xp_logs | Lost and Found, part two: Vanguard

The X-Men make their way through the blizzard to the crash site. They don't win the race.

Nathan stopped, hearing a familiar noise above, even through the howl of the storm. #Haroun, you're going to wind up in a tree,# he sent, peering ahead through the snow. The visibility was bad enough that he couldn't see much else besides the dim outlines of trees ahead, although he spotted movement that he knew was Kylun, scouting ahead. Kylun up there, Haroun in the air, him scanning telepathically... they were about as covered as they were going to be. Not that the scanning was doing as much good as it should be. He could sense MacInnis and his team and the children, still a good distance ahead, but he couldn't pin the Mistra team down. Moving too quickly?

Haroun, trying to keep his goggles unfouled so that he could see in this blasted snowstorm, thought anatomically-impossible and highly improbably thoughts back at Nathan. He did, however, adjust his flight path to miss the tree he was about to brain himself on. "#I can't see shit in this mess.# he groused mentally. #Are we close enough to make contact with MacInnis and his group? Should I fly ahead and try it?#

#Still short. Their telepath's trying to keep me updated. Neither of us can lock onto the Mistra team.# Nathan gritted his teeth, trying to concentrate. #Shouldn't be this hard...#

#Damn.# Haroun swore mentally. #We're getting a little spread out here. Can you tighten our formation here?# he said after glancing backwards at the ragged column of X-Men. #I really hate to admit it, but I wish Ororo was here. There's something to be said about doing a forced march through a blizzard that makes her company seem pleasant and desired.#

Nathan passed the suggestion back, brushing each mind lightly to make sure everyone was doing all right. The snow was thigh-deep, and Hank and Madelyn in particular were carrying medical supplies. #Works well as cover, though. The storm, I mean.#

Haroun nodded, even though Nathan couldn't possibly see it. #Let's just hope it's as hard on the Mistra team as it is on us.# he thought at Nathan, adjusting his flight path again to avoid eating bark.

Nathan thought about what he'd seen reflected in Elliot's mind over their last couple of contacts. #If their helicopter hadn't gone down so hard we'd have been able to count on some solid help from them when we got there,# he sent. #He's got four liberated operatives with him.# Second-gens of the better sort, too. #But two... no, three of them are injured...#

Haroun scowled. #Let Madelyn and Hank know what they can expect, then?# he thought at Nathan. Over the mindlink, a blast of what sounded like pure noise came, and then Haroun swore, oudly. #Note to self: Pine needles taste awful.#

#Doing so as we speak. Didn't think I'd be testing out the double-talking trick so soon...# Nathan stumbled over something buried in the snow, swearing as he got a sudden flash from Elliot. #Shit!# He looked upwards and then launched himself to the top of the nearest tree, trying to see through the storm.

#Talk to me, Cable! What do we have?# thought Haroun as he instinctively looked to get some clear sky - he jumped upwards about a hundred feet in an attempt to peer through the gloom.

#Can you see anything - there!# Nathan sent sharply, spotting a flash of light in the distance. #They got there ahead of us.# He was rapidly sending the information back to the others, even as he leapt to the next tree. #We've got to hurry.#

#On my way. Back me up! Sitrep it to Dazzler, I'm going in.# he thought to Nathan, then put the metaphorical pedal to the metal to get to the scene of the battle as quickly as possible.

--

Haroun is the first to run into one of the Mistra operatives, who may perhaps be holding a bit of a grudge from the warehouse in August.

A roar and a flash above him in the storm caught Lense's attention, and he smiled grimly. Yeah. Falling back and letting the others head to the crash site had been a good idea. Gave him the perfect excuse to engage any interlopers, whatever Morgan wanted. "Hello, al-Rashid," he murmured and applied ten gs, just as a start.

Haroun was hard-locked in on the other flier - aerial superiority would help the X-Men's cause greatly. Unfortunately, he didn't know this particular person, and when he went from a hundred and something pounds to a half-ton in the space of a quarter-second, he knew that he was in TROUBLE. With a capital T. He lost seventy-five feet of altitude instantly, and would have lost much more if the cyberwear hadn't kicked his power into a full-bore burn. He just hoped that the effect was localized and that he could fly out of the range of the effect, or he was going to be one dead Moor.

Ouch. Lense lowered himself back to the ground, even as he continued to track Jetstream, upping the Gs. He could feel the pressure - enough to break his grip if he let the other man keep roaring away at full power like that.

Oxygen was becoming a very, very pressing need - Haroun weighed far too much at this point to move voluntarily, and it was only the cybernetics that kept him aloft in the first place. He was far beyond the safety point on the thermal aspect of his power, he thought absurdly as his vision began to grey out around the edges. But even with him pushing far harder than he'd ever dared to before, even with the sickly smell of burning leather in his nostrils, he never stopped trying.

Hit the ground already, damn it-- Lense thought faintly, tottering himself. The counterforce was immense, quite unlike anything he'd experienced before from a single combatant, and while he could have kept up the Gs indefinitely, al-Rashid was going to break out of his sphere of influence and - did. Lense lurched backwards and then swore, manipulating his gravity fields to launch himself higher into the air.

Haroun gasped desperately as he went from weighing, quite literally, a ton to back to his normal weight. The shift in physical condition almost in and of itself made him black out, but he pulled it together and recovered after gaining about a half-mile of altitude. "What the hell was that?" he told himself, stealing a few moments to recover as best he could before diving back into the fray. Oh, yes, he was going to be SORE in the morning. At best.

Lense was abruptly realizing why it really wasn't such a good idea to be aloft in such a weather. Keeping himself from blowing away required constant adjustments to the gravity fields. Very awkward. But he headed straight for al-Rashid anyway. Take out the flyer. Not like the man had much in the way of offensive capability anyway, to judge by his file.

Haroun rocketed towards Lense, on the theory that a fast-moving target was harder to track with his power than a slow-moving target. Time for Operation: Clothesline, and hope nothing broke. He aimed for a point just above Lense's projected head location at the time of intersection. Let's see how he liked a barely-subsonic kick to the temples.

Lense barely managed to rejig his gravity field to allow him to dodge the kick. Damn. Fast, too fast, and he was hampered by the need to make constant adjustments. He lashed out with his powers, taking the area around al-Rashid down to zero G experimentally.

Bad idea. Zero gravity just sped him up - admittedly, not quite the direction he wanted to go, but it was Close Enough. Haroun whipped himself through a very sloppy hairpin Immelman turn in order to make another pass at Lense. He'd managed to deflect the first kick, but the 'ware indicated no damage done to any of its systems. May as well try it again.

Gah. Bad idea. Lense immediately reversed the effect, turning the Gs up again. He had a distressing memory, suddenly, of how easily Northstar had dealt with him back in the warehouse in New York in August.

Haroun went back to being super-heavy again, but this time he'd planned for it. His trajectory was _above_ Lense's, and with the shortening of his arc caused by the sudden increase in weight, he should collide with the other man just .... about ....

The impact sent Lense flying backwards, into a tree, and then to the ground, only his grav field keeping him from a worse impact as he landed. He tried to get up again and went back to his hands and knees, groaning. The body armor hadn't been nearly enough to offset that.

Haroun went back to his normal weight with a sigh of relief. That was really, really getting old. But Lense was on the ground and reeling, so now was a very good time to finish him off. Haroun landed near the other man and advanced on him in a wary combat crouch, alert for any more tricks the other man might have up his sleeve. The jetpack was still extended and ready to go at the first sign of excessive gravitational pull.

Lense gritted his teeth and pulled himself back to his feet. His head was spinning, so flying would be bad, but hand-to-hand, on the other hand... He launched himself at the other man without a word, knowing that he was at a disadvantage here, but he had to at least delay him, give the others more time to try and get through the shield around the downed helicopter. Priority targets were priority targets, whatever the fuck Morgan thought he was doing.

Haroun grinned. This was like manhandling Shiro, but even more satisfying. Haroun sidestepped and ripped off a ridgehand that very nearly took Lense's head off. As Lense tried to rediscover the joys of oxygen Haroun followed it with a nice kick to the side of the other man's knee, to drive him to the ground.

God fucking damn it. What was it with X-Men and beating the crap out of him? His vision was going black around the edges, but Lense managed to lash out again with his powers - six Gs, barely.

Haroun got heavy again, and his power roared into life to keep him from collapsing onto the ground. He strained to gain altitude, trying to put himself above Lense so that he could turn himself into a gravity bomb - position above target, cut his power, and enjoy plummeting to the ground.

Okay, fuck. Lense tried to crawl out of the way - crawl, because his leg was definitely not working properly, and out of the way because he was losing his grip, again.

Haroun was definitely feeling all the weight changes - the muscles in his _eyes_ hurt. His _ears_ hurt. His hair hurt. But all he had to do was hold on for a little while longer, then he could rest. He looked down (easy to do when your head weighs about a hundred pounds...) and saw that he was just about over his target. So instead of fighting the gravitational pull - he accelerated it. Pointed his feet at Lense and just let go.

Lense tried to roll out of the way, but had left it that one second too late. The sudden lack of force being exerted against his gravity fields snapped his grip and left him stunned.

Haroun dropped like a stone, and got a good stomp on Lense's head on the way down. His landing was a little rough, and the 'ware immediately complained, but he ignored it for the time being. He had a Bad Guy to take out. And since Lense was currently going Guh and watching the pretty birds, it was a fairly simple deal to come around behind him and cut off his oxygen supply with an expertly-applied choke.

Unable to grasp the gravity fields, or in fact do much of anything, Lense struggled briefly, but soon slumped in Haroun's grip, unconscious.

Haroun let the Mistra operative collapse, then stepped on his chest and posed heroically for good measure. Now that this guy was gone, the air belonged to the X-Men. Haroun rocketed aloft, not caring too much if the backwash from his power scorched Lense a little bit, and scouted the battlefield. ~Jetstream to Dazzler. Air is ours. Repeat, the air is ours.~ he subvocalized, then began looking for her. Protect your CO, and get the plan for how they were going to handle this clusterfuck.

---

There's very little in Mistra's files about Kylun. Another operative gets the chance for some information-gathering to rectify that. Lucky him.

Forrester hung back at first, wanting to pick his targets carefully. They didn't know precisely who the X-Men had brought along, and he didn't want to wind up matched against someone who could blow him up from a distance or some such damned thing. He let Blaire pass by quite willingly, although given that she was headed in the general direction of the downed helicopter, his tactical imperatives shrieked at him, provoking the beginnings of a nasty headache.

So as soon as he saw a second target, he went super-dense and moved to intercept. Kylun, his memory supplied; one of the newer ones. Not much in the file about him...

Kylun spotted the tall blond almost as soon as he moved to engage, and took a moment to assess. The man moved oddly, as if his body carried far more momentum than it should, and that proved the key; this must be Forrester, the density manipulator, that he had read about in Nathan's files. He was likely expecting his power to win the battle for him, in a physical fight; if so, he would likely be in for a surprise. He drew his swords and waited calmly.

Swords? Well, okay then. Not quite as sure of himself, Forrester nevertheless didn't hesitate. The X-Man was no longer moving towards the helicopter. That was good. Gave them both a few more options.

Kylun sidestepped Forrester's initial rush--the other man was well-trained, but his extra mass could not help but slow him a trifle--and snapped his right-hand sword out, the flat delivering a stinging slap to the other man's temple.

A flickered glance over Forrester's shoulder told him the rest of the team was making good progress toward their destination.

Forrester reeled backwards, dizzied by the blow - and rather shocked by it. How the fuck had a sword... but even as the thought was half-formed, his tactical imperatives were driving him forward again, as soon as he'd regained his balance. This time he shifted density rapidly, staying intangible until he was within the other man's guard and then shifting back to solid for the actual hit.

Kylun's second attack passed straight through Forrester's intangible shoulder, and he danced back, taking the return blow--hard, but not debilitating--on his thigh. He recovered quickly, and brought his left-hand blade around in a low line, edge-first this time, hoping to land a blow before Forrester phased out again.

It had cut through his body armor, Forrester realized, stumbling back again, trying to get some room. In the instant it had taken him to go intangible again, and as he phased back, the pain hit. "Okay," he said a bit breathlessly, opting for distraction. "So the swords make a little more sense than I thought they did."

Kylun raised an eyebrow and allowed himself the merest twitch of a smile before wading in with a quick flurry, left-right-left followed by a kick aimed at Forrester's jaw.

Forrester phased back out in time for the kick to pass harmlessly through him. Fast, he thought, backing away. The X-Man was very fast. Hell, if I make it out of here I can update the file, won't THAT be fun... He listened to his tactical imperatives and then launched himself forward again, shifting density rapidly, trying to avoid the swords without paying so much attention to them that he left himself open.

Kylun's defense flowed like water, over and under and around Forrester's strikes, his swords weaving a quicksilver blur of threat should the other man not pull back or phase out in time. But, good as he was, first one, then two blows slipped past, and on the third Kylun felt a rib crack.

He disengaged, dropping effortlessly into a light trance, walling the pain away for later, and studied his opponent, who was also taking the chance for a breather. "I do not want to kill you," Kylun said quietly. "You are not a good man, but you were given no choice over what you have become. Will you not take Nathan's road instead, and stop wasting your soul in the service of a bad master?"

"You think it's a question of making a choice?" Forrester asked, breathing hard. The constant shifting back and forth was taking its toll, as much or more than his injury. "That any of us can just choose to walk away and let those kids go..." As much as we might want to. He gritted his teeth and shifted back to intangible, advancing again.

Kylun shook his head slightly. "Perhaps there is a choice you have not yet found." He overextended his next attack by a hair, leaving an opening--and when Forrester took it, he whirled away from the blow, bringing the blunt edge of one sword around in a carefully gauged blow to the Mistra operative's head.

Kylun caught Forrester as he slumped to the ground, quickly checking his pulse and carefully probing the side of his head where . . . he would have a truly spectacular bruise, and likely a concussion, but no more. Good. "I hope one day you will see that choice," he murmured, and turned back toward the helicopter.

---

Kurt finds himself fighting... himself? The not-Kurt is not quite as committed to the fight as he should be, however.

The shape that plowed into Kurt was blue-skinned and scarred, possessing a very familiar tail and wearing a familiar black uniform. "You shouldn't be here," the metamorph said in a perfect echo of Kurt's accent, lashing out with a fist. "You're not part of our orders. Back off and we won't have to hurt you."

Kurt glanced up and blinked, ducking the punch and retaliating. "We will leave when we have the children, and not before. I do not wish to harm you."

"Well, then we have a problem," Jaeger growled and pressed the attack. Even as he did, he found himself wrestling with a strange bitterness. He envied the kids in the helicopter, he realized. All these people, trying to rescue them, before... well, before.

Kurt dodged back and then teleported behind Jaeger, grabbing one arm and pulling it hard behind the other man's back, but not hard enough to break. "I said I did not wish to. I did not say I will not."

Jaeger partially shifted, just enough to get his arm out of Wagner's grip, and then lashed out with an elbow, connecting solidly with the other man's ribs. "You'll notice I didn't say anything of the sort."

Faced with that, Kurt pressed his one real advantage: the multi-port whirlwind. Bamfing in and out too fast for Jaeger to follow, he launched a barrage attack on the other man.

Jaeger reeled, taking several hits before he figured out the general pattern of Wagner's attack. Predictable, he thought, and had his sidearm out and ready the next time the teleporter 'popped' in. He fired twice, but while the impact sent the X-Man staggering backwards, it didn't knock him down. Good body armor in those black uniforms, Jaeger assumed, leveling the gun again - at face-level, this time.

Kurt froze, watching him carefully for any sign that he was about to fire, while he recovered from the first two hits. He didn't try to teleport away just yet, as he was still catching his breath and there was no immediate need.

Shoot him, Jaeger's tactical imperatives demanded, and yet somehow, his finger didn't move on the trigger.

Kurt straightened up cautiously, ready to 'port away on half a second's notice, his eyes fixed on Jaeger's hand.

The headache was beginning to build. Jaeger gritted his teeth, trying to lower his gun, fight the urge to pull the trigger. Not in his orders, there was nothing from Dispatch about the X-Men. And Morgan hadn't given separate orders. He hadn't. What did that mean?

Kurt took advantage of the man's apparent moment of indecision to take action. He bamfed quickly to where Jaeger stood, lunging for the gun in an attempt to teleport away with it.

Reflex kicked in. Jaeger fired, though the gun was at waist-level now. Wagner reeled, but his tail lashed out, grabbing the gun and throwing it away, into the snow. Jaeger swore and launched himself forward, going on the offensive while the X-Man was still staggering, trying to catch his breath.

He hit nothing. Kurt was in no shape for a tactical 'port, but he could manage to put himself a few feet away from where he had been - far enough that Jaeger's tackle missed.

Damn it. Really not working. Jaeger drew himself up, shifted again, and ran off into the storm. Time to jump another X-Man, try and confuse the issue...

Kurt slumped heavily into the snow, still trying to catch his breath, and subvocalized into his throat-mike. He'd seen Jaeger change as he ran away... "Attention all team members. There is a metamorph among our... opponents. He looked like Kylun, a few moments ago, but he may change again. Be careful."