I S S U E
#1: First Contact VII
L O C A T I O N
Bayonne, New Jersey. 12:20 AM
T A G S
<<Enemy approaching to the right. Deploying- Target neutralized.>>
So caught up in his new found heroics, Jaime had apparently missed one of the aliens maneuvering past the surprisingly robust defense the Scarab had conjured up. Of course, the Scarab itself hadn't been caught so lacking—or the Lantern, for that matter, as the teen as quick to realize after looking to his right side and seeing the two plummeting towards in a melee. If the Scarab had been so worried about these green guys that it labeled them an 'extreme threat', then it was probably safe to assume they were more than capable of handling themselves against these slavers. Instead, he could focus more on-
"Hey! A little help!?"
Or not. Luckily for Jaime, it seemed the alien who kicked this entire affair off was more than happy to volunteer herself, and swooped down towards the earth below to deal with it. In her absence, she left the job of handling the remaining ten invaders to him. Lucky indeed.
Resolving to be more vigilant, he exercised what control he had over the suit's airborne movement and maneuvered his way between the impromptu allies he had on the ground and the jetpack wielding enemies raining down lightning bolts on them all. It was like trying to play goalie, only the other team didn't have to stay on the field and could shoot at you from any direction they wanted.
The way each bolt flattened and crackled against his shield, he wasn't so worried about himself—terrifying as this all was, whatever the heck Mr. Kord had cobbled together seemed more than a match for these guys. But the other two, well, he wasn't too sure. The girl seemed scary strong and scary fast, but the fact these guys had her in cuffs probably meant her last run in with them hadn't gone her way. The Lantern... well, he was a toss up, but not one Jaime wanted to risk getting hurt on his account.
"I think it's about time we went on the attack," Jaime said as he twisted through the air to narrowly catch a projectile on the very edge of his shield, "I'm gonna regret asking this, but what do you have to put them down?"
<<Potential countermeasures: Innumerable. Suggested countermeasure: Judicious application of thermal energy.>>
"For the last time, no fire! I don't wanna kill these guys, just... knock them out. Can't you do that?"
<<Non-lethal countermeasures: inefficient. Host must eliminate of Gordanian presence before Lantern Corpsmen coordinate.>>
"I swear I will let these guys shoot me in the face if you don't set some kinda phaser to stun!"
There was a short silence, punctuated by another duo of bolts crashing into the surface of his shield.
<<Host: Unacceptably belligerent. Deploying repulsor cannon. Locking targets. Depress trigger mechanism at will.>>
This time, the metal on the left arm began to shift and morph. Like before, his hand was replaced by a gun barrel, although this one seemed much sleeker and less... well, terrifyingly likely to blow up the city. With a duo of the big, ugly looking bastards above zooming down towards him in a hail of covering fire, Jaime didn't have time to question the lethality of the weapon in question.
Following the reticle that popped up in his field of view, Jaime pulled the shield aside just long enough for the Scarab to guide his arm into the proper position. A high pitched whine followed.
Then, in a flash of blue light, Jaime finally got to return a shot of his own. It raced through the air fast as lightning, and struck the nearest Gordanian with concussive boom that managed to rattle him some thirty feet away. The hulking bastard went flying back up into the air for some ways, before gravity took hold and it went plummeting down towards the bay.
The teen scant had the chance to marvel at the kind of power his second skin was able to produce—his arm jerked to aim at the second Gordanian, who had been briefly halted by the force of the first blast. Another high pitched prefaced his fate, and a second blue beam of light sent him packing across the sky and racing towards the water below.
"I am so glad I didn't let you take care of that Rottweiler." He muttered as the remaining Gordanians—apparently realizing the threat he posed—began to focus their fire on him, necessitating him to raise his shield once more.