And I can guide a missile by satellite

[loves_war]

WHO: The Major and everyone who signed up to fight in the City.
WHERE: Locations across the City.
WHEN: 11 PM Friday evening.
WARNINGS: So. Much. Violence.
SUMMARY: Operation Gotterdammerung has begun, and with it Case Schwarze: a full air and ground assault against the ImPort community designed to prevent interference with the nuke in Washington.

Comments

TURING - halp, Mr. Hundred

[officerslinger]

At 11 at night, Turing is full of guests, and cruising on its nightly pass over the City. The nightclub more or less runs itself; Robyn Slinger defers to the native club manager in everything besides maintaining the airship. She's in her quarters testing connections on a new toy when the missile lock alarm goes off.

It takes her a moment to place it - that alarm has only sounded during staff training drills. The last one was months ago. Then the first impact hits the aft force fields, and the whole gondola shudders, lights dimming. As she rushes towards the bridge, the second impact rocks the zeppelin, sending her slamming into the corridor wall. Patrons are screaming over the thrum of the engines. Reaching the control room, Robyn opens the intercom and barks "This is an emergency evacuation. Proceed calmly to the shuttle bay. Follow all instructions from the airship staff." Please guys, nobody freak out. It's holding. It's holding. She frantically plots a new course, but they're right over the upper west side. It'll take time to

VOICE TO COMM POST

[grenadeball]

"ROBYN! This is Tank. I'm on the ground, and, well, I'm killing a whole lot of nazis."

"Are you alright? Can you get everyone out?"

VOICE TO COMM POST

[officerslinger]

They're targeting power and propulsion-- *crunch*

shit!

Crew's okay, shuttle bay's untouched. They just need another minute--

shit Tank she's wallowing I can't--

HERE I COME TO SAVE THE DAAAAAY

[homomachinis]

He didn't do this shit anymore. He did not do this shit anymore.

But when the Major, some fat fuck of a nazi, started talking about nuclear bombs and mayhem, Mitchell did the only thing he could do in this situation. Like the last time, and his memories were still fresh in his mind of that day, he pulled open a box in his MAC apartment. There were things he'd assembled, familiar, but needed. Sure, he didn't really need them, but it was a comfort in a city filled with superheroes.

He pulled the home-sewn leather out, strapping it on, before the jetpack, neon green gun, and lastly, the helmet.

Fuck he wasn't supposed to be doing this anymore.

He launched into the air, before his eyes caught sight of something very, very bad, the missile arcing and then hitting the Turing, a nightclub high above the city.

"Mother fuck!" he growled, turning his trajectory in that direction.

[officerslinger]

The fourth impact takes out the port engine and tears the outer envelope. Turing sags and the tail drops. Robyn curses and smacks the intercom button again.

"Are they in, Kim? Is everybody in the shuttle chopper? I'm trying to turn head-on so you'll have a clear path out." And in the hope that the front force shield would reform in time before they took another hit. Who the hell was doing this?

The auto-repair systems were already deploying to seal off the leak, fix the envelope. It wasn't going to be enough. The specs had never called for this heavy an assault. Turing was falling.

[homomachinis]

Mitch felt the pit in his stomach drop, a sickness that brought back horrific memories. This had already happened to him, and he wasn't going to let it happen yet again.

"Hurry you you dumb piece of shit!" he cajoled to his jetpack, which accelerated at the command, despite the words. He rocketed through the sky, before he caught sight of another missile arcing towards the nightclub.

"Change trajectory. Go up into the atmosphere before I make you, dickface!" he cried at the missile, green eyes staring at the vapor trail from the smoke, before it launched up higher into the sky and away from the airship.

Breathing a small sigh of relief, he turned his focus onto the airship.

"Broadcast to all channels." he told his radio, and spoke into it without the power of his voice.

"This is M-" he stopped. Did he call himself his real name? Or his alias? This wasn't home, there was no secret identity, but he knew it was going to sound ridiculous using his given name. Nothing for it, but he could perhaps alter it a little bit. "

[officerslinger]

The missile lock alarm stops, and Robyn thanks God. Proximity is still lit, so she checks the viewscreens. A guy in a jetpack? She grabs at the radio handset to answer him.

"Losing lift at--shit, half a ton per second. My transport is is uh, fifteen tons full, we need to get it launched, crew's working that"

"Fuck, the box-- I can't deploy my guys to help lift unless I leave the controls, I need a push out over the river or something. Can you do that?"

[homomachinis]

He rockets into a matching trajectory with the ship, and commands the radio to switch to Robyn's broadcast. The white smoke contrasted with the black smoke that continued to exude from the ship, a single, white streak on the black.

"Don't worry about that, I'll get it somewhere safe! Just get where you need to go."

"Follow me." he told the ship, and started to turn towards the river. The ship started to turn, and he slowed his pack.

[officerslinger]

For a moment Robyn just stares at the instrument panel as the airship noses around like a huge obedient dog, the damaged engines operating past their redline rates. "Holy crap."

Back to the radio. "Okay. Okay. Gonna get the passengers landed, I'll come back once they're all out. Get her down wherever you have to."

Then she's off to the launch bay by way of her quarters. She can't leave the toybox behind.