Crime Punchers, Issue 1: Atlantis Rising

[Arhra]

A tandem rotor helicopter flew low over the sea. Distant dots moved in the same direction. There was a storm on the horizon, lightning flashing constantly.

In the front of the passenger hold was a grizzled looking man of military bearing, his black hair starting to turn grey. His combat fatigues identified him as Sergeant Rockwell. He was talking to the extremely mixed group sitting before him, voice raised over the sound of the helicopter's rotors.

"First off the United States Government would like to thank you for volunteering to help resolve this state of emergency. You are all heroes, blah blah blah. Let's get down to business."

"You all know what Atlantis is. Big island, swallowed by the sea long time ago. As of 0300 today, the sea coughed it back up. Structure is manufacturing an ice floe around itself and seems to be drawing on a storm for power."

This was bad news. So bad in fact, that the official international response had been to roll out the Army, the Navy and the Coast Guard, and made a call for help for any superpowered individuals who wanted to lend a hand.

"Turns out it was founded by aliens from Neptune. Jellyfish sorta things. Just six of 'em. They are BAD NEWS. Legends painted 'em as completely indestructible psychic alchemists."

He paused for a moment to let this sink in. "Have to remember the up and coming invention of the time was bronze. No boys and girls, I have no idea how we sank Atlantis the first time either."

"No direct contact yet. The Neptunians are deep in and still waking up. Psychic static generators are in place to stop them messing with your heads. Last thing we want to do is to give the Neptunians an army. The generators are tuned to their brainwaves, so any spoonbenders among you shouldn't be affected. If you see a generator team in trouble, HELP THEM OUT. If you still hear voices telling you to stab everyone, DO NOT LISTEN."

"The eggheads are saying Atlantis is a complex technological artifact that could take years to analyse. What they really mean is they have no idea what anything does. So if you see anything that looks important, SMASH IT. If it turns out it was something more than an expresso machine, pass the intel on."

"We don't know what you'll be up against. Don't go wandering off and keep track of each other. You do NOT want to be wandering through an alien superstructure on your little lonesome."

He paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Haven't said that one for a loooong time."

"So stick together, don't get mind controlled, destroy everything and get out if it starts flooding. If you run into a shapechanging iceberg with a jellyfish inside, you are in DEEP SHIT."

"This is survival of the species stuff so DON'T SCREW IT UP." He formed his gloved hand into a fist with the faintest of whirs and shook it at them warningly.

"Any questions?"

[TheBlindMime]

“I have had an enormous lapse in my judgement.” Thought Eli. It wouldn’t be long before he was standing on a long forgotten island watching this lumbering beast of air transport fly away wishing he was on it. Why had he stepped forward for this, did they even need him? Looking around he noted more then a few of his fellow ‘heroes’ seemed quite at home on the military transport, that was a good sign. In fact, the group didn’t look half as bad as he had thought earlier, they probably didn’t need him at all. He’d just get in the way that’s all.

“Is it too late to change our minds about this?” Eli asked but under the thunder of the helicopters blades it was less then a whisper.

“What?” Rockwell asked putting a hand to his ear.

His courage suddenly left him then, well, not courage so much as the will to be a coward. He groaned and shouted the first thing that came to mind. “You Americans are in love with that bomb of yours and since you haven’t blown Atlantis to kingdom come yet, I assume the A bomb is your plan B. How long until we should expect it to fall upon our heads?”

Eli regretted not asking his first question immediately. “When did I get so thick? God I hope no one can read my mind.”

[Astral Harmony]

Alice had been silent pretty much the whole trip. Her mind was screaming enough for the both of them. So she used her mouth for something else.

Smoking.

This was her first mission for Sulphyr & Brymstone and they were sending her to deal with this kind of crisis? Were the other senior members just too busy? Alice sighed. S&B gives the orders and Alice, who is indebted to them for a lot of money, doesn't have the right to question orders.

Still, one bit of advice she would never and could never give to her superiors: if they wanted to recoup their investments, assigning newbies to suicide missions was one of the most absurd ways to go about it, though success would certainly put Alice on the fast track to becoming a top ranking member.
Alice turned on her sunglasses and checked the data streamed over from the government. Since Faultline, S&B's pool of special agents, was hired by federal bigwigs who demanded success, they always worked with S&B in supplying Faultline agents with the most intel possible. But there wasn't a whole lot of it.

Atlantis itself was a mystery. How it rose from the seabed was a mystery. How Alice could make it sink is also a mystery. No wonder the government was really concerned when S&B decided to recommend a rookie with no mission experience to do a job this dangerous. But they knew how S&B trained Faultline agents, and even an unseasoned rookie like Alice could concieveably complete a mission like this.
Her father didn't seem too concerned. Then again, her father was skilled at always hiding his feelings. Frederick was no longer an agent. Even if he was, he was never authorized to know about the missions of other Faultline agents. But Alice would never keep secrets from him. He was always straight and honest with her, and expected the same in return, and Alice agreed.

Alice finished her cigarette and chuckled. To believe her father actually asked her to call him if she was going to eat out after she got back. She thought about it. Alice loved dining. And she heard from Darcia about this killer Italian restaurant just downtown. They planned to go there once Alice returned home.
The wind was whipping around inside the helicopter. Alice quickly did her hair up in a ponytail to keep it out of her face. She felt butterflies in her stomach. Not because she was nervous, but because it seemed to be taking forever for the helicopter to reach its destination.

Hey, that was a question. "Are we there, yet?" Alice asked Sergeant Brockwell.

A childish question, but Alice never thought of herself as a grown woman.

[Overcast]

Fredrick had been staring out of the helo for quite some time now, easily captivated by the beauty of the briny deep that sped below the twirlybird as they hurried to Atlantis. To be honest this was a bit beyond his purview, being as he was only a neighborhood watch level hero by reputation, but then there was only ever one way to improve your place in the world of herodom and start getting your face in commercials for soda, and that was to do things far beyond your ability in the loudest flashiest fashion imaginable. He had the far beyond his ability part, though he thought he still had to work on the flashiness. After all he had all these heroes with them, and unless they became a super crew of some sort he was sure more than one could outshine him and his mind hands.

He could imagine that later, for now he had success to plan. After all they were looking forward to Atlantis, which he had seen one or two inaccurate children's movies on but wasn't quite sure exactly how it worked. I mean they had to be doing more than beating the crap out of the scenery and hoping they broke it before the Neptunians woke up(as fun as that may sound). It was never that easy, if he had learned anything from superheroing it was that there is always an unknown variable everyone forgot about that will most certainly punch out the strongest person in the group just to show you that it can do that to everyone in the room and you'd best start formulating a plan if you want to get it back in Arkham.

Arrival was another thing on his mind,

"Say we going to jump out of this thing? I've been working on flying for a while and I think this might get me close enough to pissing myself to succeed."

Calculated risks were for squares.

[Toastburner B]

For a brief moment, the processes that made up the mind of Alec Chrisafore, now in his Sentry body, took a moment to enjoy the idea of asking 'is there any history that shows that an artificial intelligence can be psychicly possessed?'

It was a passing fancy. Instead, Sentry deemed it appropriate to ask a more logical question: "Besides the Neptunians, do you expect us to encounter any other hostiles?" After another moment of consideration he added, "Also, if someone does get psychicly possessed, are they recoverable, or a lost cause?"

He resisted asking 'and why didn't you tell me we were going up against invincible alien alchemists?!' Sentry found himself wishing he had gone with a more offensive load out of warheads; he wasn't sure how much good tear gas and flash-bangs were going to against potential alien overlords.

[krogothwolf]

The man standing at the back was The Cosmic Defender, that he was. He was somewhat nervous though, this was the first time he had worked for the military after all. His team he was assigned to were an interesting bunch and looked to posses a wide range of skills and abilities. He was kinda of anxious to see what they were able to do. Not only that there were also a few lookers in the group too. No, get your mind off that Cosmic! Keep the eye on the job not the tail.

Wait, we were giving the go ahead to smash things? That's a lot different then normally, usually it's do not smash anything at all. Guess that mean's we don't really have to hold back at all. The idea of mind control did worry him a bit, as Cosmic never had the chance to fight mind powered villains before. That was something to keep an eye on.

"Flying's not to hard." Cosmic said to the man who mentioned just learning, "I mean, after crashing and banging yourself silly while getting the hang of it, after that it's easy. Though I still occasionally run into birds every now and then."

He then looked at Rockwell, "How many generator teams are there in place? And do we have a way to keep in contact with each other if we get separated? Head Sets or anything?"

[The Kneumatic Pnight]

Adya stood quietly, distantly: steeling herself against an antique pressure. Her body acted with a comfortable detachment. One cultivated over too many years of practice. And yet, it was hard to look at Sergeant Rockwell; to feel the distant thunder in the pit of her stomach. Old feelings from too long ago.

Now, she focused on the helicopter, on the syncopated throbbing of the rotors, bolting herself down to that place where the engine of all things thrummed with a heartbeat. And where her life, and that of the helicopter, and that of the crystal spheres were one. Adya breathed slowly, taking in the warmth and energy of this place and letting out steam.

The thought ticked by, We're in this together. Rockwell and Adya wanted the same things, and so did everyone else here. No wrench would bind the gears of the divine clockmaker, not while Vulcan was here; nor her allies. New allies, untested allies, but allies nonetheless. She found her eyes drawn to them, around the transport's interior: the array was impressive. A small squad of things that had once been fantastic rumors.

All were utterly different, and yet to Adya, they were the same. All men and women with one thing in common: they were all so young.

Why the hell is the fate of the world in the hands of a bunch of children?

[IHateMakingNames]

Jason was a very happy man right now. It did matter that he was about to be placed into a life threatening situation against space squid psychics. He's dealt with this stuff plenty of times. What he was so happy about was the shower and food he had been given before this mission. Jason loves to volunteer for group missions, since they tend to provide basic necessities until the mission is done.

In this case, due to the filth he gathered living on the streets the weeks before, the government required he clean himself and provided food for a pre-mission briefing. Jason still had some of the finger sandwiches on his person. Even though they were provided rations, just in case, he still stockpiled what he could.

"Can I have any remaining rations?"

[Arhra]

"You Americans are in love with that bomb of yours and since you haven’t blown Atlantis to kingdom come yet, I assume the A bomb is your plan B. How long until we should expect it to fall upon our heads?" The Robbing Hood asked, a shadow wrapped spook with the green lenses of night vision goggles for eyes. Who was also British.

"More Plan D." Rockwell corrected him. "If it comes to that, the bomb is the last thing you'll be worrying about."

Shinigami stubbed out her cigarette and pulled her long black hair up into a ponytail to prepare for action. "Are we there, yet?" she asked. She wasn't in the mood to act like an adult.

Rockwell gave the young, leotard clad woman a long look. He turned and slid the door open, a blast of freezing wind greeting everyone. "Yes. After you girl." There was nothing but rough swells below.

The man was a liar.

"Say we going to jump out of this thing?" The Force asked, cutting a black silhouette swathed in a tight sweater, hammer pants, scarf and sunglasses asked, lime green hand prints standing out in sharp relief. "I've been working on flying for a while and I think this might get me close enough to pissing myself to succeed."

"You can do whatever the hell you like." Rockwell said frankly. "Don't come crying to me if you break something though. I'll be getting out the old fashioned way." To be safe, he closed the door.

"Flying's not too hard." The Cosmic Defender replied, ablaze in red and blue. "I mean, after crashing and banging yourself silly while getting the hang of it, after that it's easy. Though I still occasionally run into birds every now and then."

He then looked at Rockwell. "How many generator teams are there in place? And do we have a way to keep in contact with each other if we get separated? Head Sets or anything?"

"All of them." the sergeant said bluntly. "So you're all soloists huh?" He chuckled. "Guess that explains why you needed the lift. They'll be handing out microbeads. Range's not great - cheap pieces of crap. Won't get in your way and waterproof though. You'll need that."

A hulking suit of power armour joined question time. "Besides the Neptunians, do you expect us to encounter any other hostiles?" Sentry asked. "Also, if someone does get psychicly possessed, are they recoverable, or a lost cause?"

"Definitely. We wouldn't be pulling out all the stops if we were expecting things to be easy. Can't say for certain on the possession. You'd be a pretty horrible human being if you just wrote one of your team off though."

"Can I have any remaining rations?" Step Back asked, tall and skinny wearing a black dyed set of old overalls and a kevlar vest. The homeless young man's hair was still wet from his recent shower.

Rockwell's expresison softened slightly. "Kid, are you really sure you shou-"

The helicopter banked suddenly. Half a dozen missiles climbed vertically out of the waves, snaking lengths topped with a vaguely crescent shaped shield like the body of a horseshoe crab. It looked like ice, something dark with lights dimly moving through it embedded inside.

Their tails split into four, curling out into blade-like wings of water, rippling and undulating as they made a ninety degree rotation in orientation. Most of the rest of their mass contracted into fluid sacs just behind the head, leaving a segmented metal tail exposed. With a hiss of spray behind them, they shot at the helicopter, weaving through the air like snakes.

There was a clang and the helicopter swayed, the side indenting. Five of the missiles shot past. Outside, the boarder crystallised the tips of its wings and dug them in, frost spreading at the point of contact. It pointed its now chipped prow at the hull, revealing an orifice in the underside.

Rockwell threw open the door, grabbed onto the frame and leaned right out, firing with his pistol. It didn't get a chance to use its water jet cutter/particle beam hybrid as bullets smashed into the head. It fell loosely back into into the ocean, cold embrittled fragments of hull falling with it.

"Anyone who can fly, OUT NOW!" Rockwell commanded, swinging his body back inside the chopper. He lurched over to the other side to open it as well. "If you can shoot get here too!"

The other five were circling back for a second run.

[krogothwolf]

Cosmic didn't know what to think right now, the helicopter was swayed somewhat after a loud noise. Were they under attack? That wouldn't be good, and what attacked them. Nothing exploded so it couldn't really be a missile could it. Whatever it was the Sergeant was pissed about it anyways.

"Aye Aye Sir!" Cosmic yelled as he moved his way to the door. Looking bot was before he leaped out of the door and took flight turning in the air to see the missiles heading towards them.

"Oh so it was a missile that hit it us." He mumbled as he looked at them and then he picked up he shouted what he said next. "I'll Fire at the missiles as well Sergeant Sir!"

He the flew towards the missiles cutting to the side slightly so he didn't get in the way of them, he didn't really want to test his survivability against them. He then put on of his left hand out in front of him, a blue glow surrounding it before he sent out a blast of blue energy right at one of the missiles heading towards the helicopter.