Unwelcome to America

December 11, 2016:

Cyborged Purifiers return to America and receive X-Force's welcome back

Miami Port


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Chip


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

It has been a while since the East Coast cities have suffered the terrorist attacks of the Purifiers. Here and there mutants are still beaten up in dark city corners, sometimes killed, but the armed militias that hit Mutant Town so hard a year ago seem to have left the state. The X-Men Black team and other violent mutant activists killing over a hundred of them might have discouraged them, too. As well as a somewhat harsher stance of the New York police against those racist groups. Some of those arrested are still in jail, isn't that amazing?

In truth hundreds of FoH militiamen retreated to their survival camps and kibbutz-like villages in the southern estates to recruit, retrain and be further indoctrinated in faith of Reverend Stryker and the science of Bolivar Trask. The best and most hate-filled receive expensive bionic augmentation in places like Madripoor and Gamorra. Most of those cyborgs return by ship to the US, since it is too difficult even for their well-connected masters to get them past airport security in America.

Miami port, December 11, 02:34 am.

It would be a very pleasant night if it wasn't raining. But it is raining and the 70 or so degrees are, well, water… annoyingly wet. But it helps because added to already poor lightning of the port it means visibility is crap.

Or maybe it won't help as those cyborgs might have good sensors. That would sure make it more interesting. Perched on the roof of a warehouse, and barely able to see the cargo ship ahead with his eyes, Nate can feel their minds, their impatience. They are waiting for the vans and trucks that will take them to a training camp deep in the swamps. «I sense sixteen, but some might be sleeping or just shielded - not sure if all of them are cyborgs, some might be sailors» he projects to his partner.

Weeks of disappearing is something normal for Ravager, but this time…. Something different occurred. Her mind is still there, despite the emptiness reflected as droplets of the rainfall streak down her facade and glisten in the shadows off the faux lighting illuminated nearby. The hood of her deep green hoody casts enough shadow to keep the single bionic eye the only thing casting luminary in the dark, but more akin to a predator in the jungle with moonlit sonatas reflection.

Ravager's head lowers and both eyes close, the hoody falling from her form in a wet slap to the rooftop as now light can reflect off the scale maille that descends along sides and the brace of swords along arms as they are drawn.

Nate can feel it, Rose might have lifted the static crescendo between them, but amongst the static there is another linked in, no matter how near or far…

Miami is not Barbara Gordon's usual haunt. Far from it. But, unusual business compelled her to actually take a flight down to Florida. She's sitting in her hotel room, using her tablet to look at her network as Oracle, rather than Batgirl (mainly because of the problem of transporting a lot of Batgear via airline), when she notices the link she has to Ravager flashing nearby — relatively speaking. Intrigued, she initiates a contact protocol, and then initiates a secondary protocol to look at just where the mutant is and what's likely going down out there.

Who needs cable, right?

Because of the rain most of the cyborgs remain inside the bridge castle, where they have booze, music and cards. A few of them are outside, though, not caring of the rain or just watching the port for the trucks. They are not looking the right direction to spot either Rose or Nate, but that could change any time.

«Hmm. You aren’t alone?» Asks Nate telepathically. «Is it Chip with you, Rosie?» He hovers higher, to position himself over the ship. Seriously considering just hit it full force from above. He bets most of those borgs are too heavy to swim. But that could maybe kill some semi-innocent sailor. And it is not necessary, he figures. «Ready when you are.»

«A friend…I told the others to hide…» Some things Rose has been ding and snooping on had her spreading her friends and 'sourced far and wide. Chip, C.C., Corben…. They had to go, and Ravager let them know it…

*Insert Flashback Cutscene (The End, The Beginning) here*

When Nate picks upon her passenger with the flicker of her bionic appendage her eyes close and the rain descends from around her scarred facade as well as from the silver lining of hair that frames it all.

No mind, no Net-Link Speak… Both can hear her words in wavelength. "No. Let's not talk of the past." An opening of eyes and the swords silently cut through rain and air and she springs from her perch atop the eave, arms spreading like a harbinger upon bladed wings.

"Now!" And with that synapses Babs is linked to full view from a single ocular while Nate can feel the exact chill before the blow.

Babs glances at the tablet and frowns, recognizing that Ravager is about to go into battle. Against… what? She double-checks the environment feed and purses her lips. A cargoship? Seconds pass — swords doubtlessly swing — and Oracle is tracing the ship to its point of orgin, sifting through a cascade of empty front companies, trying to track down the real cargo… and threat.

"What the hell?"

Nate follows Rose jumping into the ship, and then sliding between the rows of containers, climbing and stalking a pair of men that are heading to the gangway. One of them seems to be texting on a cellphone. Bare from the waist up, he is a big guy with metal plates attached to his torso, and his left hand is completely bionic. His partner is likewise large, but wears a trenchcoat and a cowboy hat.

Nate drops sharply himself, and just as Rose stabs one of the cyborgs on the back, he lands in front of another pair of them. They turn to face him very fast, but barely in time to see the blast of golden light that surges from his left eye. A telekinetic blast that could crush a main battle tank.

A second later there is a loud, wailing noise as an alarm siren activates. Maybe a mutant-detection device. Or someone was watching.

Meanwhile Oracle can skim over the ship records the "Camille" has a Cyprus flag, and supposedly it is coming from Philippines with a cargo of transport equipment, coconuts and copper. Normal stuff. Digging deeper there are federal reports linking the ship to smuggling operations off Madripoor and other Far East wretched hives of scum and villainy. Nothing solid, but the customs inspectors have been watching it for years.

Well, it doesn't take a Bat-genius to figure out that the customs inspectors are both right and way, way off base, given the alarms and battle pitching up on the deck of the ship. Really, the feed from the bionic eye is a dead giveaway. Babs is savvy enough to know Ravager's blow isn't fatal — especially given the hulking cyborgs the girl is facing. That doesn't mean she's entirely happy about it, but not-fatal is not-fatal, so…

"Hang on," she says, attaching a com she always carries with her (it looks a lot like a bluetooth device) to her ear and scrambling to find a pair of suitable jeans and jacket from her suitcase. "Don't kill anyone. I'm coming."

She pulls a hoodie on, jams a hat on her head, and cuts the leg off a pair of stockings before she grabs her keys and, tablet in hand, pelts for the nearest stairwell. Let's hope the insurance on her rental covers Acts of Bat.

The blades pivot out from the bracers along her arms and jam just beneath the arm hinges of the cyborgs….. The only thing that makes it seem so fatal is the fact that running across the deck after her booted landing is the slide that causes small waves beside her knees as she goes low and then lifts up, nearly lifting the hulking 'borg off its "feet" with the impaling that comes on either side of its human governor, then slamming him down with a cast away and a glance to follow that slaps silver hair across scarred facade.

"I make no promises, Bats…. They deserve to die, and this fight has been long in the making!" Ravager is fatal, cut-throat, but she is trying hard…. And has to… has had to… Embrace restraint, especially now… And it shows in the flux of muscle along jawline.

"Company, incoming." Stated to Nate as she bursts from a kneel to the air with a flash of swords that pivot back and in their place pistols come forth and aim for the starboard controls!

The pair of cyborgs scream bloody murder and fall down crippled, although the one in the coat manages to roll to a sitting position. Redundant organs keep him alive, although in a lot of pain, and he pulls a heavy handgun from a shoulder holster and fires it at the silver-haired woman.

Meanwhile the rest of the crew is reacting surprisingly quickly, giving their relaxing state just five seconds away. They rush out of the ship’s castle guns blazing, or blades out in some cases. Form the deck Nate snarls at them, and with a gesture a heavy container, full of copper bars, flies up and then launches towards them. It crashes with a thunderous crunch, but many of the borgs jump out of the way with amazing speed and strength.

It would be a miracle if a few of them have not been crushed into fine paste, though.

Babs keeps half an eye on the feed from Ravager, another half on her GPS (so she knows where she's going) and the other eye on the road. (She's just talented that way. It comes from expecting ambushes by Batman… or his rogues gallery.) So, you know, she'll not necessarily be quick to the fight. But, fortunately, as Oracle, she's pretty good at arranging favorable traffic conditions… and avoiding speed traps.

When she does finally arrive, the tablet is tossed under the seat, the phone is stuffed into her pocket, and the dark nylon gets pulled over her face. Then, the hood is pulled up and the trunk is popped. She grabs the handle from the tire jack in the car. It's the next best thing to a baton. Then, she's off and running, swearing to herself about finding ways to bring gear on airplanes.

She still manages to ascend to a higher vantage point, seeking to understand the lay of the land before she interferes.

"So… who are the technogoons?"

The feed is opened, if Nate accepts there's that static relay between lines not-yet-connected. Oracle can handle her own interferance.

"A subgroup of the Friends of Humanity." A pause, a strain and Ravager is skidding on her side beneath a group, dodging counter-fire that leaves hail-like pellets in her wake before she counter fires in a manner that leaves a fan of sparks and blinding light before them…. Attempting to disable the electical conduits on the ship and cover her ass!

"Purifiers? Right?" Asking Nate but not revealing either paties name until they choose to, to eachother. "Either way. Mutant haters. Mass murderers, all under a guise of human righteousness. A religion of sorts. Lies…." The final word one hissed forth as she is racing forward and attempting to cut down yet another of the tank fronts.

“Yeah, Purifiers,” confirms Nate. Someone shoots a rocket launcher at him, and he chooses to leave his perch instead of raising a shield, jumping down to the floor of the deck as the topmost container explodes. «Psychic static. Someone activated a psymine or something alike. Can’t track them now» he sends to Rose.

Not good, because it is a dark and rainy night and he didn’t bring night-sight gear or anything. He is almost blind for half a minute. He is going to have to look for them, and he is glowy when he is shielding himself. But… that is what Rose is for. They can pile on him and she can ambush and cut them as they come.

Meanwhile Batgirl coincidentally arrives to the dock at the same time half a dozen trucks and vans. About a dozen armed thugs in paramilitary outfits jump off them. “What is going on?” Says one of them. “Someone is attacking the ship!” “Fucking dirty mutants!” “We gotta help the crew!”

Now, see, thugs in paramilitary outfits are a helluva lot easier for Batgirl to deal with than supercyborgs… not that she'd even think of hesitating to face them down. "Tell ya what," she says to Ravager, "I'll keep the paragoon squad off your backs. Just try not to kill anyone, okay?"

A tire jack handle is basically a long metal pipe with a handgrip. Perfect for breaking kneecaps and knocking automatic weapons from heavy-gloved hands.

Babs slides down a pipe and launches herself onto the top of one of the trucks. Then, she leaps off the top of that to end up behind a pair of the nearest thugs. Her metal baton cracks and they go down before the others realize it. "Naw," she tells the rest of the paragoons. "They can take care of themselves. Stay here and dance with me."

No mutant alarms are going to go off where she is, certainly.

Ravager is cover for…. Two? A blink and as Nate gets piled upon she is fast, lightning quick in a manner of speaking as the pistols are snapped back and hands are left gloved/bare, burrowing into crevices with the only ferocity she knows…. Ravaging.

But as fists smash down suddenly there are sticky C4's in place and Nate is wretched from the pile to rest beneath her in a pile self-made as the concussive blast of a lower detonage sends them sliding one direction while they are forced another!

Rising, Ravager smiles lightly, but her eyes show that alive feel before the eye of a pale white goes golden in its glow - a flash and she turns, a bolt firing across the deck from her harness, a pointed arrow catching a crew member and embedding him by his collar to the wall.

"Dirty is relative!" Ravager states as she is suddenly upon the man, pulling the dart from his collar, the heel of her hand seeking to fade his world to black.

"I will try….Promise…" Stated to both.

Well, Nate was having some fun punching cyborgs. Kinda fun. Actually they are pretty quick and when they realize he punches hard enough to crush their metal heads he found himself mostly hitting helpless containers. And taking a large number of high-caliber bullets and cybernetically-enhanced punches and kicks. His forcefield was holding well, but as Rose knows, it has some holes.

So when Rose pulls him out, he lets himself be carried away and… boom! “Nice touch leaving a mine in my place.” He comments. He jumps back to his feet when Rose shoots the dart. Just in time to punch a charging (and smoking) Reaver, sending the burly cyborg overboard.

Meanwhile, and with the warcry “kill the mutie!” The most of the remaining thugs open fire on Batgirl with much enthusiasm and hurry. Most of them have automatic assault rifles. She is a bit too close, but who cares, enough bullets fix anything.

Before a trigger is pulled — 'cause she just knew that was gonna happen — Babs is sliding under a higher-bedded truck and attacking from a flank. Way too close to be bullet fodder, now.

"Hey, stupid! I'm not a mutant!"

Not event a mutie-lover, actually. Just an anti-bigot. But, they won't get that. So, she just keeps swinging, leaping, and spinning. Because she's Batgirl, and that's what she does.

Nate rose and that's all that mattered, kill the mutie a fading sound as he joins his comrade in a throw overboard during the icy rain downpour. Leaving that crascendo on to fade away from Batgirl as the two finally came together, the golden glow of one eye fading back to the pale emptiness that was Ravager. Unconnected to anyone but the woman who was spinning and using her own vital mortality like the rest of them to stay alive aboard the cargo ship.

Tugged from above the mask comes into place the black framing the white, orange the sub-arctic blue while wisps of white are pressed below and cling to her neck. "Keep her safe she fights for us." Not -with- us, but either way their stances come together.

Swords are drawn and pivot in her grip, spiralling just like her own moves, may be a blur, maybe forceful, but either way they have a common goal.

Nate has barely a second to peer into Batgirl’s mind before the half a dozen remaining cyborgs are upon the couple. Some are already missing limbs, but they come full of hate and rage. Blindly charging to the slaughter. Ravager and Scion have fight back to back a hundred times already, and they slaughter the attacking Purifiers with well-practiced efficiency, switching partners gracefully when slicing is better than smashing or vice-versa. Soon the only borgs still moving are the few that decided to run away.

Meanwhile in the dock, Batgirl finds that in the opinion of the Purifiers anyone that attacks them (the heroes of humankind) is obviously an evil mutant. And of course she is a mutant. Some kind of horrible bat-person hybrid in the darkness. She probably has rabies too. Not that the thugs are articulate enough to voice opinions in a logical fashion. Batgirl ducked, avoided the bullets and suddenly she is in the middle of them, punching, elbowing and kicking and although they have some hand-to-hand training, she is too quick and it is too dark for them to coordinate with any effectiveness. A couple of them are even dumb enough to shoot into the melee, and of course they injure their own friends.

Babs isn't really the most psychically aware person out there. And, really, in the midst of a fight with a buncha guys with guns and no brains? She's not going to notice a telepath like Nate slipping into her skull. (Which is probably a good thing, because that would seriously freak her out.) Hell, even on a good day, she might not notice it, given his power levels. So, only a hoodie and dark nylon/makeshift mask to hide her identity, since all her bat gear is still in Gotham, she continues to work on paring down the numbers of the goons. "Anyone ever tell you guys that genocide is illegal?"

Ravager is articulately disabling the borgs, and when Batgirl speaks up about genocide she is peeling a man free of his suit like a banana from it's peel, looking up as sword-backed fingers release the curled metal, her booted foo upon its metal chest, burrowing a hel in in a force that dents the structure.

"Oh… Yeah. I know my rights. It's why I am not in jail…. Yet. I skirt them." A waffly gsture of one hand, paused in the peel and the sword swishes back to its sheath as the hand dives in and seeks to pull the man from the suit and shake him before tossing him to Batgirl's feet while Nate serves her yet another dented and smashed 'borg to fish the body from.

"It's like sardines, really…" Slice, dice, throw! "Taste horrible. Don't get the effort in peeling hem from a can. Like pineapple on pizza." *Heave-wretch* Urk…

"Isms, should be illegal. But who am I to decide?" Wilson's aren’t isms they hate everyone equally.

A second was all Nate got of Batgirl’s mind, maybe enough to recognize it next time he sees her. Then he had to deal with the borgs and mind-reading was impossible. Afterwards he does not bother, since Rose vouches for her.

All in all, about half the borgs survived in different states of dismembering. And shockingly for once Rose was the careful one. The fully human thugs will be fine, a few needing surgery because of busted kneecaps and stray bullet holes. The cops come relatively swift, as port security guards heard the gunfire. But by then the heroes are gone.

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