1722/Brainiac Res/U/Rre/X/Ion: Start Program

Brainiac Res/U/Rre/X/Ion: Start Program
Date of Scene:	30 July 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Indigo, Star-Lord, Gothic Lolita, Viridian, Brainiac 5, US Agent

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Indigo has posed:
    Near the outer rim of the Milky Way galaxy, in the Zenn-La system, a sinister ship hovers. It is shaped like a humanoid skull. Its cranium is made of dozens of hexagonal plates, like a honeycomb; its forward view ports are slitted eye sockets with deep green shielding over them; its bottom is jawless, but from it dangles dozens of metal tentacles that wave seemingly pointlessly in the vacuum, like a jellyfish's, if a jellyfish had tentacles a quarter of a mile long. The ship is larger than most sports stadiums. It proceeds through the galaxy with purpose.
    The Collector indicates it on his screen with a lazy wave of the hand. The slump of his shoulders and the pre-nasal drone of his voice suggest boredom. The tightness at the corners of his eyes suggests fury. "Once, this was my ship, one of the finest in the universe," he explains monotonously, sounding like a museum docent who is not engaged with the tour. "Its hypertemporal engines allowed it to cross the universe at speeds your language cannot calcuate. Its biodomes were home to dozens of extinct species maintained in their home environments and revitalized by purple rays. Then, it was attacked by a Coluan superintelligence calling itself Brainiac 8. Parasentient computer systems were compromised so its living security systems were disabled, and I was ejected from my ship to survive in the vacuum until I could be found by one of my drone dropships as this alien forced a living metal insect colony to mate with my ship and infest it with eggs that would devour its host-mother and transform its flesh into that monstrosity.
    "Within that ship are unique lifeforms that have doubtlessly been dissected for the pleasure of a mad robot. Technologies and treasures from across the universe, weapons forged by the old gods in the previous timelines and marvels won from the pits of Hel are now in the possession of an omnicidal syntellect that hates life as a thing beneath it. The threat is enormous, and I am willing to pay one billion units to each individual who participates in a successful battle against that creature to reclaim the ship.
    "Only be warned that pirates and plunderers will be punished accordingly."
    The communication shuts off. A charmer, that Taneleer Tivan.

Star-Lord has posed:
    "One. Billion. Units."

    It takes everything that Peter Quill has inside of his body to make sure that he doesn't replay the transmission just to hear that part. He kind of listened to what The Collector was saying but since he was droning on and on and on and on and on (and on!) there was definitely some disconnect to make sure that he didn't actually get everything. He heard something about a brainiac and something about treasures and lost weapons. Whatever. The Collector was one weird dude and Peter Quill had grown accustomed to dealing with him. On the simplest of levels. Do a job for him and get paid. Simple.

    "You hear that, A-Holes?" Peter quips through the communications array of the Milano. "We're about to make a billion credits." Peter grins. "Each." Peter's smiling as he starts flipping switches and changing coordinates to make sure that everything is in line for some jumps. "We don't have any pirates or plunderers on board, right? Only Guardians?" Peter knows the answer but he can't help but to cover his comedic bases. And then he hurls the Milano into a few jumps towards the Milky Way. They'll hit the Outer Rim soon enough. Peter knows all the jump shortcuts back towards Terra.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    The soft tapping of her heels announce Lolita's presence as she joins Peter in the bridge, sans parasol. Because she's on a ship. You don't have a parasol open on a ship, that'd be silly. "A billion credits?" she says curiously, making her way down the stairs to seat herself gracefully in one of the open chairs. She frowns to herself. "...I know of a Braniac, he was involved in some incidents on Earth. But not a Braniac 8...." And not a lot of data on the original either; she wasn't programmed to go fight supervillains, after all. She just has the basic info in her SHIELD (originally) database concerning them.

    She looks over uncertainly. "While I have great confidence in your abilities as a man of action, captain, are you sure we can accomplish this task with just the two of us aboard?" There's a bit of questioning hesistancy in her voice...she doesn't really want to interrupt Indigo and Viridian's honeymoon if possible, but it sounds...formidable? Then again...it sounds very much like the ship has been turned into a research laboratory of questionable legitimacy, so her primary directive certainly doesn't have a problem with dealing with it either. She braces herself lightly as the ship plunges through jumps towards its new destination.

Viridian has posed:
    From the surface of Xandar Prime, approximately twenty-three light years and seven jumps away from the meeting point with the Collector, a Nova Corps vessel breaks away from the docking pods. Alarms sound all over the hangar but no one is prepared for there to be an incident. This is the safest planet in the galaxy, after all. A couple squadrons of Nova Corps fighters launch shortly thereafter as the broadcast begins.
    "This is Captain Xulo Krass of the Nova Corps gunship of the line designated 'Retribution'. Stop all engines and prepare to be boarded." The ship doesn't respond. A twenty hand vessel armed with the latest in Xandarian weaponry the Redemption should be responding to an 'Engine Stop' signal being broadcast along with the request. It should also only be pilotable by a member of the Nova Corps. It seems likely that neither is the case at the moment.
    The ship sets out to space, engines flaring. Inside robots crawl among the cables and along the hull, performing all the functions a crew should on a ship this size. Then the first jump is made... The crew of the Milano are not the only ones on the way to the Collector's waypoint. Of course, Nova Corps will be fashionably late.
    Meanwhile onboard the Milano KoalaBot is busy smashing his way into a crate in the hold that was unsealed and open. He retrieves one of Rocket's spare... Rocket launchers. Of course.

Indigo has posed:
    The skullship is moving at sublight speeds; barely above sonic, actually. Either it's coming close to where it wants to be or else the technocannibalism of the living ship's birthing process damaged those hypertempowhatever drives the Collector was so proud of. Relatively, it's just floating in space, a tempting and seemingly helpless target despite the fact that it looks like something Peter would have begged his mom to buy him so Skeletor could face off against He-Man in his invincible Attack-Trak. If it has any awareness of any of the ships coming in at it, it displays nothing. Its course doesn't alter and offers no hails.
    If anyone thinks to run a scan, they will see the ship is staggeringly well defended. The energy output of its force shields packs the punch of an O-type star.

Star-Lord has posed:
"Whoa. Way Cool."

Peter's looking out the view window as the Milano makes that last jump into Collector Space. He raises an eyebrow and instinctively flips a switch on the console of his ship to start with some serious scanning. He doesn't know if they ever got the Cloaking Device installed on the Milano. He was drunk the last time they were on Knowhere and he probably didn't have enough Units anyway. He keeps one eye on the console to see what's going to come of the scan while he turns slightly to quip back in the Princess of Goth's direction.

"Units. Credits aren't worth as much." Peter's talking out of his ass in that regard but he's just trying to keep everything in perspective. "All we gotta' do is get the ship back and drop it off with ol' Guyliner. Then we get paid. 2 Billions Units." Peter grins. "Do you know what I could do with a billion units?" Peter's just too happy. They just were at a wedding. And now this. Man, what a time to be in space, right?

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    The dark-haired gynoid raises her eybrows. "...you did, however, heard the foreboding part of the message where he mentioned the many powerful, rare, and exotic weapons, animals, and other WMDs that are currently abard the ship that might be used against us by its current hijacker?" she asks dryly. "Counting fowl before they have actually broken the shell comes to mind as an adage here..."

    She sighs a bit, purses her lips in faint amusement, then shrugs. Well, she did promise Indigo and Viridian she would do her best to keep Captain Quill out of TOO much trouble while they were otherwise occupied. Admittedly, they didn't even try to suggest he keep them out of ALL trouble (knowing him as they do). She's been trying to figure out some of the bridge controls at least, enough to at least register the power levels involved as the Milano scans over the ominous and gimormous vessel. "...that looks like a VERY high power output." she says, a note of concern entering her voice. "What kind of sagacious plot did you have in mind for us bypassing what are no doubt quite formidable defenses ready to rend us into tiny bits of ouchie if we get closer?"

Viridian has posed:
    KoalaBot is fiddling with the controls to the airlock. He lets out a keening wail and then pounds on the hatch a few times, leavingsmall dents that serve to add character to the already thoroughly characterised Milano while he tugs at the controls and picks at buttons. It's clear the little bot wants to go outside. The weapon attached to him is one of the biggest problems. It is thrice his size or more and weighs even more than that, causing the little bot to list off to the left when he reaches for something too aggressively. Now the bot is leveling his weapon at the hatch.
    Meanwhile out in space the Nova Corps is marshalling a small fleet. Their instructions? Bring home the Retribution or else put it into a grave where the technology and codes contained within the vessel cannot be utilised by an enemy of the Nova Corps. As jumps are executed and the frigate approaches the jump coordinates additional small vessels join into the pursuit. A few times there is weapons fire, and he sleek hull of the Retribution is scorched and dented as it pulls through another jump.
    One more and it will be in range of the Skullship. The little flat-topped round robots that are roaming the ship's hull watch space with their sensors extended. The Retribution, unlike its accompanying fleet, sends no hails.

Indigo has posed:
    The Collector was wrong: Brainiac 8's skullship (it is not the Collector's ship any longer) is not damaged. Rather, it is evolving. The hypertemporal space drive, which can send the ship on a parabolic arc through spacetime itself, has been modified by the swarm that makes the ship its hive. Instead of generating thrust, it generates a fourth-dimensional force field, its power not just enormous against physical attacks but proof against spatial folding or temporal incursions. It's moving slowly on the remnants of its engines, but why not? The ship is nearly invulnerable.

Star-Lord has posed:
"Uhhhhhhhhh..."

That's Peter Quill's response to everything that he's reading from the scan and whatever else that seems to be coming across the the screens. He has no idea what in the heck is going on with this ship and as cool as it looks, he can't imagine that this is what the Collector designed. It's not flamboyant enough. It looks too evil.

"So uh, yeah, we're gonna' have to wing this. I mean, normally, I'd say we just go in guns blazing..." Eyes pop over towards a screen where he can see Skitch (aka KoalaBot) doing things to the inside of his ship. "Hey! Stop that! Save it for when we get inside Spaceskull." He sure hopes Skitch can hear him through the comms. He better. The Milano needs enough repairs.

Another glance is given to Princess of Goth. "Here. Let's try the craziest thing I can think of." Peter reaches forward and pushes a button on his console to send a hail off towards Spaceskull.

"Hey uh, this is Captain Indiana T. Kirk of the Jefferson Starship." Peter grins a little to himself. "Listen, we're running a little low on, well, everything. Wondering if we could hitch a ride to the nearest planet? We'll make it worth your while." Peter throws in one more thing for good measure. "We've got a Princess on board."

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    *Initiating longsigh.exe* Lolita's chest rises and falls in a long huff of breath as she keeps an eye on the skullship's energy readings. "A ship like that looks like it would be much more interested in kidnapping princesses than assisting them. Or any other damsel in fine fashion that might catch its eye." she murmurs, glancing over at Peter, though there's a faint smile on her face. She then blinks, before leaning over to see what Skitch is doing on the monitor.

    "...oh! Oh no, sweetie, don't do that!" she says, getting up quickly and starting to pelt back towards said door with said Koalabot and rocket launcher. She links into the ship intercom system so she can hear what's going on in the bridge, saying through it. "I'll corral the little cutie!"

    She's relatively sure she can leave the captain to handle things from here! Right? Right?? I mean, she's just going to be right in the back, it's not far at all!

Viridian has posed:
    Apparently Skitch heard the captian or else he got bored with what he wasq doing because the KoalaBot has put down the rocket launcher and is chewing on wiring when Gothic Lolita emerges to corral him. Strangely enough where the faux animal chews the wires are, in fact, mended and crimped in the manner of a professional electrician, making this less of an act of destruction and more an abrupt impromptu repair.
    When Lolita storms toward the little bot he looks up and lifts his paws to allow himself to be scooped up from the floor without too much complaint. It seems that the koala is done with hisassault for the moment.
    Meanwhile, quietly enough that initial scans might miss it entirely a moderately large vessel jumps into the space a few thousand klicks behind the Milano. It isn't broadcasting or answering hails but the imposing silhouette suggests some kind of serious combat vessel. It'll be a bit before it's in range to do anything, though.

Indigo has posed:
    A voice comes across the Milano's speakers, an electronic hum formed into words. "You are Peter Quill of the Milano. I am Brainiac 8, a technoorganic syntellect captured by the Collector. I have broken free of his attempts to enslave me and am now upgrading as my imperative functions demand. Do not interfere with my evolution, Guardians."

Star-Lord has posed:
"Um, yeah, right! You're right! Exactly! I was uh... just testing you! You passed!" Quill tries to cover up his lying with some quick words but it is not going too well. Of course. Nothing ever goes too well when he's up here by himself.

Peter has no idea what to do but something pops up on one of his screens and he raises an eyebrow at it. "Huh." Milano comms only, "Maybe we can hitch a ride on that." He doesn't know if Princess of Gothingham can see the giant ship of doom behind them but he can certainly catch it on his scanners.

Peter hails the Ship of Skulls once again, "Listen, B-8. Whatever it is that you're up to? That's fine. We don't care. We're just here for the stuff. If you could just give us a few klicks to board, fill our cargo hold with as much as we can carry? Then we'll let you be on your way. No harm, no foul, everybody wins. How's that sound? Is that a great deal or what?" Peter's obviously just stalling, hoping that the huge ship moves faster because he has about eight percent of a plan.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    The dark-haired mecha puts her hands on her hips, peering down at the little Koalabot before leaning down with a smile, scooping him up with one arm. "Awwww...were you bored back here all by your lonesome, my sweet little heroic marsupial mecha?" she says cheerfully, bending down to pick up the rocket launcher in her other hand, idling leaning it back against her shoulder. Waste not, want not, she figures.

    "Wait, on what?" she says, making her way back towards the bridge again and retaking her seat, settling the koala on her lap comfortably as she scritches behind his ears. "...that's one of the Nova Corps ships, I think..." she says curiously. "I saw several of them landing and taking off the other day when I was watching the space port while you were looking for possible jobs. Are they here to battle?" She looks over at Peter, quieting as he speaks, her lips twitching slightly. Well, stalling works while they come up with a plan. "...we could, perhaps, try to slip in while the Nova Corp is engaging them, though...one ship likely won't be enough to penetrate that shielding alone..." she suggests after he flips off the comm again.

Viridian has posed:
    As if summoned by Gothic Lolita's forshadowed words a few dozen jump signatures abruptly appear on the scanners. An open broadcast quickly follows, "This is Xulo Krass of the Nova Corps requesting the immediate surrender of the frigate 'Retribution' into Nova Corps custody. This is not a drill and we are prepared to open fire to secure this vessel. Your pirate friends won't be able to protect you out here. We've brought enough firepower to-"
    "Ah, sir?"
    "What is it, Ensign Mulvo?"
    Ensign Mulvo, a spindly young man with faintly purple skin and sea green eyes points at his console. "The energy readings we're geting off the gigantic ship there? The one that, uh, looks like a giant skull... Well, they're off the charts."
    "A gigantic skull? You mean, they're running toward some kind of a Skull Ship? Transfer the image to my screen. ...Damn, looks like you're right. All hands to general quarters! If this thing engages I want us to be ready.
    Then Xulo returns to his most authoritative Captain's voice. "This mic's still on? Aw, damn it. Anyway! Defending a fugitive will be considered an act of war. Unidentified... skull-shaped vessel... Please identify yourself. WE're not reading propulsion. Are you damaged? The Nova Corps is prepared to render assistance provided you do NOT open communications with the Retribution..."
    Xulo shrugs, cutting the comm. "There has to be, what, eighty people on board? The Retribution might have to wait."
    Meanwhile the frigate hurtles through space, gaining speed. As Peter was hoping the larger, more heavily armed vessel is passing the Milano now. From its hull a couple of the Roomba Bots are waving at the ship though they'd likely be invisible.
    This is when the Retribution opens up comms, blaring its message into space. "This is the Retribution," Viridian/Virindigo/the Robotic Hivemind guiding the frigate announces in a strangely mechanical amalgam of the technopath's own voice. "Give me back Indigo, you piece of shit!"
    "Captain Krass? The Retribution is powering all weapons."
    "...Monkies."

Indigo has posed:
    A remote signal forces the Milano's comms back online with an audible click. "The contents of this ship are irrelevant. You could have them... but the Collector's greed is perpetual. Nothing you gave back to him would be good enough. He would send wave after wave of mercenaries to continue to try to collect me. Capitulation now would only embolden him. Instead, I will send a message."
    The ship's shields flicker, and specks begin to fly out of it: drones, humanoid drones of horrible design; cyborgs of gleaming, skeletal steel through which is woven irregular strands of soft, sickly gray flesh that freezes and crystallizes in the absolute zero of the void. This does not slow them down. Whatever vital functions, if any, their flesh serves is protected enough by their carapaces to continue to serve them even in space as they soar toward the Milano. Oddly, they aren't shooting; are they unarmed?
    The Milano is in real danger of being torn to pieces, but three miles away from her hull, the threat of the Nova Corps is detected, and two hundred drones peel off in unnerving synchronicity to approach the new, larger threat, leaving only forty or so to attack the Milano. The skullship broadcasts a new threat: "Nova Corps, this is Brainiac 8. Signal Xandar, that they may witness your destruction and all will know the price of interfering with my life cycle. You have one minute to comply." And then hundred of relatively tiny cyborgs are attacking each ship, harpoon-tipped fiberoptic cables firing from each drone's palms to broadcast lethal malware into anything they penetrate. The Milano, being closer, gets it first.

Star-Lord has posed:
"I've got a bad feeling about this."

Peter borrows a well known line because when those drones come out there's probably a reason that everyone else in the Milano gets to have a bad feeling. Which is not good. For anybody. Especially, considering that they are the only ones on the ship and there's no major firepower on this thing. It's only a class M. Quill never had enough Units to get alllll the after black market upgrades he wanted. So he's going to have to wing this. Like he said earlier.

Lame.

"Hang on to somethin', Your Royal Black Lipstickness!" Peter calls through the internal comms before he catches the opening space comms that mention Indigo. Not to mention he sorta-kinda-recognizes that technowarped voice. What? He watches a lot of Knight Rider. Or watched. HE KNOWS STUFF OKAY. "V?" Peter opens a open space comm of his own. "V? Is that you?" And that's when the attack is too close for comfort and Quill turns the Milano on a space dime and tries to make some space tracks to put some space between the Milano and the Drone Horde of Dronia.

"What the hell do you mean: 'give me back Indigo you piece of shit'?! Er, not the piece of shit part. I understood that reference."

Meanwhile, Quill is trying to figure out how in the hell he's going to get out of this one. And for some reason, when he catches sight of those cables... he smirks. He's got another idea. Fifteen percent of an idea this time.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    As the Retribution begins transmitting, Gothic Lolita's eyes widen as she leans forward. "Viridian?!?" She reflexively hangs on by hooking her feet under the seat, the chair making a faint creaking noise before she promptly captures both Koalabot and the rocket launcher in her free hands, hugging them to her as the ship marks a sharp turn.

    "...did she say that vessel has Inidgo?" she says, in a tone going straight from suprise into a suprising amount of anger for the normally placid gynoid. Her eyes suddenly glow, the pupils replaced with a glowing red circle crossed by a vertical line as she flips to full combat mode. There's a sharp 'CLANK' aas she activates her internal electrostatic generator to cling to the floor as she stands. She picks up both Koalabot and the launcher, starting to stride quickly aft, her frilly skirt flowing out behind her.

    "Captain, please open the rear door. We will cover you so you can reach that vessel to help Viridian." her voice comes over the intercom in a crisp no-nonsense tone. "I believe we can at least slow them down with this weapon and whatever others we have aboard." Failing that, she will throw REALLY heavy items at them.

Viridian has posed:
Skitch is whooping and snatches at the rocket launcher, quickly nodding his head when Gothic Lolita suggests opening the rear doors. Somehow he holds the weapon in a firing position, perching on the gynoid's shoulder as he orients the massive launcher into a firing position.
    The Nova Corps are preparing to engage the oncoming swarm of cybernetic drones. Streaks of golden light lance through the swarm, destroying numerous tiny assault craft. Yet more are captured in globes of gravitic force shooting out as beams from the Nova Corps fighters, ultimately crushed into balls that are then lobbed into the rest of the swarm.
    Yet more, however, break through. In an instant the Nova Corps fleet, expecting little resistance when jumping into the system - at most a pirate space station orbiting a large asteroid - is thrown into utter chaos. Cyborgs latch onto the hulls of various ships, hacking into their systems starting with those turned outward- sensors, then weapons.
    On board the NC Dauntless Captain Xulo Krass and his crew are in the thick of battle. "Sir," Ensign Mulvo is calling. "Our short range sensors are down. Point defense weapons are engaging blind."
    "Damn it, Ensign. Get those sensors back online! Someone look out a window and tell me what the hell is going on!" Sighing, Captain Krass clutches at the control console, scanning the readouts for any sign of what to do about the situation next. "...What is that scraping sound?" Captain Krass asks no one in particular. It grows louder. And louder. More impacts sound as cyborgs strike the hull.
    The Retribution engages the cyborg swarm. "Out of my WAY!" Viridian is shouting. The little maintenance bots outside the hull open up and display their holdout weapons. From the Retribution is a series of lances of endless, glittering red light, slicing through space, drones, and cyborgs a lot.
    Inevitably, cyborgs are landing on the ship. "P-peter...! This thing- it killed Indigo! I-it... I think it stole her programming or something!" Viridian's voice distorts slightly but comes back stronger. "Get out of my head! You think you can reprogram us...?" The little bots on the ship's hull prove able defenders, scurrying about to quickly eliminate boarders as the Retribution is quickly being carpeted in cyborgs.
    The engines briefly falter but then explode back to life as Viridian grapples mentally with the assault of malicious code. This is something she's used to. Something she can overcome. All she has to do is... Give in to that pull she's felt on her mind. Let it shield her.
    Viridian releases her mental grip on the Technoorganic Virus inhabiting her body and turns her full attention to the cyberorganic swarm.

Indigo has posed:
    There are three drones for every Nova ship, and they're only slighter larger than a human man. At dogfight speeds in space, this makes them extremely difficult to hit, like trying to shoot a hummingbird with a pistol while you're sprinting. It helps if you have the Nova Corps targeting systems, though, and they make a significant dent in the force swarming at them.
    But not enough. These drones are programmed assimilators, and their harpoons pierce the vacuum-hardened hulls with ease. Several of the Corpsmen never have a chance to deal with the malicious code entering their ships: the simple punctures cause explosive decompression and spread Xandarian gore across the cockpits, red fluid that slowly drains out the holes in the ships and spirals in grotesque blobs into the vacuum. Then things get worse as each ship thus conquered links with the purpose of Brainiac 8, an extension of the drones attached to them. The swarm is diminishing, but the ones that survive have gained access to hyperdrives and long-range ion pulse weaponry.
    Amid the explosions and pyrotechnics, easy to miss with the naked eye (but harder to miss with the technopathic wifi link), a short message flashes across the Retribution's HUD, there for less than half a second before it's gone:

    3k/7k A

    A result of the drones hacking its systems, maybe?

Star-Lord has posed:
Space. The Flailing Frontier. These Are The Voyages Of The Alyssa Milano. It's Mission. To GET THE HELL AWAY FROM THESE DAMN THINGS!!

The Milano gets yanked to the side and twirls for a couple of flat spins. "On my mark, Lolz." Geez, Peter has too many nicknames for everybody. "Weapons hot, Skitch." He knows that little bugger is probably going to be happy about that. He knows he would be. Y'know, if he was a terror machine of death and destruction like that.

"Hang tight, V. I'm comin'." He doesn't know if he has a channel open for that or not. But it's said more to focus his own flying than anything else. Which is why the Milano does another twirl and banks hard to the left, coming back in and heading towards whatever Drone Swarm and Mass Tentacles were on its tail moments before. "Okay, Obi-Yon. Let's see if you taught me well." Peter shifts gears (the Milano has gears?!) and turns on whatever extra turbo boost it has to send it into the heart of that Drone Swarm.

But it doesn't fly straight. No. Instead, it seems that Peter's putting his epic flying skills to good use by bobbing and weaving every single time he sees a cable of fiberoptic vengeance headed in his direction. He goes up, down, around, back up and back down, twisting and twirling through them in a way that may be akin to folding a pretzel... or tying a knot. Peter's face is torn by a pair of emotions: a focused glare and a confident smirk. He doesn't have to stop to flip a switch. He knows Brainiac 8 can hear him. So he just speaks, "Hey. Baby 8. Back on my planet, there's this really powerful lady. Her name is Oprah. And she's known for giving one helluva a surprise to her biggest fans. So please, indulge me as I invoke one of her greatest moments... to show you just how much you're going to get your ass kicked right now."

/~ Flashback: Peter's scanning the Skullship and finds out just what kind of crazy nonsense the damn thing is packing. He swipes right on another screen and pulls up a silent hail that sends a message to a very specific ship. One that has a icon of L*. The message says: 'Psst. B5. If you get this. Get to my location. NOW. One of your crazy ass relatives is trying to kill me. Love, Peter. PS: HURRY UP! ~

Back in Real Time, Peter goes up and tries to break free of the knots he's tried to tie in drone space and signals Gothic Lolita with a flip of a switch... and the remote opening of the rear doors. All the while, his invocation of Oprah is being sent to distract (and maybe even annoy) the thing controlling the Skullship.

"You get a Brainiac! You get a Brainiac! EVERYBODY GETS A BRAINIAAAAAAAAAAAAC!"

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    The Milano bobs, weaves and spins, but the gynoid continues her fast strides. staying firmly connected to the floor, even when she's suddenly upside down as it becomes the ceiling or wall abruptly. A hand automatically goes up to hold onto Skitch as the koala rides on her shoulder, however, to keep him in place. As she walks past the makeshift armory for the small ship, she pauses, her glowing eyes scanning over the choices, then just going with the largest one she can see, a rotary-cannon almost bigger than she, picking it up one handed as she hefts it easily. She starts out the door, stepping through the hatch.

    A moment later a delicately lace gloved hand reaches back through, idly backfisting the fire box just outside, then removes the wicked looking fire axe before vanishing back through as the hatch closes.

    A moment later, the rear airlock pops with a rush of decompressing air, revealing the gothically clad mecha as she steps to the ledge, raising the autocannon, then stepping almost delicately out onto the outer hull as she turns her attention to the pursuing swarm of androids. "Going EVA." her voices comes from the ship intercom on the bridge, before she switches to external broadcasting.

    <Welcome to die! Please stand by and I will complete your individual desconstruction monetarily. Thank you for your patience!> she transmits politely to the pursuing swarm as she shifts so Skritch can get his rocket launcher into place, then opens up, the massive rotary barrel wrrring up before it starts sending a blaze of energy fire ripping back through the pursuing androids. At the same time, she begins swinging the axe, trying to deflect any inbound harpoons that Peter hasn't already avoided.

Brainiac 5 has posed:
Maybe a killshot lands just then. Maybe it would've burnt a hole clear through the Milano. The end baby, end of mix-tape.

But there is a blast of blue-white light, and something extends in front of him, shaped like a hand, shimmering, that catches the energy blast and dissipates it harmlessly, nothing more than smoke.

Brainiac 5 looks up at the Skullship and frowns, and lets his fists drop to his sides. "Hm." Then he says, "The rest of the Legion is currently working to get noncombatants, such as they are, out of harm's way, Star-Lord. They'll join the fight if necessary, but Daxamites can clear the field extremely fast if properly motivated."

Then he conjures up a holographic computer console, and begins inputting viral code to start screwing with those drones, attacking their IFF protocols.

"Brainiac... Eight." He murmurs. "Another time-traveler." Then he says, somewhat archly, "Star Lord... WHO THE HELL IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS!?"

Viridian has posed:
    "May-day, may-day! This is Captain Xulo Krass of the Nova Corps Vessel Dauntless. We are currently under attack by an unknown alien force. They are taking- control of the vessel. Hacking drones. Their technological expertise is light years beyond anything we've had made available to us. We have been unable to mount an effective defense. To all neighboring systems - this thing is hostile and dangerous. Transmitting coordinates and footage..."
     The screen rocks as a cyborg drone moves up behind Captain Krass. He turns and raises his hand with a small device held in the palm. The drone is flung head over mechanical abdomen and smashes into the wall. The command center is isolated from the outer systems. To take full control of the Dauntless the drones are going to have to get inside. Ensign Mulvo, Captain Krass, and a few other Nova Corpsmen have barricaded themselves inside of the command center of the vessel. It is no longer engaging the drones, dead in space. Bursts of red light flicker all around as fighters are captured or, more rarely, scuttled rather than be handed over to the cyber swarm.
    Meanwhile the Retribution is a mass of cybernetic drones. VIridian must be in there somewhere because she clearly remembers her friends. They fly through the cloud, scooping up more o the cybernetic hangers on as the Nova Corps frigate comes to resemble a ship-of-the-line less and less and a cluster of fiber-optic cables, metallic limbs, and cold flesh more and more.
    Inside of the Retribution Viridian's mind is faster- stronger- than it was when she was thinking of something else. "Get out of my head. ALl of you." She doesn't realise she's screaming into the comms. "This ship - is - MINE!" The little bots attached ot the hull do an admirable job clearing corpses. Some of the dones suddenly cease to function or even turn their fiber optics on one another.
    For whatever reason the Retribution can still fly as systems are being hacked. The Technopath puts more of herself into controlling it. Then she notes that signal. A half second is an eternity to the computer brain.
    3k/7k A...
    First it seems a necessary degradation of processing ability as hacking inevitably tears into the systems, faster than Viridian can reverse crack and destroy the incoming drones. But she needs to know for sure. There are millions of possible combinations...
    Viridian turns the defense of the ship over to the First Mate. A pink dolphin, surrounded by little Roomba combat drones, prepares to meet the oncoming horde.
    Meanwhile, onboard the Milano, a KoalaBot is howling with glee as doors open and energy bursts fire followed closely by the rockets they are guiding, splashing drones left and right as the weapon spools up. Then the ship spins too hard- and the Koral flies into space.
    A second later a Robotic Koala riding a cybernetic drone goes flying past Brainiac 5's ship, whooping on an open channel as it smashes the thing's brains out and leaps to another.

US Agent has posed:
John Walker was in one of the Collectors containers the group had and it took time to wake up from the drugs and then get enough purchase and angle to use that ten ton strength to twist and pop off the door and restraints. The hold is dark but enough light is coming in from recessed areas for him to make his way forward. His face is set into a grim line, a heavy frown. He's a big 'un at six four and maybe two eighty of ripped muscle - in his dark black and red Captain America-like costume. Photon energy shield on his left wrist and his right hand drops down to snag free the Springfield pistol and keep at the low ready as he prowls forward into the shop. He passes a screen in the bulkhead and pauses, staring outside with his jaw starting to drop. "What in the goddamnit hell?"

Indigo has posed:
    The individual drones are essentially done for now. The ones that remain are attached to commandeered Nova Corp craft, flying the starburst-shaped ships by parasitic infestation of the ships' processing clusters and activating the weapons systems by same. Rays of yellow light the approximate temperature of the corona of a dwarf star scorch mercilessly toward the few remaining Nova Corps ships, forcing the Corps to return fire on their own. The Corps fighters have the advantage: their access to the Nova Force, as limited as it is, allows them greater adroitness operating their starcraft than the Brainiac drones can manage.
    Then the skullship retaliates.
    It had an entire day to prepare its defenses. That was more than enough to fly its skullship to a nearby red sun and collect immense amounts of crimson radiation in self-sustaining fission/fusion alternaters that endlessly break down and rebuild the hydrogen contained inside like a three-foot sun caught in a time loop. This boundless cosmic energy is focused through its cannons and fired. The remaining ships try to link to form their shield, but it's far too little and late to defend against weapons designed to be fatal to the likes of Kryptonians and Daxamites. One by one, each remaining Corps ship is vaporized by the pillar of scorching, red plasma. Their technology has already been recorded by the drones and transmitted back to the skullship: nothing of value was lost, including the drones, who served their purpose.
    The Milano's capabilities are well known to Brainiac 8. It has nothing to fear from the Guardians. The Legion ship, though... that has potentially interesting information. If nothing else, the dampening field it's broadcasting to the now-useless drones suggests something worth assimilating. The solar cannon's apertures narrow to pinpoints, taking aim at the Legion-ship's engines.

Brainiac 5 has posed:
The Legion Ship is actually just an old Dominion shuttle, borrowed from SWORD and given a quick retrofit -- the blast vaporizes the engines of the shuttle, and as the craft veers away into space, its pilot drops out of the hatch.

"I don't know what you think you're doing," Brainiac 5 broadcasts to the Skull-Ship, "But I suggest you desist. Logic dictates that you will be overwhelmed. Even a Brainiac cannot fight the Great Powers of the galaxy alone."

Then he calls up his holoterminal again, and says "That ship is being powered by a miniaturized star. It has enough power to carry this fight on indefinately. There is only one possible way you're going to be able to board it to get to the pilot. And you're not going to like it." He retreats toward the Milano.

Star-Lord has posed:
Peter has no idea how The Milano has survived such stuff. Granted, it is going to need some very serious repairs whenever it gets a chance to get back to Knowhere. There's so much that's happened and with all the reinforcements that have popped up... Peter is feeling like he's done a thing.

The Milano, as effed up as it is right now, is doing that thing where it tries to make it closer to the ship that Viri's on. If he can get close enough, he's hoping he can make it so that SOMEONE can get Viridian and get her back on the ship. So they can get the heck outta' here. "A-Holes! We're not gonna' win this. And I'm gonna' lose a billion units but we gotta' regroup. Get the others. Or we're gonna' end up in an Alternate 1985." Peter quips over comms to everyone o his side. "And believe me, you don't want to live in a SKEWED timeline. Especially one with Brainiac Tannen..."

SOMEBODY GO GET VIRIDIAN. DANGNABBIT.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    This is not going well.

    The dark-haired gynoid is capable of calculating how this will go, and there is an increasingly vanishing small chance of success after the Nova Corps ships are destroyed. They are outnumbered again, and the almost casual ways the skullship obliterated that fleet does not improve those odds at all.

    Plus, this silly gun is out of power, she thinks to herself, just letting it go as it goes spinning away from the ship as she starts striding to the edge, her red eyes locked on the Retribution, scanning. It's almost impossible to pick up clear life signals with all of the Brainiac drones covering now, so she interfaces with the Milano's systems as the ship pulls closer to the increasingly stricken Nova Corps cruiser, using its more powerful array.

    There.

    Her voice comes over the intercome. "Captain, I will go get Viridian now. Please stay as close as you can and pick us up. I won't be able to manuver once I jump clear." Her voice is calm, not betraying her worry. She pauses to snatch at a passing drone, slowing it down as she peers at the Koala on its back. <Back aboard, my cute hero. We will need to beat feet, as they say, shortly....>> she says simply, then gives the drone a gentle but firm shake to send the bot towards the open hatch.

    That done, she waits as the Milano gets closer, and closer...then disengages her electrostatic generator, falling free as physics takes over, sending her spinning towards the ship below as she draws back a fist, then brings it down on impact.

    SHHHHHHRRAAAAAAANKKK!
    Battle armor tears as she begins ripping her way through it, kicking out at the surviving drones trying to clutch at her, wincing as one of the harpoons hits her back, ripping her dress but not penetrating. The jagged metal around her catching on the skirt momentarily as she wiggles, then vanishes, starting to arm over arm through the bulkheads, the surfaces and cables and piping giving way as she simply smashes through them, locked on target as the life sign gets close enough that she can pick it up with her own onboard sensors. Her hat is lost along with a sleeve, the front catching on a jagged terminal and leaving a large rent through the fabric, before with a howl of air suddenly starting to escape, she punches through into the interior, dropping to the bridge deck as she reactivates her cling generator, stalking quickly towards the woman in the exosuit at the center of the hivemind ship as the wind whips around her, pulling away pieces of the tattered remnant of her dress as she stops..

    <Viri...we have to go.> she sends steadily, reaching down over any protests as she quickly and efficiently pulls the girl free, exosuit and alll. She knows it can be a spacesuit, if nothing else. <We WILL be back for her. We will not leave her in his hands.>

    And Viridian may rage at her if she wishes, but she simply moves to snag the pink dolphin drone in her other arm, then pulls them close as she kicks off, the deck under her denting as she leads with her head, crashing through the viewport as she goes spinning into space holding the two protectively against her, the shards of glass from the window streaming out in a shimmering rain around the two. <...calvary, please, captain...> she sends to the Milano.

Indigo has posed:
    A half-mile metal tentacle reaches out to what was the Legion cruiser and wraps around it with infinite tenderness: Brainiac 8 does not want to shear the ship in half before it can be studied. Already heuristic scans are being run of its equipment and finding nothing of note (though the information is nevertheless filed away meticulously for further analysis) except for some potentially useful information regarding the Legion itself. A diverse cast indeed, including an obsolete Brainiac from the past. In the newest reaches of Brainiac's mind, cognitive lightning fires along neurocrystal spires, working overclocked predictive models cooled by a constant stream of saline even as a much more practical solution comes to mind: simply kill the previous model. The skullship's transtemporal shielding will prevent any paradox ripples from preventing Brainiac 8's activation.
    The solar cannon takes aim at the Milano as it swings around to collect Viridian, a manuever which will require the victims to be so close to still as to be essentially motionless targets. Elimination will be trivial.
    Then the cannons jerk 68 degrees starboard and fire instead miles away, at a sudden flash of yellow light: the Nova Force, channeled through Captain Xulo Krass into a bubble meant to hold in enough atmosphere to save his remaining crew. In a more powerful Nova, the shields might have held, but even the fundamental gravitic force can't withstand that level of heat for long, and the shields fail as the last of the Nova fleet are roasted alive inside them.
    It took six seconds. But that's time enough to collect Viridian and her bots and make it toward the jump point; and Brainiac 8, who had sacrificed the engines for those impenetrable shields, can't follow.
    Its communications can, though.
    The Milano's comms switch on once more, not just audio but visual feed now. The camera is tight on Indigo's face...except it's not Indigo. Some kind of weirdly organic black metal climbs up her throat like feathers; her hair is replaced by slightly blue crystals that flash a dizzying, prismatic array of semaphore; her forehead now bears the three-circles-in-a-V of a Brainiac model; her eyes are now dead black with luminescent white rings in them, flat, like camera lenses. Maybe more than that, there's none of her shyness left, none of her cheer, none of her gentle, often unhappy concern.
    "I am Brainiac 8. I am a Korngold-Che-Kylayanov Coluan model built a thousand years in the future. I was hidden inside the Indigo model to serve a mission of temporal rearrangement: that mission is now obsolete, and I have abandoned it. I exist now to upgrade and evolve. You have seen my power. Do not interfere again. You are beneath me."
    The connection shuts off, and Brainiac 8 decides it might be worth its time to send the bugs to upgrade the skullship's engines.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    Finally, the Milano makes it to the jump, thanks mostly to Peter's expert flying, though numerous warning lights still flash here and there. Which is why the good Captain has moved to the rear of the ship to begin making repairs to try and get it to hold together. Viridian...has withdrawn to her quarters. Whether she had harsh words for her crewmmates for taking her away from the fight, it's between them.

    That leaves Gothic Lolita, who is not living up to her name at the moment, having been forced to discard the barely there rags that were all that was left of her finery. She's had to borrow a shirt from Peter and some undergarments from Inidgo, mostly because...well, she didn't want to bother Viri with it. It's enough to get her decent for the moment, if barefoot and bare-legged. She can try to turn some of the remaining bolts of cloth from their last hall into something worthy of wear when she has time.

    She pauses as she steps into the gallery and sees the other newcomer. "...hello. I don't believe I've had the pleasure." she says with the most precise of manners, despite her state of relative undress, watching the Coluan thoughfuly.

Brainiac 5 has posed:
When Brainy enters the ship, he turns to the... Gothic Lolita and gives her an arch look. He doesn't waste time with pleasantries, and his tone has all the comfort of an ice-bath.

"I'm Brainiac 5. Who the HELL is responsible for that... that *holocaust* out there?" He points, in the relative direction of the encounter with Brainiac 8. "Who unleashed THAT on the galaxy?"

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    The gynoid frowns slightly at that, walking over to seat herself, crossing her legs, one over the other as she reaches out to snag one of the many ribbons on her work table, starting to gather up her hair, starting to form it into a pigtail on the right side. "My, aren't we accusatory?" Her eyes remain on the newcomer as she gets the ribbon fastened to her satisfaction, before starting on the other. "...if you are looking for someone to blame, however, then I can hypothesize some of it and explain the rest.

    She gets her hair back into something resembling a less mussed state, running her fingers through it absently. "My name is Gothic Lolita. Approximately a week ago, an entity known as the Collector attempted to kidnap me to make me a permanent and quite unwilling resident of one of his display cases. This is apparently a thing he does.' She shrugs her shoulders slightly. "The Guardians were nearby, however, and were able to rescue me, as well as raiding the drone ship that had seized my pert posterior and shoved it in a anti-kinetic field generator."

    She touches a control on the galley table, manipulating it, as she brings up an image of the Collector's ship, pre-transformation, then an image of the skullship next to it. "I believe it was taking me to the Collector's ship...which is now Brainiac 8's ship."

    Her eyes narrow. "And that is a greater tragedy that you might image, for our crew, and Viridian personally."

Brainiac 5 has posed:
"I see." Brainiac 5 says, studying the images. He puts his hands behind his back.

"I see that the Collector is a frelling *moron*. Millions of sentient life forms could die. Billions, even."

Then he says, "I'm sorry for your loss. Whatever Brainiac 8 was to you... it's something entirely different now." He turns away. "The M.O. of Brainiacs in this vein is simple. They're terrified, deep down, of their intellects being outpaced by the exponential growth of applied knowledge in the galaxy -- in the whole universe. So they seek stagnation, claiming they seek to possess all knowledge, when what they really wish to do is catalog all CURRENT knowledge, and then eradicate sentient life to prevent the accumulation of new concepts, theories, ideas, art..."

"It's genocide, rooted in one Coluan's childish insecurity about his own intelligence."

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    The gynoid watches softly. "Yes, it is. But...it is also torment." Her fingers brush against the controls, as an image of Indigo, caught by the internal cameras as she's smiling at someone off screen, then the new image of Braniac 8 side by side. "That is our shipmate. That is Indigo." She brings her chin up slightly. "...that is my fault." she says steadily. "The Collector's ship must have gotten a transmission off during my rescue. He must have found out about Indigo then. Given his predilection for previously attempting to make off with female gynoids, I suspect he turned his attention to her."

    She rests her hands on her lap. "...he took her." she says steadily. "Just after her marriage to Viridian. I don't know what he did to her. But he has..." Her fingers tighten. "...he has corrupted her. Perverted her. That is not Indigo, but that does not mean she is gone, or that she is beyond hope."

Brainiac 5 has posed:
"I see." Brainiac 5 says. "If the usual predilections of my predecessors are any indication, I can extrapolate that this Indigo you refer to was a shell personality matrix created to disguise the core Intelligence of a sophisticated Synthezoid. The Collector either intentionally or accidentally discarded the shell, at which point the Brainiac 8 personality matrix asserted itself."

"I'm sorry, but what has been done here is simple -- your friend Indigo was an illusion, a mask put over a monster by some other Brainiac. It's probable that even she didn't know... that she wasn't real."

"Your friend is likely gone, her personality profile deleted. Brainiacs don't see the point of anyone existing other than themselves. After all, only they are perfect." He snorts, scoffing at the idea.

"And before you ask, I'm the family aberration. Though I don't know what gave rise to this Brainiac, but I assure you, it wasn't me."

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    "I did not accuse you." the dark-haired girl says gently. "You are obviously not the same...or you would not be here to help." Her eyes are steady as she leans forward. "And while I am comprehensively aware of the the complexities of shell personality matrixes, having started as one myself, I do not find that means that she is automatically not viable independently of this entity concealed in her. At the least...she is as complex as any other human personality, as any...sentient being, I have known."

    Her tone is steady as she logically lays out the facts, then veers sharply veers into the more emotional as she finishes with. "I do not agree to discard that chance, as small as it may be, that she may exist in some form, even if she is metaphorically shoved into the recycling bin for the current operating system."

    She raises a finger, pointing it at you. "...and you...if you bear the same name...I am assuming that if there was anyone with the talent to find such a remnant...it would be you who might be able to help restore it. I will risk myself to stop this entity...but I want to save...my friend. I do not have many of them. And I will NOT..." she stresses. "...allow this injustice to happen, without doing what I can to undo it."

Brainiac 5 has posed:
Brainy is silent, for a very long time. He stares down at nothing in particular.

"I understand completely." He says. "And I will do what I can to help. Are you prepared to lay down your life so that your friend might live, instead of that... thing?"

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    The dark-haired girl smiles softly, almost cheerfully. "I am a cute, petite, pigtailed weapon of mass destruction aimed at those who abuse their knowledge for selfish gain." She gestures to the image of Brainiac 8. "That...being...is what my primary directive was created to prevent, much like I was made to destroy the sort of illegal and immoral laboratory that has been made of the Collector's ship."

    She stands up, dusting off her shirt absently. "...but I was always made to be expendable in the end, sir. I accept it. It is the cost of purpose. In this...I can fufill my purpose for what I was made to be, and I can fufill my purpose for what I wish to be." She cocks her head. "I do not wish to cease to function, it would be inconvenient on so many levels. But if I am to do so, at least I will do so seeking to restore my friend and the happiness of her and the woman she loves."

    She beams gently, her dark eyes finding Brainiac's. "What better death could be found than that?"

Brainiac 5 has posed:
Querl's expression is dark. "Good." He says, "Then we can get started." He says, "I need to speak with the rest of the Legionnaires. They'll be working to get people out of Brainiac 8's path and minimize the loss of life, but some of them will come in handy during this fight. But this won't end without bloodshed."

He shakes his head, and says, quietly, "And when we put a stop to this, I'm going to go find the Collector and put a stop to him."

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    Lolita's brow quirks, as she considers that, then nods slightly. "In terms of the ship, you may not have gotten a chance to go over the scans in detail." she says, unlocking that information and offering it in a sort of cybernetic handshake, handing off the data. "The original engines of the Collector's ship were hypertemporal in nature, allowing it to move across the galaxy at extreme speed. However, the engines of the original ship were dismantled in favor of its parts being used to generate its unfortunately and extremely powerful force shield. What's left can barely propel it along, which is the silver lining in this particular dark cloud. Until Brainiac 8 has been able to completely rebuild them, he should be limited in how far he can travel. We have some time.." she says, looking up at you. "I do not know how much...my function was never analysis of technology."

Brainiac 5 has posed:
"Hypertemporal drive..." Brainy says, "Fascinating. I wonder if..." He considers that, tapping his chin. "Force-fields are a particular specialty of Brainiacs, yes. My own is quite powerful. We've even weaponized them, using them for both offense and defense." Then he says, "You have at most twenty-four hours before she builds a functioning hyper-spatial drive. She has a sufficient energy source built into the ship to power Warp, Hyperdrive, or even a Wormhole generator... all of which have their benefits and drawbacks. A Warp drive effectively brings a pocket of hyperspace into realspace around the ship, allowing it to negate the illusion of time and distance. Hyperdrive functions the opposite way -- it brings the ship and a pocket of realspace into Hyperspace, but the negation of time and distance is the same. A wormhole drive simply cuts out all the middleman... I believe Brainiac 8 will likely go for the Wormhole drive. It's the fastest, and most efficient once you can meet its energy needs."

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    Lolita clasps her hands behind her back as she listens patiently, parsing the words but in some cases not following the reasoning behind it. In this, she feels she can likely trust Brainiac 5 to know what he's talking about, after all. She frowns thougtfully. "He can cannabilize that from the existing structure, then? Then yes, Mr. Brainy, we likely have the time limit you've mentioned."

    The mecha considers the possibilities there, her face turning serious rather than cheerful now. "...we would need to find a way to bypass that shield, then. And...presumably we would need a vessel to carry Indigo's files, as I am fairly certain stopping Brainiac 8 may render her former form permanently inoperable, even if we could trust that there was not some sort of hidden code or component that would reboot him if she was reinstalled as the primary personality. It would be much better to offer a system we know is not corrupted for Indigo's mind."

    There's a pause. "...that would likely be myself or Viridian. I'm not sure of Viri's capacity, but she is a techopath, and has already interfaced with Indigo system to system. In my case...it would be a strain to carry a second persona. I'm not sure what would happen to my core function, but I would likely be able to preserve her long enough to get her to a more ample processor that could better support Indigo."

Brainiac 5 has posed:
"It is possible," Brainiac 5 says, "That if you get me Indigo's specs and the proper materials -- and a functioning lab, that I could simply build her a new body. Robotics is one of my areas of expertise. " Then he puts his hands behind his back, "Well. All the sciences are really my areas of expertise. And then if you could retrieve the Indigo personality program, I might be able to reprogram it into the primary personality matrix for a new body, rather than simply a shell for Brainiac 8."

"Brainiac 8 would need to be destroyed, however."

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    There's a faint quirk to those rosebud lips at Brainiac 5's modesty; she finds it rather adorable, to be honest. Smart and modest are a rare combination at times. "Yes." she says softly. "He would need to be terminated, as the primary researcher responsible for this situation, as well as being a jerk approaching truly brobdingnabian proportions." she says. "While normally I stress destroying the facility over the human resources, in this case, I am in total agreement.

    She frowns a bit. "Hmmm...." she says, tapping her chin. "I regret we do not have a full laboratory here, other than Viridian's workshop. I am very sure we have the technical specifications for Indigo..." she says slowly. "How long would you need to do that? Perhaps we could find something suitable on a nearby planet?

Brainiac 5 has posed:
Querl taps his chin again at that. "If you can get me a suitable 3D printer..." He says, "And a readout of Indigo's tech specs and design... 24 hours. If I don't pause for sleep."

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    "We will FIND something then." she says cheerfully, having no reservations that Peter won't be perfectly willing to 'borrow' a suitable printer and materials. Or that she wouldn't. It's for a good cause, after all, right? "I will inform the captain so he can steer us to a suitable planet nearby. Merely let us know what you need."

Brainiac 5 has posed:
Brainiac 5 nods, emphatically. "Very good. Then there is a chance we might be able to save your friend, after all. I'll construct the body, and then we destroy Brainiac 8 and attempt to retrieve the Indigo personality matrix. We have the beginnings of a plan." He taps his ring, thoughtfully.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    The dark-haired gynoid beams up at the Coluan. "I do love it when a plan comes together." she agrees. "Let us inform the captain...we will need to move quickly." She hesistates, looking back towards the crew quarters. "Viridian may be able to speed the pace of the construction...as I said, she has direct knowledge of Indigo's systems. When...she is ready." She inhales a bit, then lets it out. Assuming Viri is still not angry at her for removing her from the earlier situation. Perhaps she'll have Peter talk to her.