RESISTANCE IS FUTILE - [modplot/log catchall]

[letsgolegion]

Who| Everyone who signed up
What| "Resistance is Futile" plot catchall
Where| All over the place, but mostly Colu
When| After the network briefings and deployment.
Warnings/Notes| cw: zombies, body transformation (probably). If your subthread has something triggery pop up, put it in a subject of the one of the comments.



The entire planet Colu is a sprawling urban mess, one of the worst environments to fight zombies. Yes, the cities are clean and impressive and yes they're meticulously planned, but they're planned for elegance, efficiency, and ease of transportation -- not defense. While Colu had suffered under the yoke of various oppressors in the past, that was over a millenia ago, and they've grown complacent, thinking their world untouchable due to their technological superiority.

Now they're paying for it. Robo-zombies swarm through the various mega-cities, spreading their disease by touching or wounding their prey. Due to the many walkways, hover-lift tubes, maintenance tunnels, and sewer systems, there seems to be no way of stopping them.

When the Legion first arrives, it seems hopeless. The Coluan Home Defense Forces aren't used to combat and are struggling to set up defensive zones. But then something unexpected happens.

Pods drop in all over Colu from orbit. The CHDF regard them with suspicion and disdain, but they have their orders, and the civilians regard them with fear, despite word starting to spread about who's come to help.

Kid Q's voice comes over the comms and while it's hard to hear it through the crackling, she sounds absolutely delighted.

"Look alive, folks, we just got a miracle. It took some negotiating with the CHDF, but they finally relented on accepting some help from others beyond us."

The pods all burst open and Robotican combat mechs start rolling and marching out, spreading out over all of Colu.

"The Roboticans haven't been able to translate it to a cure because the virus was meant to interact with them differently than organics, but due to their disaster preparedness, they were able to develop a block to the Brainiacs' virus and only suffered a few casualties. Robotican leadership says they're eager to have their chance to make reparations to organics by defending them from this threat -- and that they're honored to stand with the Legion."

It's not a magic fix. It'll still be a deadly struggle. But at least they've got more than the inexperienced CHDF at their backs.

"Let's make the most of it, Legionnaires."

[ooc: This will be used as a plot catchall, but you can make your own log posts in Legion Missions set in the plot if you like. All major plot parts on Colu will be set up here, with "The Reject Pile" part set in the Legion World comm (with an accompanying network post). That said, if you'd like to set individual plot threads on Legion World, you can also start your own Legion World posts in legionworld.]

Comments

PART 1 - General Log Catchall

[letsgolegion]

There's work to be done. The Legionnaires are sent on a variety of vital missions all over Colu. With a threat this big, there's no end to the dangerous work that needs to be done.

[ooc: All general plot logs can go here! In the subject, please note if your log is open to others or closed to certain characters.]

Defending a low-priority zone

[walkingballpit]

When he'd talked to Kid Quantum about wanting this assignment, Robbie had pictured something less urban. The big town in a rural area - that sort of thing. It had taken a few minutes for the learned and forgotten information from the Legion geography and history classes to come back to him.

Almost all of Colu's populations lived in its large cities, and that wasn't an exaggeration. Less than 1% of the billions and billions of Coluans lived in the machine-covered wasteland that passed for countryside, which meant what 'low priority' actually encompassed was worse than he'd imagined.

The comparatively tiny coastal city of Drr'kt had its fair share of skyscrapers and, if Robbie had to ballpark it, the population of Queens shoved into the space of Manhattan. If the city did get targeted, the small force allocated to Drr'kt was not going to be able to prevent some losses. Robbie kept reminding himself of that as he ran himself ragged, doing whatever he could.

Option A: Pre-Fight

"Yes, I know they're built to withstand a zetatonne of force per meter! You've told me. Three times." Robbie was getting a brutal reminder about why Coluans had a reputation of being arrogant and snotty: some of them were really arrogant and snotty. Also, he and they all knew that he was the idiot in every conversation. "And that's fantastic. I'm trying to tell you that if you keep telling people to shelter in place no matter what they see or here, you're basically turning them into giant barrels full of fish - and this analogy is not helping me, is it? Grife, it shouldn't be this hard."

The military type he's arguing with, who was fairly considerate and recognized that Speedball was trying to help, waved Robbie off in the direction of comm equipment with the suggestion that Robbie see to an implementation of Robbie's good idea of a broadcast telling the local population that the Legion was here and that he could even include the message that they should dress to cover as much organic skin as possible "as if that wasn't readily apparent."

But, no, he was not at leave to suggest that the people seek shelter anywhere other than the huge, sentients-be-here, housing unit towers.

"Don't you have any urban explorers?," he shouted after the officer. "There has to be ancient off-the-map subway tunnels somewhere!"

Option B: Fight

The first attack in Drr'kt sounded more like a recon mission to Robbie's X-box-infused war tactics. A fast-moving robo-zombie was spotted tracing the city's borders, occasionally trying its luck on whatever sentient it spotted. One quickly became three became eight, before a surviving CHDF patrol got the word out.

Robbie was moving to intercept a group of four on one of the highest walkways, intending to blast them off it. They're hard to kill, they're hard to kill. Maybe if he hit them hard enough, he could punt them into the ocean. "Let them get close enough that we don't miss."

Option B

[hallaifyouherd]

The slight elf at Robbie's back surveys the approaching swarm, eyes darting from one target to the next. Clustered close together? Yeah. She might have a plan for this. "Missing won't be the problem," she assures him, her grip on her staff tightening.

This is all fairly horrifying, as that sort of thing goes. But she imagines they'll either have time to feel that horror later, when the threat subsides, or they'll be dead and it won't be an issue anymore. That's a way of coping with this, right?

"You've got a plan?" she continues, quirking an eyebrow at Robbie.

A

[sir_vancelot]

"Somehow, I just can't see these guys having much in the way of urban explorers." The familiar voice comes from above, but that's probably not that surprising to Robbie. After all, Vance's part in all of this is going to mean he's on the move quite a lot.

He drops down, though, setting down beside Robbie. "On the other hand, I'd be very surprised if they don't have a map of everything subterranean around here."

[Locked to Wash and Dipper]

[isthisapidge]

The hall is quiet and Pidge can't decide if that's a good thing or not. There's no sound in this lab, everyone who could be evacuated had been evacuated and what scans she could run in the moments between sneaking around indicated that the coast was clear, but she's seen enough of these movies to be wary of something suddenly popping out of, like, an airduct or something with no warning.

"I think that's it," she nods to Dipper, indicating a room down the hall, "there should be enough electromagnets to rig up a mechanoform-repelling pulse. Just hope we'll be able to carry them all."

[captainbuzzkill]

"Nnnot really a problem," says Dipper. "I can just carry them with my teke."

But that's not really worrying him. He thinks they can get their hands on what they need and carry it out pretty easily.

For about the kajillionth time he checks his omnicom because even with them all being kind of hinky now, they can do at least some detection of dangerous things like the mechanoforms. But it doesn't ping anything.

Still, the hair on the back of his neck is raised. These aren't the zombies he's familiar with. These are way harder to beat, and way creepier, and just as contagious.

He looks up and down the hallway. While some of the rooms seem to have solid walls and secure doors, a lot of the offices and labs have glass ones.

"This is getting, like, less and less defensible as we go in."

He checks his alert messages from the joint Legion/CHDF band that's been issuing them to the teams.

"But it looks like the nearest defense line is still thirty-two miles away."

They're in safe territory, supposedly, which is why two younger Legionnaires were allowed to go on a simple retrieval run on their own, especially since other Legionnaires are close by.

Still, something feels...wrong. But maybe it's just all the quiet. (Or maybe the whole Bill thing and getting spaced still has him on edge.)

Rico Dredd | OTA | CW: gore, mercy killing, violence

[truefaceofthelaw]

Places like Colu is just exactly Rico's area of expertise. Dense, cramped, and full of cits in a panic for one reason or another. The twisting corridors and streets don't do much to confuse him, and he navigates them with relative comfort. You haven't made it as a Judge until you've been through a riot gone really bad. And sure, these "rioters" are a little harder to put down, a little more deadly than the usual, but Rico's good at what he does. Very good.

Time for him to finally show it.

[A: A spirited discussion with one of the staff in the briefing rooms:]

"...No, I don't drokking care if I'm listed as whatever on your records. This is an emergency, and I need my lawgiver ammunition back."

"-...NO it's not the drokking same! You think stun shots are going to be useful in a situation like this?"

"-...Yes, that includes the incendiaries and high-ex. And yes I know how to use them, I'm not an idiot."

"-...Well, it looks like the circumstances have changed, haven't they? Any idiot could tell that. So why don't you use your spugwit brain to think outside of the box of a head they gave you for once?"

[B: Difficult decisions]

On Colu, in one of the secured, hastily barricaded habitation towers, Rico is quietly talking with a Coluan with a bloody injury on her arm, clutching it tight with tears in her eyes.

"I'm giving you a chance to say goodbye. You should be wise to take it."

Other Coluans are standing warily around in the corners of the room, some looking afraid. But not of Rico.

"Judging from our situation reports," he says, subtly cajoling, voice pitched so low it's barely a rumble. "You have about three minutes before you turn into an inorganic construct. At this point in time, there is no cure. There is no stopping that process. You can either have a chance to say your last words and go out as peacefully as you can. Or you can turn and endanger everybody in this room."

Rico tilts his head, staring at her. "You can see the logic in my words, right? Use some of that eighth level intellect I've heard so much about."

The metallic silver is creeping up her arm even as he speaks. He draws his lawgiver, slowly and carefully.

"One hundred and fifty seconds left, citizen. Make a decision, or I'm gonna have to make it for you. And we both don't want it to come to that."

[C: Rooftop defence]

Rico is perched on the roof of a weapons depot, belly down and rifle up. The wind is howling around them, a freezing bitter cold that penetrates his uniform. Steadying against the wind, he pulls the trigger and blows a chunk out of a shoulder of a particularly large robo-zombie that made it just past the barricades, sending the limb spinning away from the rest of its body. He chambers another round with a rough yank, and this time his aim is on spot. Why couldn't he have a more useful power? Like the ability to shoot drokking lasers out of his eyes or something.

He exhales angrily, and holds out a hand without looking. "Ammo." He says, tersely. "Someone to drag that thing out of here before it gets up. And a carpet bombing, if that hadn't been ordered yet. This facility is indefensible, and we're better off destroying it. What's keeping them?"

[C. ii]

Well, looks like Rico got his way. The robo-zombies are truly swarming at the gates now, and explosives are being set before they can be assimilated. Because the only thing worse than robo-zombies are robo-zombies with guns for hands. Rico has several bags slung over his back, filled with slim, black charges, and he shoves one of those bags in the closest person's direction.

"Make yourself useful and plant these, will you?"

[D: Retrieval mission]

Rico's been up for 48 straight hours without sleep now, and has for the most part been called out to be part of one mission or another with perfunctory breaks to shovel food into his mouth. Not the most grueling or necessary shift he's ever done, and he finds himself enjoying the action, almost. At least it's something to do, reminiscent of his usual activity. And the chaos means that his behavior is more or less going unchecked.

This time, it's a retrieval mission, infiltrating an overrun nanotech lab. He's more used to shock and awe tactics, kicking down doors or crashing through windows on his bike and opening with a salvo of gunfire. But that doesn't mean he can't be stealthy if he needs to be. He's had plenty of experience breaking in, after all. His boots tread lightly on the ground, carefully not making the usual customary tromping announcement.

[E: Oopsies]

In a corridor somewhere, a veritable mass of bodies litters the floor. It looks like a charnel house of sludge and silver, mixed with coppery blood from the few remaining organic compounds. Some dragging themselves, some moving, but all somehow, some form of incapacitated.

BANG.

A robo-zombie twitching back to life is blown backward again, its brains splattered on the floor. Rico lowers his lawgiver, gasping for breath. Just barely a meter ahead of it, he pulls himself up, propped up on his elbow, one hand wrapped around his midsection and the other dragging himself forward. It's bleeding sluggishly and trickling through the gaps between his fingertips, a gash in his transuit.

Another robo-zombie stumbles back to life, and he raises his lawgiver again.

Click.
.....Click.

Rico curses under his breath.

[Wildcard]

You'll also find him on street level or going through housing blocks floor by floor, tasked with finding pockets of survivors and civilians and reporting their locations for evacuation. Feel free to run into him whenever. He's a busy man, and he knows what he can handle.

C: ii

[pump_action]

Claire had been doing her best to avoid Rico ever since the sugar packet incident, but in a situation like this with all hands on deck she couldn't afford to be picky. She's content to let him do his thing against the robo-zombies, breaking out Rexy when things get hairy.

She let's Rico take the lead with his explosives, running along beside as they reposition. Then, suddenly, he's shoving a bag of explosives at her and while she grabs it out of instinct, she also sputters with indignant confusion.

"Wha-- ? I -- ! This isn't --"

B

[gonebyebye]

The lawgiver slides through Rico's hands like water, as Ray grabs it by the barrel and phases it out of his grip.

"We don't execute civilians. Especially when they're potentially curable. Not now, not ever. Unless you'd like a one-way ticket to Takron-Galtos." Ray says, glaring at the Judge.

"Ma'am," he adds, turning to the infected Coluan, trying to sound as comforting as possible, "I'm afraid you're going to need to leave the area. Unfortunately, Arbitraitor here is right about you being a danger. I can open up a quick way for you to get out. After that, I swear we'll do our best to find you and cure you once we have a solution. You have my word as a Legionnaire and a Ghostbuster."

B

[agnominal]

Suddenly, the woman's head jerks back, a hole square between her eyes. She doesn't even have time to look surprised, though that pained look appears to have eased as she crumples backwards.

Several yards back, and Locus lowers his rifle, staring at Rico. It's hard to tell through the helmet, but he looks as though he might be judging the man for drawing this production out as he has. If he needed to kill her, he should have done it, not stand around talking about it.

It's the sort of stupid mistake he was used to his former partner making.

Thad Thawne | OTA | CW: Body Horror and Gore

[mirror_soldier]

[a - retrieval | ota]

Trying to use his super speed sparingly, Thad made his way around the lab at what Max had always referred to as 'normal speed', attempting to make use of what infiltration skills he had. It seemed as if most of the scattered hordes had left the buildings to run through the streets and spread their infection to as much of the panicked populous as they could. But not all of them.

Even in here he'd come across a few. They stood rigidly, surprisingly calm compared to the ones he'd run around outside. They just looked around, occasionally stalking the rooms and halls. Sentries maybe? Did they still have the capacity to strategize like that? Or were they just stuck and waiting for something to strike out at? Occasionally there seemed to be a pattern to their movements, other times not so much, at least not that he could see. Getting around them didn't prove too hard, they were still far and few between, though there were times he was forced to go through walls to get around some of the more alert of the pack.

Searching through one of the rooms, he stays low and keeps eyeing the door and the wide windows that left him feeling far too out in the open. The sudden sounds of footsteps coming down the adjacent hall make the hair stand up on the back of his neck and he scrambles to get under the sill of the windows, hoping they'll just pass by and he can go back to searching without risking a fight.

[b - lab accident | open to anyone working in the lab or on legion world in general, feel free to team up in a single thread if you would like]

There must have been a micro tear in one of his gloves. He'd checked them, double checked them, but there was no other explanation he could think of for this.

It had looked like their group was getting close to a cure, or at least something testable, but it had been well over forty hours with no sleep, no food, and consent bouncing from place to place. While this was far from being the first time Thad had ever pulled a day or two without sleep, in the past it had always been on days where there was little else he was doing aside from working in the lab, and Craydl would chirp at him every so often to remind him to eat. But right now his metabolism had burned through his energy and he was running on fumes, exhausted down to the bone and struggling to even stay alert.

That's how he must have missed the tear. He could feel something was wrong, a sharp sting spreading out from his palm, and after a small struggle to get the glove off his fears were confirmed. Metal was already seeping across his palm and digging into his skin. Backing away from the desk he'd been working at, he barely registers himself numbly bleating out a quiet "help." More of a warning than an actual cry for help, he needed the others attention, needed them to stop him, or get away.

a

[truefaceofthelaw]

The sound of footsteps coming down the corridor suddenly stops, and there's silence. But only for a second, until a familiar gravel voice rings out.

"Is that a cockroach I hear in the walls?" Rico calls out cheerily, hands on his hips. He's covered in metallic sludge and blood, splattered on his boots and front, and in a far more cheerful mood than he should be. He starts walking again, spinning his lawgiver in one hand, idly tromping closer to the source of the disturbance.

"If you're a zombie, go ahead and say no."

b - set at the very end

[captainbuzzkill]

Some of the technoforms retained some powers after they were assimilated. This had been a problem down on the planet - though they were generally mindless, a few retained slightly higher intelligence because it was Coluans that were getting assimilated.

Fortunately, the staff managed to lock down parts of the ship and call in Legionnaires to deal with Thad before much damage had been done.

It's horrible knowing yet another Legionnaire has been turned, especially since this was apparently a lab accident. Dipper's still reeling from what happened to Pidge, and as he flies in and the staff locks down the door behind him, his expression is grim and regretful.

He has a feeling that there's going to be more than one funeral on Shanghalla before this is over.

His teke shielding his body, he walks through the eerie, empty hallway and finds an abandoned repair kit from engineering, left by a tech that'd evacuated this area. Pulling out a large metal wrench-like tool, he starts banging it against the metal wall of the hallway, making it ring out like a dinner bell.

"Hey, Thad, come and get it! Nanite meal on legs here!"

FREELANCER RIDES AGAIN (Wash, North, York, Connie, Locus, Tucker)

[unrecovered]

There's a quiet thrill running up Wash's spine. He recognizes it easily - it's an impending mission. It's that bit of nervous energy left over after everything else in him is primed and ready. It's been a good long while since it's been this pronounced, but, well, they're about to walk into hell and the chances of survival are not good. It's a Project Freelancer type of mission, except it actually is meant to help and the people in charge actually do give a fuck.

The more things change, huh.

Briefing had been thorough but quick, with whatever blueprints and models they could find of their intended target: a cutting-edge Coluan medical research facility. It had been overrun, but most of the population had been in the streets or buildings close by at the time, so while the area was a goddamn mess, there had been lower technoform presence inside the building itself. "North, Locus, you're in charge of watching our exit points and each other. Keep in contact - we'll update you when we're on our way out. Connie, you're on data extract - get whatever you can as fast as you can and send it straight to Cortana. Tucker, you and I are holding the line - nothing gets in while Connie is working. York, you and Delta are with Connie, but be ready to help Tucker and I if we need you."

It's a simple strategy, but simple doesn't mean easy, and no plan ever survives first contact with the enemy. Still, it's what they have, and as long as things don't go to hell completely, they should be capable of accomplishing it. All that's left is to move out.

[goddamngrenades]

Bust in, extract data, kill zombies. Straightforward and familiar enough to have him and Delta just a little bit twitchy- but with the safety net of them having for the most part worked through their issues. Shit has been talked over and handled and they've collectively worked with and around each other since, right? Right.

Falling in like with Wash's plan with nothing more than a cheery 'sure thing, boss' had been easy and habitual. Carolina's not here- but Wash has the experience with the damned and absurd enough to step and fill those boots easily. He does, just as habitually, bump Wash with his shoulder as he walks on by to get ready for transport, checking over his gear for the umpteenth time. The Rookie is still always gonna be a little bit the rookie for him, now and forever. "You good?"

Less the drawling toll he'd give Wash before and more the checking in with the boss that he'd do for Carolina. The more things change, etc, etc.

for Locus

[nofortunateson]

Can do, he'd heard himself drawl in response to Wash's briefing, though by that point he'd already been already stacking and arranging the players just-so in his mind's eye, names and assignments and power sets, building a mental map of operations for if and when it all goes to hell. Since then he's letting his eyes drift in and out of thermals, memorizing what all of them look like on that end of the spectrum, as if most of that won't get thrown out the window at the point of engagement. But it's what he has, that and the shields and the skills that he came here with, so he's going to make the most of it.

"Looks like we get to play street sweeper," he quips to Locus as they all go through their last-minute double checks, waiting for their gate clearance to all charge on out. "Any preferences on how we do this?"

Time for these guys to face Justice! (Open to all)

[sir_vancelot]

[A: Evacuation]

Occasionally, Vance was glad that he'd gotten full spectrum telekinesis rather than his future alternate's more specialized psychokinetic blasts. Oh, he could do a good impression of the blasts if he needed to (and often was, with these robozombies), but mostly he was using it to make shields over folks who were trying to get to the evacuation points.

Noticing a cluster fo Coluans who were being converged on, Vance got on the comms. "Anybody near thetemp T-gate in the north eastern section of Zereth?" It wasn't entirely the right pronunciation, but he still tripped over Interlac sometimes. And it was more noticeable on the comm badges. "I have a group trying to get to the evac point and need a hand with some zombie busting. Or at least wrangling."


[B: Protection]

Sometimes, the robozombies weren't exactly mindless. Sometimes, they moved with far more purpose than they probably should have.

Then again, it was just possible that Vance had seen too many Romaro films.

He set down on the ground behind one of the other Legionnaires, concentrating a moment to put up a shield around as much of the building behind them as he could. One that had been pointed out as having a fairly massive bioweapon cache. "You doing okay here? Looked like you could use a bit of a hand."

[C: Wildcard]

Vance will be around, either street level or flying above, taking out clusters of robozombies and transporting civilians to evac points as much as possible.

Bigger Fish

[hepunchedhitler]

He's not a Legionnaire, not yet. They haven't quite cleared him medically. But when he heard that there was a disaster on this scale, he'd simply brushed past the distressed crowds and made his way down to the Threshold Gates in the (admittedly well-organized) chaos. No flight ring, no omnicomm, but he'd never used them before.

And, really, he should be flattered. Really. Helping out on the mission for only three or four hours and whatever menace is behind this is already pulling out the big guns to erase him. Still, it's a little hard to be flattered when the slidewalk under his feet is melting.

He'd been fighting against the techno-zombies for hours. Moving citizens, locking roboticized citizens into homes, freezers, burying them up to their necks in rockcrete... Doing what he could to slow them down. Apparently, he'd had enough, because when he rounded one corner and encountered about two dozen of the mechanical monsters, they lurched away from him rather than towards him, morphing and twisting around each other to form a horrid mass of metal tentacles, topped by a metallic alien skull.

With a cannon in its mouth.

It's a note of how insane his life is that this didn't register on the list of 'worst things ever'. He'd instantly gone on the defensive, deflecting the energy bursts as much as he could, redirecting them at the supports of a nearby parking garage, but the tentaskulled monstrosity eventually reconfigured itself, pinning him behind his shield with a solid stream. If it got much hotter, his boots would probably start smoking, but the amount of pressure against his shield meant that he couldn't move it an inch.

He'd have to think of something fast. Or hope that someone came to lend a hand. Most of the supports for the garage had been melted through by the time whoever was in control caught on, destroying the last few, if the right ones were picked, would bring the entire structure down on the skull. Fortunately, with its tentacles sunk into the ground to keep it stabilized while firing at him, it couldn't go anywhere... but neither could he.

[thedreamisdead]

A: EVACUATIONS

Coluans. She could barely tolerate them at the best of times. Give them their insufferable egos and combine that with blind, unyielding panic and you got an obnoxious mixture where everyone thought they were the most important person to evacuate. Such as the man throwing a temper tantrum at the hover lifters where a pregnant Coluan was taking up two spaces, one of which could've been used for him.

America had stepped in, listened to his grievances, letting the vitrol in his fear-filled voice wash over her. It takes about three minutes to wind down. Then she'd handcuffed him to the guard rail. His response was probably predictable. Ignoring the scene he's causing, she moves on.

After a conversation with the hover lift operator, she moves on to check with the other Legionnaire present. "Any word on when we're expecting the next batch of refugees?"

B: EMERGENCY MEDICAL TREATMENT

They'd been escorting a small group of survivors together, America and the other Legionnaire, trying to hit the nearest evac point. Unfortunately, a chance encounter with a swarm meant that they had to lay low for a little while. No comms for fear of being picked up. As little noise as possible.

Unfortunately, that's when one of their escortees pulled America aside for a quick chat and they'd vanished. By now, it's been over five minutes, but the swarms have cleared enough for them to move on. Everyone's ready except America and the straggler.

They're easy to find, at least. There's the sound of muffled protestations behind one of the doors and, when it's pushed open, America's partner is greeted with the sight of the Judge sitting on the Coluan's back. The man has a glove stuffed into his mouth and what appears to be a slowly growing patch of greenish chrome creeping up his fore-arm. She doesn't look up at the intrusion, which is fortunate given the twin red, white, and blue beams of energy shooting from her eyes, slowly heating up the blade of her boot knife.

"Oh, good. You're here. Hold him down, he's a bit of a squirmer."

Zombie Rock Out - Locked to Grif and Kubo at first, but then will be open

[iamresponding]

"I think it's brilliant," says Rich, casually shooting down a wave of robo-zombies with a blast of Nova Force energy. "As long as you can actually get there, which is possible if you can get up into the remote parts of Canada real fast. It's the least densely populated state, lots of defensible mountain terrain that zombies would have trouble climbing across. Lots of fresh water. Caribou and other animals to hunt. And the zombies would freeze in winter, so you can sweep through and try to kill a lot of 'em while they can't fight back -- if they'd even survive it. Depends on the zombie, but being frozen solid might permanently kill certain types of 'em."

Zombie defense plans are something Rich doesn't always put a lot of thought to. Sure, zombies exist in his world, but there are enough superheroes that they'd never get the chance to completely take over, right?

It's not like there's a whole Marvel Zombies imprint or anything.

OTA

[leverageintceo]

[A - Retrieval]

Parker may as well not have a super power right now, since hers is touch-based and she's not willing to risk the testing it would take to see if it would overpower the virus. But that doesn't mean she's useless. She's a thief, she's never been anything but honest and upfront with these people about that, and now they're about to find out exactly how good of a thief she is.

...Assuming her partner doesn't set off the alarms, that is.

"Watch the laser!"



[B - Rescue]

Of course. Of course someone would panic and hole up somewhere inconvenient. It doesn't matter how smart someone is, panic and instinct in the face of terrifying danger sometimes make them do stupid things.

Parker makes a pathetic noise, staring up at the panicked Coluan who had gone for higher ground and taken the stairs out below them. Of all the times for their flight rings to stop working--

"I can climb up there, but I won't be able to climb down with them holding onto me," she says. "And I'm not going to be able to calm them down. I'm...not good at that."

We're Gonna Fight, We're Gonna Fight the Good Fight

[hallaifyouherd]

Marjara makes the most of her time by diverting the oncoming hoard where she can. These streets weren't made for defense, but they can make use of them as best they can. Route and redirect where possible. So while others help herd the others to safety like halla, she does what she can to slow down or divert the bulk of the creatures.

Lightning turns out to be extremely effective at slowing them down, though he doesn't quite kill. Still. Watching a bolt shoot out of her staff and bounce in a chain from one to another, stunning an entire front line of the things for a few moments is mildly satisfying. Fire doesn't do nearly as much to slow them down, though destroying nearby buildings and bringing down rubble for cover could be a last resort, if needed.

And of course, if some of them slip past? If they get too close to one of the fleeing citizens or one of her fellow Legionnaires? They'll find themselves swiftly kept at bay as a shimmering barrier springs to life, to give their would-be victim a chance to fight or flee accordingly.

It's midway through another wave when she downs her third mana potion, swigging it quickly and chucking it to the ground in a tinkling of broken glass. "Come on..." she mutters, turning her focus back to the sound of furious approach coming from just behind that row of buildings.

Exhaustion can't take her. Not just yet.

PART 2 - Brainiac Attack

[letsgolegion]

The Brainiacs' base is a massive sinister ship, floating in place near the three kidnapped worlds. Fortunately, the size means that once the Legionnaires are aboard, they're not detected right away.

Especially since there's some unknown force hampering the security systems. Strange.

That means they have a chance to catch the Brainiacs by surprise.

[ooc: Closed to those that get RNGed for this part. Please wait until the RNG for this part of the plot has been done by the mods before posting in. Posting order will be established by the order everyone tags in. If you want to rearrange the order for character reasons, please communicate with your threadmates. Please attempt to tag at least once a day, if you can, to keep the thread moving.]

[steelandtemper]

Cortana's body gets all glassy-eyed when she's off doing her AI thing--she herself might not believe in souls, but there's clearly no one home, the body's movements smoothly mechanical and her voice coming over the team's earpieces rather than from a pair of blue-white lips.

"The security interference is ongoing. I think our Brainiac isn't quite as converted as the family would like."

For Cortana

[legionnpcs]

The prison isn't that hard to find. The being inside it rages. Its hatred is a tangible thing, something more than just 0s and 1s. It's the kind of hatred that has its own thudding heartbeat, its own shaking breath.

This AI is more than just an AI, that's what becomes more obvious as she digs in deep to where it's bound. This digital prison is a complex one, with very complicated locks. Only little bits of the trapped AI are able to reach out, mostly just giving off whiffs of its towering rage.

...and also something else. There's something strange about its code. Almost like it's just illusory. Representational, like it's just a hologram, representing something even more real.

That's because it's not just a program, it's a being made of information, programmed into the universe itself, into its base code, bound only because the Brainiacs basically know how to make physics cry uncle. They've created a prison that's partly programming and partly twisted dimensional fabric.

There's also a kill switch here, something that will just destroy the AI entirely. The trigger is clearly for the Brainiacs' benefit, in case it becomes too difficult for them to control.

Cortana can try to communicate with it, but that means potentially wandering into its grasp where she can be harmed or consumed if it can't be reasoned with.

She has three choices:

1) Try to get closer and talk to it at, but at risk of her own code
2) Free it completely blindly, despite not knowing its intentions

or

3) Kill it without knowing what it really is or what it wants or who that rage is directed at.