middleofsomewhere | Blue Team Finale

Honestly, this week hadn't been as bad as it could have been. Her teleport traps had caught MOSTLY infiltrators, and she had apologized very sincerely to the innocent people who'd been caught by accident. And she hadn't been put DIRECTLY in the line of fire once! That had been one of her goals, and between the traps and her communication disks, she definitely felt like she'd contributed. But they were getting desperate now, and abandoning subtlety and skulking around in favor of just launching an open attack.

Samata had been generally setting up a miniature wizard's sanctum in the corner of the mess hall, and so that was where she was right now. Three heavily armored creatures of some kind had her cornered there, hiding behind a dome of magical force she was struggling to hold up as they pounded on it.

She was fiddling with some napkins, for some reason, when she saw another voidtrekker pass by and shouted "HELP WOULD BE APPRECIATED!?" As loud as she could.

One of the enemies, a tall creature with four arms, turned around to see who she was yelling at. I hope you didn't want the element of surprise.

Even without the element of surprise, the creature almost certainly wasn't expecting to get a high velocity soccerball to the face. Conan comes running in after it and redirects the rebounding ball with a kick towards the next creature.

"NO NOT-" You you little kid, she didn't finish saying, before aliens were crashing into each other from wayward sports equipment. This was not the help she was expecting, but she might as well go with it. While they were distracted, Samata crumpled the napkins into balls and stuck them in her ears. Hopefully, the aliens didn't speak her language.

"Cover your ears!" She shouted again, before whispering something a quick series of what sounded like nonsense syllables and bringing her hands together in one big clap. The sound of her hands clapping was magnified fifty fold in a massive explosion of sound which shorted out her shield but also sent everyone else in the room who wasn't ready for it reeling from the shock of it.

In the immediate aftermath of his murder, no one is quite certain what to do about Joscelin Fitzthomas. He is, quite clearly, dead. There is a gaping hole in his chest where the laser bolt shot straight through him, destroying his heart in the process.

He had been right after all: space does kill vampires.

Someone has covered his small corpse with a spare flight suit in lieu of a sheet, but he’s been left where he fell, eyes wide and staring at nothing.

There is no sign of his killer.

Edited 2020-03-25 04:32 (UTC)

There had been a sense of finality hanging in the air since the day had begun.

A calm before the storm.

They were all on edge. Waiting. Breath held. Scanning every shadow, tuned into every sound, knowing something was brewing but not knowing how or when.

Most were not surprised when the the alarms sounded or when the power went out. Emergency lights activated after a brief moment of total darkness. In that moment Gladio had moved to position himself in the center of the long corridor leading to the command center. It was the only way in or out. If the Enemy wanted in, they had to come to him. He wouldn't need to go looking for them.

It had been a hellish week and the last few days were the worst. Gladio hadn't gone unscathed, as had many who had been in the thick of the fighting, though thanks to Ignis and the others the worst of his injuries had been tended to.

Still, as he stood there, massive shield held on one arm and an equally massive Great Sword held in the other, it was clear he hadn't been just sitting around doing nothing. He was, for lack of a better word, a mess. His flight suit had definitely seen better days, to the point he'd eventually ripped the top half and just said to hell with it. There were bandages on his arms, a large one plastered to his back, dirt and blood smudged his face. And yet he stood there, a near feral smirk upon his lips, his focus on the end of the corridor.

The Enemy was here. They were using laser tools to get through the door airlock door they had welded closed. It would buy them a few precious minutes for people to get into position.

Gladio was ready.

The door gave way.

They were coming.

Piccolo was already out in space when the desperate attack began. He had been keeping up with a light patrol when he felt the sudden appearance of new enemies. He had another hour or so worth of air left before he had to head back. That was the downside to needing to breath when one wasn't in a craft designed for space.

But he headed into battle anyway knowing he had limited time to engage. The important part was to keep the enemy out of the base. So he raced to head off the attackers.

The battle lasted longer than expected. The enemy was pressing hard this time. And Piccolo was aware that some ground forces had made it into the base by now.

So the Namekian made a hard choice. He abandoned the space battle to head back into the command center and help defend the people stationed within. He hoped he had contributed enough to the space fighting to make a difference. He had certainly destroyed enough fighters to make a dent in their forces, he thought. Unless they sent more. But he would let the rest of the space fighters handle that.

Now he was inside the base and flying through the corridors. Whenever he met an enemy combatant he punched them and sent them careening with his speed and strength. His goal was to focus on protecting others. Once he found a group of Blue Team or their allied soldiers from the planet they were defending, he would stop and help take out the enemies in that section.

Then he would move onto the next area. He slowly made his way inward, hoping the command center would hold the line even as he made his way there to check on them.

Edited 2020-03-25 19:10 (UTC)

By the time Piccolo made his way through the base, stopping to aid those that needed it along the way, the attack on the command center had already commenced. The Namekian was glad to see that the final hallway was still holding, however, thanks to the efforts of the soldiers there.

And one very large and quite capable Blue Team member with a giant sword and shield. Piccolo hated to admit that he was impressed, but, well, he was impressed.

He dashed straight through the enemy forces, knocking many of them out of the way with impunity, to land in front of the defenders on the other side. ~~If he had had his cape on, it would have looked very heroic.~~ He walked leisurely towards the defenders as if there wasn't a battle raging on behind and around him.

"What'd I miss?" he asked casually. He wasn't expecting to be answered. Instead, he turned on his heel and faced the attackers now that he was on the defending side and readied his stance. Time to help push back the tide of enemy soldiers with his teammate.

Flying guy. Green. Noted.

Gladio was so focused on the battle at hand that he could only barely give those around him attention. Just enough to at least pin them down as friend and not foe so he could avoid slicing them in half.

The Enemy was knocked away, parting like the tide as this guy joined them. Piccolo, his name was, Gladio seemed to remember. Still, even though he'd pushed through, more flooded to join them. These guys were bound and determined to get to the command center, even at the risk of making suicide runs at it. Gladio didn't care. He'd continue to cut them down with the help of the others to get them stopped.

He had just slammed into one with his shield, damn near turning him to a liquid as he caught him between the large shield and the wall beside him. When Piccolo spoke, Gladio spared him a quick glance and a flash of a devil-may-care smirk.

"Just in time." He relied as one idiot ran at him. Gladio dodged, ducked and hit it's midsection with his shoulder and rose, launching him over his shoulder and toward Piccolo to finish off.

That was a nice maneuver and Piccolo moved to take advantage of the thrown enemy. He slammed the soldier into the ground and delivered an additional punch to the face just to make certain the enemy wasn't getting up again anytime soon. Maybe not at all since Piccolo wasn't watching his strength too much. These enemies were on a warpath and though Piccolo no longer aimed to kill his opponents anymore he certainly didn't cry over any that died because they couldn't take what they dished out to others.

The combo move was effective and within these tighter confines than Piccolo usually fought battles it was a good strategy to use. There were a great many enemies to deal with, too, and it made sense to work together. He was used to one-on-one fights but this wasn't so bad either. It was certainly more efficient.

"Good," Piccolo grunted as he punched an enemy that got too close. "Wouldn't want to miss the excitement."

Conan's first response usually would have been to ask why. But in this situation he decides to listen and quickly covers his ears.

He still wasn't prepared for that and the sound explosion sets his ears ringing.

Conan had been on the opposite side of the station when the murder had happened, and so when he comes across Joscelin's body there is a moment of mingled shock and grief. For all the murders he had seen, it had been rare for the victim to be someone he knew.

But he shoves any emotions aside. Emotions were not use when it was logic and deduction that he needed.

The cause of death was simple enough to figure out. But he needed more.

The least he could do was make sure that justice was done.

How Kaito knows something is up is anyone's guess. It's not like he has his trackers, here. But still...

The ICP crackles.

"Yo Detective, what's up?"

The Lionsheart and Quicksilver flashed in Prompto's hands as he got ready for the approaching enemies. He was at Gladio's side, as he always would if he were given half a chance. He was worried about the larger man, particularly given his recent injuries but now wasn't the time to be questioning him.

The door broke open and all too quickly they were swarmed with enemies. His guns fired, taking down someone or disabling their weapon hand with each shot. He stayed close to Gladio as best he could, both to be protective and to be protected. He was skilled, but he wasn't as strong as a number of the soldiers here. That just made him all the more determined to be quick and get out of harm's way so no one had to waste time and energy protecting him.

It was worse at ground zero, but at least she had the improvised ear plugs. She REALLY had to figure out a better self defense spell.

Fortunately it worked. The aliens hadn't taken her words to heart, and so were all dazed and confused from the sonic shockwave. One of them had smoke coming out of the sides of his helmet from the overload of his suit microphones. Samata decided that with them stunned, and her shieldless, now was a good time to run. She darted between them, hoping to put some distance in before they got their bearings again, and made a mental note to start actually goddamn exercising.

She ran past Conan, shouting "I really hope you've got something scarier than a football!"

It was a double edged sword having Prompto at his side.

On one hand he was reassured. Having someone he trusted and knew at his back made him feel one hundred percent safer to do what he needed to do. On the other hand... he couldn't shake the fear of him getting hurt. Gladio didn't care if he got hurt himself. But if Prompto did, he'd never forgive himself.

But he knew he couldn't think like that. It was doing his partner a disservice. Prompto was a good fighter who had proved himself time and time again. Just because they were in a relationship didn't change the fact that the blonde was handy in battle. Gladio just had to get used to the new dynamic. And protect him.

When the door exploded inward and the Enemy entered, beside him the loud sound of gunfire sounded and Gladio took it as his cue to move forward and meet the attack. His sword flashed, sliding through the masses. What wasn't hit with the sword would be slammed by his shield. And what slipped through the cracks were picked off by Prompto and the others from a distance. Prompto kept the bastards off his back so he could fight without worrying that someone was going to sneak up on him. It was perfect.

Gladio just grunted his agreement to that sentiment. Why would anyone want to miss out on the final fight? And it would be the final one. There would be none of the Enemy left of he had their own way. What was happening outside of the station he had no idea, all he could do was trust that people were doing their part and taking down whatever alien ships were out there.

He spun and, with a roar, he slammed his shield into a group of four armoured figures and sent them flying back the way they had came.

It felt like it was never ending.

He ducked down behind his shield as bright coloured bullets flew his way, pinging uselessly off of his shield. Gladio was getting damn sick of those lasers. He'd had a couple hits from them and they hurt like hell. So he focused on the ones with what looked like laser rifles and aimed to getting to them before they managed to take out any of his defenders.

He reclaims the soccerball and chases after her, doing his best to keep up. Having short legs was one of the many things he hated about being this small.

"Find me something better to kick at them and I'll give it a try!" he calls back. He'd had better equipment at home. The fireworks soccerball would be really useful right now. But he hadn't managed to reclaim all of it yet.

So he was just going to have to make use of what he had. At least he had the shoes. His soccerballs had dented steel before with the strength turned all the way up.

Despite heading out when she could to help out other teams who were deeper in the thick of things, Ple Two returned to help cover Blue's duties by the end of the battle.

She wouldn't see the end of the battle, sure, but while they were finishing the fight, the enemy might see them as more vulnerable to an attack from behind than ever.

Before things can even fall apart inside, she's gotten out in a single-seat fighter again - even if she might have less help than ever. "Ple Two out here. Anyone else?"

Prompto was now searching alone for spies. After the run in earlier, he hadn't waited for any other kids to join him. It had been hard enough to see Madoka harmed on his watch- even if he'd been the one to stop it. So he was alone when he rounded a corner, ornate handgun in hand, and froze as he came across this scene.

His eyes widen in horror. "I- is that.. is that one of us?" He asked, unsure how else to say it. He was still too new to know everyone's names or even faces, but their clothes were obvious enough. His heart twisted in his chest as he thought what trauma this must be having on that poor seven year old boy looking so distraught and.. well, okay maybe not as distraught as he should. Huh, he looked almost contemplative instead. "Hey.. was he your friend?"

Conan had already finished determining the cause of death to his satisfaction, and had moved on to searching for clues. He crouches down to check for the advancement of rigor mortis.

"His name is Joscelin," he says aloud. "He was one of the residents on the train. We talked several times before."

Conan was a proponent of the Holmesian school of deduction, and that meant that he had put a lot of effort into developing the skill of separating emotions and personal feelings away from what needed to be done. Because it was far too easy for emotions to interfere with the clarity of deductive thought.

Why was the little kid touching the dead other little kid? That was so weird! Okay, deep breath. This isn't just a random dead body, it's a friend of sorts. One more deep breath.

"What do you think we should do?" He wouldn't normally be looking for direction from someone this young, but the boy had spoken with authority and calm. He put his gun in its holster and approached slowly. "We haven't met yet, I'm Prompto."

"Investigate," He says simply. "This is a murder, and the person who did it is most likely still on this station."

Which made it a challenge. Conan most often came across murders when the criminal was still in the room. Finding the one person on the station who was guilty during an invasion would be a challenge for even his deductive skills. But he had to try.

He nods at the greeting. "Conan Edogawa, Detective."

"Investigate?" That was not at all what he was expecting. It was what adults may have said, but this boy? Really?

The greeting had him getting over some of his hesitation though. "Oh. Are adults on your world small like you?" He asked, unsure how else Conan was doing this. Kids on his world were certainly not this smart and mature.

He looked around the room as if clues would just spring out at him. "What do we know already?"

Prompto had always striven to make the other men proud, or at least see him as competent. He would never be as unshakable as Iggy or brave as Noct or strong as Gladio, but he could hold his own with a gun in his hands. That had originally been enough. However, as the fighting began now, he found that he was pushing himself harder to be faster, sharper, better with Gladio there. It wasn't quite that he felt he had to so much as he wanted to make the man proud.

As the swarm of intruders grew, that goal was getting shaky. Not only that, but Prompto was noticing how little Gladio was watching his own back. Worried about the larger man, he moved closer so he could better cover the Shield.

Abruptly one of the enemies spun around on him and shot a laser beam from a weapon Prompto had thought was a melee weapon. With a surprised cry, the blonde tumbled back out of the way and narrowly avoided getting hit with Gladio's own blade.

Gladio had the utmost trust in Prompto. No one else in the room currently made him feel safer than the man beside him. He knew, without a doubt, that where his sword wasn't a bullet would be. He moved because of that faith, he fought because Prompto was there. For a moment... he forgot.

But he heard the cry a moment before he was turning around. Fear lanced through him, cold and angry toward whatever had made his partner cry out like that. He spun, avoiding Promoto and swung his sword with all his might and let it loose with a roar toward the bastard who had shot at Prompto. In the same movement the shield was gone and he had thrown himself toward the blonde to grab him before he hit the ground.

As he caught Prompto, he heard his sword find it's mark with the screech of tearing metal that meant that the sword had buried itself in the wall of the corridor. Belatedly he hoped that wasn't a bulkhead wall and he had accidentally killed them all by venting them out into space. But his focus was turned toward the man in his arms. One arm, anyway. The other was busy patting him down, checking him for injuries. "Are you hurt? Did he get you?" Gladio asked, voice thick with worry and fear for Prompto.

Gladio's reaction was almost as surprising as the blast as he was patted down. Between the two events, he got mildly disoriented. However, it wasn't too hard to bounce back when he was in the large man's arms.

"No! No, Gladdy, I'm okay." He squirmed with a giggle. "I didn't know that thing was a gun!"

One of the aggressors spotted this scene and advanced on them. The large man's weapon was down and the small one had all of his attention. Charging, he raised his blade.

Prompto's gaze shifted from Gladio's face to movement behind him. He quickly twisted and grabbed the Shield's sword. He barely got it out of the wall and up before the enemy was slashing out. Instead the alien was impaled on the sword, though the momentum was enough to make the marksman stumble back. "By the six! How do you fight with this thing?"

He just needed to confirm for himself that Prompto hadn't been hurt. Though oddly the giggling helped. You didn't giggle if you were mortally wounded so he laid off a bit. It was as he was beginning to pull back that he saw Prompto's eyes widen. The giggling abruptly stopped and the blonde was out of his arms faster than Gladio could thing.

By the time the Shield had managed to turn, Prompto had his sword and one of the Enemy had been skewered onto it. It's weapon dropped from lifeless fingers and Gladio reached up to gently take hold of the hilt of his sword, and the weight.

"I think... you just saved my life." Gladio really tried to temper his expression, he tried to keep it professional (despite having panicked and patted Prompto down for injuries only moments before) but it wasn't working. He looked impressed. He looked damn proud. He looked like he wanted to pin Prompto to the nearest wall and kiss him till his legs gave out.

"Takes practice." He said instead and gently took his sword back and moved to kick the trash off of the end. "Thanks, Prom. You've always had my back... And when this is over I'll thank you properly."

"No, I'm just a kid. But I've solved lots of murder cases."

Conan starts searching the room, starting at the center and moving out.

"He was murdered with a shot to the chest, sometime in the last few hours. Which means the culprit should still be in the area. He was most likely here to sabotage the systems, judging from the condition of the room." A pause as Conan spots something discarded in a dark corner of the room. He pulls a square of cloth from his pocket to inspect it. "And he discarded the weapon before leaving the room."

"Right." Of course, the seven year old was just a kid. A kid who solved lots of murder cases. His head hurt.

He watched curiously as Conan saw something Prompto hadn't and before he knew it, they were looking at the murder weapon. "I've seen several people with that kind of gun around here. Think it's standard for the soldiers?"

"I would have to check the other soldier's weapons to be sure, but its a reasonable hypothesis. The question is whether this can tell anything about the specific soldier who did this."

He carries the weapon into the center of the room, where the light is better, and inspects it in detail.

Prompto would like to think you didn't giggle when you were dying, though maybe that wasn't the such a bad way to die! There were worst ways and that included like almost all of the other options.

It all happened so fast, even if he was the one doing it. He was just glad he was used to fighting enough his body could act even when it left his brain behind. However it happened, he was relieved when Gladio was taking the very heavy sword with the very heavy soldier on it out of his hands.

The praise though, that was unexpected. An excited grin split across his face that only got brighter as he took in Gladio's proud expression. "I did! I've got your back, Big Guy! You can count on me!" He blushed hearing what he had to look forward to. "I'm going to hold you to that!" He wasn't really. Not unless Gladio felt up to it.

He frowned in thought as he wondered what kind of evidence they could get from this specific gun. He was drawing a blank, of course. He didn't know anything about detective work.

"Do these guns use gunpowder or some other residue that might help us?"

The riflemen didn't go unnoticed by Piccolo either. It was easy for him to ignore them as their shots did nothing to him when they hit. The energy they possessed just wasn't high enough to harm him without taking him by surprise. But while he was already in battle his ki kept him shielded, so to speak, from lesser attacks.

However, he was aware that the shots were harming his allies and specifically that Gladio was having to take the time to shield himself from them when they burst fire at him. If the warrior wasn't concerned by them then Piccolo wasn't worried about Gladio getting hurt but it was obviously annoying him to have to take the time away from his own attacks.

"Those are bothersome," he commented idly. But they weren't the only ones that could fire blasts of energy at their enemies. Piccolo didn't hold a blaster in his hand but instead pointed his palm at the offending riflemen. He fired a ki blast at a group of them and watched the resulting explosion blow them off their feet. That should give Gladio enough time to rush the rest and take them out, hopefully.

"Always know I can count on you." Gladio replied. It was the truth. He knew that Prompto had his back. He knew Ignis had his back too. Even Noct. He knew he could run into the heat of a battle because he had friends who would protect him, just as he would protect those around him. It was how they worked so well together. Each of them working with the others strengths and enhancing them, knowing their weaknesses and helping to strengthen them. It was the kind of teamwork that Gladio loved. It was the kind he trusted with his life.

And it was damn hard not to grab Prompto and kiss the hell out of him right there and then. The need was in his eyes as he looked over at the blonde. But he forced himself to look away, he had to resist. At least until later. No matter what, he would get his kiss... He just needed to get rid of these assholes first.

"Aww, you really are a cupcake!" He teases, while his cheeks color with all the praise. It was so sweet. It felt more than he deserved, though he knew Gladio would argue against that thought.

He fired a shot, striking a weapon out of an enemy soldier's hand. His attention went right back to Gladio. "Why is it all the bad guy's are called 'Empire'? Have you noticed that? They're like some kind of Empire of the stars or something. You'd think that would be a good guy name if this was a video game."

This was obviously a very appropriate time to start talking about video games.

"Not a video game." Gladio grunted as he swung his sword to knock one of the bad guys back. He swung hard enough to knock it into several others only for them to be taken out by others on their team. It surprised Gladio for a second because he'd almost forgotten that they weren't there on their own.

The question made him think though. Why were most of the bad guys called 'Empire'? You'd think if you were going to be bad you'd pick a less imposing name to lull people into a false sense of security. By calling yourself an Empire you're pretty much ensuring people will rise up against you.

He shook his head and shot Prompto a look. "Will you quit it with those weird questions? You're making me as bad as you!" There was no heat to his words though, in fact he sounded like he was trying not to laugh at the weird places his thoughts were taking him.

Prompto laughed at Gladio's order. He wasn't trying to distract the other guy, but weird stuff like that always popped in his head. Before he could make any more jokes about it though, the incoming soldiers abruptly double in number, swarming the place. It was much harder to know just where to shoot so he wouldn't strike an ally, so he kept his back to Gladio but had to concentrate.

He hadn't hardly been touched before, but now he was getting shoved, barely keeping ahead of knife cuts and fists. He wondered if a shuttle had managed to land with enemy reinforcements to explain all of this. It didn't really matter though since they were clearly here now.

He muffled a cry when a blade cut at his arm. He was turning to deal with that when he spotted a gun cocked and aimed at Gladio. "No!" He lunged at the soldier, but the gun fired despite his best efforts. He could only hope the mark had been missed as he struggled on the floor with the attacker.

Gladio shut up then. Too many. If it had just been himself and Prompto he had no doubt that they would probably be dead by now. But out the corner of his eye he could see volleys of bullets and energy attacks, he could see their people weaving in and out of the Enemy. But they were definitely outnumbered.

He did his best to shield Prompto from the worst of it, tried to cut them off before they got too close to his lover so that he could pick them off at a distance. That was what his guns were for, after all. He could be at the other end of the corridor, he should have. He should... Gladio's blood ran cold when he heard Prompto's cry and turned to him just in time to see him damn well tackle one of the enemy soldiers. There was a gun shot and Gladio stumbled slightly, over his own damn feet he suspected, but he rightened himself and went barrelling toward Prompto to help him, calling out Prompto's name as he ran.

The other soldier he was fighting with struggled back as they wrestled. Prompto was just coming to the conclusion that this might not have been his smartest plan as he was quickly getting overpowered. He was pinned to the floor and a strong hand went around his neck right as Gladio came thundering back onto the scene- thank the Six he was alive! He could've swooned at the image of his gorgeous bursting through to save him! (Only a third of that was because he'd just been strangled, he swears!) If only his camera had been ready.. sigh.

There was blood, but honestly Prompto couldn't tell all that clearly if it was his, the enemy's, or Gladio's. He didn't exactly see how the soldier got knocked off of him, but he gasped for air and scrambled to get to his feet. With the amount of people around, he was a little impressed he didn't get trampled.

Gladio knocked into the Enemy Soldier with his shield, slamming him into the wall of the corridor with enough force that he had probably shattered more than a few bones. He would not be getting up any time soon.

By the time he turned back to Prompto, the blonde was up on his feet and Gladio moved to make sure he was at his side. "Stick close." He called to him, wishing he could give him more attention but it couldn't be afforded right then. The second he took his eyes off of the Enemy they would flood back in. He needed his focus to be on them. And now... now he was pissed. There was a low growl from the Shield, furious that these bastards would hurt his Prompto... He would make them regret it.

Blue Team Finale

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Murder mystery

Defending the Command Center

OTA - Space Battle or Fighting Inside the Base

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Chocobro has your back!

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