17159/HUNGER: The Banished

HUNGER: The Banished
Date of Scene:	23 February 2024
Location:	Launch and Arrival Platform - Atlantic Starport
Synopsis:	An alien convoy of immigrants in need of asylum arrive at the Atlantic Starport. Much fire is suppressed, and Ant-Man ends up looking like a Ghostbuster covered in Marshmallow.
Cast of Characters:	Diana Prince, Monet St. Croix, Scott Lang, Zatanna Zatara, Xiomara Rojas, Cassie Sandsmark, Norman Osborn, Carol Danvers, Meggan Puceanu, Donna Troy
Tinyplot:	Hunger

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Diana Prince has posed:
It is an idylic evening at the Atlantic Ocean Starport, or it would be if there were not another situation developing here the past few days. With a number of ships coming down in pairs, side by side, each one having to check their ship's condition before they could risk the entry in to atmosphere, the refugee starships are congregating on one of the southern starship landing platforms. Every ship that has arrived thus far, has done so with reasonable ease, each one settling down upon their assigned space, with a delegation of their alien representitives stepping outside to greet Starport officials. Word has been sent out to many various heroic teams to report the arrival of this rather sizable number of unknown alien species, as the nature of their intentions are yet still unknown.

With the sun setting over the starport tonight, and the ocean waves calm all around the station's perimeter, there is a peaceful ambience to an otherwise tense situation.

The last two ships, the most heavily damaged, are on approach now, dark spots in the sky growing ever larger as they make their side by side descent...

Amazon guards line the landing platform walkways, some mounted, some on foot, as they await the last pair of starships to arrive to the platforms to the south of the main structures of the Starport facility. A cool wind rushes across the landing platforms, casting flags, and the cloaks of many of the Amazons out to the side, as the wind rolls over the platform where the alien delegation resides once more, waiting for the last two vessels from their flotilla to finally make it down to the surface of this new safe haven world.

But not all is going smoothly in the sky. Sudden black smoke begins to pour from the western-most ship of the duo. A trail of black smoke, and a loud rumbling pours out from the descending ship, causing voices to begin to speak in surprise and anxiety at the display high above. Seconds later, the starboard engine of the ship bursts in to visible flames, and the ship itself begins to wobble in its flight path toward the ocean-based Earth starport. It begins to lag behind its counterpart in the sky, as the crew aboard the burning ship likely rush to respond to their damaged vessel's emergency before it spells further disaster for these beleaguered alien immigrants!

On the waiting platform, the alien delegation is beginning to panic for the well being of their fellow flotilla ships, as they point skyward, and call for aid from the Starport representitives gathered around them!

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Landing vessels overpiled with refugees fleeing many things. Enslavement, extinction, disorder. Or those that saw a threat coming and took the opportunity to get away . There are always numerous reasons to ask for asylum. And one must balance on the receiving end idealism and pragmatism. Monet is not a member of the Justice League - for the better. Her cynicism is too high.

But, there is always what the refugees are fleeing /from/ and will tehir presence make more of a target and a threat to Earth. She is a mutant. This life, this experience has shaped and defined her. Refugees need aid.. But they can also bring suffering and chaos with them. Problems can arrive with them.

So as ships are landing, and up in the distance one of the ships is smoking coming along for a landing.. Monet goe sto brace herself from the position on th eplatforms where she had been moving to help chaperone arrivals to processing. Then she's moving to try as best she can to try and establish a mental link with the far off ship.

Attempting to try and get in the mind of someone that has a good idea of wha tis going -on- to try and download information if at all possible.

Scott Lang has posed:
Ant-Man may not call himself a hero, but the second people are needed he springs up like one. It's a contradiction lost on him most of the time. His time in the Rotunda begins innocently and then turns into something completely business. The second that black smoke comes in, he starts to seal up his mask.

Aliens and Scott are a new pairing. Well, new-ish. There's some exceptions. This is him broadening his horizons. However, too much time about books with atmospheric differences. so, he may jump the gun here.

Ant-Man will be there amongst the amazons.

"What happened?" he'll ask aloud because someone has to! He just doesn't take into account of any language barriers that may linger between Terran English and these languages.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Those in the Justice League knew of the coming meeting, but Zatanna pretended to ignore it. She had studiously ignored the Starport since last year and didn't remark on it to others in the Justice League. Her memories were just too bloody. And, her presence was hardly needed.

Meggan's being on hand was an incentive for her to overcome her resistance to returning. Telling herself to buck up and get over herself, she draws a violet line in the air direct to the main rotunda and appears next to the shapeshifting elemental.

"Something is out of whack," she comments, instead of hello. "Has there been an incident already?"

Xiomara Rojas has posed:
In the grander scheme of things, Crush had changed. She would never openly admit it to anyone, but she had. When it came to those in need, be they human, alien, mutant or anything else, most could expect the Czarnian to be there. Upon hearing that there were refugees on their way to Earth, a place she herself was a refugee on, it was a no brainer that she would come and offer whatever aid she could.

Dress in her usual attire of hot pink leather pants that disappear into knee high combat boots, a blue half shirt and her leather jacket that she's cut the sleeves off, she has added an arm band to her right arm indicating she is part of the Justice League. It may not be a requirement, but she felt it might be needed so people knew who to blame if she messed up.

Making her presence known by moving through the crowds, she offered assistance where needed; luggage, helping the injured get where they were going, perhaps even holding children for their parents if that's what needed. Nothing asked of her was too much, but one worry remained... what is some of these aliens knew about her sperm donor, what if they knew Lobo's history and that of the Czarnians? Would that play a factor in them letting her help them?

Hearing the sudden change of the ship above, she looks up and considers if there is an angle at which she could jump to catch it, to bring it down safely. It was something she /could/ do, but she also knew there were super strength fliers around, and it would be far better to let them handle it. She'll remain grounded for now.

Cassie Sandsmark has posed:
Themyscira is one of the main sponsors of the Starport, so on any given day, the Amazons are always a large part of operations here. But this is far from any given day! With a large-scale, constantly-developing emergency situation like this, they've been bringing in extra hands, not just for security, but for many logistic functions, diplomatic outreach, everything. Many wise and experienced women have come to help...

...and also Cassie!

Her job, initially, mostly had to do with the meet-and-greet. While she may not be as ancient, she has a good grasp of the modern world, and, well, it's the whole world that these aliens are visiting, not just Themyscira. So she's been on hand at the arrivals terminal, armed with a tablet and doing her best to document the arrivals. While she's heard some of their general tales 'flotilla fleeing disaster,' 'pirates', she hasn't yet had time for a lot of individual interviews. It's mostly "Who are you?" "Do you have injured?" and "Here is a database on Earth organic chemistry, please indicate which compounds may be suitable to your metabolic processes and/or lethal."

But then a ship comes in ON FIRE.

"Clear the landing zones! Everyone, please move this direction. Don't run or panic, we have emergency procedures, please move clear for your own safety."

While giving this speech, she notes a small gathering of the pale, green-haired, black-eyed Karidians who had only just arrived on the prior ship. Unlike everyone else who is in an immediate panic, they point upward and chatter about the ship, but... don't seem to run. "Um hey guys, yeah, can we move it along please? It's dangerous. Just come over here."

Norman Osborn has posed:
"What did you think, Mr. Osborn?"

The question are the first words heard of the conversation between Norman Osborn and his assistant, Jeffrey, as the two step outside one of the buildings a little more distant from the landing pad that is seeing all of the current activity.

Norman Osborn's hands move into the pockets of his slacks as he considers the question. The man is in good shape for his fifties, his hair combed back and only blowing slightly in the breeze coming off the Atlantic. "Potential, Jeffrey. But hard to realize. The EPA is going to be looking at the manufacture of substances of alien origin like this one, with a scrutiny beyond what we're used to. Still, it's worth an investigatory project. But it's rash to worry about capital for production facilities in the current budget cycle until we have a better idea on its viability, and government response," Norman finally replies.

His assistant has a tablet out and he makes some quick notes on it. "Yes, sir, Mr. Osborn," he replies.

Norman looks over to the younger man. "It was a good call bringing it to my attention. I have to say they weren't quite what I was expecting from the pictures. I suppose it was probably the smells." He turns back away, eyes running over some of the Amazonians he can see nearby ringing another landing platform.

Jeffrey gives a quick nod. "Aroma is their primary communicative method, sir," he says as he makes another notation.

Norman gives a soft snort and shakes his head. "Yes, I read the briefing. I just didn't quite expect the smells to be so varied or change so rapidly," Norman replies. "I don't think food is going to be appetizing for the rest of the day. Visible nose plugs might be much, but let's see what we can do on something that won't be noticeable for next time," he directs his assistant.

"Sir!" Jeffrey says, his voice taking on a tone of worry. He points upwards towards the smoke belching from the descending ship. "Is that supposed to do that?"

Norman looks up, the first he's aware of the potential tragedy overhead. "No. No I do not imagine it is," he replies, just before the engine bursts into flames.

Carol Danvers has posed:
Carol's beginning to think she's just jinxed. If it's not some alien warship attacking an innocent civilization that calls for a certain amount of wrecking up to dissuade marauders from their aggressive tendencies, it's a sudden unknown alien fleet showing up at Earth. How's a girl supposed to do her crossword puzz- ...how's a heroine supposed to do her very important and focused monitor duty at the space port when it actually means doing work?! When's it gonna be her time for an uneventful shift?

Sure, she's had those before, dozens of them even, but you never remember the quiet work days. It's always the suddenly busy ones.

With the oncoming armada and one ship already on fire, Carol figures the Amazons on the ground for security can handle crowd control. Plus, unlike certain other space-based Earth heroes, she can't form giant crowd-guiding physical energy constructs. And energy blast warning shots aren't a good idea during a potential panic for space port travellers. See? She's totally capable of not going off like a loose cannon.

No, Carol's content to act as a more high flying traffic control officer, a streaking comet of energy that pauses near ship after ship to check and make sure the crew are in control, before moving on.

And if any ships other than that one on fire need a little nudge, she'll do her best to be gentle.

Which is also why she's letting someone else handle the already heavily damaged ship. She's pretty sure her space insurance is due for renewal and those premiums would go /way/ up if she broke an already damaged ship in half.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Zatanna isn't alone in the Justice League representation here. Meggan has not the speed of a Flash or the great strength of a Superman, but her Swiss Army knife talents currently make good use in assisting someone who needs help opening a can. She smartly pops the lid for a member of the staff in need, and then gives him an encouraging nod. If anyone plans to be sunshine and lollipops about a flotilla of refugees, let it be the reception crew waiting to meet them all. In the meantime, she keeps an eye on the homo magi.

"You knew it'd go tits up the moment we all came for the party," she says as the sorceress opens a portal for them. Her tightly bound braids sway while she walks, and she grabs a beaten up satchel from its spot on a chair behind her. Slung over her shoulder, it's doubtful to contain anything of consequence. That would almost be an accurate statement, too.

Aliens coming and going aren't too off-beat for her, but those aliens might not speak English or understand humans or be frightened by things with two legs. The welcoming committee can also include someone who looks like *all* of them, which is probably a tad concerning. Though it wouldn't be all at once. "I'll point out anyone that harbours opinions on the 'stab and kill everyone' side of things, just in case. Wouldn't want the little granny hobblin' off to be the one that pulls a Hitchcockian nightmare or such."

Donna Troy has posed:
    There is a certain amount of controversy about the construction of a planetary starport. There are those out there who very much disapprove of the whole concept, feeling that it's just inviting trouble. Or indeed immigrants. Many of those blame the Themyscirans, Wakandans and Atlanteans who unilaterally decided to construct the place for the probably ruination of the neighborhood, if you can classify the entire planet as a neighborhood. Many others however consider it just an inevitability. There's a big old galaxy out there, and it's far too late for Earth to remain hidden from it. There are others indeed who think it's a good thing specifically /because/ of those naysayers -- if they're starting to view Earth as the neighborhood and extraterrestrials as the outsiders coming here to take their jerbs, maybe they'll start being more tolerant of each other.

    Then there are people like Ms. Menikdiwela, who just think the Starport is one extra headache. As the ranking assistant high commissioner of the United Nations High Commission for Refugees, this sudden influx of alien refugees is more work, and complicated work too. While some of the newcomers, through technological means or simply some foreplanning, are able to communicate with humans, others are not. Which is why she's currently talking to a group of Karidians with the help of a Rannian Mentacizer borrowed from the Titans' small supply of them. Accompanying her, along with a number of assorted functionaries, is the source of said translation device, Donna Troy of the Titans, who is currently regretting her own accessibility to UN committees, a result of the Themysciran ambassadorial mission to the UN, which she is a part of.

    This is all fact-finding at the moment, before the UNHCR considers the application of these aliens and decides whether or not to seek countries willing to accept these non-humans as refugees. It's going to be a lot easier to find willing countries because there are a few greedy eyes amongst the governments of the world considering the possible technological bonanza this could represent (as well as those corporate interests represented by Norman Osborne and the like!), but that frankly just adds to the diplomatic headache.

    It is also, in Donna Troy's unspoken opinion, boring. It's paperwork! She's getting a bit blase about the whole aliens and spaceships thing lately. They're just not sufficiently novel any more.

    Burning space-ships however? People to save? That never gets boring. Also it's an excuse to leave the UNHCR people to get on with things without her! As soon as the problem impinges on her consciousness, she's taking off into the air to intercept the stricken ship. <<Cassie, Di, Captain Marvel,>> she calls out over the comms. <<Let's try to nudge this thing aside rather than have it crash into the starbase itself. Do we have radio contact with the ship yet? We should probably encourage them to evacuate.>>

Diana Prince has posed:
With the emergency beacon lights coming on along the myriad of walkways that intertwine between the various landing platforms, the lights strobe brightly in the dying light of the late evening. Amazons help direct people down the designated walkway to escort them further away from the alien flotilla ship landing zones, as the unfolding dramatic arrival of the last two convoy ships grows more dangerous by the moment.

Monet's mind exploration yields her a voyeuristic peak in to the situation aboard the burning ship. She can see images of the Lion-headed aliens rushing from station to station, with fleeing civilians panicked inside their bunkrooms. An engineering team is huddled around the starboard engine access area, surrounded by flames, and the clear feeling of the crew in terror might even be more than Monet can handle if she's not careful with how many minds she touches at once.

"Pirates." A grizzled voice suddenly answers Scott Lang. Behind Lang's left shoulder, a seven foot tall lizard man in armored attire looms over him. "Our people are being hunted down." He says in a very strangled attempt at speaking English, as his scaly face looks from Scott up toward the sky above where the two ships are ever growing closer toward the starport landing platforms.

A comm voice crackles in over various team networks linked to the Starport's channel. "This is Administrator Susan Boyd, putting out an emergency request to all capable super heroes. If you can help that damaged vessel to the eastern platform that is showing itself via the green flashing strobes, we have a fire suppression team headed that way. We're signalling the ship, but we're having a communication hurdle with the species aboard it."

The second ship in the duo flares its engines, pushing itself faster down out of the sky, as the smoking vessel beside it careens toward where they had been mere seconds later, narrowly avoiding what would have been a devastating collision!

Sweeping low, the undamaged vessel comes in for a hastey, but effective landing on a platform over-hanging the ocean below, its mighty skids touching down on the smooth stone of the landing platform amidst the high tension situation.

the damaged vessel is moving slower, its altitude dipping down as it is directed toward a specific landing zone, but it is clear it's going to land hard, if not outright slam right in to the port's surface spelling certain doom for the crew aboard it!

Monet St. Croix has posed:
She goes to quickly pull out what information she can over from the seeming senior officer of the thundaran ship that's lost multiple engines and is staggering through the atmosphere. Monet goes to focus, moving to quickly pass along the information to the others. She prioritizes this time, however.

Said information is priortized along to those that are strong enough and fast enough to react over to the ship that's coming in without any sort of control.

The landing coming down of both craft is going to be rough even as Monet doesn't een bother to try and join whatever group that might be trying to slow and stop htem - it's well beyond her capabilities to offer the slightest assistance.

Instead she goes to start to broadcast to everyone around in ways that purely yelling would get lost here a she tries to put out as widespread a warning as possible.

<<SEEK COVER!>>

Scott Lang has posed:
Ant-Man nods to the Lizard speaking English. That rough gravely tone, but it's enough. Susan's voice kicks in and he rushes to a more secure part of the platofrm. Focusing, he presses a button then begins to grow. He's not gigantic, but Ant-Man is trying to turn himself into something compariable to a crane, maybe a little bigger. Either way something with fingers to help move about ships.

"Just tell me where to go," he says back to someone and starts to go for that damaged vessel. Although his steps now boom a little bit.

Obviously, Ant-Man now stands out.

Norman Osborn has posed:
Jeffrey's forehead breaks out in a sweat and he looks from the erratically plummeting ship to his boss, and then back again. Back to Norman Osborn who is just standing calmly watching, hands resting in his pockets like nothing important was going on around him.

Clearing his throat, Jeffrey says in an unsteady voice, "Mr. Osborn, maybe we should evacuate? Take the shuttle back to New York?" The personal assistant turns and looks over his shoulder back in the direction that they had arrived from after departing the fast transit plane from the Big Apple.

One of Norman's hands comes out to give a negative wave Jeffrey's direction, though the Oscorp CEO's eyes are alternating between the ship, and the mounted Amazons and others he can see on the platform. "No, this could be informative. I'm sure they have defenses for protecting from aggressors. I'm sure they could repel one crashing ship if it was going to endanger lives," Norman responds.

A sly glance looks about, almost hoping the ship would come down on the facility so he could see those defenses in action. Though even failing that, a chance to watch members of the Justice League and Avengers in action is not to be missed.

The Justice League was defunct when the Green Goblin's 'Reign of Terror' struck New York City. Norman's hand closes into a fist as he thinks about the return of that do-gooder Superman that reunited heroes that Green Goblin could not hope to contend with. Not without very specific preparation at least.

Yes, this could be informative to watch.

Cassie Sandsmark has posed:
Cassie is doing her best to shoo the one group of aliens along, although her persistent troubles seem compounded by the chaotic situation above... and, increasingly, below. The Karidians are friendly, even if they seem to operate on a bit of a different wavelength than most. So they're easy. With a bit of a nudge, they walk in the way they're told... although they don't run.

Others are trickier.

The Doarj'n - the English speaking lizards - are proud and imperious. Refugee status does not suit them well. Even Scott rising to meet the disaster earns a but of a 'harumph'. Was he finished speaking with the human? Is the burning ship really more important than the plight of the People of the Sun in the Time of Endless Night?

"I demand to speak with someone in authority!"

Cassie looks over and glares, since she's currently gathering up some younger aliens to just carry them out of the way. <<I read Donna but I'm a little swampwed, things are gettinc chaotic out here...>>

Then, elsewhere, there's an alarm! One of the landed ships, 'safe' on another platform but perhaps in the projected trajectory of the incoming ship, has reacted by... activating its on-board defenses. Ports open and armored turrets rotate out. It's an impressively armed, impressively high-tech ship, compared to many.

Naturally there's radio chatter! <<Galadorian vessel, stand down!>>

Xiomara Rojas has posed:
Things go to shit when Crush is around, though thankfully this time it wasn't her fault. The panicked refugees running down the walkways was a problem, panicked stampedes never ended well, especially when there were smaller species and children around.

Having been listening to the various languages being spoken before hell broke loose, she was surprised to find she could understand them. Her research on Xander had given her some clues about her Czarnian blood, but that wasn't one of them.

-- YO! People! Move in an orderly manner! Don't run over each other! We got this under control!- she starts bellowing out In Archeopian, then Dorj'n, Daladorian, Karidian, and even Xaioians (thought that once was challenging). All the while she is attempting to wrangle the refugees into lines, to keep people from getting knocked down and run over.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The mage freezes in place for an instant as the alarm klaxons through the rotunda. Shaking off the memories of the last Starport battle that threaten to overwhelm her, she moves toward the eastern platform's strobing lights.

"Come on," she takes Meggan's arm, urging her toward the platform. "We can help the emergency crews when the ship lands."

She winces with surprise at Monet's voice. A small group of Karidians, taking Monet's recommendation to heart, huddle in place together with their hands over their heads, blocking her way. Stepping around them, Zee transforms her tailored suit with a gesture into tactical gear, black from head to toe and fire-resistant.

It takes some adroit maneuvering to get out to the platform where she joins others whose eyes are fixed on the ship tailing smoke. Intent on rescuing the crew of the incoming ship, she asks a nearby woman who looks like a Starport official, "Are you part of the emergency response team?"

Carol Danvers has posed:
Carol's tempted to curse. And she does a little bit, but it's really mostly mumbled and under her breath as descending ships turn and dart and almost crash into one another if not for a few lucky shoves from the glowing heroine. "Okay Carol, it's not their fault, they're clearly a little shot up and... people have trouble _driving_ under pressure, flying is..."

And then there's so much going on and it can't all be solved by energy blasts or punching. In fact... most of it can't be.

Still, suddenly Ant-Man's all large and in charge. Or at least sizable and helping out!

<<Okay, I can definitel->> Carol really meant to respond to Donna entirely, but suddenly one of the landed ships is opening weapon ports and... really? Really? They're already on the ground!

Carol flares into bright light and rockets towards the Galadorian ship that's apparently looking to start something, only to find Captain Marvel suddenly floating in front of the bridge windows.

"HEY! NO! NONE OF THAT! PUT YOUR WEAPONS AWAY OR I WILL TAKE THEM AWAY!"

Because sometimes you just need to treat panicking starship crew like kindergartners.

Donna Troy has posed:
    It seems that Norman is going to get at least some part of his wish come true, because the demand to the Galadorian vessel to stand down its weapons is accompanied by a turret of some description popping up out of the ground from the platform the very ship is landed on. While it definitely has the look of being some kind of weapon emplacement, it's intriguingly unfamiliar looking. Perhaps this is some item of Atlantean technology? There are rumors that they've got some pretty nice tech under the sea there. Lasers? Missiles? Guns? Who knows. Maybe it's something purely defensive, there's not really any way to tell. It does not look like it's immediately targeting the ship itself, so perhaps it's some kind of interceptor or point defense system?

    Donna arrives at the stricken vessel, coming up below the nose to start nudging it upwards at the point of maximum leverage, to maximize the surface area facing into its direction of travel and increase the wind resistance as much as possible, and hopes that someone's going to answer the call to help out even if Cassie can't, because spaceships are big. <<Would it help if you just punched those chaotic things until they get less chaotic?>> she suggest to Cassie, before adding <<That wasn't actually a suggestion by the way, just nice to think it...>>

    <<Hey, Captain Pym Particles or whatever you're called>> , Donna calls out to Scott. "East platform. I'm going to try to slow this thing down and nudge it towards the water side, if you can help guide it in that's great but if I can't, or I can't slow it enough, I'm gonna err on the side of a sea landing rather than crashing the platform.>>

    <<Monet? If you can get through to the guys on the ship, get them to cut all engines and evacuate if possible.>>

Diana Prince has posed:
Zatanna comes face to face with one of the Starport fire team members, just as the rest of her team begins arriving from the passageway in to an interior service lift connected to the access corridors that run beneath the surface level of the port. The fire team Chief raises her mask, and signals to Zatanna with an eager nod. "We're moving in, and any help you Leaguers can provide would be appreciated." the woman says, as she turns to her team, and starts barking orders toward them. The Fire team rushes down the walkway, and posts-up behind a series of stone columns decored like the Amazonian style common to Themysciran structures.

Xiomara's efforts are paying off, as some of the confused aliens to this world are able to understand the arm-banded JLA member, following her words and moving in the directions that she indicates. One of them, a little Humanoid girl approaches Xio, shouting something to her about not being able to find her parents, and needing help.

As it so happens, two Humanoid aliens are standing beside Norman, and his assistant, shouting for their child in their native language, searching amongst the fleeing ppedestrians rushing this way and that, the male of the species clutching the arm of the female, as they seem to be entirely unsure of where their daughter has gotten to.

Meanwhile, Donna's efforts with the burning vessel begin to pay off, and it slowly starts to stabilize, its flight path not wobbling side to side, as it evens out on-approach to that eastern platform. A loudspeaker begins to talk, Starport officials giving audible directions to try and aid those lost in the chaos of a crashing ship, and another arming itself with clear hostile intentions of preserving its own well being at any costs!

Ant-Man gets a front row seat to the crashing ship, being brought in under Donna's guidance, allowing its pilots to cut throttle, while its starboard engine continues to spout flame and smoke!

the ship is headed right for the landing platform, and right for Ant-Man, and without his aid in slowing it down, it will surely plummet off the opposite side of the platform, and plunge toward a watery grave...

Over Carol's head, she'll note a shield bubble bursting in to life around the platform of the ship that has armed itself, a bright blue-violet light of energy locking the hostile vessel under a dome of Wakandan technology!

The bubble shield bursts in to place, unfortunately a bit unannounced, causing a number of people (and aliens) to get tossed off to the side of the platform, a good twelve people thrown several feet across the walkways and small gardens that line the pathways with flowers and shrubs.

The crashing ship slams landing skids down upon the eastern platform, an overwhelming screen of black smoke rushing in across it, as it barrels toward Ant-Man's awaiting form!

Monet St. Croix has posed:
The warning has been passed along as fast as she can amongst those present. Monet is having to prioritize here as she goes to try and coordinate information relaying along with dozens of different heroes, however many different species o frefugees there are, soldiers and guards and station personnel.. She has to prioritize as best she can. She can't share everything with everyone. She stands still, barely breathing eve nas debris and fire goes along. Focus.

Donna's instructions as to what to pass along to the senior officer of the crashing ship is met with an acknowledgement, even as Monet tries to do her best to translate it. Hoping that in the midst of the chaos and terror having someone alien (har) speak into his mind won't be met with paranoia at the intrusion. She does as best she can to distribute the intent in physics rather than words.
    Mathematics was a constant in the universe - as much as many things bent and ignored it, some knowledge of it was necessary to exist. One had to know how reality worked before one could break it.

All M can do here is hold herself even as debris flies along. Her ocncentration spread too thin to even try and evade something blasting through her!

Scott Lang has posed:
Ant-Man rushes off toward where Donna Troy points. He does intend to make the catch. That's the plan anyway. If the situation didn't feel so dire, he would make quips about "Captain Pym Particles is his father, call him Mister Pym Particles" or something like that.

Right now everything just matters too much. So, he will try to capture the ship like a football then guide it to where Donna directed him to go. He'll worry about anything else later. This includes taking damage.

That is if he's -quick= enough to make the catch. The guy could be slow on the draw there. Plans can go sideways.

Cassie Sandsmark has posed:
The Galadorians certainly see Carol there. They may know who she is, they may not. But their very pretty, fancy ship almost assuredly can get scans of the energy readings she's putting out. They don't... immediately put the guns 'away,' but despite the mechanical posture, they don't charge to fire.

Instead, on the top of the ship, a hatch opens. Dramatically, a figure emerges, heavily armored, and bearing a very big sword on its back. There is a regality to the look, although it is marred with many signs of battle damage, sear marks, damaged armor plating revealing mechanical workings underneath.

In suitably dramatic fashion, it draws the blade and then thrusts it down, tip first, onto the deck of the ship, clasping both hands over the pommel. It's pure 'You shall not pass.'

"I am Taras, Spaceknight of Galador!" The voice carries all the cheesy bravado one would expect of a proclaimed 'Spaceknight.' "I am sworn to defend my people! If the vessel is not halted, we are prepared to defend ourselves, as we have against all those who have hounded us!"

---

Elsewhere, while the heroes do the big things, others work in the background. And there are a _lot_ of people involved in the functioning of the Starport, beyond just the triumvirate of super-nations that helped build it. This is reflected by the UN presence that Donna was working with, for instance, a display of global cooperation.

Also, there's the good old US of A. Ever tried telling them they're _not_ in charge? Rock, Flag and Eagle, baby.

Which has translated, ultimately, to an official SHIELD presence on the Starport, under their SWORD operational division. They too have been been busy in all of this, helping with orbital flight control via telemetry relays with the Peak and Watchtower.

And maybe other stuff. They did start as spies, after all.

DEFINITELY unrelated to this, a couple suits appear near Norman. "Mr. Osborn? It's quite surprising to see you here. While I'm sure the situation here is under hand, we're taking extra action to keep our people clear of the danger. It would be a difficult diplomatic situation if any US citizens were injured in an incident here..."

His tone is a bit bland and unreadable.

In the background, Cassie swoops by carrying an alien baby. <<I won't tell you NOT to punch anyone who deserves it->> she comms back at Donna.

Norman Osborn has posed:
The shrewd gaze of Norman Osborn swiftly scans the unfolding action, strategically observing the emerging weapons systems on both the platform and the alien vessel. He watches the acceleration and maneuverability of the flying heroes, mentally drawing comparisons to the warglider of the Green Goblin. Contemplating potential enhancements, he muses about adding an extra set of ailerons with integrated propulsion for swifter turns. If outracing the heroes proves unattainable, evasion becomes the alternative.

The energy shield crackles into life and Norman's gaze flits up to it. Just briefly, for he quickly instead begins looking for the forcefield's emitters. One can intuit a lot just from the shape of such technology.

Norman hrms quietly in the back of his throat. Finding a way to place a few passive sensors to wait for the next occurence and get a scan of that shield might be worth the while.

"Sir, their daughter," Jeffrey interjects, extending a hand as if to tug on Norman's sleeve before restraining himself short of breaching professional decorum.

Norman Osborn turns to Jeffrey. "What?" he asks sharply, having not paid the humanoid aliens the slightest attention. "Is it important?" Norman asks in a tone that Jeffrey knows too well.

"No sir," Jeffrey replies, "I'll... I'll be right back." Norman dismisses the assistant, returning to his meticulous examination of the technology and weapons on display, seemingly indifferent to the aliens' predicaments.

Jeff? He's not a bad guy. He begins moving through the crowd, looking for the lost daughter.

Norman turns as the suited men approach, an eye critically raking across them and divining their importance by the quality of the garments. He gives a dismissive wave of his hand. "Yes, I'm sure that would be unfortunate. But it looks like the heroes have things well in hand. This platform -is- safeguarded against the kind of threats these... 'visitors' could pose, yes?"

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Good! We've been mobilized!" Zatanna follows in the Fire Marshal's wake, intent on the ship careening into port. "See, they won't let it take us out," she exclaims just as the air above them turns an incandescent blue, and people are bowled over like ten pins.

Figures armored in fire fighting gear pace behind a squat vehicle, trundling up the ramp toward the ship which is still pouring smoke.

"Where there is smoke there is fire," she mutters. Under the cover of the klaxons and the hubbub of rescue, with a wave of her hand, she succinctly commands, ""!serif eht tuo ffunS""

Carol Danvers has posed:
Carol lifts one eyebrow slowly. Steadily. Like, there's a solid two seconds before it reaches its apex after the armored figure stabs the tip of that impressive sword into the deck plating.

"That can't be good for the aerodynamics."

In response to this dramatic posture of unyielding willpower, Carol's arms cross over her chest, and one foot taps idly on empty air as she sighs out. Eyes roll. "Listen, buddy, pal. Did you not notice the whole..." She frowns and gestures, "Emergency response going on? Do you really think firing at an already disabled ship is going to help? Were there not enough flashing lights and sirens to let you know we're HANDLING it? I'd have gone up there and helped stop the ship already if someone hadn't decided to go swing their guns around like a..." She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. "Just... wait here. Don't shoot anyone. Maybe check if you just stabbed a control surface or something."

Carol lifts up into the air and flies off to provide more help. <<Hey, if anyone knows the... Galadorians? Someone needs to teach them about chilling out. But I don't think they're going to start blasting.>>

Xiomara Rojas has posed:
Crush scoops the little humanoid girl up and puts her on her shoulder, so that she is above move of the people moving around and can see better. - We'll find your momma, ya got me until we do - she soothes. She's hoping that from a higher vantage point the girl might be able to spot her mother, or that her mother will spot her, but in the mean time she will hold on and protect the child as if she were her own... not that Crush will have children, ew.

So much chaos, and so little she could actually do. She keeps shouting out to keep people from going stampede mode, all the while holding the little girl on her shoulder. - You know your mother's name? - She asks in between the directing and shouting out. She was calm, the chaos didn't frazzle her, but it did worry her. The danger levels were higher than she would like, and she was only one meat shield who could take the damage to protect others. The refugees were threatening, a ship was crashing, people were losing each other, if ever there was a use for the words 'pure chaos' it was now.

Donna Troy has posed:
    <<You know it Cassie!>> Donna replies, mostly because it's good to have a distraction when you're trying to wrangle a burning space ship with your bare hands. <<Gonna punch the chief engineer of this crate...>>

    She doesn't actually /mean/ it. Probably.

    Monet's telepathic communication with the crew of the crashing ship seems to have got through, or perhaps the aliens have figured it out for themselves because as the ship comes in close to the landing pad a number of pods eject from the ship into the sea, presumably escape pods filled with crew members preferring a rescue from a floating escape pod rather than the crash landing. The pilots cut power and drift in for the final approach, and Donna swivels the nose of to the side so that the craft is coming in on its starboard facing, the burning fuel of the starboard engine now helping to slow things down even further as it skids down onto the landing pad. At the angle it comes in at, the rear of the craft looks like it's going to be overhanging the pad a bit, which is probably for the best.

    Norman's examination of the platform reveals little, at least at this range. There's nothing sticking out of the ground that's obviously projecting the field, so it seems logical it must be something built into the platform itself. It's possible the bubble extends under the platform -- extrapolating the curvature of the bubble to a complete sphere or hemisphere would be the center somewhere under the platform, so perhaps that's it?

    Carol is joined by a detachment of Amazon warriors, trotting out to take up positions around the perimeter of the force bubble surrounding the Galadorian ship. For now at least their spears are held at order, butts on the ground. Ready but not threatening -- and apparently they don't seem too worried. Maybe they've got a lot of faith in that force field?

    Donna accelerates away from her position on the hull of the ship and loops around to take up a position directly against the direction of travel, pushing forwards to slow it down as much as possible now that the descent aspect of the crash landing seems to be taken care of. Flying against the forwards motion of the ship, she puts all her strength into slowing it down enough for Ant-Man to field the crashing ship as it skids across the platform towards his waiting arms!

Diana Prince has posed:
"Ponae, Ponae, Ponae!" the little green skinned alien girl is shouting from her vantage point atop Xio's shoulders, either shouting out her mother's name, or calling Xio a pony... it is hard to say. Meanwhile, the girl's parents are following after Jeffrey, as they got a hunch that the Human man is looking to help them navigate the chaos unfolding at the strange starport, on this weird new world. They advance down a set of stone stairs, toward the walkway that Xiomara is, the mother eventually spotting her girl across a crowd of about fifty people, pointing and shouting toward Xio and the child! People are ignoring the outcry, as all eyes are on the chaos specifically located at the eastern platform...

With the guiding hand of Donna, the crew of the burning ship trying to help slow it down, and the embrace of Ant-Man's enlarged 'beefy' arms, the fiery wreck of the ship collides with the giant Avenger! It's a heroic moment, one of which causes an uproar of cheers from almost everyone observing across the southern landing zone of the starport. People cheer the combined efforts of the heroic ones, as Scott now craddles the heavily damaged starship in his arms.

But it is not quite over yet, as Scott's forearms are covered in fuel pouring out from inside the damaged ship, and as he undoubtedly settles it down upon the stone ground of the eastern platform, his suit becomes ngulfed in a chemical fire that is rapidly spreading down toward his legs and stomach!

The alien vessel spouts smoke in every direction, as its four gangplanks begin to rapidly lower, its Lion-headed passengers attempting to abandon ship as rapidly as possible, their heavy footfalls pounding down the ramps as they flee from their burning starship's darkened interior!

Zatanna and Monet are right amongst the Fire Suppression team, as they move in toward the eastern platform, with the Fire Chief shouting back to Zatanna, and pointing toward Ant-Man. "Can you help the big guy?!" And without waiting for a response, she turns back to her team, which rushes toward the ship's smoldering mass of broken hull plates, and burning engine pods, their trailing gear leaving a winding mess of hoses and long tubes in their wake.

Blasting foam suppression chemicals at the ship, the Fire team begins to douse the vessel from fore to aft, covering it in a cocoon of rapidly expanding sudsy foams, mixed in amongst the thick smoke cover.

Alarms continue to sound off across the starport, as the delegates upon the main alien landing platform turn toward the Starport's representitives, the elder figure amongst the newly arrived stroking his green beard in thoughtful motions, before he speaks up.

"We officially request asylum to your world. We must speak on the matter of what caused all of this." He says in a surprisingly adept English voice. "There is a darkness in the stars above. A powerful fleet of terrible pirates. They are spreading their death across the galaxy, and we need the safety of your far flung world..."

Apparently they are not afraid to get to the point, even in the face of such madness.

Cassie Sandsmark has posed:
Taras answers Carol plainly, in his technologically synthesized voice: "We have no quarrel with these people. Regretably, in our exodus, our ship's propulsion has suffered greatly." Indeed, whatever damage his sword does to the paint job, it's clearly the least of the damage they have to worry about patching up. "If it were to come to it, we could not maneuver to avoid an impact. Thus, as a last resort, the incoming vessel would be atomized." Of the last, he seems confident. Maybe they shoulda spent more points on engines vs. guns...

Regardless, it takes only a sideways glance during this exchange to see that the incoming ship, whether fully saved or not, HAS been diverted on its course. So... probably they don't need to blast it. "Indeed. We see efforts underway. But we cannot yield to others what is our responsibility. See to them, I shall keep watch."

Space really is full of weirdos.

Beside Norman, the suited man continues: "The technology on display here is incredibly impressive, yes. Both among some of these visitors," his sightline briefly drifts to the Galadorian ship, damaged as it may be, "...and, surprisingly, among the founders of the Starport."

"Which means we should be safe," he concedes, moving on. "However, we do have a more secured area prepared if necessary. I'm sure your security is top notch, but in the face of all of _this_, you'll understand if we prioritize protecting one of our own great minds. I'll leave a man just in case - just speak to him if you need anything." And like that, Agent Whoever He Is moves off to continue putting out fires.

There are plenty. The Doarj'n quest to speak with the manager continues to set off one minor diplomatic incident after another: first with Starport personnel, and then when they encounter a Shi'ar delegation (not part of the flotila, but present for their own diplomacy). In the latter case, they're presumably fighting about who's the best Space Roman, and possibly involves insults about lizards just being less evolved birds.

Other problems are less dramatic, but speak to underlying tragedy. Many are hungry. Many are haunted. Beyond the pirates that hounded here, there are whispers of the worlds they fled and how they lost them, to a half-dozen different tragedies. Plagues, infestations, suns burning too bright... or not bright enough.

The universe is big, but still, it's a lot of _different_ tragedies at once.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Now it's the point to give things over to the bureuacrats. Monet can just brace herself down hard as debris and fire flails around, and then goes to take a breath while going to scan along the landing groups. Now for the joy of followup.

Figuring out who the last pirate that attacked them was. The group can't have been that far from th enearest jump points to Earth and those fires looked rather fresh.

So who exactly is it stalking the outside of the Sol system to hit travelers? Are they going to be having to deal with raiders along the edges of their own unexplored space? That's something for SWORD to do.

Scott Lang has posed:
Ant-Man catches the ship and there's a chorus of cheers. Everything echoes in the station. For a moment Ant-Man's taken back. In this second it's a moment where he actually feels like a hero. The proof is in his hands, literally. It's the cheers that ring through his ears. He pauses and starts to smile under the mask.

Sadly, everything is short lived thanks to that fuel. Setting down the ship to keep it safe, fire starts to run up his legs and arms. "I need some help!" the giant booms and even lays down. Trying not to stop drop and roll, but thinking it may be easier to put him out this way. He dares not shrink because that may make the fire a little more consuming. "When I said I felt 'Hot' today this is not what I meant!" he says trying to use the humor to dull this sdangerous situation.

Hopefully Zatanna's spell, the fire team, anyone can help put him out. Because he so needs the fires put out. Quickly.

Norman Osborn has posed:
Norman Osborn nods his head as the suit talks to him, though he's not paying much attention. Just giving the appearance of it. The shape of the forcefield runs through Norman Osborn's head, working out where beneath the platform would be the center. Underwater sensors needed then. Probably tougher to get into place with those damn Atlanteans being part of the platform.

Norman gives a sharp frown as Jeffrey comes running up with the little alien girl, the parents quickly taking her in hand. Jeffrey looks abashed under his boss' stare. Finally the Oscorp CEO turns to look over the suit. "Dangerous stuff, any way you put it," he says with a sigh. "Come on Jeffrey, let's get back to New York. Who knows what kind of toxins that burning engine could be putting out."

He gives one last glance towards the proceedings. Eyes going to the gigantic Antman. Looking thoughtfully at his burning costume before turning back to head for the shuttle.

Xiomara Rojas has posed:
Crush was keeping out of the flow of people, listening intently to the voices around her, including being called a pony. She knew what the girl was saying, but it really did sound like pony... and at the moment, she sort of was.

When she spots the woman pointing and calling out, she doesn't hesitate to start making her way through the throngs of people toward the woman. - I got her! She's safe! - is called out in Kardian, and she waves to the woman to make certain she is seen and heard.

Trying not to impede the flow of beings, when she reaches the woman and lifts the girl off her shoulders to offer over to her mother even while moving with the crowd. It was important to her that the family was back together, that this little girl never know what it's like to grow up without her real parents. To the Czarnian, that was an entirely unacceptable conclusion.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The properties of alien fuel evidently require some extra oomph. The Fire Marshall urgently points out Ant-Man to Zatanna. Without a second thought, the magician commands reality to shift. The twist in the world manifests in a sudden snowstorm of suppressive foam around the man imitating a human torch. Raising her voice, she repeats her previous spell to reinforce the fire-snuffing spell.

"That might have done it. But it wouldn't hurt to verify."

Donna Troy has posed:
The lion-headed Archeopians from the crashed vessel gather at the edges of the platform to look on in despair at the damage to their vessel. While it could have been a whole lot worse, there's not much chance of that ship being space-worthy again any time soon. They are soon joined by some of their compatriots from the ship that made it down safely, reporting to one particularly well-dressed Archeopian, perhaps the captain of the ship.

    Or as Donna views it, someone who can damn well start answering some questions.

    The ship has come to a halt and there are people putting out the fires. She notes that Ant-Man is rapidly surrounded by emergency workers spraying him down with fire-retardant foam, and Zatanna is on the scene and well equipped for dealing with this kind of thing. Donna gives the giant mound of foam formerly known as Scott Lang a big thumbs up, then takes to the air, grabs the captain of the Archeopian ship off the ground and flies him over to the main landing platform where the alien delegates are requesting asylum, and puts him down next to the other delegates before he has an opportunity to do more than squawk in surprise.

    There are multiple techniques of diplomacy, some subtle, some not so subtle. Donna has decided to go for one that's a bit of both. It could be described as the 'look really annoyed after just having demonstrated that you can lift space ships' school of diplomacy.

    "Right," she declares, jabbing a finger in the direction of the green-haired Karidian elder. "You want asylum, you want our help, you want us not to just kick you right off this planet..." she glares at the Archeopian "... and we don't necessarily have to finish putting the fires out on your ship first, if we decide to do that." And back to the Karidian. "Then you better start explaining yourselves a whole lot better than you've been doing. Who are you, what are you seeking asylum from, and what in Hades' name is going on?"

    "Pirates!" the Karidian repeats squeakily, a little put off by the fact that his carefully prepared diplomatic speech did not apparently get the immediate response its gravitas might have asked for.

    The Leonine Archeopian captain clears his throat and steps forwards, holding out a hand to the much smaller Karidian. "I will deal with this Sura," he booms in a basso-profundo voice. "My name is Ree. I am the spokesperson of this faction. We are all a part of a migrant flotilla that has been travelling through space for many centuries together. Each of our worlds has suffered destruction at some time and its survivors have banded together in a great fleet. Recently the migrant flotilla has come under repeated attacks from some new group of pirates. It is no longer safe. Those of us here elected to leave the migrant flotilla and come here to ask Earth to grant us asylum. "

    "Are more of your flotilla planning to come here?" Donna demands.

    "Perhaps," Ree says. "Though only those here have made the decision so far. There is much discussion amongst the ships of the flotilla about how to cope with these pirates. Our faction believes that your world has a unique combination of relative security and great strength, and represents our best chance of survival. Staying with the migrant flotilla is no longer an option."

    "How many more are we talking about?"

    "I cannot say. Only these ships here now agreed to the plan when we proposed it. Perhaps after a few more attacks, others will conclude the same, or look for other worlds to seek asylum at."

    "How big is this flotilla in total?"

    "Fourteen thousand, seven hundred and ninety one ships."