410/The Princes' Ride

The Princes' Ride
Date of Scene:	13 May 2017
Location:	A Somewhat Seedy Space Station in Saggitarius
Synopsis:	The Guardians of the Galaxy have been hired to kidnap a Prince. Or save him. Or something.
Cast of Characters:	Star-Lord, Indigo, Viridian, 223, StarDrake

---

Star-Lord has posed:
"... and this, this is very important. The Cargo must not be harmed. It is both precious and priceless." Broker's speaking over the mini-screen that the intolerable Peter Quill is holding in his hand.

Peter holds up a finger. "Ah-ah. Not priceless."

Broker rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Transferring the Units now. Just get it done. Quietly, if possible."

"You say that as if I'm ever anything but discreet." Peter grins at Broker but Broker just disengages the communication. He's tired of Peter's shit.

"Alright, A-Holes!" Peter pockets the mini-screen and spins around to look at his crew. Which he's gathered just outside of the Boot of Jemiah. They could be having drinks right now but instead they're on a mission. "We just got paid so we better make this happen." Peter grins at the gathered Guardians and pops the collar on the jacket. "The Cargo should be passin' through here any second now. Keep your eyes or your sensors or whatever peeled for Royal Seals or anything like that. I'll handle the distraction, the rest of you get the cargo. Then we're outta' here."

Peter smiles and looks over the crew. "Simple, right? Snatch and Grab. No muss, no fuss, no violunce."

Indigo has posed:
    Indigo nods at Peter. "Yes, Star-Lord," she agrees, a rather pleasant electronic hum under her voice. She collects a comm while she still has a hand to do so--she learned after the last experience not to be so quick to reconfigure her hands into gravitic cannon mode--and pops it into an ear that seems on hundred percent organic, if a bit oddly colored. She doesn't bother trying to blend in to the street: between her coloration and her physique, she's just too noticeable for that. She just stays where she is, with Viridian, whom she graces with a fond smile.

Viridian has posed:
    "No violence? Us? I think you've forgotten who you're talking to, Star Lord! I mean... Come on. Do we ever get off that easily?" Viridian shakes her head, her hair urrently a bright neon purple, easily swaying against her shoulders. A riot of giggling follows that motion, heard over the comms despite the fact Viri doesn't wear one. She stands near a console she doesn't touch for now, watching the dispalys thoughtfully. "Max..." The young woman murmurs, tilting her head to the left as she does and speaking apparently to no one. " Right. Okay. Just keep an eye on Quill." Then the girl looks up to smile brightly at Indigo, keeping the robotic exoskeleton she rides about on stationary while she waits.

Ryand'r (223) has posed:
As far as dens of iniquity go, you couldn't ask for anything more than this place. Aside from the draw of the drinks and the Orloni races, there were thousands of illicit deals and transactions being carried out in booths, deals sealed with hidden clauses to backstab, and in some cases an outright promise. Of the people milling about, there is one particular individual who stands out from the nearby crowds.

Nearly six feet tall, the deep purple cloak and hood don't quite manage to hide the fact that he has tawny-orange skin, which has a certain healthy corpuscular quality to it that one might be forgiven to, at a careless glance, confuse it for the golden color of certain races. But the gold-skinned ones usually don't hide, they tend to make a walk to the grocery store into a processional parade, subtlety clearly something that isn't deemed a genetic necessity. This person, however, is clearly trying not to look conspicuous. They also don't seem to have any training in subterfuge or disguise, which means that they are only the more conspicuous for it. A glimpse of eyes that are totally green, including the sclera, would confirm the suspicions: Tamaranean

He is walking hurriedly, occasionally looking over his shoulder. Moving among the crowd are certain individuals. Oridnary-looking men and women, five in total. It is harrd to spot them at first, because they look like they fit and thrive in this disreputable atmosphere, but some moments of observation will allow an observer to see that those individuals are converging on a common path. One that takes them to the person in the purple cloak.

StarDrake has posed:
Mikh Drakos is the power-armored figure on the other end. The one that looks a bit like a videogame character, to be honest, from "Crysis" or some bit of fluff that's never made it out this far from Earth. He was sent here by the Space Doggity with a promise that the StarDrake will get the next courier mission but in the meantime, there's this thing that this guy who's a friend needs to have backup and ... yeah. Telepathic mutant doggies will talk your ears off even if you don't have them at the moment. So he's here, in what seems to be the standardly wretched hive of scum and commerce.

Mikh quietly does passive scans of the other figures gathered here. What is this "Cargo" and why is it so important anyway? Why does Cosmo want him to help this ... oh, hello. Someone with tech he can't scan... well that's intriguing. Possibly his own readings will confuse or intrigue her, a biomimetic robot with 30th-century Terran technology in places, wearing and tightly integrated with what pretends to be alien bio-armor. He sings faintly inside the armor, "Gonna be the future soon..." //wait did I have the speaker turned on?//

//Where is that cargo?//

Star-Lord has posed:
"I got eyes on the prize."

Star-Lord says into the comm that's attached to his ear. He's pretty sure the rest of his A-Holes have put themselves in positions they need to be in because he's already started to make his moves. Mostly because he's an unscrupulous fellow and that means he can spot others like him from a click away. Yondu taught him how to do that so that's what he's done about those converging patrons on the same path.

"Makin' my move."

Peter stumbles away from his part of the wall and right in the general direction of whatever server that shouldn't be walking on one tentacle. He makes sure to stomp on that one tentacle to create a masterful commotion of falling and spilling that allows him the opportunity to trip and fall and make a big dramatic deal out of it so that everybody's eyes in the Boot can come his direction for just a moment. He just needs a moment of attention so that his Guardians can grab Purple Rain over there...

Indigo has posed:
    Indigo spotted Ryand'r too. He...stands out. She's moving quickly--not superhumanly quickly; that's not in her hardware--toward Ryand'r and seizes him by the elbow in mid-stride, never breaking her near-trot as she walks him toward the nearest alley and explains, "I'm Indigo, please come with me Prince Ryand'r we mean you no harm but hurry!"
    Here's hoping she got that out fast enough to not start a fight, and/or that Ryand'r isn't willing to start a fight in front of all these witnesses.

Viridian has posed:
    Viridian moves much more awkwardly but with long strides that carry her surprisingly quickly after Indigo. Whomp, whomp. The frame isn't meant for tight maneuvers but it can keep up with a person sprinting easily. She blinks as Indigo snags Ryand'r and nods her head a couple times before looking back across all the peopel around them. "No harm at all," she agrees in a squeak. Her hair is coloured a deep shade of royal blue suddenly. It's a pretty abrupt shift, gradual yet sudden. "Promise."

Ryand'r (223) has posed:
Normally Ryand'r wouldn't be so easily surprised, it's not normal for a warrior of his training to be intercepted like that- but things are different right now. He is tense, and worried. When Indigo touches him, she manages to grab hold of his bare arm- if he hadn't known her language of choice, he knows it now, and understands. He turns to look at her as he is propelled by her fast trot, and it's clear that he is very young.

"Who sent you?" he asks quietly, his hand moving away from the hidden blaster that rests under his cloak after she quickly states that she comes in peace. "Where are you taking me?"

He sounds earnest, but the truth of the matter is that he doesn't trust her. He has no reason to. It would be veary easy to lead him towards a trap and away from a wider area in which to maneuver, being led away under false pretenses. For now, he allows her to guide him, but he also shoots anotehr glance over his shoulder.

He's had hints, out of the corner of his eye, that he was being followed. But his chasers kept their distance. Perhaps it had all been a ruse to force him to quicken his step, and for him to trust an unexpected stranger who suddenly offered help?

He digs his heels before he gets to the alley, "Who are you?"

He drops an arm to his side, but doesn't reach for anything. Yet.

StarDrake has posed:
Auxiliary team has sequestered cargo. Targeting sensors have five persons moving in intercept pattern. Prevent interception. For flesh and blood people, this sort of thing is a function of training and instinct and it's seldom as precise as the targeting and intercept protocols that Mikh's running in his second consciousness thread. He moves, silently, and one of them suddenly trips and falls, then another. There are curses and flailing as other people trip over them. The three remaining individuals of interest change direction. One of them - let's call her OverWitch - goes up and overhead trying to locate the mark, while the other two (Hunt and Peck) attempt an end-around. Meanwhile, the ones on the floor are struggling, one of them (Hans) about to pull a ... no not a rabbit out of his hat, a vibro-dagger to cut the fibers of the net that sprang up under him. The other (Grett) can't reach her vibro-knife and is in a bad position with an eel-based life-form flopped over her, damply splashing in its moist-suit as it discharges electrical distress.

OverWitch sees that and considers just shooting the eel, but she might hit Grett and that would be a fine, she already owes too many fines for shooting her own teammates.

Star-Lord has posed:
Somehow, Peter managed to land on a pile of yellow skinned ladies with two extra tongues a piece. It takes him a bit longer than normal to get back to his feet. In fact, for the longest short moments he doesn't even look like he's actually trying to get out of the pile of alien babes. He's got the biggest smile on his face. When other commotion kicks in, though, his memory is jogged back to the fact that he's on a job.

"Mmmmnnnn. Later." Peter says to himself, himself, himself himself himself! -- and the Yellow Babe Brigade. He's practically kicking himself as he's headed in the direction of Hunt or Peck. He's not quite sure which one.

"Hey, look! Audrey II!" Star-Lord points off in a random direction and hopes the distraction is good enough to distract Hunt or Peck long enough for him to snatch the nearest server's tray and smash it into Hunt or Peck's face!

Because that's exactly what he's doing!

He's got to keep these guys off his Guardians so they can secure The Cargo.

Indigo has posed:
    Indigo is more than strong enough to force Ryand'r in, even if his own strength is equal to hers: strength doesn't ground you. The fact that he stops her confirms her can fly. This thought interests her for 1/500th of a second before it's filed away and the mission is left for her to worry about. She makes a nakedly pleading face at him and repeats, "I'm Indigo. This is Viridian. We're Guardians of the Galaxy and you're being watched so please!" She tugs his arm suggestively toward the alley, but isn't willing to force it yet. Either the display behind them of people being attacked and drawing their weapons will convince him, or it won't.

Viridian has posed:
Viridian is biting her bottom lip and reaching for a small orb she has on her belt as she surveys the world surrounding her. She takes a deep breath and then glanes upward, frowning. "We need to get out of here. Now. Now now now. Come on, we have to get to the ship. Fighting's already start...ed..." Tori losdk between Indigo and Ryand'r, those eyes wide. "Please?" Now that blue hair is turning to a lime green colour, framing her blue eyes and thoughtful, pale face. Then on comms, "There are five of them. have you seen them all yet, Star Lord?"

Near Peter approaches an obloid pink thing that floats easily through the air, bedecked in fins. It is, in fact, a pink dolphin. One that is now deploying what appears to be a laser pod inside of its mouth. The dolphin trills and then a beam of red light fires out. Warning shot! The dolphin isn't really in position yet. Max is on duty, though. And he's deploying weapons.

Ryand'r (223) has posed:
The sound of struggle draws Ryand'rs attention, and the young prince looks conflicted. He can resist and head into the fray, to try his luck at a warrior's death rather than be dragged into a trap, or...

Do the sensible thing and try to avoid conflict, because he is somewhere where he has no backup, no ship, and survival is his main priority- Koriand'r is out there, somewhere, sold into slavery by their sister. She needed him.

"Very well," he says reluctantly and begins to move, letting the Guardians guide him.

However, he reaches under his cloak and draws the blaster strapped to his side, in case they may need cover fire.

"What is your plan of escape?" He might as well know the route they intend for him.

StarDrake has posed:
Hunt is now known as Unconscious Platter-face McSmashyNose, for obvious reasons. These guys are professionals, really, they're well paid, they're the best. OK, they've had a few setbacks recently. OverWitch got a bad virus-prevention download, and she's been shooting her guys, and they haven't all recovered from it and their boss, Whim O'Death (yes, that's his real name) has been warning her that he will kill her himself and then bring her back so he can kill her again if she shoots another one of her partners. But Grett looks so ... vulnerable ... there with that eel-citizen sprawling over her. Hans starts cutting himself free, only to be subjected to a zero-range stun attack as Drakos puts a hand on his head and unleashes a bit of hell in his brain: flip-flop-flip-flop on a 10 nanosecond hypermagnetic pulse random delayed. He'll have SUCH a hangover if<<when he wakes up.

Now Peck is getting too close. The battle-armored conscripted-Guardian is momentarily blocked by a mother-nun and flock of "children" flouncing past ...

//Don't try to process them right now. You can be horrified and offended later// Mikh's strategy-thread says. Fine.

"Indigo. Incoming bounty hunter," Mikh says on the Guardian comm as the hunter closes in. Meanwhile, a pair of fins eject from his back and begin glowing brightly as he lifts up into the air to approach OverWitch. She dodges, but her attention is taken away from the situation below.

Indigo has posed:
    Indigo shakes her head at Ryand'r. "No plan yet, Your Highness. Your pursuers make it a bad idea to go straight to any safe port. Viridian is going to help you get lost in the alleys; I'm going to hang back slightly and engage with any pursuers to avoid drawing attention to your exact location. She'll know when I've made the situation as safe as I can." She flashes a quick, distracted, but hopeful smile at both the prince and her princess; a sweet, vulnerable, open expression perhaps somewhat at odds with the way her left arm is morphing, hydraulic microfibers in her synthaflesh reconfiguring to make room for the expanded housing of the gravitic cannon contained inside, fingers vanishing, exhaust ports appearing in her forearm, firing apertures opening where her palm used to be...

Viridian has posed:
Viridian turns slightly, looking around for the person being indicated over the comm. She glances at the little orb she is holding in her hand and takes it in a throwing stance, waiting for something to appear. The girl certainly doesn't look like she is properly armed for this profession. The exoskeleton is too sparse to even count as simple cover. She doesn't seem to be afraid, however. At least, she's not yet. "Well, when I drop this it'll drop a scatter screen. A bit of smoke. Um, should let us run through weapons fire for a little bit. Really, we just make a dash for the ship, I guess..." She shrugs slightly, glancing at Indigo. "I don't think they have reinforcements coming in. Just... Keep safe. Kay?" She worries her bottom lip, blue eyes wide. Viri doesn't express a lot in her gaze but she does stare at Indigo a moment. Then the girl nods at Ryand'r and indicates the alley beside her. "Let's try not to need the smoke bomb. I'm going to pull local street layouts and floor plans. Come on!" Time to dash. Ryand'r is presumed to follow for now.

Ryand'r (223) has posed:
Who could have sent them? Whatever remained of his family was scattered to the stars, who could have known where he was going? That's a mystery that must remained unresolved, for now. Ryand'r fashes after Viridian, keeping his blaster ready.

"I have enough for a few minutes of sustained flight left in me to carry both of us," he informs Viridian. "Consider any vertical routes for shortcuts if we are interceted." He hadn't been exposed to ultra-violet radiation in weeks, and his reserves were low. Flying right now would be foolish- they would be obvious targets, flying above the obstacles and crowds that impeded line of sight for their assailants. It was only to be used as a last resort, like his ability to turn his hands into white-got destruction.

StarDrake has posed:
Peck, alas, tries to emerge from the crowd next to Indigo, attempting to cut her off by reaching for Ryand'r, his facemask-mounted electrical stunner ready to take down the errant Tamaranean. (Mikh would prefer it if we could avoid killing anyone, but Mikh's currently engaged in what looks like a flying kung-fu battle with Overwitch. Hans has cut himself free, and is moving to help Grett.

Meanwhile O'Death is sending messages to the backup. No, not these five; they've clearly failed, but the berth registered to the Milano has been cut off, lined with assassins. They don't shoot at Quill; they seem to know not to do that. But they'll definitely kill anyone trying to bring Purple Ryan through.

A sudden network of nanobots announces itself to Viridian, giving her a detailed map of the area -- apparently someone released a highly illegal cloud of nanomachines over the area. The bot-net is using Drakos' transponder signature.

Indigo has posed:
    Indigo diverts most of her thought functions to underground algorhythmic pathways as not to give Viridian too much to sift through as she thinks: <<Avoid the Milano, dear. Assassins await.>> That message sent (or at least she hopes Viri is currently keeping tabs on her mind), she restructures her mind again, pulling up her tactical subroutines: targeting scanners, data analysis processing, the works. She and Drakos are on the same page as far as killing goes, though. Her right hand, the one that is actually still a hand, seizes Peck's wrist with hydraulic strength and twists, pointing his elbow up toward the sky and pinning his hand between his shoulder blades before she falls forward to one knee, slamming him hard into the ground. It shouldn't hurt him too badly, or probably even knock him out, but he'll have to waste valuable seconds getting back up with one arm gone numb from what she just made his shoulder do. Maybe it will help him to reconsider his life choices.

Viridian has posed:
"I think we're okay for now but I'll keep the flight thing in mind," Viri promises, nodding once to Ryand'r as she leads the way. Thankfully the exoskeleton that works in place of her apparently useless legs does not make much noise despite being a rather awkward thing in motion. Upgrades, perhaps. They aren't announcing to everyone anyone they are there as they run. Not immediately.

"Yes, love. I'll find somewhere else to hole up," Viri promises, answering Indigo immediately without slowing. In some ways their minds are difficult to separate from one another at times. She easily picks her way through the roads, following the detailed street plans she suddenly has access to. The streets are treated like a maze and she weaves a difficult to follow path.

To Ryand'r the young woman with the now Indigo colored hair announces, "Our ship is being blocked in by people who are after you .I could possibly get us on board anyway but it's pretty risky. Trying to find a good place for us to hide out now," she notes quietly. "For now... We can focus on losing them so we can think."

Ryand'r (223) has posed:
"X'hal!" Ryand'r hisses and shakes his head. "Why send out the capture team if they were going to ambush you anyways?" Someone really wanted to make sure they didn't get away. "I do not know this place, I will rely on your guidance."

With a gesture, he throws aside his cloak, which is obstructing his movements. There is no need to remain hidden, for what little good that did. It also allows him full access to his sword and his energy staff, if he finds himself in the need to use them.

StarDrake has posed:
Poor Peck. He's the least enhanced member of his team. For that reason, Indigo's attack not only removes his gun from his hand, but dislocates his shoulder and breaks two ribs. He tries to trigger a pain-block but his comm says, "For fuck sake, just get back here!" and he can tell (between moments of blurring pain) that The Boss Ain't Happy.

For a moment, hanging in the air in combat, Drakos appears to be moving almost mechanically, with uncanny precision and intensity but without actual foresight as he and OverWitch exchange attack/block/counter/attacks. He extends a hand backwards for a moment, and a pair of spheroids shoot at slightly subsonic speeds to where Hans is about to free Grett, having flipped the Eel over and gotten it moving. The spheroids explode into a cloud of tendrils as they get closer wrapping Hans and Grett again, and this time, fouling the vibro-knives. As a result of this action, OverWitch manages to shoot Drakos in the chest with some sort of weapon that probably isn't safe or legal in any space-station. It slowly forces a hole to appear in his armor then spins through.

Overwitch is disappointed though. Blood does NOT spatter out. Nor does oil, nor superheated nuclear fuel. Rather, the energy bolt fizzes out as it reaches a good foot into the body of the armored man... and then the armor shudders, dropping two meters, and a larger spheroid shoots out from Drakos' left hand to explode into tendrils around OverWitch, and she abruptly plummets from the sky as she's mummy-wrapped.

The nano-botnet lights up a pathway for Viridian. It's towards a transport node, an elevator that leads to the far side of the station.

Drakos drops to the ground near Indigo, his armor fizzing as it repairs itself.

At this point, screaming and yelling has begun among the shoppers. Station Security will doubtless be here soon, as it's not yet happy hour.

Indigo has posed:
    Indigo doesn't speak; no need. She steps in front of Drakos, her admittedly much smaller but for the moment much more functional body working as a shield while he conducts his repairs...albeit a small one, because she looks down at poor Peck and can't help pitying him. She takes a knee beside him and advises, "Please hold still." Whether he can understand her language is another thing entirely, but either way, she slides her good arm over his bad shoulder, palm bracing itself against his good one as she helps him sit up, at least. She smiles quickly at Peck as she stands up, and she soothes him, "You should be able to retreat now. I'm sorry I injured you. Please take good care of yourself."
    Oh lord. She's one of those. But if Peck does rise, and if he doesn't try anything, Indigo will absolutely give him no trouble in his retreat.

StarDrake has posed:
Peck rises and slumps away from the scary woman and the battle-armored man who seems to be repairing what should be a fatal cratering. Meanwhile, Drakos hasn't spoken on the comms, but the nanobot cloud (at least in the places where it isn't watching Viridian and Ryand'r) is migrating back toward him, rolling itself up into small drones and skittering, flowing and flying in to melt into the damaged places.

"Thanks for the assist," Mikh's voice says out of the armor.

There is a similar maintenance port closer to where Indigo and Drakos are fleeing. The nanobots near Viridan have rolled up into something about the size and general configuration of a hamster if hamsters were made of liquid metal, and it scurries along, following them into the elevator. It will open its mouth once they get under-way and will play "Boy From Ipanema" at slightly loud volume during their ten minute trip. The extended version of course.

Mikk isn't nearly so cruel to Indigo. He plays a selection of P.D.Q.Bach's "Iphigenia In The Bronx" instead. By the time they get there, he'll be completely repaired.

Meanwhile, as Peter Quill made his way to the Milano, nothing happened! Nobody molested him, jumped out to shoot at him or anything. It's like they weren't even there... even though every instinct said they were.

At the other side of the elevators, the other-side space-dock, a ship with the name Star*Drake on the prow in English is waiting.