15610/Shi'ar: Starjammin'

Shi'ar: Starjammin'
Date of Scene:	27 August 2023
Location:	Hyperspace
Synopsis:	Seeking out the Starjammers, the X-Men find them capturing a cargo vessel that turns out to be a trap, loaded with alien bounty hunters called the Sidri. The X-Men join them in battle, defending the Blackbird from Sidri invasion and then helping evacuate the Starjammers from the cargo vessel. A ruse involving the Tampa Bay Buccaneers forshadows familial coincidences.
Cast of Characters:	Gabriel Summers, Scott Summers, Emma Frost, Logan Howlett, Rogue, Tabitha Smith, Ororo Munroe, Lorna Dane
Tinyplot:	Pax Imperium: the Shi'ar

---

Gabriel Summers has posed:
Last Time on X-Men

Some people would really rather stick to Earth problems, but space doesn't always play along.

Princess Xandra - child of Charles Xavier and the Shi'ar Majestrix Lilandra Neramani - has been smuggled at great risk into the care of the mutant half of her family. Ostensibly to keep her far away from possible threats on her life, the implication that Lilandra may not easily win the war with her sister hangs over her presence. As does the news that Deathbird is served by a powerful Earth mutant, one who was involved in the first attack upon the school and the home of Jean Grey.

While a threat is apparent, the route to dealing with it is less clear. Space is big, and the X-Men's experience there is novice at best.

On their last outing, following a tip from Xandra, they visited a space station on the edge of Shi'ar territory. After a few encounters with colorful locals, the team walked away hearing for the second time about an infamous pirate crew, less notable for their hostility to Shi'ar authorities than their EARTHER captain: the Starjammers.

Now

From that first rumor from the Amoeba Girl exotic dancer (don't ask), the X-Men have been tracking rumors and sightings of the Starjammer through the Shi'ar periphery. Presently, the SR-X Blackbird hangs in hyperspace. The rules and strange physics of that extra-dimensional realm are a bit of a mystery, but their coordinates supposedly put along a major commercial hyperlane. A route that is rich with trade, rich with targets. It's a guess.

But it pays off.

"Vessels detected, intersection in realspace estimated at relative coordinates..."

Scott Summers has posed:
"ANY kind of pirates -- space or otherwise -- feels like a really bad idea, on the surface. Like asking to please be robbed, or walk a plank, if we don't have anything to trade or offer to them," Scott brings up, thoughtful. His tone isn't negative, necessarily: he's voicing that he hopes others have something to add to the table to make this less of what appears to be a bad idea. After all, 'pirates' come with pillage, loss of ship, other problems. Is working with another villain going to be helpful to what they are trying to do?

Scott is currently adjacent to the pilot area, but he was taking a break. He's still supposed to be resting -- but that, of course, got shortened via workaholic tendencies.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would muse, "Lovely, we're actually getting somewhere. And will these mysterious /things/ be what we're after or merely another sideshow?" Emma is not the most sociable backseat driver (or pilot) in this case from her position.

She's not even attempting to cast her mind out in hyperspace. Very well aware of just how little is known about it and how much it defies the very concepts of existence. It confounds her in ways that even attempting to strike up an engagement with an entity like the Shadow King or other warped semblances of nohtingness can. She will not risk casting her mind into the infinite void.

"So, should we expect them to be hostile, ambivalent, or uninterested? And I do hope that whatever negotiations will be finished quickly." Even if it means having to fight thier way out. Yes, Emma can with some effort understand alien midns - at least some of them. But it distinctly gave her a headache, having to process thoughts, languages, concepts, mindscapes.. And then translate them over to something the human mind could interpret and also maintain control. Complex, chaotic..

Logan Howlett has posed:
"So," Logan rumbles from his seat, rolling his shoulders against the harness that keeps him from floating around the cabin, "These fellas are pirates, huh? All Robert Louis Stevenson crap aside, in my experience pirates ain't the friendliest folks around."

A faint nod given in Scott's direction, and a grunt to show they're of the same mind for the most part. Surprise.

"We're gonna get a reputation for roamin' the galaxy pickin' fights."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue is not flying.

Rogue is playing a Nintendo Switch. Seated in one of the crew seats behind the pilot chairs, she's even wearing her crash webbing, which she never does. She also notoriously hates video games. Hates space, hates video games, what is she even doing?

Button click, laser gun sound effects, thumb swipes. Her white bangs are brushed smooth and straight as they lay down the right side of her face, over her shoulder encased in the black synth-leather suit she's adorned in.

"Come on, you little... bastards." She says, guiding Samus toward the next goal on her map. "I'm gonna kill every last one of you..." The Belle aggressively mutters, her pink hued lips barely even moving.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
The Ameoba Stripper was pretty nice and the goo had that good grandma hug feel. Sadly Tabby had to eventually clean off and that warm feeling was soon replaced by that dreaded one that happens on any extensive period of travel time.

Space Boredom!

Thankfully she has a phone, a huge backlog of music and video stored. And well, she never really needs to plug a charge cable in. Hell she could probably jumpstart the ship in a pinch.

For now though she's trying to stay occupied while drumming her hands on the helmet of a space suit on her lap. "So hmm, I wonder, if we can't use fishbowls for helmets, can we use the helmets for fishbowls on earth." she considers while she up ends the thing and looks inside. "Put a little diving suit guy, or a spacesuit, little castle, fake seaweed. Bet a little goldfish be right at home!" she beams and considers maybe doing that.

After they get back home, right now the helmet maybe kind of might be needed to attach to the clingy Shi'ar tech spacesuit Tabby is wearing.

Scott's concern gets a hmm sound and a scrunch of her eyebrows behind her yellow tinted oval shaped biker styled glasses. "Maybe they more like a privateer Cyke. Not every pirate ship back home just attacked anything in sight. Just has a preferred target, like Kree, Dominator, Shi'ar..." she pauses and makes an awkward look as her head swivels about all the tech.

"Ummm, I don't think dangling be out the back is gonna work if someone does start shooting photon torpedos at us and stuff. Unless we enter a nebula or something."

Gabriel Summers has posed:
As the Blackbird drops into realspace, they're immediately confronted with an unfolding scene of two ships. Both are quite a bit larger than they are, although this is expected. The Starjammer itself is rumored to be a hijacked Shi'ar warship, and when they see it, they learn that this is no exageration. It's an older-model dreadnought, similar in size to the ships present at the lunar battle several years prior. It boasts a similar quad-wing design, giving it cross-view like an open talon, with a longer central body.

It's prey, comparatively, is even larger, but lacking in such elegant and lethal design. Huge and rectangular, it's the deep space equivalent of an oil tanker. A big, slow target.

The evaluations of pirate behavior don't prove far off, necessarily. When they arrive, the Starjammer is clearly already in the process of whatever space-crime: one of the cargo vessel's engines is burning, and it's motion relative to the pirate cruiser is zero. Their own scanners report no shields on the cargo barge, high metallic content in the transport bays, and just a handful of recognizable biological lifesigns - plus a few mysterious readings the sensors don't know how to interpret. The Starjammer itself is shielded, weapons armed and locked on the other craft.

It's only when the SR-X shows up that anything changes.

"Unidentified vessel: move along. Nothing for you to see here." It's uh, not a standard hail, to be sure, and comes across only through the vague synthesized voice of their translator.

Scott Summers has posed:
Logan gets a point from Scott. Not a snap-point, but a point none the less, as they're on the same page. "Agreed. We do not need to rove around hunting for fights. Being in an unarmed ship, truly a bad plan. True, Tabby: they could be a privateer, best case some kind of Robin Hood situation that dislikes the same targets to us, but... could also be a murderer group."

And then they arrive and the Starjammer is assaulting an unshielded cargo ship. "Looks like option two," Scott observes. Damn. He gets into the sensors, trying to pull more information. "Starting with the barge, I can see... it's a big hauler, lots of automation. A mix of species just on the bridge, including one human. Could be a boarding party from the other ship. I'm not sure about scanning them, if they can tell we're looking, they could get hostile."

Scott looks around, then to Emma, as she's the elder telepath in the group. "Any thought on our best approach here? If you were a pirate. I don't want to assume they will be happy to see us after we've tracked them out here. Can you stall with them a moment on the comm while we see what else we can pick up?"

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would go to take a moment to think and tap her fingers. "I'm picking up a few minds. I can't tell how many. They're somewhat shielded.. Likely due to the distance. I can't pick up much of them.. But they're.." She goes to point over and gesture to what is approximately the cargo hold. "Something from there seems strange." Right where the sensors go to point out that strange reading is.

"I do wonder.. Logan, presuming you were going about seizing such a freighter, how would you go about it? WIth infiltrators?"

Then Emma goes to let out a sigh - why is she the one asked this? "Yes, everything is fine. Just fine. We're merey processing some extraneous data. We had a rather minor haul over that took a few extra decagrams of fuel. We're burning at an extra point two thousandths of a percent more than we should be, so we're tinkering a bit to try and see if we can find where the vapor is. It could just be that there's a slight modulation error in the calibration. We'll have to deguass it." Emma stalls by trying to bore anyone on teh other end.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Now, I'm not the one who knows everything about our personal spaceship," says Logan, leaning forward in his seat to peer out at the warship through the glass and frowning, "But I'm thinkin' we're not equipped to go fightin' that thing."

When the words come through the comms he quirks one beetled brow and shakes his head.

"The intergalactic code for 'we're up to no good'."

Rogue has posed:
It is not until she gets the blaster upgrade that she was after that Rogue looks up from her Switch. She looks to Scott pointing at Logan, Emma, doing Emma things, and Tabitha talking about a fish bowl. "You gotta worry about what chemicals would soak off the helmet inta the fish water, and poison the fish." She states before she slips her Switch in to the bag that was sitting beside her chair.

Leaning forward against her crash webbing, Rogue points at the sensors. "Scott. Use that switch there. Perform a passive scan on the Dreadnought's weapon systems. Find out the pathway in on its weakest coverage area, likely from the aft of the capital ship. We can come in there, attach to the Dreadie's hull with a gravity bond maneuver, then force our way through. I imagine Tabi's plasma could melt a hole for us to get inside, if we're invadin the joint."

Her green eyes glance around at the others, and she sits back in her chair then. "Just ... my suggestion, anyhow." And once more she reaches in to her bag to pull out a little bag of Doritos that she opens up with a little crunchy plastic noise.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Thankfully her earbuds are only kept to one ear when linked to her phone so she actually can try pay more attention to everyone's talky stuff.

The big honking space ship that wants to get them flying away however gets a big wide eyed look from Tabby as she tries to look out the windshield.

"They say that while that ship is out there, giving Luke Skywalker a jelly mood." she ponders looking rather impressed by ship.

The other, senior telepath gets a grin. "Just get on the horn. Compliment him on the ship, engage that same ego that works on guys with fancy cars. I bet he even starts talking jargon about warp drives and stuff." she suggests to Emma and Scott.

There's a look over to Logan and even Rogue. Thankfully Tabby is not wearing a blue catsuit, just yellow. So she doesn't completely resemble Samus Aran. "Wait, do we wanna jack that ship like we ballas? Kinda dick move right now. How we know they don't have teleporters? Beam our asses into space." she voices a tactical concern while making a self choking gesture and sound.

Kech!

"I'd need an extra airtank. Not enough gas outside to get ma plasma cutter on." they did kind of have to remind her to not boom on board as it is.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
Ororo enters the bridge from the aft of the ship. Wearing a black and white jumpsuit with a cape attached to each wrist, she's dressed for things to Go Wrong in a hurry. Unlike the others, she at least doesn't need to worry too much about environmental sleeves or fresh air. Her hair's tucked up high with a few bands to keep it out of her face.

She listens to the discussion and without comment, moves over to the sensors to start fiddling with the controls. Electronics aren't Ororo's strongest suite, but the operating system on the Blackbird is pretty user-friendly. "Scan initiated," she announces for the benefit of the others.

Gabriel Summers has posed:
Emma's message back is weird enough to warrant a reply. In person, apparently. The vidscreen pops on, showing a female humanoid with pointed ears and pale white skin? No, it's very fine fur. Is this the cat, no wait, skunk-girl? There's a flitting of a black-and-white tail-tip behind her head.

"Uh.... what? If you're here for a refuel, the gas station is -closed-. I suggest you try the next hyperjunction."

Their sensors will report a weapon shifting it's lock to them, although notably, it's a smaller gun, a stand-off interceptor, not one of their big-hecking cannons. It demonstrates an attempt to intimidate, rather than simply blowing them to dust. Which may be relevant to those currently pondering morality.

At the same time, things are happening down below. Several of the team are playing with different sensor data now, as there are additional stations back from the cockpit. Between Emma's telepathy and the scans, the basic scene isn't too hard to figure out: the human and two un-similar aliens (presumably the Starjammer crew) have boarded the bridge, which is inhabited by a few aliens, all of another species. Presumably, they're making demands, doing pirate things.

BLEEP!

A different scanner reports locks disengaging on the back of the hauler, bays opening and releasing its cargo pods into space. Presumably, this is them 'surrendering,' dumping their goods. The Starjammer moves closer. Ororo registers a tractor beam, no doubt to gather up said ill-gotten gains.

But the telepaths and normal sensors alike get a stronger sense of... whatever that odd reading is, as the cargo floats free of the hauler's thicker hull, and soon, up toward the Starjammer.

Scott Summers has posed:
"Yeah. We're witnessing... possibly blackmail and theft," Scott mutters, in displeasure. Pirates seem to be stealing. But he's also aware they are in no position to be doing much of anything about it. "But yes, our information is more important----" Scott is staring at Emma's interesting choice of stall tactic. Bore them to disinterest?

"--Rogue, I appreciate the tactics idea, will keep it as a possible idea if talking fails-- but I'd still prefer diplomacy, since opening up communications would be a lot better than trying to intimidate information out of them." Deep breath. "That said, I'm unsure how to salvage this now, other than to... I don't know, thank them for directions for the refueling, say we're from earth, and brought beer." Scott's not being serious, though his deadpan tone could be read other ways.

Scott does move, then, to get back into the pilot seat, to prepare for what also could be the worst, since there's a weapon pointed at them. "This could go badly quickly, seatbelts." Dad voice.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would furrow her brows in thought. "It's something alive, but I can't tell much more than that. Either it's so well shielded that I can't glean sufficient information, or it's so alien that I can't grasp it's thoughts." And since Emma has been able to with significant effort make some headway wiht the Brood, this implies that it might be mroe alien than the space cockroaches.

"Well, the best way to establish diplomacy is face to face, away from this vacuum and these weapons." Emma goes to now that they have some level of attention given..

"I can get them /talking/ to us but it will mean that they think we're a bigger threat or target than we are and likely them get aggressive as a result." She warns, but doesn't do anything.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"As weird as it is to be agreein' with Slim on every little thing, the boy's got a point. Let's not start thinkin' about how we're gonna beat this thing. Last thing we want is these guys to see us hesitate and decide we're more trouble than we're worth. I'm not about to test how well I heal in space."

As if to emphasize his point, Logan pushes the button on his suit that seals the helmet down over his head. He scowls behind the transparent faceplate, shifting irritably in his seat.

"Let's just get ourselves over there. Slim, someone, tell 'em we're part a the ... uh ... " the Canuck pauses a moment, thinking over fake names for space pirate crews, "Arcturan Raiders. Tell 'em we wanna go halves on a score that'll set us up for life. And for Christ sake, muss up your hair or somethin' and stop lookin' like teenagers for two seconds."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue sits back in her chair behind the pilot's seat. She nods her head softly to what Scott says as she pulls out a triangular shaped chip. Crunch.

Her eyes go back over to Logan then, who seems to make a suggestion that rings with some possibility, and when Scott settles back in to the Captain's seat, Rogue dusts her fingers off with little flicks, then shakes her head.

"How did I get talked in to this again?" She mutters, her eyes dropping down to her chips bag.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
There's a peek over Emma's shoulder at the mostly white furred woman. "Huh, pretty, kinda wanna give her a tummy rub. Woof!" she says playfully. Whether it get's heard over any return comms is a different matter.

Scott gets a grin as she looks back over her own shoulder. "Hey, we totally didn't see crap. I mean, who they rolling on anyway. Don't see now space orphanages or women's shelters. So if they crimning then probably they have it coming. Ain't like we never swiped anything from bad guys. Half the expensive booze in the X-Lounge came from racist liquor stores. " she points out.

"If we gotta fight. Umm, how hard can we like crank life support to produce breathable air?"

Names get a hmm, Pirate Names. "We're the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. If there's humans on board maybe they'll catch the sportsball reference or like Florida Mans. Good naming can be the start of any con, and that's as good as diplomacy sometimes. Or the start." she points out.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
Ororo sits down primly in her assigned chair and dutifully puts the shoulder restraints in place. The air around her seems to warp slightly as she starts condensing extra oxygen into her personal space. For her it's as easy as breathing itself-- and Ororo doesn't need to respirate much at all, to boot.

"I can form an air tunnel between us and the ship," Ororo promises the others. "I'll also prevent it from venting into space. Just get us as close as possible so the atmosphere isn't overly thin. I can be much more useful once we're on the other ship, too-- their hull is in the way at the moment, but if someone can slice me an entrance.." she looks at Logan and flashes an encouraging smile.

Scott Summers has posed:
"All right. We'll have to venture a little to gain anything. I'll give it a shot. If this turns bad, I'll get us in close for a--personal resolution. But I hope for better." Scott looks cool, calm about it. No problem. If he's tense, well -- the telepaths can be the ones to pick THAT up, but hopefully not the pirates they are talking to. Scott lifts a hand in a very X-men tactics 'HOLD' motion. He uses it a LOT in training sessions. "Ororo, Logan -- you'll be in the background of this visual." Based on where his chair is and where he's turning on the visual port. Be prepared to not pick your noses.

Scott doesn't muss his hair up. He probably forgot. There's a lot to prepare other than hairstyle. And then he hits the comm, and turns on his visual. It's only proper, to return skunk-girl's with another visual. "Look, I'll be straight with you. This is Scott, with the -- Tampa Bay Buccaneers. We /do/ need refueling, but we've heard about you, and lingered out of curiosity. We have a job that's a bit too big for just us. We come in peace. I can see you're busy, though."

Gabriel Summers has posed:
"The who?" the skunk-lady continues to look weirdly confused by basically everything they say. Refueling? What's a Tampa? None of it computes. The question is, does it sound like made-up bullshit, or shady double-speak? Like painfully childish deception, or... alien oddities and translation discrepencies. One means the jig is up, the other is probably not uncommon in space.

Maybe they luck out with their bluff. For a moment, the woman can't quite decide if these are people worth blowing to bits, and she usually doesn't prefer to do it for NO reason. However, there's a bit of a caveat to her judgment: "Whoever you are, that decision belongs to the captain. Give moment. Captain, there is a man here, he says he is from-"

In the time that they're talking, the Blackbird is able to make its way closer. The gun stays on them, but it doesn't fire. As they approach nearer the ship's docking bay, they find themselves alongside the course of the cargo being tractor'd up from the hauler. The containers float serenly serenely through the void. At a distance, no one would notice what was happening, but the X-Men are very close.

There is... movement.

More latches unlock, this time on the containers themselves, letting their lids separate and float freely. And from inside... darkness pours out. Not in some kind of metaphorical, mystical, or existential sense. It's very literal. Patches of shadow seem to ooze out of the containers, and then start stretching outward, flattening, clinging to the big pods as they're pulled in.

On the Blackbird, the video-call suddenly becomes three way. Joining skunk-lady is a human face. Immediately, despite the jaunty blue bandana and the very out-of-date facial hair, there is something familiar in it. His brown hair IS tussled. In the background, a big green alien and a cyborg with a red topknot are holding weapons on a few squat grey aliens. But there's no sign of anyone actually being injured.

"What kind of nonsense- Hep, did you say TAMPA?"

"Yes K'ris, they say they are-"

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan keeps his head tilted to the side as he listens to the conversation over the comms system. The suit, by necessity, dampens a lot of his senses. It wouldn't be a problem for those with normal senses, but for Logan it's like having vaseline over his eyes and cotton wool in his ears.

When Scott announces their 'crew name' he shakes his head and rolls his eyes. The material of his gloves creaks as he squeezes his hands into fists. He mutters, though he thankfully has the mic dialled in to not be heard over the broadcast to the pirate vessel.

"Stupid ass."

Of course, to the pirates watching on the other end, he just looks like a squat and hairy guy in a spacesuit with a sneering snarl on his face. Whatever's going through his head is mercifully muted by the interference of his adamantium skull. Yo ho ho. Or something. Then the human face appears on screen and he sighs audibly.

"Slim, that don't look like any alien goo-gah I ever saw and I've been to Mos Eisley or whatever that station was called. Start ad libbin'."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue isn't looking at the transmission hologram when she hears the word 'skunk' being mentioned in relation to someone. Her eyes instantly narrow...

It is then that she does finally look, but when she sees it wasn't in reference of what she thought it might be, she relaxes a bit more.

Slow chip crunch...

She just closely listens, and watches over Scott's shoulder.

Emma Frost has posed:
Lovely, it's sentient darkness. Emma /still/ can't get a bead on it. She would glance over at Scott for a moment and then try to glean more things from it and hisses. "It's a many thinking as.." That's murmured over to herself before she moves to shift over to diamond form and goes to speak casually in French.

"Some kind of hive mind is my best guess. Something beyond my experience. I'm not even sure /what/ it is or how it's thinking. It's definitely sentient.. But on a scale that I can't make a connection with." Staying in diamond form. This ride could get rather bumpy.

"I do suggest that you try and see if you can cast magic missile at it." Apparently Emma was a third edition fan.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Having to hunker back to stay out of Camera view gets an amused chuckle as Scott makes plans and gets the X-Balla's rolling.

The Tampa NFL team being used gets a stifled gigglesnort. It was an ass pull but sometimes getting a message across that friendly humans needs something a little out there.

Even if Tabby is a Washington Commanders fan herself.

From the best vantage point of outside she can manage, Tabby lifts her tinted lenses and squints to try and see better. <<Is it just me or is it getting darker out there. Anyone install a spotlight on this bird. I mean, I don't think we wanna get any of that stuff on us, Or the ship.>> Trying to kinda not be a vocal presence just in case she sends over a mind link.

Of course Emma being in Diamond form cuts her off from the link.

This gets her looking pretty dismayed. "Ugh, I gotta go out there don't I boss?" Tabby says with much dismay as she grabs her future fishtank helmet and starts pressurizing her suit. "Crank that lifesupport, between Storm being windy and forcefields I might be able to get a few good flares going." she states and with a look that totally says this is probably going to suck. "If they like complain, it's like straight obvs this was gonna happen without us being here." as she heads for the back end and an airlock to brighten the sky a little.

Scott Summers has posed:
In for a penny, in for a pound. The human face trips Scott up. Logan's suggestion rides through -- Scott ad libs, accepting the support, such as it is, from the team. ...While he continues to glide the craft on in, to where they'll be able to act if they need to. Though this chatter might be making it worse. Hopefully not...

"Tampa Bay, yes," Scott's deadpan style is hopefully aiding here. Scott is good at being just DEAD SERIOUS. Nothing is funny. "A reference to something from our home, inspiration. That's all." Football knowledge has a use in space, who knew. Scott pushes up his glasses a little; see, red like the team. Inspired!

Fly casual indeed. They're getting WAY too close.

Gabriel Summers has posed:
As the X-Men scramble, Hepzibah also finally sees something on the scanner, interrupting herself in the conversation with an exclaimation that goes untranslated by the computer. They may have just learned an alien swear-word.

The gun trained on them powers up, an opens fire.

But not AT them. Amidst the cargo stream, they're also in the middle of the strange alien swarm, and them? Them she shoots first, asks questions... well, never. Fortunately, as it turns out, Hepzibah is a very good shot, and the Blackbird doesn't immediately catch any friendly fire.

"Sidri! It's the Sidri!" she shouts on the multi-way video call. "They were hiding in the containers!"

"Ah hell." Notably, there's no translation happening, now. They're speaking English, instead of what might have been sector-standard Shi'ar before. "This whole thing must've been a trap."

Behind the pirate leader, one of the grey aliens gives a little smirk of smug satisfaction. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up little man." Corsair levels his weapon and shoots...

...the controls behind. "Hep! Get us back up! Pronto!"

Outside, around the Blackbird, more of the aliens emerge from the containers. Emma's evaluation isn't strictly accurate. They're not something so esoteric. They're just... well, apparently very light-absorbant. But the creatures, visible at times more in the subtractive sense as they cover up a patch of stars or one of the containers, are certainly physical beings. They have the vague shape of manta rays, and as they shift and emerge, clearly a number of small legs on their undersides. And then, finally, as they move into action, a flash of color: wedges of glowing red at the center of each. Eyes? Weapons?

It turns out, maybe both.

Several of the large 'Sidri' move ahead of the blackbird toward the Starjammer, and indeed fire intense energy beams from those central organs, whatever they are. The stranger thing happens as the ship returns fire: when one of the large forms is struck, it breaks apart into what looks to be... a dozen smaller versions of the creature, although these have a greater ratio of leg to body, looking more like spiders. The Blackbird passes through the cloud of them, and they can hear them clamp on even before the warning sensors go off.

"Unauthorized presences on hull."

Scott Summers has posed:
"Pulling into evasion here, so we don't collect more. Let me know what you need from me otherwise -- get them off us!" Scott says, quickly, forced to veer the craft at first, but levels as much as possible so the team can physically rally!

Ororo Munroe has posed:
Ororo's eyes film over and go utterly white as the cargo pods start erupting and the creatures skitter out into the space between the craft. "I'll need to step outside," she tells Scott, and gets to her feet. "Don't forget to pick me up if we all decide discretion is the better part of valour."

She walks to the hatchway, palms the override release, and sets her shoulders to twist the handle and pop it open. The door slides open, revealing the starfield outside-- and not a lick of oxygen goes flowing out into the void. Ororo steps out of the vessel and soars away from the Blackbird, forming a pressure column around her so that the others can follow suite. "I cannot create any static while our shields are up, but I can at least give us a place to stand," she bids the rest of the team.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
There's a few hisses and clicks as all those seals and clasps that keep Tabby's air inside her suit, or at least the helmet. The trick is getting her powers out but there's enough metal here and there contacting bare skin.

The trudge down the length of the Space Blackbird given that slow motion power walk minus the inspirational rock anthem. And the fact that it loses some of it's impact when no one else is moving in slow motion.

Once at the airlock the blonde with most of her hair probably uncomfortably taking up most of the space she looks back at the others. "Okay crank that life support and like keep pumping air in and out let all the fun forcefields keep you guys breathing in here. Imma scrap bugs of the windshield. If I fall off, like text Illyana, get her to scry my butt and portal it home." she half jokes.

It would kinda suck to get stranded in space.

But those alien thingies on the hull kinda maybe probably don't have the best intentions for the X-Men.

So with all that attempted coordination.

It's spacewalk time, spacewalk time.

Plasma generated and gathered at the ready. As much for light as it is ordnance. "

Rogue has posed:
Rogue is seated with her back straight up in her chair. Her hands come up to the clasps of the crash webbing over her torso, and her green eyes are scanning over the others in the ship around her. She does glance upward when sounds begin to reverberate through the ship's hull, which draws a sigh out from between her dusky red hued lips. "Come on. We have to go out there?" She questions with clear annoyance on her tone. Her clasps come undone, the webbing harness snapping back in to the chair she occupied. "I was just startin' to get comfortable bein' this close to space, and now..." But she trails off. There is no use complaining, she knows it. There's no time either, if they're under attack.

She reaches down beside her bag, and gathers up her space helmet. It's pulled up over her head as she rises from her chair.

More muttering comes from her, as she marches toward the back of the ship where the hatch resides. She learned on the X-Bird's first journey how to operate the mag-seal on the hatch, so she's ready to activate it to get out in to the cold blackness beyond.

Her helmet seals with a hiss of oxygen, her visor light comes on, and she pauses to reach for a locker in the back of the jet's interior.

Pulling the door open, Rogue retrieves a set of stun shock batons that were stowed in a selection of melee weapons. She doesn't have a lot of experience with these things, but she doesn't want her gloves getting torn open out there either...

More muttering, the hatch opening, and Rogue stepping out in to space. At least she can control her own gravitational pull.

Soon she's attaching mag-boots to the exterior of the X-Bird, her stun batons lighting up in either hand as she starts marching with determination toward the enemies trying to hitch a ride on their ship!

Scott Summers has posed:
"Getting a little distance here, so we fight the ones we have without getting lots more--- watch yourselves," Scott warns through the communication system. The ship does do some fancy manuevers -- a disorienting spin if anyone were outside -- but he did it before anyone stepped out. The idea was to make the ship a harder target to climb onto.

Once they've started to actually go out the airlocks, Scott steadies out, into a more fluid rotation, to pivot out sideways around the other huge ship pair -- in a motion similar to if they were orbiting them sideways. Scott is mostly keeping the sensors going, to get any information he can about this foe to the team.

But also to keep track of what the pirate group is doing, to some degree. "You wouldn't be offended if we destroyed some of these, I hope?" Scott questions mildly of the Starjammer.

Lorna Dane has posed:
    A bulky space suit glove reaches across to try and pinch at some the of space-age material but the rounded fingers prevent any true pinching. "I almost want to be offended that my suit is green. This is ... colorist." Lorna says, frowning at looking down towards her buckles, thankful the harness wasn't too hard on her body.

"Careful out there you two." Lorna says as she starts to unbuckle and reach onto the top of her chair and takes the globe like helmet off to then attach it to the backpack of her suit. Just in case. "Hey, I could..." Lorna starts to chime in, but bites her tongue as she slowly bounds through the ship so she can look out the nearest, even if it's the only, window. The woman with the green hair is actively wringing her fingers, a nervous tick.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan isn't a great fan of space either, though he's perhaps not as vocally unhappy with it as a certain Southern Belle. The notion of potentially floating away and being able to survive longer than most anyone else just tumbling through the inky void does not exactly fill him with joy.

His eyes dart for a moment to Lorna speaking about the color of her suit, and then to Tabby getting ready to climb out of the ship.

"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad," the Canuck mutters to himself before drawing the helmet of his spacesuit over his head and making a seal.

"Try not to burn me up while you're at it out there," Logan's voice hisses through the comms, "I might heal the burns and zaps, but I still need air so I gotta keep this monkey suit in one piece."

He pops his claws, testing the sealed valves that allow them to come through without opening a hole into his own personal atmosphere.

"Let's cook."

Gabriel Summers has posed:
The Sidri (whoever they are - someone give Rogue a space dictionary!) aren't here for the X-Men, and their presence in the middle of the battle is incidental: most of their number, in their larger 'Manta'-like conjoined forms, focus on the Starjammer. When combined in that fashion they seem to be as powerful as a space ship of the same size, moving through space via unknown propulsion and using their central eyes like massive energy cannons: severa fire blasts, raking across the underside of the large cruiser. It's shields hold against the initial attacks, but it's clear from sensor readings that they won't indefinitely.

The Blackbird, meanwhile, has acquired a number of hitchhikers in the form of the separated, individual Sidri. The smallest are maybe as big as a large dog, with crab or spider-like legs and the same red central eye, albeit appropriately downscaled. Some are larger than this, although it's unclear if these are colonies of several smaller ones or larger individuals. Regardless, scattered across the surface, they scurry along, scouring the hull, almost as if searching. For power sources? For entrances?

Well, Tabitha is kind of both!

As first one and then two X-Women emerge, the Sidri bob up and down slightly, regarding the new arrivals. There is a sense of curiousity in it, appearance-wise, although this may be misguided anthropomorphism: these things are obviously very, very alien. Also, they reveal themselves to be fairly not-friendly when several of them fire scaled-down versions of those energy blasts at the two! At the same time, several others skitter to various positions (including around to the far side of the hull, out of sight!) before looking downward and directing the same eyebeams into the hull. These are precise and focused, almost like cutting lasers.

That's probably bad!

The human pirate leader, who is still visible on the Blackbird dashboard, with its splitscreen display of the three-way call between his boarding party, the Starjammer, and the Blackbird, answers Scott as if in an echo of what is happening out on the hull of the Blackbird. "Mind? Go nuts, kid! Sidri are bad news. Work as bounty hunters. We may be the marks, but I don't think you'll get off easy at this point!" On the other window, Hepzibah's attenion seems mostly on the controls, as she returns fire. But even that doesn't seem the main focus of her attention. "Bah! K'ris! I cannot achieve transportation lock. Some interference on the hauler, it was not there before!"

As if in tandem with this realization, one of the 'Manta' Sidri turns from the debris field of cargo containers and sets course back toward the ship that originally carried it!

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Walking on a hull with mag boots is not the easiest thing to do. Especially when you have to get out of the ship first and then turn them on when you're pointed at the right direction. The exit is easy enough, the outer hatch opens and a woosh as Tabby grabs a handle and swings out up and over.

There's also the whole mess it does for one's equilibrium. It kinda feels karmic for the weight taken off her chest.

There is also the fact that she finds herself staring at a weird looking alien bug thing. That's firing a beam of energy at her. Or trying to eat her, she can't tell.

There may also be a brood flashback. Which gets a sense of rage from the blonde and a stream of plasma from that ball she generated inside, snaking about with psionic control towards what looks like an eyeball.

"Oh HELL NAH!" she yells through the comms as she holds the rest of the plasma ball in front of her like it's a battery for the stream pushing out from it with with plenty of heat and force, like mixing a flamethrower with a shotgun. Hopefully it should be a good shove as much as a test. That armor looked pretty sturdy.

Clearly being careful to not accidentally blow up chunks of Blackbird hull. "Get off, this is our ride home!"

Rogue has posed:
Out on the hull of the X-Bird, Rogue takes a moment to try and orientate herself to this. It is beautiful, in a terrifying sort of way, and even with her hatred of being away from her terrestial home turf, she has to admit at least that much. But there is no time to really settle in as long as she'd need to, because those 'things' are crawling toward them, and some seem to have powers not unlike Scott's mutation?

"Of course space has crabs. Of course it does..." She quietly mutters through the filtered comms of their shared communication array. "Okay, I'll try to keep them off of you ranged folks." Rogue then says in a more business-fashioned attitude, her eyes sticking to the surface of the X-Bird and not on the vastness of space beyond.

When the creatures come, she raises those batons up in the air, and begins to swipe and strike! Every time her batons catch with one of the creatures, a burst of silent bright energy erupts around them, sending a burst of purple light across Rogue's body in her black form-fit space suit! She starts to dart around more quickly now, using her own flight power to help push her faster than the low-gravity environment of space would normally allow, and the longer she is out here the more natural she starts to move as a balance of how hard she needs to push herself starts to get figured out.

Of course, the enemy laser weapons are a big concern, and Rogue is quick to start to duck, turn and dodge incoming shots.

She's primarily sticking close to Logan at the present, defending him so he can do his own counter attacks!

Scott Summers has posed:
"So they're bounty hunters -- for you, I gather, but it looks like we're in this together at the moment," Scott answers, managing not to react to being called 'kid' by a stranger. The man does look a lot older, old enough to be his dad, haha, so that can slide for the elderly. And if this situation can create a 'common enemy', great.

"Anything we should know about them? Such as a weakness?" Scott asks. He's trying to still get a feel for this pirate group, and if they're going to be cooperative with them. If they're hostile, this may be better to simply get out of there entirely instead of taking on the problems of pirates that are actively stealing and having what might be karma coming for them. Karma-sized space crabs.

Scott so far is mostly keeping the ship moving, evading drawing more critters than the team can handle: which right now is a strict number until he's seen more of how well the team's weapons and powers work on these creatures.

Lorna Dane has posed:
    Crap crap crap! Lorna tells herself as she watches Tabby lift her hands up to shoot fireballs and Lorna instinctively reaches out with her ferrokinesis and forces Tabby's suit to brace against her back. So the girl doesn't end up tumbling through space end over end.

    "Newton rules out here folks. Don't forget!" Lorna says, turning her head to look at Scott with a frown, "Do you want me out there fighting too? Or should I stay and help repel from within?" Lorna asks, literally meaning repel. "Lasers!?" The queen asks with surprise and shock. "That's just not fair."

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Mottomo surudoi ha wa," Logan murmurs to himself, eyes closed for the moment as he steadies his breathing, "Nasakebukai kokoro de furikazasa reru."

Satisfied with whatever silent deal or prayer he's made, he steps out into the emptiness of space. He's not had a lot of training in zero gravity, but it already brings to mind underwater training from his days as part of Team X. The principle remains the same.

He sticks close to the hull, bounding across it with magnetized boots. His own efforts are violent but more discriminate. He doesn't know how these creatures work on a physiological level, but he makes his assumptions. Claws hiss through the air at protruding limbs, while the other hand grasps and heaves to throw the nasty critters back out towards the void.

Logan reflexively leans away from the bursts of super-heated plasma, lip curling behind the faceplate of his suit as he wrestles with one of the manta-like creatures.

"Jeezum crow ... "

Gabriel Summers has posed:
Tabitha's plasma ball-slash-flamethrower definitely has an impact, and it demonstrates some elements of the Sidri physiology. A human might blister, burn, sizzle, char, blacken, and ultimately be cooked down to calcium and carbon. But these things don't really go through those phases. They're fine... until they're not, enduring the heat until it finally loses cohesion and kind of melts down to black gel.

Gross? Or oddly more sterile, than typical biological damage.

In a similar fashion, the stun-jolts from Rogue's batons don't really seem to stop the creatures, failing to meet whatever that threshold it was that Tabitha crossed. But, well, they're also still physical impacts, from a lady who is a few tiers past simply 'strong.' They're not immune to the laws of physics, it seems, so she can easily, even rapidly send them flying from the ship like that. And the smallest floating Sidri, notably, don't seem to be able to propel themselves in the way that the combined 'ship' ones do. So, well, just a bunch of floating spiders, wriggling their legs, until one of the big ones comes to get them. It works!

"Hired by the feather-heads," ah, casual space racism! "But yeah, for us," Corsair confirms on the comms. On the more useful side, when asked about their weaknesses?

"Sure do. By themselves they're just kind of creepy-crawly pests, but see the way they uh, join up? That's when they get dangerous. It's not easy to separate them, but enough energy will do it. We scatter 'em, and it'll take them a while to get the swarms back together. We can be long gone by then." In fact, they've seen a version of this happening, as the Starjammer's guns hit one of the larger formations, scattering it into the smaller ones that ended up on the Blackbird.

In less good news? "Might not help -us- down here, though. My helmswoman says she can't get a lock and they're gonna swarm the place. Any chance you give us a lift?"

Outside, Logan discovers that a physical law he knows on Earth seems to hold true here: his claws go through anything. That includes a Sidri's 'shell' (or whole body? whatever it is), although hitting them is more like hitting Colossus: he can feel resistance, not the hot-knife through butter ease of flesh or lesser metal. Chopping away their limbs proves easiest, and fairly effective in dislodging their grip on the ship. Those he gets in the center body have their red 'eyes' dim. Who knows what death even is for these things.

All in all, the effort to clear them away slowly finds results. But there's a lot of them, and the relative inexperience of the X-Men in such environments does slow them. One or two keep 'cutting' for a few moments too long, before Rogue can bat them into orbit or Logan can cut away their grip.

Inside, Scott sees the warning light: LIFE SUPPORT FAILING. Well, the crabs aren't playing around, that's for sure.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
The good thing about using streams instead of just straight bombs is the finer control while still keeping heat and force levels. Which is handy for not scorching her friends while she blasts away. That ability to change directions in mid air.

Handy for the Sidri scuttling her way where she's braced and shielded against things like her own recoil or the force of any blasts directed at her.

Benefits of having Queens among your BFF.

When she sees the things melting, just like burned butter, over the mind link, maintained by Emma on the ship. There's a sense of maybe way too much pyromaniacal glee.

"Oh my god YES!" she yells and with the benefits of a mistress of magnetism keeping her in place and a mistress of elements funneling more air around the outer hull, starts charging herself up.

That's gotta use a lot of what passes for gas for the Space Blackbird to keep that life support going. With the others doing their best to dislodge the ones on their ship. Tabby starts sending more plasma in streams to as many of the 'smaller' ones as she can like clay pigeons. A look to the big one. The one taking a shot at the Starjamer. That gets Tabitha hmming. <<Hey, I got an idea! These things seem to like really not like me. How about we like give the big thing a really big boom! Cyke, how ya feel about buzzing the tower mid drive-by?>>

Rogue has posed:
'There's too many of theml" Is a thought that continuously cycles through Rogue's head. She really had no interest in murdering these creatures, she just wanted them to get away from her. Every instinct inside of her being told her to punch them, to kick them, and to charge at the big unionized clusters of them, but she was holding back... fear of damaging her suit. That's the thing about fear, and she ultimately hates space because she's afraid of it.

Seeing that Logan seemed to be entirely capable of watching his own back though, Rogue turns toward the ones that seem most focused on damaging the X-Bird, and she rushes to fight these first! Another series of strikes with her stun batons create bursts of violet explosions that do send the littler ones spinning off in to space, and some part of that is very internally satisfying! Not that it matters if they all die here though...

"We gotta get outta here, this is too crazy!" Rogue's voice says through the modulation of the comms, strong on some words while crackling radiation blurs out outhers.

"We need better weapons on this thing if we're gonna be goin' up against assholes like this on the regular out here!" She also sternly declares to everyone still listening, before she gives in and just kicks one of the creatures square in its crimson 'eye' when it looks up at her. Mere moments later and her Seventh Sense tingles the back of her mind, causing her to drop down to her knees and duck a shot from behind that sizzles past her space suit covered spine!

Rolling toward the side, Rogue ends up out on the starboard engine pod, ducking behind it for cover until the space crab ends up skittering around it to check on her. She slams her stun baton right up underneath it, hoping it zaps him good and hard right on his space junk!

Scott Summers has posed:
"No, I don't want you out there fighting," Scott answers Lorna. Whether it's strategic or more that he's protecting her for whatever reason may be unclear, but he does have a task: "The life support is failing. Here... these are the readouts I have, on this monitor. See what you can do to stabilize us, please."

Scott conveys the weaknesses items through to the other X-Men, as well as a warning: "You'll have a narrow window, Tabitha, we need to pickup at the larger tanker ship, but I'll get you close for a short window." And they're already in motion! "-----I don't see much we can do for the Starjammer after your shot, Tabitha, but perhaps it can pull away and deal with the ones it has with that aid. Ororo, same window, do what you can."

And to the pirates? Calm and collected. "Yeah, we'll see what we can do," is what Scott answers the Starjammer captain, still maintaining his own 'character' as Tampa Bay Buccaneer.

This is unfamiliar, but -- Still, Scott has spent /hours/ and /hours/ in his own hyper-preparation training space programs, so he's confident he can pivot back the other way, pausing there to give the team their chance.... and then shoot like a speedy little arrow towards the potential rescue spot on the big tanker ship! It's a race, but this is hopefully one they can win. Scott has to rely on the rest of the team to do their jobs well, though, or there won't be a ship to rescue to!

Lorna Dane has posed:
    She was about to argue with Scott that they need help, but she did ask him for suggestions and he is the team leader. "You got it." She says before shuffling over to the monitor and asking Ororo to help keep the air at least around the ship for as long as she can, while Lorna works at least patching the holes in the airflow and life support systems.

    A look away from the monitor and back outside the windows, Lorna pauses and swallows at the fear building in her throat to reach out, and lift her hands to cast a sort of magnetic net out to catch, and hold the pieces of the blackbird and start to pull them back in. Metal spot welding to metal through her molecular control of the substance and because space is literally THAT COLD. She wants to be doing more, she wants to be active, but there's that kick and she swallows hard. "Ugh... make this fight shorter you guys... I uh... gotta pee... again."

Logan Howlett has posed:
There's a grunt of exertion from Logan as he feels the resistance from the manta-like bugs. The C02 warning chimes inside his helmet, warning him not to use up oxygen faster than the scrubbers can replenish it. He grunts with frustration - these suits were made for fighting in space, weren't they? How often do X-Men missions not end in violence?

"Rogue's right," Logan snarls through the comms, tearing another bug free with a growl, "Nothin' to gain from gettin' picked apart by space critters."

Gabriel Summers has posed:
The duel with the two large ship-scale Sidri and the Starjammer continues. After it's initial hits, the alien hunters seem to quickly adapt their tactics, and their fluid space-born movement avoids the biggest, fixed-angle guns. A few more strafing blasts with their large eyes, and there's a small explosion visible on their target. On the Blackbird, they register intermitten shield failures. And then, a few seconds later and with more precision targetting from the Sidri, damage to the big gun.

With that threat eliminated, the two swarms move toward each other...

On the Blackbird, Rogue gets closer than she'd probably prefer to the engine in her ongoing brawl, its blue-white gleam reflecting off her helmet. The suit registers warnings as the temperature increases. But she gets that last spidercrab! (Whether it even HAS genitalia to zap is a xenobiology question for another day.)

Scott works the controls, and the Blackbird, this NEW fancy Blackbird? It answers, handling like a dream despite whatever space-spider wear and tear. Dodging spider-clusters and floating, now-empty cargo pods alike, they weave back toward the Starjammer and the two Sidri closing on it - and now, on each other. In fact, as they get close, they can see the two already large manta-forms reaching out to each other, tedrils made of hundreds of linked Sidri linking up. They are merging, into something even larger.

They have only that brief window at the apogee of the pivot maneuver, close enough to hit the growing mass and before the Blackbird moves away.

Below, the large Sidri reaches the cargo hauler and opens to engulf it like a cloak, smothering it in darkness, leaving its silhouette vague, marked only by the absence of stars. It only lasts for a few moments, however, because those Sidri disconnect of their own accord, going from that huge single blanket to a swarm of individual skittering creatures. They crawl everywhere on the hauler, searching for weakpoints, for modes of entry to the relevatively separated bridge area.

On the video call, they can see the lasers starting to cut in. The grey aliens who were in charge of the ship now look terrified, despite whatever complicity in the initial trap. "Yeah, didn't think this one all the way through, huh? Ah well. Time to make our stand. Raza, you take the port breach, Ch'od, you're with me!" They form up with their blasters, ready to make their stand!

Tabitha Smith has posed:
"Rogue, Wolverine! Want ya to hang onto something for me!" she asks over the commlink in their helmets They don't have that much time so Tabby gets to work. Plasma ignites and grows, each hand outstretched while bombs as large as beachballs develop to be handed to Logan and Anna-Marie.

Amazingly enough they don't seem to even scorch their spacesuits. A little demonstration of just how much control Tabitha has.

When her hands are emptied, Boom-Boom gets to work again. One arm over head, her eyes behind the visor of her pressurized helmet glowing as she puts a lot more power into the next one.

Like almost all of what she can manage.

"Gotta... go fast. Gonna be a struggle to keep bombs this big from going early!" it sounds like a strained grunt of a voice. But at the same time. Like maybe she's enjoying it. Like she just went skydiving, or had a really, really good night out with someone.

With the bomb kept for herself, it tops out at about the size of a hatchback car. Floating about a couple feet over her helmeted head.

With the ship moving extra has to go into the control needed to not detonate as much as not let the bomb float away.

Once in postition with the others though she waits for Cyclops to fly close enough that the three X-men can throw their bombs when Tabby directs.

Ready... here's the pitch..." she yells before holding her hand out as the Blackbird speeds past leaving their payload it's more she directed the bombs herself than let rthem be thrown. But she won't stop Rogue and Wolverine making the motions for show if they do.

"Okay, hunker down. Three... Two... One...!" she tiredly but very excitedly counts down as she drops to her knees.

BOOM!

Rogue has posed:
Rogue was pretty familiar with the variant Blackbird by now, let alone the SR-77 which she worked on all the time with Forge, but she does glance over at the engine for a moment as she's never seen it operating from this close a vantage point. Unsettling. Everything out here is unsettling.

Pushing herself up to her feet again, Rogue starts quickly jogging across the X-Bird's hull, reaching Tabitha and Logan, she lets go of her stun batons, and they sail off in to the black.

The large plasma bomb that is handed to her is given a nervous look before Rogue just hoists it up in her hands... she's thrown Tabitha's bombs before, usually always when in harrowing space missions too, no less.

"Okay, well..." She waits, she waits. "Suck on this, I guess!" She says with no small amount of bravado before she passes the bomb like a giant explosive basketball toward the horde of congealed creatures when their plane flies right on past them, and her super strength fuels the perpetual motion quite impressively, launching the ball like it came out of a actual ship battery system!

When it detonates, Rogue takes a step back, falling down to one knee on the top of the ship's armored plating. "Holy cow..." She says, watching the silent display of energy in vacuuum play out in the far distance before her.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan offers a thin-lipped frown when he's handed the flaring ball of plasma, looking down at it like a grenade that may well go off in his hand. Which, for all intents and purposes, it is. He gives Tabby a sidelong glare, then follows the arc of Rogue's bomb as she heaves it off at the beasties.

For the way he handles it like someone supremely uncomfortable with the concept, he has the accuracy of a veteran soldier. He even accounts for microgravity, more pushing the explosive through space than lobbing it. He aims at the same point as Rogue, still dour of face.

"Some compassionate heart ... "

Scott Summers has posed:
Scott doesn't have time to really look at the results of the attack; his job right now is to hold that spot for them to lob the weaponry, and to be ready to really push the Blackbird to perform for what they need it to do right afterward.

"Get another volley of those ready, please -- we're going to need another good window to rescue once we get there," Scott warns! And with that, he doesn't look at any explosions (too busy, not too cool), to get them as quickly as possible to aid the trapped pirates.

Gabriel Summers has posed:
They have a brief chance to see the Sidri approaching their next form. From spiders, to manta ray, to... something else. They see the start of some kind of large limb, perhaps a some kind of claw or tentacle. Several, in fact, growing out of a single, central mass. And in that center mass, the 'eyes' too begin to merge, from two large wedges into a single diamond-like opening.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

(They get text boxes even in the silence of space, because it's a comic book!)

Whatever terror the Sidri sought to forge, the full shape never comes into being. The plasma balls strike true, landing around the center mass with great, bright, yellow-orange explosive blooms. Although they are far too small to threaten the huge volume of creatures, they strike at the juncture point, and the extra energy does precisely what Corsair said it would. It shatters the nascent collective, sending them flying apart, first in big chunks like the limbs, before those too disintegrate. The individual Sidri are still there and (aside from some at the central blast point, one might guess) all very much still alive and... well, whatever they do instead of breathing.

But definitely not as dangerous. They start working on linking up again, but they have to start from the very beginning.

The Starjammer isn't going to wait around for that. It's engines fire up, and it starts moving away from the spider-filled debris field, toward the hauler. It accelerates slowly, however, compared to the Blackird. Along the way, the smaller side guns fire almost indiscriminately, as Hepzibah teaches them more naughty space words over the comm.

Seconds later, the Blackbird arrives, sweeping close over the hull of the hauler, toward the bridge at the front. The whole thing is a carpet of Sidri, although they're gathering toward the center.

Scott has a point, about needing to clear the way. But in a rare moment, one of the few X-Men who can legitimately question his orders does so: "I think Tabitha has done her part, and we should not risk explosions near the inhabited bridge. Allow me."

And thus, with her arms wide, cape fluttering, Ororo unleashes a huge tornado blast across the surface of the hauler. There may not be any air in space, but there's no rule you can't bring your own, and that's exactly what she's done, turning that air tunnel she was maintaining in case of emergency into a weapon. It sweeps out, vaccuums up numerous Sidri to toss them away, and then remains in place, forming a link between the Blackbird and one of the now lasered-open entry hatches.

Lorna Dane has posed:
    "Scott, are you being too cool to look at the explosions?" Lorna asks, after thumbing on her commsystem. She wants the whole team to hear that.

    It's the small things in life.

    Lorna keeps her eyes on the monitors however and reaching out with her magna-net to keep the ship connected to itself and the metal in everyone's suits will act as braces when they lob charged plasma, to keep them from Newton-ing off into the abyss.

    "Thirty seconds on the life support systems being fully patched." Lorna reports as she feels the wire she's snaking through the pipes from the inside ready to act as spot welds and sealants, because when metal is your play-doh, nothing less would suffice.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Another Volley?

Tabby just groans and tries to pick herself up. "Next time we do this I'm bringing a bag of cocaine and MGH. I'm nearly out. Generator, not an absorber." Well the only energy she has ever absorbed was her own.
rAt least she got to see the fireworks and the big Sidri thing fragment.

Ororo, throwing a chilly hurricane wind in space to further scatter the swarm just gets a tired but rather satisfied chuckle. "What she said. I am like straight wiped. Little help getting back inside guys?" the last part going to Logan and Rogue since maybe those magnets on her boots aren't coming loose on their own. Every day is leg day, but she just did all her cardio at the same time to.

Boom-Boom is boomed out.

For now.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue just remains down in a runner's position, her eyes looking out from within her covered helmet at the explosive power. She remains like that as the ship continues to maneuver beneath her. A glance is given over to Logan, then to Tabi, before her eyes go out to the distant tornado in space that Storm has clearly created. "Wow..." Rogue softly says. "That's not somethin you think you'd ever see... Wish I could share that on Instagram."

They got to get back inside, however, and the Belle pushes herself back up to her feet. She turns to Tabitha, and smirks at her. "Drugs are bad." She idly tells the bombastic blonde. "Come on, ya outta shape thing." She tells her before she's hoisting the woman off the armored hull. "Cover us, Logan, incase some'a those buggers are still lingerin'."

Rogue will carry Tabitha back across the top of the ship, curving around it on her mag-lock boots that blink every time they connect and disconnect from the plating of the Blackbird beneath them. Eventually she crosses back through the energy field covering the hatch, and she deposites Tabitha down on the floor again within.

She starts marching toward the front of the ship, her hands coming up to remove her helmet, her tied-back hair a bit frazzled around her face, white bangs draping down her cheeks. "Are we leavin yet?" She eagerly asks.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan moves to help Tabby, but when Rogue swoops in he doesn't pause to help. The Belle throws cars around on the regular, it's not like she can't handle hauling around a wispy little blonde.

He does what Rogue calls for, putting his back to the pair as they run back across the hull. The lurching swarms of Sidri are met with claws, more than a few of them latching onto his suit and cutting at it only to be sliced up and thrown off in short order. All the same, the suit's internal alarms warn of potential ruptures.

So he begins to move back, doing all he can to hold back the tide while retreating in the same motion.

Scott Summers has posed:
Scott doesn't respond to Lorna's question about explosions - no need to encourage the silliness. The X-Men are going to be very silly, much less if he actually encouraged them! Nope. Rogue's question is an entirely valid one, though: "Yes, quick pickup here, if they're fast." Scott's doing a lot all at once-- the steering, watching where the team is and the threats Logan is facing...

Fortunately, Storm has stepped in to take over. "Perfect timing," Scott says to Ororo, and clarifies over the comm, "We won't hold this position long." Meaning, move your butts, pirates!

Gabriel Summers has posed:
Aboard the bridge, it's utter chaos. Small Sidri are every where, and few have even formed up into bulky, vaguely humanoid ground-combat forms.

The Starjammer members are using a console for cover against the numerous Sidri, until they see the breach the X-Men open up, their route of escape. The one their leader called Ch'od leads the charge. Ch'od looks a bit like the Creature from the Black Lagoon if he took a bunch of steroids. Big, green, scaly, head fins. And when he sees the opening the X-Men have made, he roars, hauling up a VERY BIG GUN, and going completely ham, blasting open a path and then continuing to lay down suppressive fire until the energy cell goes dead.

Then he starts hitting them with the gun. Less effective, but not totally ineffective!

"Guess that's our cue." Corsair pops up again, firing another shot, while Raza leaps ahead of him, drawing a pair of swords and charging down the open area as the Sidri try to re-close the gap.

There's still distance to cover to reach the wind-tunnel connection to the Blackbird, while Sidri push in from multiple sides.

Hepzibah is on the comms: "I still can't get lock! Get them on your ship and I'll tractor you on the 'jammer!"

Lorna Dane has posed:
    Ceasing her silly behaviour, because they are fighting space aliens while trying to rescue other, space, aliens... Lorna shakes her head before reaching back to her backpack and lifting off the helmet to bring down on her head and with a HISSSS-CLICK she's secure in her own atmosphere. "Almost done." She says to herself mostly as she sticks her tongue out while still working on patching the life support and then after a moment of what looks like fighting off the need to use the bathroom she opens her eyes. "Should be safe."

    With that job done, Lorna turns away from the monitors and towards the open door of the blackbird, reaching out to help take Tabby as Rogue brings her in. "Is that everyone? Where's Logan?" She asks looking past Rogue's giant helmet.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Despite being out of energy for the most part, the X-Men aren't done fighting. Picking herself up The blonde wobbles on her feet, a hundred and twenty pounds might as well be a feather to Rogue. Probably isn't much to Logan wither but Tabby herself. "Gimme a bit to recharge. Then I'll be back to slagging these things." she says with slow steps to a cooler where she kept snacks and stuff. The helmet comes off so she can breath air that she didn't fart into. The smell might still smell the same but there's fresh and then there's recycled fart air.

A Capri-Sun and one of those butt-tasting protein bars everyone tries to get her eating instead of the usual junk food. It'll take a moment but that's metabolism for you.

An attempt at sparking more plasma just gets a fizzled little pop in her palm.

Just outta reach. "Yeah, we should totally start stashing funky space lasers and stuff. Bet Cable can get us a good deal on plasma rifles!" she says with a mouthful of sugar free carbohydrates and nuts.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue sighs softly, as she brushes a hand through her hair. "Right, right." She says, her helmet lowering back down over her head as she seals it once more. "These people owe us a lotta drinks." She comments, her eyes looking out the forward viewport before she turns back toward the hatch, and starts to move quickly...

The fighting aboard the Starjammer ship is clearly intense, and clearly a battle that could go either way. But through the connectivity offered by her teammate, Rogue flies at a tremendous clip through the space between the Blackbird and the Jammer vessel!

With her fists out like Superman, the Belle in the fancy space suit comes sliding right in to the Starjammer vessel, her fists impacting against one of the Humanoid-like unions of alien creatures! she slams right in to it, with the intention of going right through it!

Once back on her feet, the Belle looks to the new surroundings, and exhales a heavy huff. "Ya'll order some backup?" She asks, before just unceremoniously kicking another spider-crab across the ship's battered interior!

She's rushed by a large group, and instantly becomes a flurry of fists and kicks!

Logan Howlett has posed:
The Wolverine stands on the edge of the bridge, the weight of his responsibility pressing on him. The structure before him teems with the Sidri beasts, their forms making it clear that they will not be easily defeated. Yet his claws glint with deadly promise, their sharpness a testament to their ability to cleave through even the most durable of foes.

As he takes each step forward, the echo of his boots punctuates the tense atmosphere. The bridge becomes a battleground, the metal and concrete underfoot bearing witness to the clash of predator and prey. The sharp hiss of his claws slicing through the air is a constant, a rhythmic beat to the dance of combat he's locked in.

The battle rages on, every movement Wolverine makes calculated and precise. He does not waver, nor does he falter. With every thrust and parry, he pushes forward, determined to secure the ship and buy the precious time needed. The world around him might be filled with chaos, but in this moment, on this bridge, it's just him and the fight.

Scott Summers has posed:
Tractor beamed by pirates sounds .... like a problem. "No need for a tractor, we're fully functional and faster; if you can help distract and defend your people as they cross, that would be a great help," Scott says back to the Starjammer, protective of his crew and the idea of being tractored somewhere. He can't trust that the pirates don't want THEIR ship, if something is deeply wrong with the Starjammer from this attack. Scott gets to be the worrywort for the group.

Scott himself is pretty well 'charged' (well, maybe even painfully so). There's been a LOT of ambient energy for him to soak like a big solar battery, and he hasn't used any powers since they went into space. There's some nasty headache from it, but just like everything else, Scott is going to do what he sees as his primary duty: currently as active pilot. Still, he'll move into ranged position now, just in case, supporting Rogue and Logan. He sets the ship to hover where it is, to maintain. Scott then unbuckles to be able to move back towards the center of the blackbird, where he'll be able to see across over into the other ship. Scott's range is 'line of sight', so sniping from waaaaay back on the Blackbird makes sense, while still staying close enough to be able to rush to a pilot situation again... as he suspects may happen. He doesn't shoot yet: assess first!

Gabriel Summers has posed:
Rogue leads the charge across the air-birdge and onto the hauler, coming in behind some of the Sidri who are more focused on the three members of the Starjammers. A bounty is a bounty, after all. But their inattention costs them, as she smashes into the back of one of the big ones. Indeed, she ends up on the other side as the impact shatters it back down to the mini-Sidri.

Well, aside from the one in the middle. That one she sends into the far wall at high speed. They don't quite 'splat' the way the Brood do, but still.

"I like her!" roars Ch'od in approval, only to take an eye-blast in the shoulder. He responds with a grunt, sounding more annoyed than injured, and turns to swing his gun-club, battering apart another pile of Sidri trying to form together."

Raza continues fighting like a dervish, dancing his way to their escape in a swirl of blades. Somewhere, in the middle of the chaotic melee, he meets Logan. There's time enough to exchange a single, meaningful Warrior's Knowing Cool Guy Look, before the tempo of battle resumes. Collectively, they're most effective severing limbs to slow them down, keeping them from swarming together, and preserving a physical path open back to the escape.

And when the going seems good? Corsair gets going, jogging across the space. He's almost there, when one of the creatures drops off the ceiling in the middle of the 'clear' area. It has an open shot at the very human, very not-Ch'od durable pirate captain. Its eye glows, and there's a flash of red.

But not from the Sidri. Scott's on overwatch, and that perfect shot he's been waiting for? Well, that's it. Corsair makes it to the tunnel a few long moments later, unharmed save for some singe-marks. "Nice shot kid."

From there, the others soon fall in behind, holding their wind-tunnel access until everyone can make it back aboard. No sooner than he's on the Blackbird, Corsair spots Hepzibah's face up on the monitor and gives her a thumbs up. "All accounted. Get us out of here, beautiful!"

There's a bit of a shudder as the Blackbird starts pulling backward, the Starjammer's powerful tractor beam gripping hold of the much smaller ship. Still, it gets the job done, as they're pulled back toward the open magnetically-sealed bay on the underside of the main body, just ahead of the ventral wing. For a few moments, they retain their view of the Sidri-covered hauler, before the view swings away as the ship turns. A moment later, the stars ahead of them blur into lines, and then into the multi-colored light soup of hyperspace.

The Starjammer is away.

Back in the cockpit, Corsair invites himself to Scott's seat, landing with a sigh. As he reclines there, there's a glint at his neck, a locket worn inside the outlandish collar of his pirate shirt. It's come open in the fighting, showing the portraits of two younger boys, the older with dark hair and the younger blond. Unaware of it, he just chatters on amiably. "So, Mr Definitely a Real Space Pirate, you like the Bucks, huh? You know, last I remember, they were having a hell of a season. Never saw the end, though."