7257/Arming For Battle

Arming For Battle
Date of Scene:	07 August 2021
Location:	East Side
Synopsis:	Agent Drew drives Cal'hatar to his apartment to pick up an arsenal worthy of a small assault force.
Cast of Characters:	Michael Erickson, Jessica Drew

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Michael Erickson has posed:
    With orders given by Carol Danvers, the powerful woman in the Kree uniform that is not, in fact, Kree, Michael and Jess head back into the city to pick up the weapons that he has hidden in the building where he lives. A bit of a trip, that, from farm country back to the bustling metropolis. Lots of time to think, lots of time to talk.

    Michael - no, Cal'hatar - doesn't say much on the way back, unless she decides to start the conversation. Back in his holographic disguise, the clothes that aren't his, the face that's a particle-thin recreation of the face she saw beneath the armor. As Jess drives them back into the city, he stares out the window, watching the sky.

    They said the /moon/ was almost destroyed.

    Somehow it doesn't surprise him.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica runs on coffee and adrenaline, fueled by the absolute necessity to stop Earth being invaded and overrun by the likes of the man next to her in the passenger seat. She has no desire to question him right now. Fatigue, the need to think, and a distrust of what new lethal toy or skill he will reveal keeps her silent. It doesn't stop her from throwing some pointedly jaundiced looks in his direction.

Traffic is blessedly light till they reach the City. They bog down on Exit 46 into Manhattan, naturally.

"Okay," she says as they inch forward, "what weapons are you going to pick up?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    He's quiet for a long time - a minute, at least - before he answers. Gauges during that time how forward to be. But he's in with them now. No point in being vague.

    When finally he answers, his reply is casual, almost clinical. "Everything I have," he tells her. "Micro-scale fusion devices, antimatter charges. Plasma weapons, sunburn guns. An electron particle rifle, six millimeter bore. Other things that this planet hasn't experienced. Various types of military small arms and explosives used by my people, basically."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Despite being braced for an outlandish answer, Jessica swears under her breath, wishing for a richer vocabulary to express what she truly thinks about their new Shi'ar asset. Her knuckles whiten on the steering wheel and she nearly fender benders the car in front of them in her distraction. Spider reflexes stop them an inch from the probable shouting match that would ensue.

The agent is moderately proud of her restraint, when she asks after taking a deep breath, "Ah, how much room will you need?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    It wasn't a question he expected. "Room?" Cal'hatar turns to look at her, expression bearing a confused squint. "Oh. We can fit it in the trunk." Yes. Weapons of science-fiction complexity and potential destructive power that you can fit in the back of a sedan. What a time to be alive. "None of it's inherently dangerous. Nothing, say, radioactive or anything."

Jessica Drew has posed:
One hand lifts in the air, "Oh! Of course! You could probably obliterate the City of New York off the map with a trunk full of...What did you say?"

Her eyes swerve toward the passenger then back to the car she barely missed hitting a moment ago, "Correct me if I'm wrong, micro-scale fusion devices, /antimatter charges/, ah plasma weapons. What did I forget? Oh, right, fucking sunburn guns and a what? Did you say an electron particle rifle?"

She takes several chest filling breaths after her recital to calm herself. "And, it will fit in the trunk of my car. Great. I wish I had time to pick up a company car. They are armored." They are riding in a new car, a Nissan Rogue crossover, her treat to herself after living through the HYDRA debacle and a goodly chunk of her pay.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    He makes the faintest of faces. "It isn't nearly so dangerous as that," replies Cal'hatar, shaking his head. "I only wish I had access of the kind of destructive arms necessary for the job ahead. As it is, I doubt that anything in my arsenal will do much more than slow them down." He thinks about what he had access to in the old days, during the conquest actions he was part of. Weapons of destruction to dwarf imagination. "Essentially to my people, it's the same as what your military would be equipped with. San'gatz Type Three instead of M-16. Electron particle beam instead of five-five-six millimeter bullets. Defensive technology develops to deal with such forces. This commando unit is meant to deal with the Phal'kon. I'm going to save these children and do whatever else I can, but I doubt we're going to be stopping the commando unit." He shakes his head. "That's going to be the job of others, most likely. Or you. You're a good deal stronger than I am. How many tons can you lift?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
"It doesn't matter how many tons I can lift," said through clenched teeth and a look that says Jessica would like to ram the car in front of them. "I can splatter with the best of them without armor of the grade that you wear. My skills are not on the scale of Agent Danvers or the others she mentioned. Hyperion. Super Man. Super Girl. They can stop bullets with their hands." She raises a palm in a halt gesture.

"Bullets go through mine and leave holes. I just heal quickly, move quickly and can blast people." Jess shows him the palm of her hand. But, she doesn't narrate her recent exposure to Terrigenesis and how strange she has felt of late. Not even to the doctors at SHIELD. Old habits of secrecy. "If I can protect the children, then I will."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "My armor isn't that strong," he says with a shake of his head. "I'm not meant to be a frontline combatant. Just that I'm going to do it anyway. You..." Back to the window. "I'll set it up so that you can get the kids out. Charges to cover your withdrawal, that sort of thing. But I likely am not coming back from this. I have data you can use, something else I'm going back to get. And a hyperspace communicator that you can take apart. I'm not a scientist, I don't know how it works. That woman, Foster, perhaps she can."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Oh. Is that all?" They are stopped again, giving her time to look at the man. "Do you ever take it off? I mean your armor. And, there is stronger armor out there?" Horns blare around them and from behind them the piercing whoop of an ambulance trying to make its way through the clogged traffic. Slowly, cars begin to move to the right to let it through.

"What is it that you are going to bequeath to us? You need to write it down, you know. I might survive this either. That is the life of a SHIELD agent though you never go into a fight with that attitude. Not unless you want to die. Do you?" Jess looks at him pointedly and then maneuvers the car farther to the right.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    He makes a face. "No," says Cal'hatar, shaking his head. "No, I don't! But I'm not stupid, and I know what we're going up against. That Danvers woman punches holes in starships, and you saw how tired she was, going up against my people. And I know that once it's known that I've turned traitor, likely someone's going to want to make an example of me. Once that happens..."

    Cal'hatar shrugs, now, settling back in his seat. "Likely that's going to be it. My job is to make sure I've done everything I can to help those kids, and for you to carry out the mission. Everything else is secondary - including survival. Doesn't mean I'm going to make it easy for them, hey?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
Silence follows. Jess drums her fingers on the steering wheel, thinking over what he said. "They are not going to like one of their own going against them, are they? So, why are you? Why would you?" She has to raise her voice as the ambulance whoops its way past them. Cars pull in behind it, struggling to get into Manhattan.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I told you." More perfectly sane questions to follow what to most anyone would probably seem an insane and sudden turnabout. Cal'hatar lets out a deep sigh, running his hand through his hair - stops, feeling cold metal where it should be. Damned holography. "I'm not going to kill that girl just because she has that thing inside of her. And as for the rest..." How to explain it? Could he do it at all? "It's...complex. The question. But under everything the answer really just is that my people are bullies, and they need to stop trying to take everything around them. Someone needs to tell them no, in a way they cannot ignore."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Life is complex," Jessica retorts drily with a glance to her passenger. "Bullies, huh? Tyrants, maybe? Certain of their innate superiority, right? I bet they go in for eugenics, too."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Strangely no," says Michael. "Not in the way you might be thinking. It's odd -- once the systems are taken, they're actually treated very well. Left to their own devices, left their own culture, etcetera." Another face. "Of course they aren't free, which isn't acceptable. It's /getting/ there that's violent. My people are a strange mixture of honor and cruelty. I've just come to learn, over the forty-odd years I've been here, that there's a better way to go."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"We would never submit. Or not for long. You know that don't you, right?" They reach the off-ramp and Jessica starts the convoluted process of getting to Cal'hatar's (she still has to think to say his real name) apartment.

"What is the better way then?" A yawn hits her which she struggles against.

"I need a change of clothes and a nap before we leave. We get your stuff and then I need to go by my place if we have the time. If we have the time," she grimaces looking at the car clock.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I know that you'd try." Michael frowns, thinking of past campaigns, past peoples. Their fates, which in some cases he had a hand in. "Might even win. But that moon trick? Done before. You don't have to surrender, or even be conquered, to lose." That said, he sits up a little, seeing her yawn. "Yeah, just...stop out front, I won't be but a minute." It's all packed up, after all. The trunk in its space in a maitnenance corridor on the sixth floor, behind all that shielding. Took him years to get it all in. The hypercomm box in its space behind the bed. Other things. "...I'll bring it all down. I'll get the gear ready while you're asleep."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Yawning again, "You don't need help carrying it?" She makes a fist and flexes her arm, "Super strong woman and all."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "My people can lift a ton or so in this gravity." He flashes a faint smile at her flexing. "But I'll make sure to remember that next time I need to get a jar open." A wink, then, and he gets out of the car, heading up toward the apartment building. The doorman is all smiles, letting him through. Some time later - half hour, perhaps - he emerges, pushing a large steamer trunk on a dolly. Once the trunk's popped and the steamer loaded, Michael is back in the car with her.

    "Well," he says, eyeing her as he puts on his seat belt. "That's that. Doesn't look like there's any problem - you okay? Sorry it took me so long."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica startles awake at the knock on the window. After she checks the mirrors, she unlocks the car, yawning with no effort to cover her mouth while he loads the back of the car.

"I'm fine. I actually fell asleep which is kind of miraculous when you consider its the middle of the city. Nobody tried to rob me, or sell me something or give me a ticket. Life is good. Let's go straight there. I have my tac gear and gun. We'll stop for gas since I didn't recharge the car and get something to eat on the way. No worse than visiting the in-laws, right?" She puts the car into gear and pulls out of her parking place.