IN BRIGHTEST DAY - Mod Plot [LOG POST | 2 | IN BLACKEST NIGHT]

[wieldtherainbow]

Who| Everyone involved in the plot
What| A space battle
Where| In the space sector around Cargg
When| If relevant, like if you want to note it's after an event.
Warnings/Notes| Things may get violent/gory!

Unfortunately, even the last Green Lanterns didn't know where the yellows or reds had hidden their central power batteries. Their long lost bases were still lost to the universe. That meant the only way to find them was to wait for them to attack.

In the space sector around the planet Cargg, reports of an asteroid mining freighter getting attacked clued the Legion and their allies into where the yellows were. By the time they got there, the red Lanterns had also joined in -- attacking all comers, including the yellows themselves. As the different groups of Lanterns collided in combat, the deaths started almost instantly. New rings started seeking owners, including those of the reds and yellows.

By now, they'd all received at least enough basic training with their rings to function in battle, and they all still had use of their normal powers.

A squad of Green Lanterns led by Kilowog gathered around the freighter, trying to shield it from attack.

"Listen up, poozers!" Kilowog called out to his greens, leading them into the fight and setting up a perimeter. "We need to give this ship time to evac. Hold the line! If it's yellow or red, it's not getting through!"

Kid Quantum, wielding a blue ring, called out to the Legionnaires, "We need to protect that freighter! Everyone move in to support the greens. Hit and run tactics! Hit 'em fast and hit 'em hard. Let's go, Legion!"

Comments

[headinjuries]

There wasn't any understanding in the way Sam turned to Rich, no sign that he was comprehending anything he said.

Because he wasn't. Everything might as well have been static; the words were all noise. The ring was just another spot of minor contrast in a haze of red. Details didn't matter, because Sam couldn't distinguish Rich from any other Lantern on the battlefield, or recognize him as someone important. The only thing he could latch onto was - someone. Moving.

A target.

He opened his mouth, and blood sprayed forth.

[iamresponding]

He didn't throw up a construct in time -- not that it would've really mattered. He did at least manage to thicken his protective aura, but that also hardly meant anything. He could feel the heat, he could feel it already burning through. Part of his helmet that got hit with some of the spray was actually melting and melting some of the flesh of his face along with it.

But pain was just pain. He'd burned plenty of times before, like the first time he took in the whole Nova Force, way back during all that craziness with Garthan Saal, and when he'd done it again, during the opening volleys of the war. Like the times he'd been pinned down with that one type of bug plasma cannon that was almost just enough to tear him apart. Like the time he'd called down an orbital strike on his own location and Drax'd had to scrape what was left of him off the battlefield after.

He'd burned so badly then that he'd need a new leg grown by the medicos. He still remembered what the blackened husk of his upper thigh had looked like. He remembered what his own burning flesh smelled like.

This was just agonizing and just as horrible and if he wasn't all sealed up in ring aura, it probably would've had the same smell and now it mattered even less. He fought harder now than any time he'd ever fought during the war, because that had been saving the universe. This was keeping an innocent kid from being dragged off by rage zombies where he might be killed by one of his fellow rage zombies or where Rich might never find him again.

His kid. His not-sidekick. His little buddy.

His fellow Nova.

"Like hell you're going off with them!"

Yeah, burning off his face a little was nowhere near enough to stop him. He directed one of those fine-tuned, focused gravimetric blasts he'd taught Sam how to use -- and how to dodge -- at Sam's head to try to stun him, knowing he was too far gone to dodge it.

Then he tried to get behind him to grab him, hoping to pin him in such a way that he could direct the ragespew at places that were not his face..

"You're officially grounded," he said, struggling to drag him away. "I'm allowed to do that -- I big bro dibsed, remember? Sorry, Sam, your new friends are just a bad influence on you."

[headinjuries]

He couldn't dodge. It never occurred to him to try.

It didn't keep him down for long; Sam was fighting on nothing but reflex and instinct, and those were always the first thing to come back after a hit, before wits. Without wits left to fall back on, his style had gone from the moves and the tactics Rich had been helping him hone to anything that worked.

But it was still enough to give Rich the opening he needed, to get behind Sam and pin his arms.

Sam thrashed wildly, twisting, trying to break free. He tried to turn far enough to nail Rich again with the ragespew, tried to duck his head enough to bite anything he could reach. Brought one foot up behind him to kick Rich hard between the legs. His fighting could hardly be called a style anymore. These weren't the moves of a warrior trying to come out on top; these were the moves of a caged, cornered animal that had no thought beyond getting out. The sounds he was making weren't any better, incoherent snarls that barely sounded like they should be capable of coming from a human being.

[iamresponding]

The sounds made him almost want to cry. Those sounds shouldn't have been coming from a human being and he couldn't stand hearing them come from the same human being that had triumphantly dumped fun-sized candy bars all over his Medbay bed.

He was just a kid.

And that was the problem. He was just a kid and he was a kid Rich cared about so he couldn't really do much against the onslaught of terrified animal attacks. Not without possibly hurting him.

"Sam, stop! Sam, please, c'mon kiddo -- ow, shit!"

It was a bite to his arm and kick and a twist that were all just enough to give Sam the right angle to have access to his face.

[headinjuries]

He didn't hear the pleas, didn't hear the pain.

All Sam heard was an opening, and he opened his mouth and took it.

[iamresponding]

Rich was smart enough to not scream because then he'd have wound up with the scalding blood getting into his mouth and that would've been ten times worse. Instead, he reflexively recoiled, covering his face with his arm and closing his eyes tight. A scream erupted in his throat, but he didn't open his mouth to let it out.

Between that and his helmet blocking off a large portion of his face, it helped a little bit, but he was still left in agony, unable to open his eyes because of the risk of them being burned, unable to open his mouth because the last thing he needed was a burned tongue.

Fortunately for him, Sam didn't have time to burn him to a crisp. The reds were retreating, at Atrocitus' command. A blue Lantern was also zooming in towards Sam and Rich and he threw a shield around Rich, extinguishing the red flames.

[headinjuries]

The retreat was messy; Sam wasn't the only red who seemed more interested in sticking around and continuing their rampage rather than pulling back, although he was probably among the worst behaved. Still, Atrocitus clearly knew how to shepherd his mindless rage-zombies when he needed to, and by the time the flames were out, and Rich had a moment to reorient himself, Sam was gone.

[iamresponding]

The Blue Lantern managed to extinguish the red flames and give Rich some rudimentary healing, but Rich shoved him away before long -- pretty much the moment he could open his eyes without it being agonizing.

He looked around the battlefield desperately for Sam but he was long gone.

The roar of frustration that burst out of him would've been deafening if there'd been atmosphere, but it was lost in the empty void of space. Sam was gone. All he could do was hope that he'd find him again before someone else hurt him.

But if hope was all he had, it'd have to be pried out of his cold, dead fingers.

"I'm not giving up on you, kiddo," he muttered to himself, looking in the direction the last few reds had stargated off in.

Chances were they'd be facing the reds again soon enough, but even if they didn't, even if he had to scour the entire goddamn galaxy to find him, he wasn't abandoning him to that.