8082/War of Light: Holding Actions

War of Light: Holding Actions
Date of Scene:	27 June 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Just another day in the Takron situation.
Cast of Characters:	Star-Lord, 7665, Tyran'tar
Tinyplot:	War of Light

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Star-Lord has posed:
The rioting on the surface of Takron has been flaring up and down for weeks, now. It's a planet filled to the brim with the galaxies worst, so it's hardly a surprise that they took so long to deal with... especially when the prison suffered such a massive hit to it's infrastructure at the beginning. It was a perfect recipe for it to snowball way out of the minor leagues, and necessitate hiring the mercenaries of the galaxy to bring back order.

The Guardians of the Galaxy have been a fixture in orbit and on the landing pads for weeks, now, with their number spread out or concentrated as the situation requires. With some new hotspots popping up on the other side of the planet, Star-Lord has been doing a holding action with Gamora and Drax at a chokepoint into one of the massive prison wings near the equator. Using his element guns to ice up the entry between each breakout, the trio have been given ample warning of incoming attacks each time...

"Star-Lord, we have a new situation just north of your position, and are requesting backup." Comes over the commlink from the prison to the regional forces. Star-Lord, for his part, groans, "Buddy, we're barely containing our chokepoint. I can send Gamora and Drax, but I have no Guardians in range for replacement." The prison replies, "We'll see what we can do, but we need Drax at minimum, these are sturdy prisoners." There's a pause, "Fine, but I'm going to need support soon. I have maybe five minutes before they try again."

Peter looks to Drax and Gamora, and nods to them. "We will be back as soon as we can." Gamora resolves, grimly, before the two take off at full sprint towards the shuttle.

Peter was alone now, against the horde, his shoulder mounted blaster cannon aimed directly at the ice wall keeping the prisoners in.

Blackjack O'hare (7665) has posed:
    It's a veritable cornicopia of contract work, and the pay was nuts. Of course the Black Bunny Brigade signed on, but for obvious reasons they've been held in reserve. The Brigade has a reputation you see, one which doesn't include taking prisoners. Not that the Bunnies have been complaining, they've been getting paid to sit around and sleep.

    Until today that is, when they were finally cut loose. Since then they've been, well all over the god damned place. Fighting a seemingly endless succession of small, violent clashes before melting away so as to deny the prisoners an opportunity to get something cohesive together. Now though, well the coms suggest a defensive action is called for.

    Back behind the checkpoint a bunny sprints across the way, dashing in and out of cover. Then comes another, and another, until theres a proper trickle of bunnies showing up. A trio shows up to hit the floor with some sort of expanding foam, before another team fills in behind to quickly set up a machinegun of some sort. Mutely, and swiftly they're constructing a firebreak directly behind Quill's position.

    Calmly Blackjack steps from the bunnies flooding into the area, cigar smoldering in the corner of his lips. That trademark PRDO battle carbine tucked casually under arm, as he makes a B-lines towards Quill. "Lovely day for a riot, isn't it?"And out of his coat, comes a horseshoe looking sort've rubber thing which he offers over. "Around your neck, it'll plug you into the network at least partially."And a glance casually over his shoulder as defenses are prepared. "Then why not take a breather, have a cup of tea and let somone else handle this? Can't have Rocket's best underling getting snapped out here by the common filth, now can we?"

Star-Lord has posed:
It doesn't take a genius to realize what was going on, and his helmet mask cycles through the electromagnetic spectrum to take a look at the gear the Brigade was bringing to the skirmish. "Rocket already has a big enough head, don't need to be adding more to it." Peter takes the device, inspecting it briefly... before he places it around his neck. It /almost/ touches the helmet on his face, but not quite. The Guardians channel is muted as he switches to the Bunny channel. "Man, it's been a while since I've seen a firebreak. You got blaster autocannons around too?" Peter asks as he turns his head just slightly, covering the group as he keeps the cannon hefted.

One thing is for sure, with the weight of that thing, there's no way Peter is a normal Terran. The weight would have crushed or tired him out by now if he was.

"I'll be fine until you get that thing setup." Peter informs Blackjack, "The ice wall is a good early alarm system."

Blackjack O'hare (7665) has posed:
    The rabbit network is, perhaps a tad jarring. Neat laser like beams shooting fourth from every rabbit's arms, making it perfectly clear where everyone was aiming. Each bunny overlayed with a name,rank, position. On the ground there are brush strokes making the firing lanes clear and crisp, kill zones spelled out as clear as day. Bunnies still in the process of carting in crew served weapons have their positions clearly spelled out, whilst others spray neat foam defensive structures flashing hard the moment they finish. Five hundred rabbits moving as a single cohesive entity under the direction of their beloved field commander, it's a beautiful thing isn't it?

    "We'll reduce the population here, and then strap it shut from both sides once we've secured a foothold on the opposite side."Theres a pause there as Blackjack half turns to accept a neat stainless steel teacup and saucer, offering a polite salute before returning his attention towards the ice. "Rocket may share a homeland with us, but we were grown to fight as a team. As jailers originally, amusingly enough."Pausing to flick that cigar away, and sip after his tea. "Hmm, anyway please retreat to the position highlighted and rest? We've got a long fight ahead of ourselves, take your rest when you can."

    And so a neat pale green line rises from the deck, leading back behind where rabbits were setting up...mortars? The wireless is full of prattle, every single rabbit talking seemingly all at once without uttering a single word outloud. Order in chaos indeed, which is apparently where the bunnies want to be. Theres plenty of jokes and laughter, filthy soldier's humor but nobody seems to be terribly concerned about whats to come.

Star-Lord has posed:
It /is/ a tad jarring... but Star-Lord is used to having hud like elements over his vision from the helmet... and he mentally structures it so the helmet and the bunny comm device aren't overlapping, but rather complimenting one another. It's a fairly easy task, and once Star-Lord is sure they're ready to take over, he actually move behind the emplacement, and the cannon is dropped with a 'thunk' next to it. "Nice setup."

He looks to the entry, "These aren't anything to be a serious concern, but you look like you're going all in with lethals. Am I getting that right?" Peter asks as he sits down.

Tyran'tar has posed:
    The Green Lantern corps requested aid and after dropping a 'criminal' from his homeworld away from his tyrannical queen, Tyran'tar makes his way to the prison world. Floating in, swapping his military uniform for the green lantern uniform he looks to the ice wall. He lands by Quill and Blackjack. "Glad to see groot's friends once more." He says as he makes a construct plasma rifle and raises it aimed at the wall. "Name's Tyran'tar, friend." He says to the war rabbit. "Heard you lot were having fun."

Blackjack O'hare (7665) has posed:
    "Contract stipulates, any and all means necessary to secure the facility are on the table."Blackjack turns, trading tea for a neat little walkie talking looking thing his aide produces. Theres a moment to clear his throat, before he keys the thing up. Hey a voice-caster, like a spacey megaphone. Anywho pauses a moment <<Good afternoon, I'm Field Commander O'hare of the Black Bunny Brigade. Our services have been retained by the prison management to secure this facility. In accordance with my client's wishes, I am obliged to inform you that the use of lethal force has been authorized. No prisoners, no quarter, no mercy. Your call, disperse or die.>>And click, the caster is handed back before Blackjack all but strolls back behind the firing line.

    "Oh most certainly, lethal only. We're small and cute, can't afford to try and take prisoners. So we'll give them fair warning, and then kill every one of them."Theres a small smirk there as he flashes the signal for safeties off, bringing that carbine to shoulder. "Fun no. Just earning our combat bonuses the old fashioned way."

    The mortar crews kick open their ammo boxes and take their positions, turning to look back towards Blackjack. Ready to kick off indeed.

Star-Lord has posed:
"Star-Lord, you have a Lantern incoming." Comes the text only over the Guardian comm network from the Milano out in space, monitoring the situation. Without speaking over the comm networks for either group, Peter grumbles to himself.

Peter has never liked any of the Lantern Corps, especially the Green ones. His near confrontation with Hal on Knowhere would be well known by this point, and when Tyran'tar heads this way, Star-Lord is back on his feet again, tense.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out Tyran is the cause, either.

"I like your style." Peter informs Blackjack, before he looks to the ice wall. "I don't think they heard you though. That's a pretty thick wall."

Indeed, a few seconds after that call, the ice wall is visibly starting to crack.

"Nope, I don't think they heard you at all." Star-Lord muses.

Tyran'tar has posed:
    Tyran'tar looks to Star-lord and on his own display appears a clip between a lantern and Star-lord. He looks to the rabbit and he watches as the being readies the big guns. "Reminds me of the war we had against the citadel." He says as he forms green barricades between the three of them, out of the way of the guns. He then moves behind it and readies his gun, waiting for the wall to burst.

Blackjack O'hare (7665) has posed:
    One mortar rings out, sending a round high up above. There it discards it's casings, pivoting in mid air to orient a camera along the far side of the wall. Then comes the other mortars, skipping just over the mass of ice before bursting to shower the crowd with what looks like an oily rain. Then down comes the camera mortar, theres a flash and then the fire. The explosion is enough to shatter the ice, and well that fuel-air explosion is hardly friendly to anyone on the other side of the choke point. Mortars adjust, before the trio of them hang another salvo.

    The moment that ice shatters and the choke point opens, the gunfire begins. Heavy repeating laser cannon and smaller squad automatics where necessary to lay down a thick interlacing field of fire on either side of the choke point. Engineers take off in a sprint to stack up on one side of the choke point, as shield carrying heavily armored rabbits stack up on the opposite wall. Other specialized units prep in their holding positions, preparing to move the line onto the far side of the choke point.

    Those mortar rounds slam into the deck before bursting and spewing more of that ballistic foam in a coarse semicircle on the far side of the chokepoint. Then comes another salvo, and another to build up the makeshift fortifications.

    Blackjack steps away to get a better look at how things are developing, those brilliant red occulars flaring to life as he scans the battlefield. <<Halt advance, give us two more salvos of the foam. I think we've got a marksman on the other side of the wall.>>Theres a glance towards the Lantern and Quill, his backpack thrusters popping out and warming up visibly. "Looks like tea will have to wait, to your boots ladies it's time to get our hands dirty."And well Blackjack takes a leap, and erupts upwards as that backpack thruster lights. Soaring upwards in a lazy corkscrew, hands dirty indeed.

Star-Lord has posed:
Star-Lord watches it with a sort of morbid fasination.

Sure, he's the leader of the Guardians, and he's worked with military forces before for sure. If he was pressed, he could probably handle leading large military units himself, even, like Blackjack. But he'd be the first to admit he feels more comfortable with a close knight elite group like this.

"Very nice setup." Star-Lord continues, his eyes watching it all. Most of the mortars hit the complex roof, but they certainly do break through the upper floors, creating chaos inside the complex.

As the ice wall starts to break for the prisoners to escape /from/ the bombardment, the laser cannon opens fire into a group of prisoners with shields of their own, deflecting the fire for a moment as more melee oriented prisoners come charging out behind them, to the sides. Those bunnies to the sides start to get attacked by prisoners equipped with stolen riot gear.

It looks very much like two armies clashing.

"That looks fun." Star-Lord pokes fun at Blackjack as he takes his shoulder mounted blaster cannon back up, and he starts to fire into the mass of melee going for the engineers... shots which are being soaked by the shield carrying prisoners... but he's definitely forcing them back with the sheer kinetic force.

Tyran'tar has posed:
    Tyran'tar fires at the prisoners and he makes the construct gun vanishing before trying to capture the prisoners directly with his ring and he smirks as he forces the prisoners into stasis fields. "How do you want to do this, Star-lord?" He asks as he focuses on encasing people in fields.

Blackjack O'hare (7665) has posed:
    Blackjack's pretty quick when he's on the burner, unleashing a spray of laser fire as he lands and gets right into it. Engineers fall back, clearing the potential crossfire as the shield bunnies form up and start their press foreward. Pushing their attackers foreward and back into the killbox. The heavy repeater fire picks up in intensity, as regular infantry starts in on the fire. Pouring on the photons in a sustained bombardment hard enough to turn the floors a brilliant cherry red alone. Raw force of arms being used like a sledge hammer to force the gap clear. Then the shields swing into action, pouring foreward as grenadiers and assaulters follow in close behind. Others take to the air, spreading the base of fire out but keeping up the volume.

    Bunnies fall, only to be quickly spirited away for aid. Others rush in to take their place without hesitation, locking down a perimeter on the opposite side of the wall, Extending outward to allow for the heavy repeaters to be rushed into the breach, and a new skirmish line forms on the opposite side. It's enough to construct an energy lattice, before the whole front collapses and the grid comes online. Pushing the front foreward to the far side of that chokepoint, This isn't a complete solution of course but it does make it more defendable.

    Blackjack soars back, hitting the deck in a slide that ends with him being handed more tea. Transports slide to a halt, and bunnies are already loading the wounded and their heavier weaponry onboard. "Well, a pleasure gentlemen."And a pause to sip, nevermind the smell of ozone and burning flesh. "Oh and Quill keep the thoughtcasting rig, a present. Range is mighty short, but if you see another Bunny I've flagged you as an officer of the client. Call me sometime, we'll do tea alright?"

Star-Lord has posed:
"A pleasure, O'hare." Peter offers over the commlink as he moves his attention elsewhere... stopping that cannon when it becomes clear he'd start doing friendly damage. "If you're looking to keep some of these prisoners alive, I'd go around the back and start scooping them up front the top, since they just opened the roof." Star-Lord points out to the Lantern.

"I'm gonna take a break here. Been holding this point for hours." And so he does actually sit down, and take a rest as the Bunnies do their work.