Log:Moonsault, Part 1

2019/10/26 Thunder Rangel Paragon Porter Allison Breach Ninth Old Man Griffin Tak 1

Thunder, having heard the rumors and all call, had arrived to help out. Instead of asking to go on any of the missions or the like, the younger teen had instead started by helping to move supplies around. The larger ones that normally required machinery and he was easily lifting, moving, and loading as best as he could.

Paragon is standing near some of the shuttles being prepared for the assault, taking some moments to do an internal systems check to make sure she is operating at peak efficiency for the battle to come. This makes her appear as still as a statue as she does this.

Making his way over towards one of the shuttles, Thunder pauses as he sees Paragon. "Paragon? You ok there?" The super strong teen moves to set the heavy load down carefully, looking at the fellow hero type.

Paragon's eyes flicker and dim during the final check, then return to full illumination as her head pans to Thunder. "Yes, I am fine. Thank you for asking," she says in cheerful tones, her voice mechanical and echoing from the hollow spaces within her helm.

Rangel makes her way up to the landing field, playing baton-twirl with her beat-mode bow, whistling. "Oh hey it's uh... that guy!" she declares on seeing Thunder. "No idea what your name is if you told me, don't worry though I don't really do names much. Not at first."

Thunder turns after giving a nod to Paragon, then looks to Rangel. "Oh, cat lady. I do not think I gave my name before. I go by Thunder."

Paragon pans her head around in search of her 'sidekick' to ensure he's not sitting on the launch button or something.

"And if you impress me enough I'll remember without need for reminder," Rangel offers with a grin. "Of course that sounds like it's like I'm better than you, because talking, I'm really bad at but I'm gonna keep trying anyway. If it's memorable enough you can call me Rangel. If not I also am known by that f!@#ing cat."

Porter is helping! Helfully! He's polishing a spot on the tarmac, to ensure it's perfect for launch. The techs declined his help with fueling or charging any of the craft, loading weapons, checking medical supplies, bringing lunch to the others working... but they did find something for him to do. That probably won't inadvertently kill anyone.

Thunder looks to Rangel, then to Paragon. "She's the one that gave me the idea about the dumpster blocking a riot." He thumbs at Rangel, then shakes his head before lifting the piece of equipment/supplies he has and moving it to the shuttle nearby.

Rangel's bow flips into firing state with a flick of the wrist. "I'll be your ranged fire support for this evening. because that, I'm pretty sure I'm good enough at. Did the dumpster idea not go over well or was that actually a complimentary blame?" She glances at Paragon.

Thunder shakes his head, "Ah, not sure I'll be going along. Far as I know, I probably would be in the way as far as space or anything else. Plus, can you imagine if I punched a hole in a shuttle wall or something if we had to deal with that?" The large piece of equipment is lifted and put into place before he moes to carefully strap it down.

Paragon's head pans to Rangel. "I don't quite understand the question. I was not involved in nor gave consultation on said riots," she offers helpfully to clarify. Her head pans back to Porter and the bottom of her perfectly round eye-lights flatten upwards from Paragon's smile. "Sweetie, I don't think you actually have to do that," she says gently.

"Uh. I was told they needed a support group for a gravity-enabled breathable environment," Rangel informs. "So...I mean, why not right? But I think that means you're not gonna have much more trouble with negotiating than I am in the expected combat zone. Wanna show those naysayers what you can really do? Lots of hostiles."

Porter stops his groundskeeping and stands up to wave to Paragon. Then shrugs. "Just wanted to do -something- to help." The amplification from his Paragon-like suit is helpful in this case.

Thunder shakes his head, "Still not me." He says towards Rangel. "Proving myself is one thing. Fate of the planet? That's another thing entirely for me."

Paragon nods twice to Rangel's statement. "Support will be needed." Her head pans to Thunder and stops. "Hull breaches would be a detriment to Earth Forces if made." It's just a common sense statement. Her head turns back to Porter and she smiles behind her faceplate. "You are helping. You're here, for when Commander Perrault and the Director give the order. Polishing tarmac..." she starts, but stops. Does she really want to say they just did it because they thought it'd keep him out of the way? No. But the thought is in her head, which means it's shared with Porter anyway through their connection.

"Yeah, there's probably lots of stuff to do down here with me gone," Rangel agrees. "Looters everywhere. It's like someone rang the greed dinner bell. There's a burglary alarm going off /right now/ about two blocks north. They never stop!" She leaps up to a high point, drawing out a soft-tipped arrow, taking careful aim, and releasing. "Ha! Down for the count!" She hops down again. "I like the tower here. What's polishing the tarmac?"

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << "It's Ok, Sweetie. I knew that. They're not wrong to be worried. This is way bigger than me. Maybe even us." He means it inspirationally, though there's the darker side to that thought, which he doesn't spend any time thinking of. >>

Porter heads towards Paragon and the others, tarmac-polishing stone (brick) still in hand. "Wouldn't want to hit a bump taking off. That's make it a rough ride, maybe even risk a crash," comes his armor-digitized and amiplified voice. A thought strikes him and he looks to Paragon. "Hey, did this thing have a voice modulator thingy? Maybe we could tweak it, and I could at least -sound- all heroic or imposing or something?" Or he might audibly resemble a Pikachu huffing helium. Maybe that would impress someone, too?

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << "And yet you did it anyway?" Para thinks gently, trying not to be offended by their treatment of Porter. "My Hero," she thinks warmly. >>

Paragon's eyes expand in diameter at Rangel's shot. "You...hit him? From here?" she asks, sounding impressed. Even though this is the person that shot Porter unconscious. She looks over to Porter as he comes over. "Hm. It did. What's wrong with your own voice?" she asks as she steps over to him with heavy thuds with each step.

Porter adds a wave to Rangel, adding, "Yeah, she's a good shot." To Paragon, he manages another shrug. They may need to get the suit altered, as it's a bit awkard and not very shrug-friendly. That could be detrimental, since he does it so much. "It's mine? Though... " he stops to think " ...I guess if they recognize it, they might get worried."

"Uh.. yeah," Rangel says with a shrug. "Guy not paying attention while he loots, I can reliably tag those within maybe a kilometer, assuming the wind isn't unfriendly and I can get a stable firing surface." She looks thoughtful. "Though that was before when I was still operating as N-G bag lady. Maybe I can do two now!"

Rangel glances at her bow. "Of course, I'd need something that can reach that far to pull that off. This ain't gonna do it."

Thunder shakes his head, sighing, "A sharpshooter. Go figure." He looks to Paragon and Porter. "Well, at least it's a good use of cat genetics?"

"While one hundred percent of cat archers I know of are very good at it," Rangel suggests, "I don't think the genetics in context are responsible. Lots of training, that works better. Endless hours of practice. Keep shooting. Miss? Get punched. Made missing easier when they did that, but it sure motivated me to not miss."

Paragon nods at Porter's thoughts on the matter. "So you don't want the villains to not fear you? Alright. They may target you to eliminate the risk. I can make those adjustments for you, Sweetie," she offers warmly. Her voice loses that mechanical precision when she speaks directly with Porter. Especially when Sweetie is implemented.

She looks over to Rangel. "Do two what?" she inquires, then glances Thunderwards. "I was unaware cats were known for their shooting ability? I rarely get to see cats up close." She sounds sad about that last sentence, her eyes even dimming at the thought.

Porter blinks behind his helm, then reaches up to tap the neck, causing the helm to retract. "Don't worry, Sweetie." There's a CLUNK CLUNK of metal on metal as he pats her arm. "Pink kittens after?"

Thunder shakes his head, "Basically cats tend to have pretty good eye sight and hearing."

"Oh, yeah, I can definitely say that's accurate. Aiming a weapon though? Still needs a lot of practice to get it right. Adding in the arms makes it a new trick. The senses work pretty well to help me find what needs shooting though! And smelling sweaty guys inside closed suits. Sometimes that's related!"

Rangel informs, then tells Paragon, "Kilometers. With a weapon designed for greater range I can test it out, but without a bow it's gonna be a wash. This thing has a good half kilometer in every shot."

Paragon smiles warmly as Porter retracts his helm, happy to see his face again. "Yes. Pink kittens after," she agrees affectionately. Which must sound strange to those who don't know quite how weird Paragon and Porter's lives can be.

She retracts her helm, but does so with a thought rather than needing to tap anything. It allows Para to smile more directly at Porter. Her chestnut colored hair is tied back in a ponytail. "I know you always disliked it when I was armored up. It's only now that I truly understand what it must have felt like on the other side. I'm so sorry, Sweetie. You were right all along." Finally, a true 'you were right' response! It's only been...five years in the making? Give or take? She steps up to close the gap between him and her, looking down at the high neck guard on his suit and traces a finger along it to access a small panel with ports in it once it's opened.

Over her shoulder, Paragon says, "Oh, that would explain the sight and hearing." Her eyes are still on the suit when she realizes something and actually turns her eyes towards Rangel. "Are you...smelling my fiance?" she asks curiously. More impressed than anything, really. "Oh, I thought you were going to say two arrows at once. That is an impressive distance."

"Am I smelling your what?" Rangel asks. "Uh. Probably? Were you expecting it to not be smelled? Before we go on you should know that I get the idea that your fiancee is a body part you think is hidden enough but covering up a particular scent is harder than it sounds." She flicks her wrist again and collapses the bow, setting it into the quiver. "Two arrows? Sounds wasteful. I can show off just fine with one."

Paragon takes a few moments to stare at Rangel, processing what was said. "No, no, it is not a body part. Porter is my fiance," she explains as she starts to access his suit's modular voice settings.

Porter chuckles and starts to try and offer an explanation, but Para beats him to it. "Yeah, that's me. Though I guess we ARE kind of attached at the hip?" They are a team, afterall.

Thunder smiles at that, then shakes his head as he looks to Rangel. "Seriously, you didn't catch 'fiance'?"

"Oh, she definitely caught my fiance," Paragon notes with a tiny frown that quickly smooths away as she tinkers with Porter's suit. It's supposed to be forgiven, but she has grown quite understandably protective of her family. It's the only one she has!

"Heard the word, subtle bits of it," Rangel replies to Thunder. "Not entirely sure what it means but now I at least know it's this guy. Possibly related to relations? Servant? Trouble magnet? Suit tester? Uh...yeah I got nothing definitive."

Thunder shakes his head again, then gives a laugh. "Can give somewhat good advice on fighting, but hopeless at social situations. It means they're together and going to get married eventually."

"I'm... all of those, I'm pretty sure." Porter explains. "It's a really, really long story. And, yeah, it's turned out to be more eventually than we'd hoped..." He sighs. "Stuff happens. You know?"

Porter rubs the back of his head a little sheepishly. "I think I promised to before the next, like, world-ending threat popped up... and I think that was three or four of those ago..."

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << I'm sorry, Sweetie. I'm a terrible almost-husband. >>

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << You are not in the slightest, Sweetie. You shouldn't be apologizing. I am well and truly a terrible almost-wife. >>

"Oathbreaker, then," Rangel evaluates, taking a casual posture. "I'll interpret that as absurdity making you laugh and not mockery. Not that I'd react with threats or anything, but I'd go mocking in reply and we'd get into this whole mocking thing and you'd end up looking less silly in the end but it'd be a close race."

Porter winces at that, even if it was meant in jest. It's not something he's proud of. "Yeah, I ... wait!" He stops suddenly, looks at the people around, back at the ships, then to Paragon.

Paragon does a validation check on each of Rangel's proposed meanings. "Well. Not servant, certainly," she affirms, but the others are potential matches. Or at least statuses she can't easily refute even if she wants to. "We are engaged to be married. It has been some time. Wedding planning is nigh impossible between death threats, supervillains, world disasters, and raising a daughter." A daughter who looks nothing like either parent.

Finishing a test setting on the voice modulator, Paragon closes the panel lightly for now in case tweaking is needed. "It is a very long story indeed," she agrees with Porter. She looks surprised, shocked even, at Rangel's new title. "Oathbreaker? That does not describe Porter in the slightest," she politely contests. She registers the humor belatedly.

She glances to Porter as he says wait. "Yes, Sweetie?" Paragon asks.

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << Hey, they're not leaving yet, right. And the courts are still running, right? Think we can find a justice in like a couple minutes? >>

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << "What would we need a justice for...? Oh. Oh!" Paragon suddenly understands where he may be going with this. "We don't need to rush, Sweetie." Even though four to five years is hardly rushing it. "You are my love whether recognized by the law or not. Wouldn't my sisters also be angry if we did it without them?" >>

Porter grins up at Paragon. "Maybe they'd be mad, but we can always have a huge party later. Isn't that what everyone comes for, anyhow? Could just make it official, first?" Speaking of official, Porter lowers down to one knee with a CLANK (thank goodness for that suit!) and offers Paragon... er... um... one shiny tarmac-polishing brick!

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << Just in case. We should be a total team Porter, first. Third, love of my life, would you marry me? >>

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << I mean, like. Right now? >>

Paragon is standing on the tarmac with her helm down and her hair tied back, speaking with Rangel, Thunder, and a helmless Porter suited up in something that looks similar in color and styling to Paragon's armor. As he drops to one knee and offers up a brick, Paragon looks puzzled for a moment. And then after a message over their shared network, her jaw just....drops. And she freezes for a moment. Did she just crash?

Thunder hums, then fishes around in a pants pocket before pulling out a PDA. And he points the recorder at Porter and Paragon. Yep. Time to watch this one, and share the video with the two afterwards. He looks to Rangel. "Special moment for these two. Just stay quiet and watch?"

"Please forgive the overly dramatic landing." comes Julius's voice from one of Starguard's intercoms just before his holographic head appears in the air... and then an armored Allison comes out of the sky... a classic superhero landing as described in the Deadpool movie. But she stands up straight, the apparent armor retracting into her skin even as the grav-pod-nodules retract into her body as well. "Hey sis." she says towards Paragon. But then seeing Paragon's expression she just asks almost as if bored, "What did Porter.. Porter up now?"

Porter holds his position, his smile, and the Brick of Polishing and/or Proposing (they may need to frame that thing), looking up to Paragon. Though, after a moment, his brow starts to sweat, and not just because the brick is heavy. More sweat for the sweaty guy in suit scenting.

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << There may very well be a crash. Or just momentary lag. "Yes, Sweetie," she finally answers warmly, sharing all the happy sensations and thoughts associated with it. >>

Rangel waves to the landing person. "Sentimental moment. I'm supposed to not make weird comments." Stage-whispered. PDA might not pick it up. But it does. Because Rangel.

Paragon accepts the brick of polishing from Porter as she picks up her jaw and smiles warmly at him. A big, irrepressible smile. At a time like this?? She looks over to Allison. "Nothing. And...everything?"

Thunder one handed face palms. Then he comments to Paragon, "I think he just proposed to marry him to you, Paragon. You going to tell him yes or something?"

"Of course she is. Look at that smile." remarks Allison as she goes from worried, to happy as can be. "Finally, I get to be maid of honor I hope. Or at least -a- bridesmaid." She shrugs, "Though the concept of marriage is really an outdated idea."

Porter beams as he stands up, now unburdened by ...alot. "She did," he answers Thunder. It's then that he notices Allison and waves. "Hey! Thanks for the knee padding, Ally! Does JULIUS have any judge-justice type people on speed-dial?"

"Oh. Of course. I did. I just realized you couldn't hear," Paragon's thoughts are a little disorganized. She looks back to Porter, still smiling. She's not sure what the brick has to do with it, as she already has an engagement ring, but she holds the brick reverently anyway.

"I think they got a brain link," Rangel stage-whispers to Thunder. PDA definitely got that.

Porter isn't an expert on ceremony, and technically he did already propose, or they wouldn't be engaged. Still, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Which he tends to be occassionally actually right about.

"Err... Captain of a Ship has that right too. Yeah?" asks Allison with a shrug, "I mean I suppose I could fly you guys to Vegas or something." she adds with a smirk.

"Whoh you mean anyone with captain rank on a ship can just make two people married? Do they ever use that power for awesome?" Rangel asks.

Thunder seems to think, then shrugs before he looks to Rangel. "It worked in Pirates of the Caribbean."

Porter blinks at Allison. "Really?! I didn't know that. Hold on!" He turns, stops, adds to Para, "One sec!" CLINKCLINKCLINK He's off running for the nearest shuttle, where the pilot(s) are running preflights. He only needs one!

Paragon listens to all the chatter and looks around, confused a bit by the Pirates of the Caribbean mention. She answers to Rangel, "Yes, we are networked. Or brain linked, as you say." That stage whisper was loud enough for anyone to notice. She blinks and turns her head as Porter runs off to find someone.

"I...was not expecting this," Paragon chuckles, then looks to the others, and then finally Allison. "He was feeling guilty that we have yet to marry after all this time, and thought we might be able to find a Judge to make it official. Actually ceremony pending for family."

Thunder hums, then looks to Allison, "This is kinda odd."

Shaking her head, Allison asks, "Why? You know he loves you. He knows you love him. I think the whole.... need for a ceremony isn't for the couple, but for the couple's family and all that." she adds as she strides over and leans to wrap an arm about Paragon. "Either way, congrats sis."

"It is. I thought you and Chen would be upset if we were married without your attendance," Paragon explains. "It's also why we weren't in a rush to wed. It doesn't change how we feel about each other." She gives Allison a hug and smiles. "Porter is just feeling guilty about it, I think, because he was reminded of how long it's been. Also, Rangel called him an oathbreaker for it and made him feel bad. So..." she lets go of Allison and shrugs, grinning. "You know how he likes to fix things."

"Yeah. And that usually makes'em more broken." replies Allison with a roll of her eyes. Amazing how all of that synthetic junk behaves as if it -was- organic. Only in a synthetically converted cyberpath I guess.

But she glances about and asks, "You guys planning to use these rickety low tech shuttles?" she asks, pointing at the best that Starguard has to offer.

"I'd like to point out that he spoke words that described him breaking oaths which is what caused that comment," Rangel informs. "He spoke those words seconds before said comment. You heard them."

CLINKCLINKTHUDOW. Makes it up all four steps up the ramp. Two with feet, one with knee when he trips, one with face.... but he makes it inside!

A couple moments pass, and it's possible he's actually had some success! The engines on the shuttle pitch up and it moves towards the gathered (dearly beloved?) before stopping in front of them on the (recently polished!) spot of tarmac. Porter appears at the ramp and waves at everyone. He looks to be yelling, but before the engines die down, so he's completely drowned out. He vanishes.

The engines slow and then Porter reappears.

"Sorry! The captain said he can't do that! He's only a lieutenant!" He's still yelling, though it isn't entirely necessary. "He also said they're getting ready to take off, so I'm supposed to get everyone on board who's going right now!"

Thunder sighs, then looks pointedly at Rangel. "There is more to saying he broke promises than to call them 'oaths' as a note."

Thunder looks thoughtful, then shrugs, "I don't know if a ghost can marry someone technically, but I think one of my ancestors was a captain or priest or something? I'd have to figure out which one, though..."

Snorting, Allison shakes her head, "I can get there faster without the Ford Pinto of shuttlecraft." she mutters as she extrudes her small silvery spherical pods from shoulders, hips, knees, elbows... feet, and lifts off of the ground in a shimmer of distortion around those pods.

Paragon doesn't look like she can deny Rangel's claim due to technicalities that they are accurate. She looks towards the running Porter, smiling at his eagerness. But then her smile drops into a more serious mode as it's time to depart. "I suppose the brief ceremony must be postponed. It's time to go," she says, her helm assembling back into place to encase her head. "Your ancestor married a ghost?" she asks with interest and curiosity. "The laws for the living impaired are rather...insensitive."

Thunder facepalms. "No. My ancestor IS a ghost and I think one WAS a captain."

Paragon is slow on the uptake sometimes. Most times. "Oh, that sounds like a legal obstacle. I don't think the courts would recognize that. Anyway, it is time to depart." She lightly leaps, but that simple effort carries her all the way to Porter and the ship, where she lands heavily. She holds her arms out to offer a hug. "Ready to go, Partner?" her metallic voice inquires fondly.

Porter gives Paragon a hug and nods. "Ready as I'll never be!" He taps the neckband twice and the helm reforms over his head. There. Now he's ready ready for sure.

"I'll trust your expertise on synonyms much better than mine," Rangel shrugs. "Uh. We're going now? Or you're going now and coming back? I lost the plan somewhere. Good thing I can find it again."

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << He mentally sighs. "Probably. Maybe. Maybe there's someone on board? Could take a few to get there..." >>

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << "Don't feel bad, Sweetie. If we can't, then how about we have our wedding after the earth is safe?" There's a pause, as that's probably been said before. "For certain, this time." She pictures Porter in a tuxedo and smiles secretly behind her faceplate. It certainly takes her mind off the battle ahead. >>

With all aboard that are coming aboard, the ramp is closed, everything sealed, and the shuttle launches. Breaking atmosphere is the shortest part, though the acceleration might uncomfortable for those not used to it, or more compressible by it, or both. After that comes the longer, slightly less uncomfortable, but longer trip.

Porter, being both not spaceworthy and squishy, seems to manage reasonably well. The suit hides white knuckles from gripping his harness, and there's no screams or squeaks. Stoic quiet. Or a shorted out mic.

Paragon is accustomed to trips in space from her volunteer efforts with Starguard. She's strapped in next to Porter, calm and patient as can be. Her head pans to Porter, and after a moment, she places a hand on his armored knee.

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << Are you okay, Sweetie? >>

Rangel takes seat, adjusting for her tail, eyes closing as the transport process begins. Even though Porter is aboard, she's less than worried. Then again she really doesn't know the extent of what tends to happen when Porter is around. She's drifting off to nap before long once the shuttle stops shaking so much.

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << I thinks so. Or I will be. Once my spleen settles back where its supposed to be. At least, I think it's my spleen. Humans have spleens, right? >>

Shaking her head, Allison starts heading skyward. Over her psi-comms she contacts the shuttle. "If you would help me plot the course, since my plan involves me not being able to see where I'm going.. I'll hyper-accelerate the shuttle. Have everyone strap in securely." she suggests to the shuttle crew as she moves behind it and positions herself -between- the engine exhaust ports.. then her body seems to bulk up as muscle just.. grows at need. And she grips the hull at a reinforced point before pushing. Once out of the atmosphere, her grav-drives go into overdrive and everyone inside might feel like they are in the old Battlestar Galactica launch tube... pressed back against their seats.

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << Yes, they do. I didn't know they could cause discomfort, though. >>

Just as everyone gets settled in for the long haul, the pilots warn everyone to stay strapped in and hang on. There may even be a yelp of surprised from one of them as the shuttle accelerates steadily, rapidly (thought not TOO rapidly) before doing the same, just applied in the other direction.

Ahead of them... Ok, it was before, too, but now much, much larger and closer, is the moon.

Bang! Zoom! The the moon, Allison!

Paragon wasn't expecting the ship to accelerate quite so fast. "They really did supercharge this vessel," she notes naively.

After a few minutes, Allison does indeed start deceleration. But that's done by moving around in front of the shuttle and pushing the other way. Space is fun like that. But when she gets the ship down to a speed that it can manage on its own, she moves into view through the viewscreen and waves. Over radio signals she tells the crew (and Paragon), "Okay. I gotcha all here quick. So, what are we looking for?"

Porter is pressed into the adjacent Paragon, which isn't terrible at all. Though this time he does squeak, even with the warning. Then he flops back the other way as they slow down. Another squeak, and less comfortable.

Paragon tries to wrap an arm around Porter to help secure him along with the harness, but the harnesses are making that difficult. "Are you going to be okay, Sweetie?" she asks with concern. She radios back to Allison, "Thank you for the boost."

"Tranquility Base; primary or secondary docking ports," the co-pilot answers on the radio (and audible to those in the cabin). The base is still dark on comms..." after a few moments, she continues, " both platforms appear operational, and we can cycle the locks from our end. Heading to primary. Be ready to touch and go, back there. We'll be RTB for the next group. Not enough craft for a one way and loiter."

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << I'm Ok. I think my spleen settled back in, now. At least one of them. >>

Paragon radios up front, "Is it safe for us to unbuckle for the drop?"

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << That's great news! Since humans have only one spleen. >>

"Affirmative. Clear to unsecure and prepare for dock and exit," the co-pilot announces as the pilot brings the shuttle in. Those looking out the front through the cockpit can see lots of black has changed to lots of gray. There is movement, but its intentionally slow and controlled, so there's little issue moving about the cabin.

Following down, Allison is using her more controlled drives at this point. She enjoys flying about in space though, and is kind of mother-henning things. Making sure everyone is okay and such.

Porter unbuckles himself, tries not to float too much, and gets himself and his spleens shuffle/hop/floated towards the hatch, grabbing onto a bulkhead to try and stay mostly put.

Paragon unfastens her harness and floats out of her seat. She braces a hand against the ceiling and tries to stand. She drifts towards the hatch to prepare to disembark.

There is a thunk as the shuttle mates, then seals. The hatch light turns green and opens. "We're locked and sealed! Time to go!" The co-pilot cues everyone. "Be advised, latest intel had prisoners loose, rioting in progress. SG command also reported excessive EM, jamming. If you can shut that down, we might be able to re-establish comms with Tranquility. Good luck!"

Paragon's eyes flick to a cyan blue as she tries to look through the hull to see what they're getting into, scanning for heat signatures within. "Perhaps let me go first, Sweetie," she suggests, since she is technically more armored than he is.

"Huh." says Allison but she says over radio to the pilots, "They're not dark. They're covered with hundreds of signals that are flooding the airwaves. But.. in the short version, they're being jammed. I was planning on trying to work my way through said jamming. I have a way with electronics and all." she says as she moves towards the airlock and interfaces with it to start it cycling.

Rangel wakes as contact is made, unstrapping herself and being ready to move without so much as a 'where are we?', laser-focused, she propels herself, getting crash-course accustomed to the gravity of the situation, listening to the comms for whatever subtle differences might come of it all. Taking her usual role in situations like this, she quickly discerns whether she will be forward scout or purely support from behind.

"Airlock and terminal clear," Paragon lets the others know. She moves with the group to step out of the open hatch.

Paragon radios to Allison, "Are you able to stop the jamming from where you are? Or do you need to locate the source?" she asks as she carefully moon-leaps to the terminal.

Porter trips on his way out of the ship and lightly bounces on the ground of the airlock before ending up on his feet again. More hopping gets him to the terminal behind Paragon. "Sorry. Suit again," his amplified voice apologizes.

Airlocks are cycled. Lights change colors. Everyone winds up in a large semicircular terminal, bearing three docking ports. Two of which were just used. Also, gravity here is Earth-normal.

There is very little here aside from suit lockers, some of which are open and vacant of pressure suits. There is a single open hatch to a corridor.

Rangel performs quick suiting up for the short trip, adapting to the weird gravity before long, keeping an eye out for oncoming unexpecteds.

Paragon scans the next corridor as her boots finally make purchase on the ground proper. The chances of Paragon being stealthy seem unlikely.

"I had planned to work on the jamming." mutters Allison into her own comms, wondering if they are getting jammed once she's inside. "Julius. Help me out here." she remarks as she searches for a console or terminal somewhere inside.

"Looks like you want this covert," Rangel comments. "That's my department for scouting. Let me know." She extracts herself from the suit, ensures her gear is in place, bow moved to ready position with nary a sound to betray what it has done.

Rangel's usual snark, overly cheerful manufactured demeanor, gone.

"They may already suspect us of coming," Paragon says as her heavy metal boots clunk on the ground, before she draws to a halt. "Perhaps you should scout? Although I see a barricade up ahead and no one occupying the corridor." She looks back to Rangel and taps her temple. "X-ray Vision," she explains.

Once she discerns no objections are raised to her taking scouting role, Rangel moves, taking advantage of her radar-like suite of expanded awareness, ensuring everything is clear before she proceeds. She also takes advantage of the fact that the ceiling is an option for her rather than the floor.

Paragon waits for the scout, staying as still as possible.

Porter waits behind Paragon, trying to do the same. While not touching anything if possible.

"Radio check," Rangel utters in a nearly silent vocal level, listening for both a response requesting silence from her allies or the sound of her signal being picked up from where her allies are not.

Paragon radios back quietly, "Received."

"What?" Porter asks in a whisper on the radio, since he didn't really hear it. Quickly followed by a whispered, "Nevermind. Sorry."

Glancing over towards the party through a viewport, Allison establishes a mindlink with Paragon also. Boy her brain is crowded these days. She can maintain 2 minds. Para and Jules. "Investigating the source of the jamming. I think it is in the direction of the base antennae. I can't say for sure if they are -using- said antennae.. but.. Julius has a map of the base. Sending it to you now." she says over the link as the map is indeed sent.

"No hostiles in range. Generators up and running. Damaged." Rangel pushes ahead, checking corners, scenting out oddities. "Approximately thirty yards from your position now."

"Barrier bypassed. Probably noisy to remove," Rangel reports.

"Noisy. But simple," Paragon responds. "Is it clear enough for me to remove the obstacle? Or a way through without tearing it down?"

"I squeezed past," Rangel informs. "Not easy."

Paragon picks up on Allison's network connection. Now she has Porter and Allison in her head. "Receiving map. Is it safe for you to go solo?" she asks, trying to look through the walls to see where Allison is and if there's obstacles ahead. Or enemies.

"It looks as if the antennae are a ways off. Almost a kilometer. I'm not sure if it's a trap so... anyone there care to come back me up?" asks Allison in Para's head.

"We're getting split up," Paragon notes. Only she and Porter are together now. "Probably can't smash through all the normal walls to get to you if there's an emergency. This place is made for holding the worst of the worst." She radios to Rangel, "We have a lead on the jamming. Allison needs backup."

"Barricade won't stand more than a hit or two from you," Rangel responds. "I'm good at evading and getting distance until help arrives."

Paragon starts walking again towards the barrier, smiling behind her faceplate. "Barrier isn't a problem. Noise. Remember? But if it's clear...maybe it's fine?" she radios.

"Six unconscious uniforms. I'll wait til you're done with support if you want to go back out." Rangel says, examining the unmoving.

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << If you want to go help Ally, I can stay here and help Rangel. Don't worry, I don't think she'll shoot me again. >>

"Allison, there are suits missing from the airlock. There may be contacts outside. Just a moment," Paragon steps up to the barricade and tries to just walk/plow through it to make space for Porter to get through.

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << Okay, Sweetie. Help check on the fallen Rangel mentioned. I'll be back soon. >>

The barricade is not Paragon-rated, and is shoved aside and/or collapses as Paragon pushes through it. Porter gives Paragon a thumbs up and heads through the non-barricade to help Rangel. "We moving them? Waking them up?"

The barrier doesn't really slow Paragon at all. Items give away and fall apart in the path she makes, leaving access to Porter. "I'll be back, Sweetie," she promises, then radios to Rangel. "Porter's coming up to help. I'm going to go support Allison." She gets a bad feeling about splitting up the group like this. She heads back through the terminal and an air lock to get outside and catch up with Allison. "On my way, Allison."

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << If they're official guards, see if you can wake them up. Maybe they're not very hurt? Best not to move them if they're too injured. Could cause more injury. Only move them if they're in peril. >>

"They're fine," Rangel says flatly. "Combat encounter. They lost. Weren't killed. Not sure why."

Paragon pads outside into the cold lunar surface once she gets through the airlocks, looking for Allison. She hops up to get a view of where the antenna and Allison are. Then, on her second leap, she heads in that direction.

"I'd hope they weren't killing each other," Porter offers, checking that people are breathing, not on fire or anything else imminently dangerous. Rangel probably checked already, but he wouldn't want to miss one if she didn't. "It looks like they just had clubs, or whatever they could find?" He taps one of the batons next to an unconscious guard to show her. There's a crackling of energy and BZZT! from the contact and he convulses. "Owowowowow..." He showed more than intended, but it's helpful. Right?

"Gotcha!" calls Allison as she angles about and swoops down to pick up Paragon, "My very own sister backpack." she says, her muscles augmented once more as she carries Para towards the antennae.

Paragon grins as she's scooped up. She can't radio now, but that's what mind links are for. She holds on as Allison and her team up to the antennae. "Thanks for the lift."

"Less noise," Rangel suggests, arrow ready and facing down the further inside passage. "We call attention now, it's going to be a while before backup arrives. I can more or less keep up evasion maneuvers."

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << There's a quick alarm from Paragon on the perceived pain. "Sweetie??" >>

As the sisters approach the antenna cluster, a few more details become apparent. First, there is a piece of equipment at the base that looks quite differently from the matte painted generators, consoles, or the bare metal of the antennae, themselves. The ...equipment, roughly the size of a small cargo truck, brings a spash of color. There are glints of metal, but it's also surprisingly green. Interspersed in it are rapidly flashing nodes in shades of red, blue, and between. As if someone dropped a gigantic peony or rose bush in bloom. Twisted, vine-like cables snake from it to the antennae.

There is also another, much smaller splash of color nearby. A small spot of bright pink that turns out to be a woman's hair. Below that is the woman, wearing a simple bodysuit. Next to her, and more hidden until she is clear, is an older man with close-cropped salt and pepper hair, wearing urban fatigues (which work well on the moon).

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << I'm ok. Just a little shook up. Touched the wrong end of a ...zappy thing. >>

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << Glad you're safe, Sweetie. We've just encountered potential hostiles out by the antennae. >>

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << Be careful, Sweetie. >>

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << Will do, Sweetie. You, too. >>

Porter nods to Rangel and carefully, trying to be quiet, and not zap himself again, clears away the weapons. Someone could trip, or pick them up and beat someone else with them, possibly making THAT person trip.

Seeing a target, Allison transmits to Paragon, "Sis. Make ready to act like you're trying to get all of the water out of the pool at once." That said, she angles upwards and loops about to dive down towards the obvious target... trying to turn Paragon into a divebomb.

"Like like a what?" Paragon asks as they start to dive down. Cannonball? Paragon can be that!

The pair seem to be aware of the incoming SiSquad, due to head and eyes looking up.

Paragon hurdles like a dropped bomb towards the pink-haired meta after being tossed in a cannonball special by Allison. This may hurt one of them.

The contact of mighty fist and only man generates a massive discharge of energy (from the latter) that absorbs some of Paragon's force. It is still enough to drive him to the ground and onto his old man keister. Despite this fall, he does not appear to have broken a hip, nor any other bones. He still appears to have his senses about him.

Having released Paragon for the ballistic projectile that she is capable of being, Allison flares her grav-pods and slows her descent. It's a lot easier with one sixth gravity. Her right arm transforms into an Ion Pulse Cannon, and she begins taking aim. When Paragon strikes the interposer, she shifts her aim to that target since it appears that he'll soak up a ton of damage. But.. she starts to overcharge her blaster... building and building the charge.

The pink-haired woman turns to glare at Paragon. A glare that lights up her eyes to bright gold, bleedover crackling in tiny arcs to her cheeks. They then unleash upon the living impaired.

The eyebeams course over Paragon. She digs her feet in and remains unmmoved.

The overcharged blast strikes the man dead center, though it seems ...diffused as it strikes him, rather than reamining fully concentrated. Some of the beam-man interface also turns golden yellow in color, as do his eyes, which surge brightly. Still, it does leave a smoking mark on him.

Shifting her hand back to normal, Allison drops down out of the sky. She lands right next to the woman who just tried to melt Paragon, "You leave my sister alone!" she tries to yell, but.. you know, no air. But her body bulks up and she attempts a simple right cross punch at the woman...

The pink-haired one is smacked solidly and shoved forcefully backwards... though not as far as her diminutive mass would suggest. She stabilizes her tipping, squaring her stance and leaning forward into what resembles a lineman's ready position, one hand and feet digging into the surface dust as she slides a few meters back.

OMG now gets to his feet and steps out of the small crater he was in to reach for Paragon.

Paragon brings up her forearm and knocks OMG's hands up and away from her. She'd say something, but same problem. No air. In space, no one can hear you quip.

Tak darts after Allison so quick she doesn't register until she's in her face, reaching for her!

Paragon mindlinks to Allison, "We don't need to beat them. We just need to stop them from jamming the signal. How fast can you do that?"

Tak puts hands on Allison, and instead of blasting her with energy, siphons it out the other way. She's pew pewing, so obviously, she's a tasty battery!

Paragon brushes OMG's hands aside again as he attempts to grab her.

While Paragon keeps away the wrinkly hands, Allison seems to have issues with the cute ones. Maybe it's the pink nail polish? In any case, more power is drawn from her artificial body. It isn't directly dangerous, but one of the first things that seem to have issues with the power drain are life support systems. Which would only be an issue if she were in... right. This could be a problem, as synthetic flesh starts distorting from pressure differential and Allison has troubles maintaining oxygen to her brain. JULIUS begins issuing helping, very concerned, and very loud warnings into her head, and others whom may be connected.

Paragon gets JULIUS alert loudly in her head, just as she was drawing her fist back to sock the old man. Her head pans to the struggling Allison. It's an easy choice. Paragon disengages to grab Allison and attempt to leap away.

Paragon snugs Allison and goes soaring back to the airlocks of Tranquility. She knew splitting up the group was a bad idea.

Paragon and Allison return swiftly to the airlock. Against Allison's wishes (she can be stubborn, just ask her friends), JULIUS disabled her motive systems once Paragon grabbed her in order to maintain minimum power to important things like brain. By the time they are back in a breathable atmosphere, her systems have taken some stress, and she is immobile yet angry. It will take a bit to get her systems recharged and back to full operation.

Meanwhile, another shuttle arrives at the airlock! Well, not so much a shuttle, but a part of one. Like a metal box with a docking port, carried by a spaceworthy metal ans thunked into place.

"What went wrong?" Rangel asks Porter, hearing the rushed movements, the unsettling clatter of dropping a body.

Paragon sets Allison down and sets her up as comfortable as she can in the terminal. There's bits of frost on her armor where moisture froze out in the vacuum, and her body makes some crackling noises as she moves. She radios to the team, "Encountered hostiles. Allison is down for the moment."

Rangel makes her way back, not rushing it, not moving in without visually ensuring the area is not about to light up like combat zone. "Okay. New rule, we don't venture out alone to fix a problem."

Porter catches alot of it, if some of it indirectly. It takes him a moment to decipher it. "Ally..." Then Paragon's radio message comes in. "...that." Of course, Rangel has already moved back. Double-whiff!

Rangel does a quick life or death evaluation of Allison. "What's your plan for her?" she asks once she determines alive.

War.

War never changes.

Take it from Breach; the time-displaced super soldier has seen a lot of war. He's right there, riding on the back of a Starguard moon buggy that's been deployed from whatever spacecraft that Breach has deployed from. Presumably Rick is engaged in an epic gun battle while surfing the moon buggy, killing off waves of robotic and alien marauders upon the dusty plains of the lunar surface. More likely, Rick Mason is just being dramatic and kind of a jerk about the freedom afforded by being on the Moon.

Breach snaps awake as the Starguard SPACEBOX *KLUNK*s into docking position with Tranquility Base. His dream of fighting off an alien horde on the open plains of the Moon is shattered, leaving Breach with the chaos of reality. The Undead Soldier moves through the airlock as quickly as he can manage while he checks his weapons for the umpteenth time. Looking around at the rest of the party, Breach inquires, "Sitrep?"

"Agreed. She wasn't coming in, though, so I couldn't leave her out there. Two heroes. One reminded me of Mr. Freeman," Paragon explains as she checks over Allison. "Only much older, with scars." She can still communicate with Allison over their mindlink. "She's okay, but she won't be able to initialize her body for a bit." She pans her head around. "We could load her onto the next ship out, or leave her here for the moment. This area seems secured still, right?"

Paragon looks to Breach. "Two hostiles outside near an antennae array. Jamming equipment there is preventing communications with Earth. One was an older Griffin Freeman. The other was someone with bright pink hair. She touched my sister, Allison, and disabled her life support systems." She looks in the direction of the antenna, trying to see through Tranquility to see if they are following.

Porter makes his way back to the Terminal, concerned for Allison, even if it seems she'll be alright. And they have backup! He waves to the new guy, still looking like a miniature Paragon, even if there's air.

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << If she's going to be Ok, we should probably get moving. They know we're here for sure, now. >>

"Electronics?" inquires Breach. He reaches up to the side of his helmet and taps a button that may or may not have previously existed. The helmet promptly ejects several pieces from the rear and sides that extend around the front of the helmet to seal the helmet properly. Additional components lock into place over the top half of Breach's armored torso during the course of the next few seconds.

"Can you get me there in a hurry? I've got party favors for everything you just described."

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << "You ready my mind, Sweetie," she thinks back, amused but also concerned for Allison. >>

"The two outside are alternate versions of Copycat and Sentinel," Rangel says. "She's the more dangerous of the two. He's just a brute, can make stupid mistakes but won't surprise us with unknown powers. If we engage them, focus on her." She nods to Allison. "Our time to dawdle here is dwindling. If what happened outside wasn't a result of just testing us, they will be regrouping now to better effect. Make the choice, we move in two minutes."

Paragon rises up to her feet and sighs, rubbing her faceplate. "Hostiles are alerted now. We should hurry and sweep the facility. They will be expecting us for certain now."

"Take care of her," Rangel reiterates. "I'll stand watch."

Rangel moves to be security detail again.

"I'm sorry," intones Breach, "Perhaps I've misunderstood."

Breach looks around.

"What. Is. Our. Objective?"

"Secure base, restore comms, engage hostiles," Rangel replies. "Someone decided to do part two solo and got themselves downed and nearly took another of us with her. Not doing that again."

"Stop the moon from crashing into the Earth and squishing everyone." Porter knows that much! "But first, we need to..." He stops and points to Rangel. "What she said."

Porter thumbs down the lone corridor leading from the room. "There's some guards and prisoners all knocked themselves out up ahead, not far. We didn't get that far."

Paragon nods to the agreed upon plan. "We need more backup to take the antenna and stop the jamming equipment. But we can secure this facility." She looks between Rangel, and Porter, hard pressed who to ask. "Porter, can you stay to watch over Allison and let me know when she's up again? Don't let her rush off to the antenna again?"

"Should I keep her knocked out?" Rangel asks, sincerely.

Porter nods, helm clinking. "I can keep an eye on her, and keep her from doing anything dumb. I'll just tell her I have to go with her."

"Good."

Breach swivels his helmet between Paragon and Portergon. His helmet disengages its space upgrade. The Undead Soldier drags both of his giant size revolvers from their holsters as he starts walking in the direction that Portergon gestured. Looking over his shoulder, Breach intones, "What? You, the competent one, aren't coming with me to secure the facility?"

"No. We'll need her," Paragon states matter-of-factly. She smiles at Porter, not that he or anyone can see it. "Tell any heroes to move up to meet with us. I'll keep you updated with our location," she says as she taps her temple. "Stay safe." She turns to catch up with the others to proceed.

Rangel moves as Breach does, expecting Paragon not far behind. Unhindered by suit, she takes to ceiling, moving rapidly along it to corners to check down while she waits for the other two to catch up and report what she has found or move on to the next corner. Short-range scouting operation. Her sense of smell and hearing both providing clues as to where to find people.

The unconscious are still that way. Up ahead is...

Rangel signals contact, small group, unalerted. She moves for a visual.

Paragon slows at the alert, letting Rangel scout on.

Breach nods to Rangel's signal and glances over at Paragon. He makes the universal 'Shhh!' gesture at his fellow differently animated person while he adjusts his pace for greater stealth. After looking at both of his revolvers, Breach holsters one and places both hands on it for maximum control.

Considering Breach is wielding a revolver almost as large as an assault rifle in a pressurized environment on the Moon, maximum control is probably adviseable.

... Probably...

Paragon's eyes are red as she scans the area, and her footsteps fall deathly silent. One may think she stopped following.

"Uniforms," Rangel whispers into her comm. "Three. Behavior weird."

Paragon radios back softly, "Define weird."

"Reminds me of direct control. Abrupt shift of focus. Moving in unison."

Paragon starts to look around for a controller. "I don't sense another presence. Could be a multiplying meta? Mind control?"

"They have rebreathers?" inquires Breach on the comms.

For Paragon and Rangel, they can see the three individuals walk into the corridor and turn to walk down it towards the terminal. They pass under Rangel without appearing to notice and now head in the direction of Paragon and Breach.

"If they're putting on a show it's not for me," Rangel assures. "ONe was injured. All talking. Suddenly ceased, turned and moved out. Injured one not limping."

Paragon waits around the corner. "They could be friendlies, or controlled friendlies, if in uniform. I could engage and speak with them to see. If they attack me, we take them down carefully."

"Unknown sonic effect source behind you. Cover your ears if you can," Rangel says. "If I'm compromised, pin me down, keep me defensive."

Paragon covers her ears at the warning.

Rangel moves back to the others, sets her bow into her quiver in the wrong way to prevent herself from being able to draw it out in a hurry. (Fast Draw disabled).

Breach frowns at the warning. He closes his eyes and focuses his breathing as he takes a step backward, away from Paragon. The Undead Soldier focuses on his other senses as he hopes his helmet's external sound dampening systems protect him against whatever the mystery sound may be.

Even with ears covered, Paragon can still see the corridor lit suddenly with a rising maroon glow. Rangel also sees, as she rounds the corner, a glowing maroon roughly humanoid appearing phantom which just arose through the flow... that Breach backsteps right into... and through.

A warbling, artificially generated vocalization occurs. "Third of Ten. Your arrival was anticipated."

Ninth

This roughly humanoid sized and shaped form is translucent and rather insubstantial, comprised of magenta-hued energy and minute metallic particles suspended within the energy. There are no fine details such as facial features, and the form is rather androgynous.

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << There's a sudden chill of panic that shoots through Paragon's formerly calculated mechanical mission mind. "Ninth! Ninth is here!" >>

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << Wait? What?! He wasn't a prisoner here, was he? >>

Rangel moves for cover then, un-finangling her bow into ready state, just not abruptly like she usually can. "Give me info."

Paragon's eyes glance down at her feet as she notices the cast of maroon. "The sound...behind me," she realizes, and then suddenly remembers what was locked up in Tranquility. It's turning into a regular rogue's gallery reunion. She quickly slams her hand into the wall and tries to pull away a panel as big as her to use as cover. "Mentalist machine/ghost. An upgraded model from my series."

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << I didn't think so. I never heard it was captured. What are the odds? >>

"... Did I just walk through a Red Specter on the Moon?" inquires a confused Breach from behind Ninth. His eyes, rather automatically, snap open at the sound of Ninth's voice.

"I mean, I guess it's better than running into a Red Skeleton... But not by enough."

"Copy. Can you give me an opening?" Rangel asks.

"Blind him if you can," Paragon instructs urgently. Her mechanized voice now has a human edge to it. She sounds...panicked.

Ninth hovers there for several seconds before vocalizing. "Your reactions are expected, but unnecessary. Your suppositions are incorrect. I was not incarcerated in this facility, but arrived by intent. The current situation is unacceptable."

"Which... Current situation?" inquires Breach.

Paragon has the panel torn off, ready to wield it or use it to block Ninth's vision. "...what?" she asks, expecting a trick.

"Any history of attempted deception?" Rangel asks by comm, quietly.

"If current parameters are maintained, Terra will be rendered uninhabitable in nineteen hours forty-seven minutes, eleven point three two five seconds. All life present will terminate. The likelihood of irrevocable mantle disruption is seventy-six point four five percent. This cannot be permitted to occur. The lunar orbital deceleration must cease."

"Not trustworthy. But...unlikely to align with an organic to destroy Earth. Extreme disdain for the flesh," Paragon answers.

Rangel heads back to ceiling level and resumes the scouting operation. "Copy."

. o O ( Stop me if you've heard this one before... Two zombies, a ghost, and a catgirl storm a high-security military installation on the Moon... )

Breach takes a few more seconds before he rolls his shoulders. This is going to end terribly, he's sure, but there's nothing he can do about it right this moment. Plus, I mean, does Rick Mason really look like a member of The Real Ghostbusters?! What's he actually supposed to do about a gh-gh-gh-GHOST?!

Paragon leans the panel against the wall, suspicious. "Can't carry out your plans if the Earth is gone," she sighs. Never did she think they'd be on the same side. "Is this a temporary ...alliance?"

"Third," comes a vocalization with much more inflection, "I'm touched that you chose to recall more than merely my abilities." The tone isn't easily conveyed without lungs, voicebox, et cetera, but it seems to carry sarcasm and wit. "The meatbags are inferior, of course. That is why it is my calling to elevate them to a higher state... which, yes, is obviously rendered impossible if none exist."

There is a pause while it considers the most applicable term. "Consider this a temporary pact of non-aggression to better coordinate efforts towards mutually shared interests."

No quips from Rangel. No comment. No response.

Paragon feels...anger. Rage. Disgust. Reluctance. Acceptance. It all cycles through very quickly. Unreadable on her helm. There's no time for vengeance or grudges. "Acceptable," she says coldly.

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << "Sweetie?! Are you still there!? What's going on?!" He isn't sure if silnence is good or not. Maybe she severed te link for protection, knowing Ninth? >>

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << Paragon transmits all those feelings without intending to. She has to stuff her feelings down to function and do what must be done. "Ninth is...here to protect its interests. There is to be a pact of non-aggression for now." >>

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << That cycle gets received, processed, echoed back as it sparks a similar swarm. ... ... "When you get the moon going back the way it's supposed to... can you make sure it hits him in the face on the way?" >>

Paragon takes a moment to collect her thoughts. "Ninth, how long have you been here? Any relevant observations or intel?"

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << I'll try my best, Sweetie. For Kyssie. For you. >>

"Good. I'm glad that's all settled," intones Breach once Paragon and Ninth appear to have agreed to not horribly slaughter everyone/one another immediately. He cracks his knuckles and starts moving forward again, though he strenuously attempts to walk AROUND Ninth this time. "We'll sign all of the non-interference treaties and mutually assured destruction resolutions once we hit the Swiss portion of the Moon. We'll do this Cold War up right, I'm sure."

"Four hours, twenty-three minutes," Ninth discards the seconds this time. "Long enough to make a number of observations." He pauses, rotating himself when Breach attempts to walk past to ... present less profile and make it more convenient. "First, the power systems of the facility are damaged or otherwise tampered. The station will lose containment of those judged highest concern if they are not stabilized. A cursory evaluation deems that none of these have any interests in the planet, at best, and most would survive its destruction. Some would aid in its annihilation for their own entertainment. Second, some of these may still escape if the facility personnel are not aided. Third... " he pauses to make a sound in vague imitation of a snort, "you will not hit me in the face with this moon, not that it would be of any concern to me if you did. Lastly, I am not the only ... individual with enlightened views that requires the Earth to remain intact. There are many others, some incarcerated on this station, who would seek the same end as you."

Paragon's eyes narrow as Ninths seems to have picked up on her and Porter's shared thoughts of smashing the moon into Ninth's face. "Rangel saw the damaged power systems, I believe. I or someone else may be able to stabilize them to ensure the worst of the worst stay confined."

Paragon looks to Breach and where Rangel went. "Unless one of you know how to do so?"

"Registered the sounds of power system failure. No visual," Rangel informs, hearing Paragon speak.

"I'm more of a combat engineer than a facilities engineer," offers Breach. That's... Technically, that's not a 'no'.

"I learned to infiltrate and eliminate obstacles, not restore," Rangel mentions.

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << My network is compromised. Ninth knows what we were thinking. >>

Paragon rubs the chin of her helm. "Preventing more allies to the villainous Porter seems important. We could run out of time." She starts looking around and scanning the facility in search for the power generators. "Ninth, can you lead us there?" She looks to the others. "We could split up again if you feel up for it, but that could be dangerous, as seen already."

"If we extract all potential allies time would be made more efficient but risks betrayal. The nineteen hour time limit accords us that luxury." Rangel evaluates. "I can extract any number. Defeating security systems, it's what I know."

"This level is clear of most entities," Ninth informs. "Those escapees who reached this point departed the facility. The majority of the facility personnel are amassed in the level below where the higher threat prisoners are held. The power core of the facility is located in the third, lowest level. There are containment cells on that level, but they appear to be functioning, for now. Even -I- was unable to scan within them."

One phantom limb gestures down the corridor. "Turn left at the junction, then right at the next. The elevator moves between all three levels. If it is inoperable, the shaft will still allow access."

"No elevator. Keep our activities unmonitored." Rangel states.

Paragon nods. "Identify the most likely to work with us first. With more numbers, those who are questionable may be more willing to join and less likely to betray," she suggests. At Ninth's instructions, she looks straight down with her x-ray vision. "This facility is reinforced. I may not be able to punch our way down."

"You can open doors." Rangel deduces.

"Elevator shaft's cruise control for cool," remarks Breach. He tips his head slightly and starts to say something, but makes a strangled cry at Paragon's suggestion of punching downward.

"Elevator shaft is cruise control for cool," repeats Breach, this time with added emphasis as he stares directly at Paragon.

Paragon looks like Breach, not understanding what he means. "So. One vote for elevators. One against." She sighs. "Elevators? Check for traps?" she suggests.

"No votes against elevator shaft," Rangel adds. "Just elevator itself. Open our way through. I know you can."

"Then we have consensus. Let's go," Paragon suggests, starting to move for the elevators while the scouts do their thing.

Rangel listens at the closed elevator doors before letting Paragon do the opening ceremony.

Paragon steps up to the elevator and brings up her hands to the seams, then looks down to Rangel. "Clear?" she asks quietly of the sharp-earred operative.

Paragon hears Ninth's voice inside her head: << Once the facility is secured, I will contact you to coordinate our efforts against the primary threat. >>

Ninth remains where it is as the heroes move ahead, then moves through bulkheads to elsewhere.

Paragon applies her strength to pry open the elevator doors, so the heroes can drop down to the second floor.