans of a certain frequency have a tendency to bounce back stronger than they should, illuminating the transmitter like a lighthouse. A trick he once picked up from another bounty hunter that had gone rogue.
"I mean, I thought they'd wanna ask us about those 'condemned'..." and you can actually hear him pronounce the air quotes "military capacitors, but I'm thinking we've got bigger issues, Quill."
Ker-PING
- Star-Lord has posed:
Seeing the signature on the sensors, Peter groans audibly. "Ok. Strap in. They tried to alter their engines, but that doesn't change the rest of that ship. How the frick did these aholes know which jump point to ambush?"
His hands fly over the helm as he gears up for the space equivalent of a burnout acceleration, "We're gonna need a new dampener too after this." Peter grumbles as the ship lunges and groans under the strain of Peter abusing the engines far more than they were rated for... even with Rockets upgrades.
"Find me a nice big asteroid to blend with. Unless they upgraded those, that's how I got away last time."
- Rocket Raccoon has posed:
As the engines ramp up to their max rating and then beyond, Rocket actually winces. There's not a lot of things he cares about, but anyone putting a scratch in the paintwork of the Milano has questions to answer, usually along the lines of how many fingers they /really/ need in their life. He's long ago grown accustomed to the idea that Star-Lord will run the ship to the redline, no matter where that might be at any given time, but it's a certainty he's already thinking where he's going to acquire spare parts for this. Upgrades, naturally. Always replace better than new.
"Two-eight-six by zero-five-two." is the nigh instant reply, and he doesn't even bother pointing at it, trusting Quill's piloting skills and sense of direction, while everything not bolted down in the back goes flying.
Luckily he's in a seat with a full restraint harness so he doesn't get flung all over the cockpit, like the helmet. "If you want my guess, they been after us fer a bit. Thought that guy in the last bar looked shifty." A glance over to Quill. "Didn't he look shifty to you? Anyone that don't drink when I buy a round 's a bit suspect, y'know?"
Cue the counter scan, because if there's something Rocket hates, somewhere among that very long list is being jumped by other bounty hunters. ker-PING. Oooh... well now...
"Ey Quill... I think I found our spare parts..."
- Star-Lord has posed:
As they essentially launch from a dead stop, suddenly a dozen other ships decloak or fly out from behind asteroids as well.
"I don't buy that Nova Corps would tell mercs anything. Someone tipped them off where we were and planned this." Peter agrees, "Someones got an informer network that earns their 'donations'." Peter grumps.
"Spare parts?" Peter asks as they're coming up on the asteroid belt...
- Rocket Raccoon has posed:
"Slightly used, good as new." Rocket grins and glares at the sensor screen, then glances out the cockpit canopy and seems to lock his eyes into a distant shape. The gleam in his eyes tells it all, he's got something up his sleeveless. "Hold her steady for... oh, twenty seconds? Juuuuuust enough fer them t'think it's, I dunno, Drax at the helm or sumthin'".
And with that, he's off, slamming a palm into the center lock of the restraints and slithering out of the seat with practiced ease, running for the back only after scooping up the now much dented helmet.
"I mean, it's gonna be a hard sell, but I trust ya Quill."
Now where did he leave that high capacity gravity generator spool?