Mr_Grey

Roland's story is probably about the strangest one among the super group. Roland came to Paragon City with one goal in mind, to find his mother and get the Hell out before any of the craziness got a hold of him. He didn't like the idea of costumed heroes and villains running rampant through an urban populace, spreading violence and mayhem everywhere they went. It may have been fine for his father, brother and Kip, but it just wasn't for him.

Then he met the young girl he thought was named Jessica. At least, that's what his communicator told him.

Not seeing a mystery in the making, he and this martial artist duoed in between his bouts of investigating with his brother. She was an adept hero, and was quite knowledgeable about the workings of the city. However, she had a tendency to complain, mostly about her supergroup and its oppressive leader who "just can't see things the way they are."

Roland wound up staying in the city after finding his mother. The fact that she had her own new super powers, as well as reasons of her own to stick around (she was an archaeologist, after all, and there was plenty of work to be done in Paragon in that field), was enough of a reason for her, but Roland needed a little more of a reason. Try as he might, he couldn't figure out why he was sticking around.

A blind man with a cane could have told him it was because he was attracted to this spunky girl. He wasn't about to try anything (he has a personal goal to not try to get involved with anyone until he's 28), but it was nice to have someone like her around, and Roland didn't want to let go of that, yet. Who knew? Maybe his goal would have an altered timeline.

However, there was something about Jessica that Roland couldn't quite put his finger on. It was something nagging at him about the way she talked to him, or would talk about other things.

It would have been fine for "Jessica Starburst" had Roland kept playing his video games when she wasn't around. Unfortunately for her, he's a fan of the news, and started to put two and two together about the things she was telling him and the events going on in the city. Still, he had little hard evidence about this blonde, nigh-invulnerable martial artist in regards to the sneaking suspicion he was getting.

Then, one night, after he'd finally decided enough was enough and he may as well go home to New York, he got his neck stomped on by Ms. Liberty's Praetorian, Dominatrix. Why? He surmised it was because of the misconception that the heroine's friends had about her "boy-toy," and that the young woman he'd been working with had been in disguise the whole time. When he confronted Jessica Starburst about it, she admitted her identity as Ms. Liberty.

She explained that she was, at first, just messing around with being a low-rank hero again. It was fun for her to have a more hands-on experience with the early career of a young hero, and she liked Roland's stoic attitude. It also helped that she had someone to vent her frustrations on who could reason the situation out for her. She figured that he was starting to develop some form of affection for her, and was preparing to explain the situation to him when he was attacked and the whole house of cards came crashing down.

Despite being deceived, Roland was actually okay with the whole situation. It gave him a chuckle, and he was relieved that he could turn his mind to other endeavors. However, he wound up having to stick around in the city anyway, as various crises reared their ugly heads.

It seems he's also maintaining a friendly relationship with the celebrity heroine, as his apartment provides a relatively quiet place so she can clear her head. Any consideration of a budding relationship seems to have been stricken from Roland's mind, however. He understands that, should such a thing happen, he would be dead within a week of the situation being made public. His friend, Kipland Durj, is quick to point out he's on thin ice as it is.

Roland is a short, pudgy young man whose physical appearance is more like his father than either of his siblings. Despite this, he doesn't maintain the same demeanor as his father (except when he's playing football).

When patrolling Paragon's streets, he wields a hunting bow and a supply of varying kinds of arrows. He didn't invent the arrows himself, but relied on his friend, Sheldon Wallace, to develop them for him. Sheldon also placed the arrows in a sort of "Arrow Space," which is a small pocket dimension linked to a hole in the Grey's Army base wall and Roland's quiver. Roland simply has to murmur the type of arrow he's looking for and the voice-command system delivers.

For conveyance, he utilizes the leg-rigging system developed by Sheldon to hop around the city. This system has made him more agile than normal, though he is more fit than someone of his bulk would normally be considered.

"It's a slow metabolism," he explains, "I'm not unhealthy."

Sweatshirt

Roland's basic outfit.

Enforcer

This is what Roland currently wears when he means business. It's designed for more determined engagements, and has everything he needs to handle enemy situations. He even turns on the laser sight on his compound bow to further enhance his accuracy.

Hunter

Similar to Randall's hunting outfit, Roland also wears armor pads when in this particular getup.

"We're going to need one more."

Infernal looked frankly to his two companions. Malaise was still nursing a glass of wine and Swan frowned back at the demonic tanker. They were three, and the group of rogues they were facing were four. The rogues weren't necessarily renowned, but they were high-class.

A Brute, a Corrupter, a Dominator and a Stalker, they were a sneering, leering bunch. They especially leered at Swan, who was doing her best to ignore them.

"We can take them, guys," Malaise intoned, "If a fourth is so important, why don't we just call Luminary over..."

"She's dancing with Mark Four," Infernal explained, "Besides, she rarely, if ever, comes here to fight."

"I come here to fight," a rough voice announced behind him, "What's the deal?"

The heroes turned to the strange looking young man with a half a glass of a strong alcoholic drink in hand. He was dressed in a red tank top and leather pants. A set of chains were wrapped around his torso, and he had his eyes shadowed with some sort of black substance. His hair was done up in a crazy set of dreadlocks. A katana was placed in the chains and strapped on his back.

Malaise quirked his eye at him and Swan made a peculiar snort. Infernal's reaction, however, was strangest by far.

"What is it about you guys that we keep running into you?"

"I don't remember meeting you guys before," Mattock McGinty replied, "Oh! The group... Yeah, Kip's said the same thing before, but considering how much else we do in a month, it could just be that we're noticing the various things that are different."

"Different?" Infernal asked, "What's so different about this?"

"I dunno," the scrapper shrugged, "Feels different."

"I don't think we can use you," Malaise set his drink aside, "Come on, guys, we can do this..."

"Hey, I've seen firsthand how just one person can change the tide of any fight," Matt knocked back the glass and slammed it on the table in front of them, "Come on! What've you got to lose?"

The Vindicators looked to each other, worry evident on each of their faces. Infernal finally shrugged and turned to the crazy looking young man.

"Mad Matt McGinty?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to help us on this?"

-----------

"Not the Monkey Cage!" Malaise whined, "Weren't we just here?"

"No, you were just here when you got ganked by that Stalker," Infernal replied, "Now, look, Matt..."

Matt drew his sword and looked it over. He took a few practice swings and noted the hum the weapon made as it sailed through the air.

"I should've brought my rusty hunk of steel," he rasped.

"Matt!" the demon binder shouted.

"I know, I know... What is it?"

"We need to work together in this, alright? Every rogue I've ever faced has been more than capable of handling numbers greater than their own, and what's worse is that they know it. These guys have been giving us trouble all night, and I'm the only one that's been able to beat any of them."

"The brute, right?" Matt asked.

"Shut up!" Infernal shouted, "Look, a proper team of heroes can take just about anything that comes their way."

"So how's this one going to do?"

"You better take this seriously!" Malaise poked Matt in the chest, "How we do here reflects on how we'll do when it counts!"

"First off, don't ever touch me again," Matt narrowed his eyes at the psychic, "Second of all, look at these guys. They clearly spend all their time in here, tweaking their powers and perfecting their strategies. However seriously you're taking this, they take it worse. To them there are no heroes or villains, there's only the arena and contenders."

"They're all career criminals," Swan wagged her finger at Matt.

"Yeah, I guess..."

Matt walked over to her.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he drew his sword.

Malaise and Infernal moved to stop him, but Matt was too quick. he jabbed his blade into the air just behind Swan, and the dark-dressed Stalker shouted angrily when the tip bit into his shoulder.

"OW! What the Hell!?"

"I can see you," Matt chuckled as he drew back for another swing.

"HACKS!" the Stalker shouted and went to speed away.

Swan spun around, gritted her teeth, and blasted the Stalker with a beam of energy that yanked his speed out of him. She followed this up with a spike of psychic energy that ripped into his brain and left him vulnerable to even more assault. Malaise and Infernal flanked her, the tanker drawing his axe as he closed in, the controller whipping up a nightmare visage drawn from the Stalker's own tortured memories before surrounding him with multitudinous versions of them.

"Cheerleaders! NOOOOOOO!"

Infernal's axe cleaved through the rogue's torso and he slumped to the ground. Lying there, still breathing, he curled up into a little ball and started muttering something about the basketball team and "please don't dunk me in the toilet again..."

"Oh-HO! It's Revenge of the Loser, not Revenge of the Dark!" the Brute shouted from the top of the ramp outside the cage, "My team and I have come up with a theory, capes, that any one of us can take you all down! So come on, and show me what you've got!"

"This guy couldn't take us," Matt shouted back, "You sure you want to try this?"

"Don't make me come down there!"

"What does this guy call himself?"

"Bahller," Infernal rolled his eyes, "I guess it's supposed to be some kind of reference to some ancient deity, Baal, but made more 'gangster' in the modern vernacular..."

"'Gangsta', Infernal," Swan corrected, "'Gang-stah.'"

"So, you're saying he's a moron in need of being put out of his misery," McGinty growled, "You guys make sure they don't try anything screwy. I'll take care of this guy."

Finding a hole in the fencing surrounding them, he made his way for the ramp and marched quickly up to Bahller. The demonic-dressed brute chuckled and drew a pair of orange-colored blades as his body suddenly erupted in flames. When he went to swing, however, Matt leaned back, avoided both swipes, and snapped back with a vicious kick to the groin.

"En garde!" he shouted as he drew his own sword, spun around, and caught the Brute's armor at the waist.

With a hard (yet smooth) pull, he lifted the surprised rogue into the air and caught him across the belly with another slash as he landed. Bahller was suddenly scared as he tried to fight back, his blades getting caught by Matt's single one as the scrapper moved like a blur before his eyes.

"What the- How can you be doing this!?" Bahller shouted before Matt slammed his hilt into the Brute's forehead and knocked him out.

"Because I'm tough!" the scrapper shouted back.

When he turned to join the others, it seemed the rogues had tried to ambush him as he deftly eliminated the Brute. Infernal was busy trying to shrug off the nightmarish visions implanted in his mind by the female dominator (a rather attractive young woman named "Psycore") while Malaise and Swan were having trouble with the Corrupter, who was throwing fire about while he dropped an odd assortment of traps around. Matt missed his name...

Shoulder tackling the dominator, he tried to knock some sense into Infernal. The burly tanker swiped at him with a backhand. He seemed confused, Matt wasn't that tall... But Psycore was.

"Time to break the bad," he growled as he side-stepped a downward axe swing, "Hey, lug-nuts! Follow me!"

He darted this way and that, keeping the burly tanker in range and running away from their other two teammates. malaise went down, but Swan caught the Corrupter in an attack that put him to sleep. She then performed a strange maneuver that drew energy from her foe and all of his little tricks and toys before emitting a psychic scream that tore through his mind and sent hims creaming into the corner, broken and defeated.

Matt was silently applauding her when he backed into Psycore. She laid her hand on his shoulder and he suddenly couldn't move. He could talk, think, breathe and any number of other things, but he couldn't raise his hand to defend himself, nor could he so much as walk away.

"Infernal, dearest," the Dominator purred, "Would you kindly chop this little freak in half?"

"Yes, ma'am..." the tanker slurred dully.

"Infernal!" Swan shouted as she started flying toward them, "What are you doing! Stop!"

The burly hero brought his weapon down, crushing Psycore's head and neck into her shoulders with the flat of his blade. Her body had a minor "bounce" to it as he pulled his weapon away and she slumped to the floor. Matt suddenly found he could move again.

"Wow!" he shouted, "You had me concerned for a second there!"

"Actually, I was still under her sway," Infernal admitted, "And when my brain cleared, I was considering chopping you in half anyway."

"What? Why?"

The tanker looked back to Swan with a worried look on his face.

"I think I got my sarcasm wrong again."

"That's okay, you'll get it right eventually."

----------

"Oh, my head," Malaise muttered as they exited Pocket D from the King's Row entrance, "I'm going to need some pretty heavy meds..."

"You just need bed rest," Swan replied as she rubbed her associate's temple, relieving some of the stress, "Feeling better?"

"A little," Jean-Pierre replied, "So... Did we win?"

"Yeah, we won!" Matt replied from his motorcycle, "So, what was it? You guys fought each of those guys one at a time?"

"I fought the corrupter," Lena replied, "Infernal, the Brute, and Malaise was instructed to punch himself repeatedly in the face by the Dominator."

"Ouch..."

"I tried some different tactics this time, the corrupter didn't, and he got lucky when he caught Mal with that last fire blast."

"He sure didn't treat it like luck," the illusionist sighed, "He was all set to gloat when you conked him out."

"Fortunately, our foes did suffer from the same megalomania that always seems to affect them when they believe they've won."

"Well, I'll see you guys later."

Mattock was about to start up his motorcycle when Infernal stopped him.

"What is this contraption?" he asked as he looked over the monstrous machine.

"You don't know what a motorcycle is? What planet are you from?"

"What he means, [butt]hole," Malaise retorted, "Is why does it look so strange? There's all sorts of bizarre energies coming out of that thing."

"Oh yeah... My friend, Cory, he says I'm an artificator or something..."

"An artificer?" Infernal corrected.

"That's the one, and, well, I helped out this mechanic in Skyway City. I don't know if you've ever met Lou... In any case, I helped him and his family out, and he's been letting me use his shop to work on this thing ever since. The first iteration of this baby was a bike with a rocket pod and a mini0gun built into it!"

"My god!" Swan shouted in disgust.

Malaise and Infernal seemed intrigued, however.

"So, do you think you could build other things?" the tanker asked as he stroked his chin, "What have you got powering this machine?"

"A crystal called a dragon heart..."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Nah, it's a slow-burn type of artifact. No... What I've been having trouble with is the apparently inherent intelligence this machine seems to have. It acts a lot like a horse, you know?"

"I can sense it!" Malaise exclaimed as he pressed his palm into the side of the bike's manifold, "Amazing! it's a female presence..."

"Boys and their toys, I guess," Swan shook her head, "It never fails."

"Do you think I can take her for a spin?" Jean-Pierre asked his headache now completely forgotten.

"Sure, if she'll let ya!" Matt replied with a mischievous grin, "Not you, though Infernal. Sorry, but you're just too freaking big."

"That's fine, my wings aren't conducive to such transportation, anyway."

I like this!

I like this a lot!

((I think it needs more setting. RPs are usually better if they're more "goal-oriented," too. I don't know if it matters whether or not that goal is tangible, but I think it would be nice to know there's a reason to be here.

Or maybe that goes against the nature of this RP. In which case, it will probably go the way of the Zig threads. If there's no real reason for us to be there other than just to be there, well, we'll essentially be in a prison with nothing to do.))

The first negative I see here is the name of your Eternal.

Malaise is already a character in this game. True, he's an ill-defined, background hero character that the devs use whenever they need to throw in somebody with ambiguous loyalties (to this day, nobody is certain as to whether or not Malaise is a Hero or a Rogue because he's been seen in both roles), but he's there.

You might need a different name for that character.

I didn't expect to get quoted in Content Watch. That was a nifty surprise.

Scoop still seems pretty cool. Keep up the good work, guys.

The Ryat Series is a set of androids developed by Sheldon Wallace out of the components he scavenged from the wreckages of countless robots and automatons developed by the various villain groups around the city. Parts from machines like the Clockwork were easy to find scattered about, but for the more complex pieces, Sheldon had to get help from Grey's Army's more proficient heroes.

Working at converting the components took Sheldon a surprisingly short amount of time. He attributes this to his kinetic energy manipulation and its ability to increase his speed.

Numbering at one hundred, the androids are a peculiar and diverse group. They have a surprising versatility to their abilities as well, and in fact, retain very few known capabilities of the machines they've been built from. One retained trait, however, is a small key-winder that pops out of a panel in their backs whenever they are knocked out. A message on the inside of the cover plate gives a warning "Do Not Turn Key!" Apparently, the idea is that villains will, almost invariably, turn the key due to a defiance complex. Once turned, the key-winder activates a generator similar to the electric motors found inside Clockwork robots, and it's a charge strong enough to get the androids' generators running again.

Each Ryat has a circulatory system similar to that of a human, though it's a more simplified version. Lubricant and a serum full of nanotechnology robots flows freely through this system, pumped out through a small "heart" that seems located somewhere in the chest cavity of the machine. This nanotechnology seems to be the source of many of the androids' amazing diversities, as it continually alters and shifts the body and working parts of the android depending on the various situations the machine finds itself in. Despite having all been built to look pretty much the same, after a year, each Ryat now has a radically different appearance from its fellows and a different personality.

For the first quarter of 2007, the entire series had been interred in a secure vault under the Freedom Corps building in Galaxy City. When the Praetorians staged an invasion of Prime Earth, it was Ryat99 that released them among the populace to help bring a more concentrated effort against the invading forces. The resulting spearhead of super-powered androids and meta-humans were able to handily secure Galaxy City and Atlas Park, as well as move on to reclaim Perez Park and the Hollows (if only for a moment).

Now the Ryats work general jobs for Grey's Army and Portal Corporation, often being utilized in dangerous situations. Randall's confided in the leadership of the androids (currently Ryat66, Ryat99 and Ryat10) that he intends to try to utilize them, in concert with other construction outfits, to help restore the more damaged sections of the city. They mostly seem quite pleased with the plan.

The source code for their artificial intelligence is sophisticated and unusual. Despite having been studied numerous times, programmers and scientists in the D.A.T.A. offices cannot seem to duplicate the code. in fact, the only individual able to make a copy of the code seems to be Sheldon Wallace, which doesn't make any sense.

Despite the fact that the androids are, by design, androgynous, they often refer to each other in terms of "he" or "she," sometimes even going so far as to adopt speech patterns and, eventually, certain physical and social characteristics attributed to particular genders.

Ryat Prime

Ryat Prime is the prototypical Ryat android. He is capable of making a complex fuzzy logic program and uploading it into robots that he recovers from across the Isles. Most are broken wrecks from Mastermind-class rogues, others seem to be abandoned machines.

Prime was released before the rest of the Ryat androids and unleashed in the Rogue Isles. He was left with a message indicating that Longbow was trying to use him to infiltrate Arachnos, but he has received little-to-no word from any contacts within the organization. He's even been assaulted by a number of their soldiers (he uses a "stun" setting to take them down safely).

Prime would put more effort toward figuring the mystery out, but he has more problems on his hands at the moment. Primarily, he needs to discover the whereabouts of the rogue Ryat android, Ryat84, and put a stop to his maddened schemes by any means possible.

Ryat10

One of the medical androids of the Ryat series, Ryat10 is one of the leaders of the androids. He utilizes a Healing Nanite Generator similar in construction to that of Nester Durj. To defend himself, he utilizes the same kinds of electrical blasts that are more familiar to the Clockwork.

Ryat06

Ryat06 is one of the "female" androids among the series. She has yet to develop a physical appearance matching her gender, but her voice, personality, and even a few mannerisms are decidedly feminine. She doesn't seem to have much in the way of defensive capabilities, but she does seem to have a reasonably tough armor. For weaponry, Ryat06 uses a pair of peculiar polymer blades that seem to be an extension of her own circuitry.

Ryat24

Ryat24 got a hold of a special assault rifle while fighting the Praetorians. After the battle, he signed up with Freedom Corps to keep it. Coupled with his own personal power control, he's proven to be quite the adept foot soldier in the war on crime and terror in Paragon City.

Ryat66: Basic

Ryat66: Sleek Battle Armor

Ryat66: Scavenger Armor

Ryat66 is one of the two androids that was left free to roam about the city as a hero while Freedom Corps tried to figure out what to do with the entire group. He and his partner, Ryat99, were monitored frequently for any signs of "regression" as they roamed about the city and beat up bad guys.

Ryat66 was the first android to develop super powers. He channeled the abundant electricity flowing through his body into his hands, focused it, and turned it into plasma blasts. He could also use the electricity as it was and channel it into his punches, or throw out nanotech-electric nets to bind up his foes. Utilizing these powers, he was able to lead the androids in their defense against the Clockwork during one of their first performance tests in Baumton.

Ryat99: Basic

Ryat99: Flight Armor

Ryat99: Heavy Armor

Ryat99 is one of fifteen heavy model Ryat androids. They don't have too much of an advantage over the smaller Ryats, aside from the fact that they're more resilient and can lift a heavier load. They're more adept at demolition work, as well, since they can take the heavier amount of punishment.

Ryat99, unlike the other androids built before him, was built with combat in mind. Sheldon installed an altered cooling system, one that allows Ryat99 to utilize ice as an armor and as a weapon. By mixing his nanites into the mix, Ryat99 has been able to make different densities in the ice layers, alternate reflections and refractions, even grow icicle spikes and make blades from the ice. When these things fail, he turns to simply spraying the super-cold fluid at his enemies in a fine mist that coats their bodies and slows them down while delivering a surprising amount of pain.

Ryat66 and Ryat99 have each learned how to alter their bodies. Essentially, the internal skeleton remains the same. The outer shell, however, is folded back into the main body and replaced by one of the alternate plates that was already stored inside. It's a peculiar process, and one that many inventors are still scratching their heads over, but the androids seem determined to keep it a secret. When asked about it, Ryat99 simply replied "It's in the blood."

Ryat84

Ryat Rogue

Ryat84 is the renegade of the Ryat series. Nobody knows why he suddenly used excessive force and torture against the Praetorians, or why he seems to have gone into a cliche "Destroy All Humans!" rampage. To facilitate his mad scheme, he has constructed the massive and frightening Ryat Rogue series. Most of the machines are poor imitations of the heavy Ryats, and since they were constructed from what little scrap metal Ryat84 could find, they aren't very resilient. One, however, has proven to be quite powerful, and assists Ryat84 wherever he goes.

This is pretty entertaining... The story of an up-and-coming villain group.

Nifty.

Your last RP was a concept that changed with every person that joined it. The more people joined, the more incoherent it became. It diverged wildly from the original path of the thread...

In other words, it was like any other RP Thread, only with slightly less structure.

It had some pretty nifty visuals, though.

((Thanks, Build.))

"So... We've got no support from Aarons?" Captain Daniels asked as he reviewed the notes for their meeting, "No help forthcoming from the Pentagon, either, I see..."

"Nope," Rachek frowned as he leaned back in his chair, "Aarons doesn't want another fiasco like he got with Duray, and the Top Brass wouldn't even return my calls while I was stateside. As it stands, we're on our own... In tangible ways."

"Tangible?" Captain Anderson growled, "Looks like every conceivable way, too."

"Well, I did get word from the City Rep that the Mayor and the City Council are supporting our pardons, and the F.C. has decided that, until the State or Federal government says otherwise, they're gonna let us alone," Anthony held up a few notarized sheets of paper, "That in itself is a kind of support."

"Support enough to keep us from having to fight a war on two fronts instead of one," Anderson grumbled, "And why are you having our engineers and mechanics tear apart the Skiffs?"

"A bad feeling..."

"A bad feeling!?" Anderson jumped up, his face red with rage, "Damn it, Tony, you've cut us off from our friends, our family, our supplies... We're about as [dreck]-canned as we can be, and all because of your macho head games!"

"If you're gonna betray me, Anderson," Rachek growled back, "Pull your damn sidearm now and get it over with."

"What?"

Rachek stood from his chair, his speed causing enough force for it to be knocked back, and slammed his fists into the table.

"This isn't the time for power-struggles and backstabbing, Anderson! You knew what was coming from the last time we pulled this [dreck]! Remember Vigilance? It wasn't that long ago, buddy, and you knew what was coming from the last time! I haven't cut you off from [dreck]! Your wife and kids are still in Idaho, and there ain't no one tellin' ya you can't see them! I don't care if you're just tellin' me what you always wanted to tell Duray, we do not have the time nor the room for this crap! So you can either shoot me now, or get the Hell out!"

He drew his machete and stabbed it into the table. Captain Anderson stared at it for a couple seconds. The rest of the captains looked from one to the other. It may not have been a "Round Table," but as the Air Guard stood, they had no superiors at the moment. Rachek was only the de facto leader as things stood, and if anybody wanted to make a power play, this would be the time.

Captain Anderson didn't move for his sidearm. He just frowned and looked down at the table.

"Now, if ya ain't gonna shoot me, and you ain't gonna leave, sit down and wait until we've got all of our news," Anthony grumbled as he retrieved his chair, "I'm too old and too tired to be putting up with this cliche [dreck]..."

The meeting resumed. Captain Daniels explained that they'd been making headway with the repairs of the Thunder Nimbus since they recruited the talents of the Defender-class hero from the Brutal Warriors Order. Rachek was hoping to bring their base and their dropship into the Air Guard, at least as allies, except the ship had been lost to the Rikti War (oddly enough to a rare instance of the Honoree tearing through the city), and aside for a few supply runs, the base had been abandoned since the end of the major hostilities.

Rachek sighed and ground out his cigar. He was glad that the B.W.O. had forgiven him and his troops, and were even willing to work with them, but he didn't like how fortune was turning against them. He decided they should maintain patrols around the old base anyway, at least until he received word that the group had abandoned it. Maybe then the Air Guard would take it themselves.

The dismantling of the Sky Skiffs was going rapidly. It was here that Carter explained his concerns. There were rumors that the Nemesis Army was behind the Sky Raiders being formed in the first place, and Rachek wanted to ensure there was nothing the Brass Mad Man could hold over them. As such, he had to ensure they weren't using any "Steam Tech." This seemed to allay Captain Anderson's fears, and the bald man issued an apology to the grizzled Wing Commander.

Captain Sonnethavilay was heading the engineers who were trying to develop a new rapid-assault hovercraft, but until they knew how the current ones really worked, they were having slow progress. There was a possibility that they could use Longbow Chasers for part of the design as well, but the officers agreed that it would be better to wait until they got authorization before trying that (or at least wait until they could surreptitiously get some wreckage from somewhere, like the war zone known as Siren's Call).

Captain Macnamara brought up a few pointers on how they could deal with payroll problems. Most of them involved taking the Air Guard mercenary, like the Sky Raiders, only with more regard for the law. He suggested that they take on a couple charity jobs first, to build up a reputation. Organizations like the Red Cross, and UNICEF could definitely use the support. Plus, once they established that they would remain loyal to the cause, they would remain loyal, providing support whenever the organizations figured they would need it. The collected captains actually figured that was a good idea, even going so far as to amend that they utilize that as part of their recruiting campaign.

Finally, they turned to Captain Carter. Carter had training outside of the Sky Raiders, like most of them, but his training was a lot darker and more intense than most of them would have cared to partake in. From it, he had deep knowledge about "behind-the-door" politics, as well as strategies and tactics the Air Guard could utilize to make themselves more unique and not just "Sky Raiders with a New Paint Job." A few of the other officers were a bit concerned at Carter's outside training and what that really meant about his loyalties, but Rachek waved their concerns aside.

"Carter's one of us. He promised me, and I believe him."

"I'm starting a new training regimen tomorrow," Carter finished explaining, almost as if he didn't hear or didn't care about what the other officers had to say, "We're going to be outnumbered for a long time, and we can't afford to lose any troops. We need to be able to handle whatever comes our way, and it's going to be a lot."

"Okay," Macnamara agreed, "Alright, we'll let the issue slide for now, Carter, but one of these days, you're going to have to explain to us just who you worked for."

"Trust me," the other Captain said as he started heading for the door, "When I tell you, it'll be too soon. They're the stuff of nightmares."

Yeah. And Thomas Edison used electricity to torture little green mountain men.

And the key from the kite?

IT OPENED THE GATEWAY TO HELL!

*Ominous Peal of Thunder*

[ QUOTE ]
THIS THREAD NEEDS MORE WANG!

[/ QUOTE ]

Lord Recluse: "Hey! That's what I need! More wang!"

Captain Mako: "Are you saying your current wang isn't enough?"

Lord Recluse: "Note to self... Have Mako tortured. Then... Get me his wang..."

Scirocco: *curls up into a little ball and holds his hands to his temples as he rocks back and forther* "Never leave the boat... Never get off the boat..."

--Atlas Park--

"And what are you doing in my apartment?" Roland asked the blonde woman sitting on his couch and playing game featuring a certain mustachioed main character and his taller, thinner brother, "You're not living here, too, are you?"

"What would give you a weird idea like that!?" Ms. Liberty asked as she paused the game, then grinned, "Hope?"

"Heh, no. Kip told me about his new living situation before I got back... But what are you doing in here, anyway?"

"I got your super to give me another key."

"That sucker for the blondes..." Grey growled as he hauled his groceries over to the kitchen, "It still doesn't explain why you're here. You must have a place of your own."

"I do..." she sounded distracted, but Roland was more occupied with his groceries, "I just... I don't have this system..."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can't just get one... You don't run a first-class hero organization and not have the income to handle it..." Roland looked up over the counter at her, his eyes quirked into a curious half-squint, "Do you?"

"Roland, I'd rather not talk about this now."

Having heard that tone of voice enough times from his mother, Roland knew to let the issue lie. If she wanted him to know, she would, but he had no right to try to pry it out of her. He wasn't her boyfriend or anything like that.

Once he was done packing away the groceries, he joined his guest in the living room. Tossing her an apple, he collapsed on the couch and relaxed the fifteen hour (and then some) trip out of his sore muscles.

"I don't care what anyone says," he grunted, "cruise control is a godsend."

"Rough trip?" she asked as her red-clad hero hopped on another opponent, smashing it into a flat pancake.

"No, surprisingly smooth, no storms or anything... Which brings up a good question... Something my friends and family in-city have been wondering. Do the War Walls block out the weather, too?"

"The worse kinds, and the snow that actually lands just isn't enough to really coat anything," Ms. Liberty shrugged, "It kind of sucks, but it beats having to worry about any villain group moving unimpeded through the zones."

Roland blinked as he considered how many times he watched Rikti ships fly easily through the downed energy fields of the War Walls. Of course, not everybody could keep the main reactor in the Terra Volta Nuclear Plant protected at all times, and sometimes the enemy was able to shut it down for a moment. Still, the massive walls did prevent the larger forces from mobilizing, and so far, the Rikti had been the only ones able to find a way to get through. It was a method that would exhaust the resources of any conventional force, so perhaps the massive constructions were still somewhat necessary. He hated to think what would have happened had an unimpeded force come to capture the refugees he helped rescue in Baumton.

He wound up making a tired "Hm" to signify that he agreed.

They sat quietly like that, him half asleep, her playing, until she finally got to a point she figured she could save and stop. Shutting down the console and the television, she turned to her host and frowned slightly.

"Roland... I don't mean to intrude..."

"It's okay," he half slurred, "I get why..."

"No... You don't... Before, yeah, I liked feeling a little more normal, but... After the fighting died down with the Rikti... Something happened... Something that's had me thinking more about... About my mother."

"Oh," Grey came more awake and sat up, "I see..."

"I can't talk about it... It's a secret entrusted to few. But you know the bulk of what it is I'm feeling. I mean, that's what you were busy with when we first met."

"Yeah."

"Well, I needed someplace... you know, neutral... to think about it... Or not."

"I get it, I get it," Roland nodded, "Hey, anytime you need a place to get away from it all, you know, you can always drop by here."

----------

--Boomtown--

"Okay, Sam," Randall grunted, "Think of this as a test of your capabilities."

Grey, Ezekiel Durj, and Samuel Bibbins were standing in the middle of a ring of androids that all looked similar to one-another. The group that numbered around fifty was currently standing in southern Baumton, now known as "Boomtown." In fact, it was the same site that Sheldon had tested the Ryat androids when he'd first built them.

"No structures or anything, I just want to see how fast you can clear debris at the moment," the large tanker growled, "If you do even half as well as any one of these machines, you'll be useful as a human face to put on the program."

"Program?" Zeke and Sam asked together.

"Yeah. I'm trying to expand Grey's Army into a more productive venture... One that rebuilds damaged places like this instead of just warring with the local denizens..."

"Like them?" Zeke asked as a group of Clockwork walked past in single file.

"Yeah."

"They won't be a problem," a voice issued from the communicator at Randall's hip, "Sixty-six, Twenty-four and I have been in communication, and they know we're even tougher now than the first time they dealt with us. They're either bringing in Big Babs, or they're holding back."

"Fantastic," Randall grunted back to Ryat99, "Get back down on the ground and we'll organize a search party. Get Ten and the others... I'll bring Zeke."

"You're not stickin' around?" Sam asked worriedly.

"You worked as a Carnival Strongman," Randy shrugged, "You're tough enough to handle walking erector sets."

After an hour of searching, Randall and company found nothing. A scan of the various channels indicated that Babbage was actually busy fighting in Skyway City with yet another group of heroes that had decided to put the hurt on the Clockwork at Synapse's behest. When they returned, a sizable block of wreckage had been moved and ordered into neat little piles.

"I'd like to say this could be useful," Randall grunted as he inspected the work, "But I'm fairly certain the local thuggery are going to just ruin it all, or the Clockwork are going to harvest it, and more wreckage is going to pile up... Still..."

He examined the work designated for Sam and the work designated for the various androids. He typed some math into his communicator and nodded satisfactorily.

"Okay, Sam, now we just gotta see how good you are with power tools and working on an actual site. I'll give you a call sometime soon. I'm certain Zeke and I are gonna have somethin' turn up."

"Thank you, sir," Sam strolled over and shook Randy's hand, his body barely slicked with sweat from the effort he exerted, "It was amazing... I could lift those girders..."

"You probably have what it takes to be a hero," Zeke suggested, "Why not take up that work?"

"I've had enough of that kind of work from the other end," Sam replied, "I got cut up, bludgeoned and all sorts of other horrible things... I really don't want to have to go through that again."

"That's understandable," Zeke nodded, then added in another, deeper voice, "Perhaps about the wisest thing I've ever heard."

"Howdy, Androm, nice of you to join us," Grey grunted at his gray-haired friend.

"No problem. It's nice to see how you sentient mammal-types go through a normal day... or something like it..."

"Well, we better pack up and head out... The natives are getting restless," an android (Ryat06) announced as it indicated the approaching Outcasts that seemed to glare angrily at them.

"Did a woman's voice just come out of that robot?" Sam whispered to Zeke on their way to the gate.

"They're androids, son," the older man replied gruffly, "Robots don't have minds. And the Ryat series is full of 'male' and 'female' types, even if they don't necessarily look the part."

"Weird..."

During the course of the Rikti War, Wing Commander Rachek directed and/or led his men in ambush attacks against the Rikti assaults, often sneaking up on them as they tried to skirt around the city. The ships often disappeared into trans-dimensional vortices, but often not without massive damage.

The few instances when heroes encountered the reformed Sky Raiders, there were some rough moments. A few Skiffs wound up getting shot down and a few of the soldiers found themselves arrested. It was because of this that Rachek asked for a meeting with General Aarons once the bulk of the hostilities between the Rikti and Earth died down.

"Hey there, Master Guns... I see old habits die hard."

Rachek held his salute stoically until the General returned it.

"Come on inside where we don't need the covers..." the General moved to open the door, but somehow the former Marine was faster.

"What're you thinking, General?" Rachek chuckled, "You know a General never has to open a door for himself."

"Quite right, quite right..."

There wasn't much to note about the offices afforded the General by the city. It was just like any other municipal office, and General Aarons was relegated to a distant corner office on the tenth floor.

"Damn pencil necks," Aarons growled in the elevator, "They never think I might want a floor office, just once. Having heroes fly in through the window on me is gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."

"You should see what it's like on my end," Rachek replied just as gruffly, "Only then we'd be doin' them a favor if we keeled over from surprise."

General Aarons's office was sparsely decorated, most of his favored office trinkets having been left in the Pentagon. However, he did have a nice big mahogany desk polished to a smooth finish.

"You don't have a Colonel or a Major working as your secretary, do you, General?" Rachek asked as he walked in after the older man.

"No, should I?"

"Maybe..." the former Sky Raider chuckled, "Don't think it would be too much of an ego-booster for him, though..."

"That's why we always choose butt-kissers for that role," Aarons made a similar chuckle as he removed his dress uniform jacket and placed it upon the coat hanger, "Now... Wing Commander Rachek... What brings you to my office?"

Anthony assumed a perfect position of attention before responding.

"I wish to redeem myself and my men, General."

Aarons assumed a similar, though more authoritative posture as he barked back at the Wing Commander.

"And what if you and your men are found unworthy?"

"That will be up to you and the Courts Martial, General."

Aarons blinked at the man who, just months earlier, had been a foe that he'd been working to eliminate.

"At ease, Master Guns... Take a seat."

"Aye, sir..." Rachek growled as he broke his pose and pulled a chair close so he could talk more easily.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm," Aarons explained, "in fact, it's quite refreshing to see someone who follows some form of military doctrine. I deal with heroes and hero-like people all day... Civilians doing work that they were never really meant for, but God or the Devil, or something decided they get powers equivalent to a small nuclear bomb, and whammo! You've got another caped crusader..."

"I never got it myself, either, sir. I mean, considering some of the heroes I've seen, where do you draw the line? What constitutes super powers? i've seen maniacs with assault rifles running loose, but so long as they've got that damn plastic card with their mug shot on it, they're free to wreak and wreck to their heart's desire..."

"Not exactly," General Z shrugged, "But I get your point. So... From what I read of the material you sent me, you want to join their ranks yourself?"

"Not exactly," Rachek grunted derisively, "I still have my worries about those vigilantes... But they seem to be keeping order, and some of the ones I've met turned out to be pretty cool. In any case, what I'm developing isn't exactly the 'Anti-Sky Raiders,' nor is it 'Super Rocket Men,' it's my boys and me tryin' to regulate a portion of the system that we once had a hand in messing up. We're tryin' to get back to our roots as Vigilance."

"Vigilance was a failure."

"That's because we had the wrong guy runnin' it," Anthony sighed, "Now... I don't know if I'm the right guy, but I can tell you that I'm damn tired of this 'playin' super pirate' business. The guys in my command are the guys that I trust and have been itchin' for somethin' true, somethin' real... Somethin' they can write home to momma about..."

"Okay, okay," Aarons held a hand up and grinned, "God, Rachek, you should really write some of that stuff down. I'm hearing you... Now... What do you offer? Is it true you have one of those flying warships the Sky Raiders have been threatening us with?"

"Yeah. The Thunder Nimbus. Tough ship."

"How's it been faring against the Rikti?"

Rachek cleared his throat, "Not as good as we could hope... It lacks maneuverability, and the aliens are getting pretty good at dodging our shots."

"How do you compensate?" Aarons flipped through some of the pages of the dossier on the subject at hand, "I mean, if they were able to outflank you, the bird wouldn't be in the sky, would she?"

"Heh... Some of my Skiff pilots have been coming up with some interesting harrying patterns. We don't have much of it, but what Rikti Steel we've got has gone a long way as a weapon material."

"Interesting... And your repairs?"

"Frankly, all of our logistics problems have been handled thus far with scavenging, scrounging, and dealing with what few Raider bases will still deal with us."

"They're still dealing with you?" Aarons was confused, "Even though Duray has an order out for your head?"

"Some of them are just scared... Others feel I'm a loon, and still others just don't care. They duck their heads into the proverbial sand and ignore the problems, prejudices and inconsistencies wrapped tightly around them, all in the name of profit. What's worse is that they know this, and don't do anything to change it. But they know me, they trust me, and they still work with me."

"That won't last much longer," Aarons mused.

"And that's why I'm here," Rachek gestured with a nod and his hands raised in the air, "I remembered you were the guy that ran Vigilance... I was hoping you'd like to run the Air Guard."

General Aarons quirked an eyebrow at the grizzled old man. The former Wing Commander looked back, his face frank. It wasn't necessarily a strange request, but it was a near impossible decision to make. Aarons' record was already heavily tarnished by his history with the Sky Raiders, and he had only recently been able to redeem himself by exposing a conspiracy of corrupt bureaucrats that intended to utilize the mercenary pirates for their own ends. Throwing his support behind this possible mad man wasn't going to help him.

That didn't stop the General from feeling regret at having to say so.

"I understand," Anthony Rachek growled as he leaned back in his chair, "Well... I won't waste anymore of your time, General. I understand you're quite busy with this whole 'Traditionalist Peace Talks' nonsense..."

"I take it you disapprove," General Aarons rose to shake Rachek's hand before he left.

"A little, yeah," the old man's grip was rough and firm, as an old warrior's handshake should be, "I have trouble trusting the aliens. Still... It's nice to see that some kind of breathing room can be had from them."

"Quite right. Quite right," Aarons broke the handshake and returned to his desk, shuffling papers for his next piece of business, "Good day, General."

"I'm not an officer, sir," Rachek replied at the door, "I'm just the man who's getting the ball rolling."

As the door closed, Aarons stared at it for a few moments.

"We'll see in time, Master Guns Rachek."

Grey's Army

My main characters and adventures they just can't have in-game. A bit rough at the beginning, but it gets easier to read later on as my style refines itself.

Brutal Warriors Order

A supplemental storyline to Grey's Army. Usually more combat oriented, as such, the storyline suffers slightly. Come here if you like the idea of super-powered characters wailing on each other.

Has some graphic moments (like a regenerator getting his arm hacked off and it crawls over to him to reattach itself).

The Air Guard

A story about Sky Raiders who break off from their villain group and reform as a group dedicated to the ideals of Vigilance. Their advantage? A cantankerous commander and a flying warship that could take out the Hamidon if it could ever get past the War Walls...

Sadly, these aren't broken up into individual chapters like I have them in other places (Lohr's page, Vorac's page...), and I just don't know if I'll ever have the patience again to try to edit and transfer them again.

--Mid-Atlantic: Roughly 15 Miles Off Coast of Talos Island--

It wasn't so much a storm, but there was lightning and rain, and that was enough. The water was surprisingly calm for such weather, however, and that suited the boat's pilot just fine. The lightning flashed once more, and he could see his destination.

A lonely derrick, converted into a small base.

Something was wrong, though. There were no lights... No signs at all of life within the structure.

Where were the Brutal Warriors?

Brother Ringo peered through his porthole worriedly. It had been an arduous trip across the Atlantic. It was difficult to find friendly ports and "Air Guard" fortresses to restock supplies in, or to dodge the air and submersible traffic between the Etoile Isles and Paragon City.

"Please don't make me have to go there, guys," Mauthe's arson expert almost whimpered as he pulled the ship up to the nearest pillar, "I can B.S. my way past Arachnos officers, but those F.C. guys have got bugs way up their butts..."

----------

--Independence Port--

The tugboat pulled into the port the day after the storm. It's seemingly solitary occupant, the pilot, was busy combing his hair back as he coasted to the dock. The harbor foreman shouted at him as he approached and Brother Ringo opened the window to shout out to the man.

"I'm out of gas and my radio's broke!" the Etoile native hollered, "Come on, man! Gimme a break! I was stuck out there in that thunder and lightnin' all night!"

"You were out there by yourself!?"

"Well... No..." Ringo pulled a lever and the hatch to the sleeping quarters opened.

A massive man in a heavily scuffed black leather trench coat emerged from below decks with a thick, heavy rope. Brother War glowered to the foreman before tossing the cable to the man on the dock.

"Much obliged," his deep voice reverberated between the two as the foreman helped guide the tugboat to its mooring.

Ringo and War were the only two occupants of the vessel, though they used their birth names (or what Ringo thought was War's birth name; no one could tell anything about that massive, grim man) to identify themselves. Unfortunately, the Freedom Corps soldiers approaching were a clear indication that their Etoile Isles tags had been identified.

----------

"Let's go over this again," the Warden sighed as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "You guys are here, looking for heroes?"

"Yes," Ringo leaned back in his chair, exasperated, "Look, Ma'am, you're just wasting our time... Yours as well... If you would just run a scan of our identification, this should all be cleared up!"

"I will scan your I.D. when I have you safely behind bars, villain!" the Warden barked.

"Are you so bored, that you have to make work for yourself, picking on innocent shippers?" a young man's voice asked from the doorway.

"Draven!" Brother Ringo shouted and moved to stand.

He winced visibly when the handcuff keeping him to the chair proved to be tougher than his wrist.

"Ow..."

"Sit down, Ringo!" the Warden shouted, "Draven Erickson... What are you doing here?"

"Their boss called me... Mauthe just found our number here, guys," Draven produced a key and started unlocking the two minions of the errant mastermind from their shackles, "Sorry about all the trouble."

"Hey, it's good to know everything's alright, man!" Ringo clapped the red-jacketed scrapper on the shoulder.

"How did you get a key for our handcuffs?" the Warden stood, dumbstruck, and within a second of tapping into her psychic abilities to strike down this insolent "hero."

"I hang out with a lot of different girls," Draven replied with a smug grin, "Pretty ones, who like to be reminded of it. Sometimes, they let me keep souvenirs after... well..."

"We should go," Brother War rumbled as he was released, "Ma'am, we shall be under this individual's care until our time to leave this city."

"Not if I have anything to say about-"

"Then check this writ," Draven produced his communicator and the Warden glared at the writing.

Her face changed to shock when she looked up at Draven.

"This can't be right..."

"It is," the scrapper replied, "Now you can return to your normal duties, Warden."

-----------

--B.W.O. Staging Area: Exact Location Unkown--

They emerged from the portal to the sounds of intense fighting. Two warriors were locked in combat a little further into the warren, and Draven was leading the two soldiers right to the source of the noise.

In the very next chamber was a massive stone slab. It was a squarish sort of thing, with a stone pillar at each corner. Ringo arched an eyebrow at the design. It reminded him of a wrestling ring. The fact that two people were currently fighting in the middle of it, while a guy in a striped black and white armored suit refereed, no less, only served to strengthen the appearance.

King Slater was dueling Dirty Ice while the other Brutal Warriors and a few scattered heroes looked on. Ringo could recognize Ashen Roast, Blizzard Front, and even the Freedom Corps Agents, Wild and Sanders. He wondered briefly if there was any money involved in this before Slater caught a heavy stone mallet head with his face.

There was a resounding cheer through the chamber as the referee separated the combatants and asked his brother if he was okay.

"You're sure, Dust?" Dale's voice emitted from the speakers on his helmet as King nodded, "Okay..."

Ringo and War looked to each other as they noticed the blood dribbling down the tanker's face. Draven gestured for them to find a place to sit, and they climbed up on the rickety wooden balconies for the better view.

Slater marched slowly into the middle of the ring. The rules were simple. First one knocked out of commission or out of the ring lost, then the next contender would move in. That meant Matt couldn't run away, not that the brute wanted to...

Dirty Ice darted close, swinging his heavy, stone wrapped mallet hard for Slater's chest. King Slater caught the weapon with the Black Mauler, swinging it back to cuff the brute across the face. Blood spurted from the blonde brute's mouth and he was spun violently around as he crumpled to his knees. Matt was cross-eyed, and before Dale could separate the two, King cuffed his opponent on the back of the head, finishing him off.

Matt disappeared before his face hit the ground, ported to a medical facility built into the side of the entrance chamber. King Slater had won yet another round, but his victory was short-lived. Project Whirlwind hopped from his perch on one of the viewing balconies, landed on a pillar, and back-flipped into the ring. He then spun around and blasted Slater with a face full of lightning.

Dustin gritted his teeth and growled. He then raised his hand toward his opponent, and squeezed it into a fist. A hand of stone grew out of the stone ring's surface and grabbed a hold of the defender-class hero. It then slid across the surface of the slab, bringing Whirlwind closer to King Slater until he was within striking distance. Slater dispatched his opponent with a maneuver known throughout professional wrestling as a "choke slam." Whirlwind lost his breath as his back slapped against the surface of the ring and he was teleported to the medical facility.

A series of spikes hurled through the air and plunged into Slater's back. Bull-Thistle hopped into the ring and pressed whatever advantage he could against his stone-encrusted foe. It wasn't enough, and Bull-Thsitle wound up meeting a similar fate as Dirty Ice, with the plant matter being torn from his face. It was strange to see there was a human face under there.

It was barbaric, but it was viscerally entertaining as well.

Ragin' James turned out to be the one to finally defeat Slater. He came into the fight swinging, and never relented. Slater's Mauler made a cracking sound as it struck the brute's forearm, but didn't break the bone. James fought Slater back and back, the two trading blows, Slater slowly being worked toward the edge. At the edge of the ring, however, the tanker refused to budge, and being rooted as he was, James wasn't likely to move him. Apparently, his backing away had been a ruse. That was fine by Rage, however, as he ducked down under a swipe aimed for his head and popped back up with a vicious uppercut that smashed Slater out of his rooting and cast him into the spectators made up of the already fallen.

James's victory was short-lived, however. Solo Stryker emerged from behind with a double-hammer-fist wrapped in thick, seemingly solid darkness that almost knocked the young rogue off the side of the ring. Rage dropped to one knee, but whirled around, catching his new opponent with a fist to the groin. Solo crumpled, and James grabbed him by the ankle, swung him about, and tossed Stryker over the side.

"Anybody else?" the skull-clad warrior bellowed.

"I've seen enough," Agent Wild shouted before anyone could answer, "You boys may get a kick out of this, but I've got other things to do than keep an eye on you. You're done for the day, alright?"

The Brutal Warriors looked to each other and nodded. Draven tossed a gaudy looking belt to Rage and smirked.

"Next time," he chuckled, "You're mine."

----------

"So, the dropship went down," Solo finished his long explanation of where the Brutal Warriors had been, "And nobody cared. We didn't have the money to get a new one... And we couldn't get insurance for a 'flying death machine,' so there was nothing forthcoming to replace it."

The ring now served as their resting area, and the various individuals were sprawled out wherever they could rest comfortably. Ringo and War sat before Solo, who was sitting in the middle of the ring, holding a "green pack" to his hip. Of course, the recent injuries the meta-humans had sustained were hardly the concerns of Mauthe's soldiers.

"That sucks, man!" Ringo shouted.

"The last time we were in that base..." James muttered drunkenly, "We were getting Bioserj out along with whatever perishables and electronics we could carry on a Vanguard transport. At least they gave us an inch."

"So, what are you guys going to do now?" War asked over his whiskey glass.

"We're giving up the transport business," Solo grunted, "We were barely making any headway with it, anyway."

"Besides," Draven muttered, "We're getting all sorts of offers from Rachek's Air Guard to assist with his airship designs and support his troops. He says he's been running into some weird traffic coming out of Europe, and wants our help handling it."

"So, essentially, you're quitting because you have no ship and you don't know what to do now?" Ringo asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Essentially, yeah," Draven muttered, "We haven't the means, nor the inclination to reproduce the dropship, in any incarnation."

"Well, that's no reason to quit!" Ringo shouted, "Guys... I don't think you understand this, but there's a significant population that needs your help! I mean, why do you think Mauthe sent War and me up here? Why do you think he called you guys? You know, we can't survive on island fruit alone!"

"I thought you guys had a farm..." Psycho13 said as he stroked his chin.

"Well, yeah, but farms need to be resupplied. You guys were primarily how we intended to do that."

"How the Hell did you get here?" Solo asked, "Why can't you just use your boat?"

"Getting here cost money we can't afford to lose," Ringo grunted, "Mauthe's in the process of coordinating with Longbow and the Air Guard to jury-rig some operations and make them look like heists and hits... It's all effort for a show of force that we really don't need to be doing, you got me? Now, if you guys can't support us, then we're going to have to run more of those ops to stay afloat, and with every one we rig up, we stand even more chance of being found out. I tell ya, the peeps down at Sharkhead are getting mighty suspicious about Sea Witch still hanging around!"

"I think I get your point..." Solo grumbled.

"Look..." the pyrotechnics expert rubbed his temples, "I love you guys, you know that. You've got a look on life that's just plain weird, and it's fantastic. Now... I have to go back to my boss with an answer, and I'm begging you to put your out-of-the-box thoughts back out of the box, where they belong, and come up with a solution better than 'I quit.'"

The group sat in silence for a few moments. Ringo was lucky that they'd had their fill of fighting for the day, because Solo didn't like being told what to do. Finally, the Referee cleared his throat and raised his hand.

"I have an idea... Show me your boat."

----------

--Independence Port: Brother Ringo's Boat in Drydock--

"Mother-" Ringo bit off the curse as he looked at the ticket he'd been given, "Damn goose-steppers... They keep finding a way to [frig] with you."

"It's even signed 'Warden Shaw,'" Brother War chuckled, "I think she likes you, Ringo."

"Shut the Hell up," the shorter man growled.

"Yes..." Dale Simms shouted after inspecting the vessel, "I can work with this... Alright, let's pay the fine and get her back in the water. We gotta get to the base and scavenge out some of the generators..."

"You're turning my boat into your transport?" Ringo asked dubiously.

"Yeah. What's the problem?"

"It's... It's the only thing I have left of my father."

Dale pressed his lips together and nodded, but his posture remained a clear indication that his mind was unchanged.

"You don't necessarily have to leave the boat, Ringo," the defender finally said after a few seconds of consideration, "I don't think any of us know how to pilot one properly, anyway."

Sheldon is the technology expert of Grey's Army. He was taught everything he knew by his father, Hector Wallace, who is currently a military technology adviser. After the First Rikti War, the two of them worked together to dismantle and scavenge Rikti technology for the military, sometimes even reverse-engineering it.

When Sheldon came to paragon City, he wanted to expand his mind and repertoire. He also had in mind an idea for a new kind of android, and immediately set to work on it upon registering with Grey's Army. Utilizing pieces of every kind of robot and machine in the city currently used by villain groups, Sheldon was able to build the Ryat series (named after his grandfather). However, the bulk of the series was placed into storage upon completion of the surveillance of the two left free. Their story will be explained later.

After making the Ryats, Sheldon moved on to mutating his pet gerbil, a plucky little critter named Felix. He called the resulting "mini-bear" a "Gudar," which is apparently an animal with as-of-yet unknown longevity and resilience. The little bugger even took down a Fake Nemesis robot that somehow invaded the Grey's Army base when it grew frustrated with Kipland Durj. Shortly thereafter, Felix provided some of his mutagenic diet to a lab mouse that had somehow wound up in the base, mutating it into an even smaller subtype of Gudar (as-yet unnamed) that Sarah called Katie.

Toward the middle of 2007, Sheldon's experiments wound up catching the attention of the Clockwork King. "C.K." wound up conscripting the inventor, specifically because of his ability to utilize even Clockwork robots, to help him construct a new, sleeker, more powerful body for himself. At first, Sheldon resisted, until C.K. threatened to cut off his hands and cauterize the stumps. Sheldon relented, calling the machine "The Inevitable." When C.K. turned his new body against Blue Steel, Sheldon got in contact with his two main Ryat androids, Ryat66 and Ryat99, and they were able to end the situation.

However, Sheldon wound up suspended from hero work. He was unable to use his Gravity Gauntlets or even invent new devices for other heroes or heroines to use. He could barely negotiate a contract for the Ryat androids with Portal Corporation, but he wasn't allowed to assist or direct the machines.

Then he was kidnapped. During a massive assault across the city and the widespread mayhem that ensued, an Arachnos Flyer dropped into the middle of the city and Sheldon was knocked out by Operative Grillo himself.

It turned out that Grillo knew Sheldon's father when the two of them were younger. Whether they were colleagues or competitors was left ambiguous to the young inventor, but it was made clear that the two men weren't hostile toward each other.

The Arachnos Operative had heard about Sheldon's situation through various spies, and thought he could use the genius that was being put to waste. The young man was placed in a workshop, and for a test, was given one of Black Scorpion's blasters to work with. Unlike the brute's normal scientific crew, Sheldon wasn't lashed to his desk and harassed every couple of minutes. Using his relative freedom, Wallace was able to construct simplified versions of his Gravity Gauntlets (Gravity Gloves) and all the parts necessary to build a pair of energy rifles he used to fight his way out of the Grandville fortress.

He was fortunate Grey's Army was invading the Rogue Isles to find him. He likely wouldn't have escaped on the ferry if Randall's crew hadn't commandeered it.

Upon his return to Paragon City, he was reinstated as a hero and his work has been returned to researching and reverse-engineering Rikti technology and working with Portal Corporation. Like much of the rest of Grey's Army, he took much of the last months of the 2007 year off.

Basic Inventor

Sheldon's standard outfit. He wears this because it's a minimalist uniform. Working parts can't get caught on the shorter sleeves, and the jacket holds close to his body.

Field Outfit

Sometimes, being an inventor means you can look cool. Sheldon usually wears this outfit when he wants to conduct field experiments with his inventions.

Lab outfit

Yet another lab outfit, Sheldon wears this if he's working more with chemicals.

His wearing white doesn't make much sense, considering the amount of grease and oil he works around.

When Mattock was born, his mother died. His father, Marcus, took it upon himself to raise his son in a manner he felt would ensure his son's survival if even the worst should befall him.

Contacting a man by the name of Ken Atomoyo, a man he met over the course of his life in a situation he was loathe to explain, Marcus began his son's training on three fronts.

From his own teaching, he explained to Mattock the lessons he felt every man should know. Honor, respect, emotion... All in the ways he believed a man was supposed to feel and understand what he was feeling.

Ken Atomoyo taught Mattock martial arts. Specifically, he taught him what he knew of Northern Praying Mantis, Japanese Aikido, Judo (because the little punk dealt with enough brawlers as it was), and a little bit of Dim Mak (in his later years, once he was certain Matt could handle it). He never explained whom he'd learned Dim Mak from, he just said that it had been a difficult path just to be accepted for the lessons. When it came to learning Kenjutsu, however, the two of them had to learn together. It was a peculiar training process, learning how to wield a katana, but they developed a style that blended what Ken already knew about other martial arts with what they studied about the wielding of the blade.

Finally, Mattock's third front of learning came from school. Mark knew that the boy just wouldn't get anywhere without knowing something about how the world worked, and there just wasn't anywhere else he was going to learn about social structures, history, biology, chemistry, mathematics, or anything else that was necessary in life. Mattock also met people that would wind up being lifelong friends, like Cedric Grey and Paul Jared (P.J.) Hollis (who runs an auto body shop in Kingdale).

After high school, Mattock was abroad, seeing what life was like across the nation. Like Marcus before him, he drifted through the United States on his motorcycle, eventually spending his longest amount of time in Sacramento, California, working for a motorcycle repair shop. He wound up having to leave the city, however, after a rogue crime boss and his entire entourage were mysteriously slaughtered by someone wielding a katana.

Mattock was about halfway through Nevada when the Rikti attacked, and fought his way home. It was a long and arduous battle, and he was a surprisingly pivotal force in a few minor skirmishes. By the time he made it home, however, the war was over.

Like many others from Kingdale, Matt helped in reconstructing his hometown before moving over to Paragon City. He currently shares an apartment with his friend,Cedric. He spends his days working in Lou's body shop, trying to prevent anymore problems from the Clockwork as well as protect the mechanic and his family, but the scrapper can only be so effective against so multitudinous an army. Fortunately, Matt has been capable of preventing lower level heroes from having to face the more dangerous "Psychic Clockwork" that have increased in numbers over the past year.

Modern Street Samurai

Matt's basic outfit. The sword he wields here is the same one his mentor, Ken Atomoyo, gave to him as a gift upon graduating from high school. He didn't explain where he'd gotten the sword from, and Matt's come to learn that the mild enchantment upon it is a lot more potent than he was first led to believe.

Matt's gotten away from wearing enchanted war paints. This is largely because of two things. One, he's run out of the stuff. Two, the paints seem to have left a residual enchantment upon him. Grey's Army's wizard, Cory Simmons, has been training him to harness that energy to maintain his speed and skill to dodge and deflect incoming blows, even bullets and other projectiles.

Training Outfit

Matt's training jumpsuit. It's loose-fitting and light. On top of that, he wears a pair of stylish red-and-black basketball shoes. They don't necessarily match the design of the outfit, but he couldn't really find any that did.

Desperate Biker

Matt dons this outfit when he feels ready to get mean. He also wields a rusty blade he got from some wreckage in Boomtown to fend off some Lost and Council soldiers. He liked how it looked to beat people with the old jagged piece of metal, and it also seemed to terrify some of his foes.

"How ironic do you think it is?"

Jordan White stopped his jog and turned to the elderly man sitting on the bench. He was calmly reading a newspaper talking about the victory of Vanguard over the Rikti. Despite the victory almost half a year ago, the Rikti still bombarded the two main cities of the world every so often. Well... They were the main cities in the sense of super-powered politics.

Jordan looked around the street, and, seeing nobody else, he addressed the old man.

"What's ironic, sir?"

"A man named White being black," the old man chuckled.

Jordan narrowed his eyes. How did this man know who he was? It didn't make sense. Not unless...

"Sir, I think you have me confused for someone else..." he said cautiously as he prepared to return to his jog.

"Sit down, Jordan," the Center said crisply, yet calmly.

"I..."

"Please."

Archon White, wearing a running outfit, sat down next to his boss, the enigmatic Center.

"How has life been treating you?" the old man asked as he sipped from a thermal container, "Good, I hope."

"Uh... yes sir..."

"I suppose you're wondering how I knew you're of African descent..."

That was actually Jordan's last concern. He was more worried about this old Italian man having goons put a bullet in his head.

Just because of race.

"Oh, pishaw," Mr. Tirelli waved off the concerns he could see clearly on his subject's face, "If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't come to see you. We are an army, after all. Besides, I'm not a Nazi. I don't believe any of that 'master race' trite. If I did, I wouldn't have needed to change the Fifth Column, you understand?"

Paolo sighed as he looked at another article in the newspaper. White noticed for the first time that there really wasn't anybody else on the street. That was pretty odd for Independence Port.

"Requiem, on the other hand, would prefer we stick to the old standards. That's why he's not running things."

"Sir, what is this about?"

"It's about the future, my dear boy," the Center sighed, "I'm an old man. My time, regardless of how well I can extend it, is definitely near its end. Unfortunately, enemies within the organization have noticed this, and some would like to expedite it."

"Enemies, sir?"

Jordan rattled off the problems in his head. There was the animosity that was clearly evident between Requiem and the Center, but that was about it...

"As you can tell, Jordan, I have placed within your ranks a very select group of soldiers. Simply put, they are all soldiers who are unaffiliated, in any way, with the Fifth Column."

"Why?"

"Call it a hunch. Rumblings, scuttlebutt and the rumor mill have me concerned... I want you and your unit ready for when I have need of you. Just keep an eye out for my signal. Understand?"

Jordan nodded. It was strange to know that he was being held in such high regard by his organizations boss. It was strange that... The Center was gone!

Jordan jumped to his feet and looked about worriedly. People walked by calmly, but took notice of the muscular man who looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Are you okay?" a young woman asked.

"I..." Jordan started to notice he was feeling cold, "No... I guess not. I better get back to my jog..."

"Strange weather to be dressed so sparsely..." the woman remarked, "Are you a hero?"

"Uh... I can't really say," the Archon grinned, "But don't worry ma'am. With people like me around, you and your child have no need to fear."

It felt weird that he actually meant it...

----------

"Sam Bibbins?" Randall asked the large man who sat on the other side of the desk from him, "Did I wrong you a while back and you're here for revenge? You look like a Carnie."

He had met the big man in Atlas Park. Mr. Bibbins had said he wanted to be sure they met somewhere safe for both of them, as he had been having some issues with a particular group and wanted to be certain there'd be a plethora of heroes available to handle any situation that came up. When Randall suggested they go to his base of operations, Sam was, to say the least, a bit flabbergasted. It wasn't every day that a hero offered to take someone to their secret headquarters.

Of course, the humble appearance of the base put a bit of a damper on Sam's awe. He was still a bit surprised with the technology available to the small super group, but he still had expected more...

"Actually, sir... I was," Sam replied, "I... uh... Well... I used to work for a software firm... My then-girlfriend took me to a show, and the next thing I remember is that big metal mask falling off my face after that little guy shot it off."

"Ouch," Randy growled as he leaned back in his chair, "So... What do you want from me?"

"Uh... Well, sir... I'd like a job, if you please."

Randy regarded the large man with a narrow-eyed glare. Sam frowned lightly as he realized he was being scrutinized.

"You want a job?"

"Well, I hear you run a construction firm..."

"A small one," the tanker grunted, "And I barely make enough as it is to fund what I've been doing here. A lot of this has been from funds and allowances gained from my hero work... The rest was scrounged."

"Well... You see... The thing is..." Sam got frustrated and stood to leave, "I'm sorry... I'm wasting your time."

"No, wait..." Randy stood and tapped his finger on the desk, "Sit back down."

Sam resumed his seat.

"Now," Grey grunted as e settled back into his recliner, "Let me get this straight. You want to work for me... Doing construction?"

"Well... I tried getting in with my old company, or the companies that developed from it after I found out it went under... But it seems I either have a reputation for just 'flaking out,' or I just look too much like the guys that dunked their heads in the toilets during high school."

Randy laughed at that one.

"So... I've been trying to get my life back together... The authorities weren't able to get me any of the money I'd lost to the Carnival, and I've been working odd jobs and fast food while I took lessons..."

"In carpentry," the tnaker finished, "Why?"

"Well, I could never pull it off before," Sam gestured to his overdeveloped body, "But now... Well..."

Randall shrugged.

"You don't gotta be a huge guy to be a contractor. I just am a huge guy that is one."

"Well... I just.... I just need a job that will give me a better sense of purpose... So I don't feel like a piece of crap around my girlfriend..."

Grey barked a laugh, "Let me guess, another former Carnie?"

"Yes, actually. Melissa... I... I never thought I could get a girl who looks like her, sir... She even took up modeling! She's been paying the rent and... Well... I feel so worthless..."

"Okay," Randy rubbed his right temple, "I get it. You don't feel like a man. Considering how much testosterone must be coursing through your body at any given moment, the desire to smash someone's head through a wall must be overbearing."

"You have no idea," Sam sighed.

"Well... I'll see what I can do..." Randy stood to shake the other man's hand.

"I know a lot of the work is best learned on-the-job," Sam explained, "But I'm a quick-learner. I'm telling you, sir, I can help you around the city."

Randall nodded. It was an unusual concept to him. He wondered at how this young man hadn't been driven insane, at how he was able to retain his superhuman strength, and even at the possibilities this could hold.

"Strange," he rumbled as Bibbins disappeared in the blue energy field that served as the general-purpose portal, "This could be a new turn for All-Seasons Construction. Rehab for former criminals..."

Cedric came to Paragon City after his honorable discharge from the Marines and his work with helping restore Kingdale was finished. He wanted to try his hand at being a real hero and dropped into the registration office with nothing but his cammies, boots, and an old physical training shirt, with some chains wrapped around his arms and torso for effect.

When asked about his defensive capabilities, he shouted (convincingly) that he was invincible. Considering the fact that he was the only one out of his unit to escape the Rikti War unscathed, despite his constantly leading the charge into the alien ranks, there was possibly some truth to the concept.

However, this was unacceptable by hero standards, and Cedric had to find a proper assault. He left the office, not disheartened, but curious as to what he would utilize.

Then he ran across a Warrior transporting a batch of artifacts to the Hollows. One such artifact was a magic axe. Cedric initially said that he just needed a weapon, but the truth of the matter was that he felt a deep connection to this weapon. He unceremoniously sucker-punched the Warrior and claimed the weapon as his own. He ran into the registration office, shouting and whooping that the Axe would be his weapon in the fight for justice.

It turned out that the weapon was the very same weapon as his Praetorian, Cedric the Gray. Gray had conquered a patch of War Earth, ruling a scattering of tribes next to the easternmost Great Lake of the northwestern continent of War Earth. In a world full of constant strife, such an endeavor is a surprising accomplishment indeed. Gray was a respected warrior, despite his method of using black magic and his soul-draining battleaxe to hold his rule.

Over time, Cedric the Gray got it into his head that he could take Battle Maiden for his bride, perhaps even claim her territories and power for his own. With time, he surmised, he could probably have taken the entire northwestern continent and some of the southwestern one, if he could just win the duel with the Praetorian of Valkyrie.

He failed, and she chopped off his head with his own axe. As his soul was drawn into the weapon, he uttered an incantation (yes, his lips were still moving, and his soul imparted the words). The enchantment altered the effects of the axe. Battle Maiden received no benefit from the axe's final victim, and the weapon would slowly drain the energy from Cedric the Gray's soul until there was nothing left. Only then could the weapon claim a new victim.

Battle Maiden didn't know this, however, and she brought the weapon with her to duel her foe, Valkyrie. She had heard about Gray's weapon, and how the slightest touch from its blade would spell doom for his victims. However, when she hacked through Valkyrie's armor, she was surprised at the laughter she heard echoing through her head. Valkyrie defeated her Praetorian counterpart, and when Battle Maiden fled, the axe was left behind to work its way into Cedric Grey's possession.

Once the terrible influence on Cedric's mind was explained, he opted for a new weapon. The offices of M.A.G.I. provided a mystical axe that had much the same effects as the Soul Drinker, and worked extensively to try to prevent Cedric the Gray's soul from being eradicated so they could gain even more intelligence on War Earth and its relationship to Praetorian Earth.

The studies came to a crashing halt, however, when Cedric brought down a Malta Group Black Helicopter. The vehicle wasn't like normal "stealth" troop carriers, however. It was a team-wiping, hero-slaying flying death machine. Cedric took it out of the sky by throwing his replacement axe into its main rotor while other heroes worked on recovering their energy from a sapper bombardment.

After the ordeal and the heroes, led by Ms. Liberty, cleaned the situation up, Cedric made a B-line for the M.A.G.I. office. Azuria herself provided him with his Praetorian's weapon, now with an enchantment that removed its soul-draining capabilities and prevented the soul from being devoured by the weapon.

That didn't stop Gray from trying to influence his counterpart. However, now that Grey knew about the influence, he could better combat it. Many times, Cedric the Gray has been frustrated with the seemingly arbitrary decisions of what must truly be a mad tanker.

During a massive Praetorian invasion, Cedric did his Praetorian a favor. This was even after having to fight an apparitional projection of him on a lightning ringed rooftop for the very right to keep his own body. Grey won the battle, even with Gray's own axe, and imprisoned his interdimensional "brother" again, but instantly turned his sights to Battle Maiden.

Interrupting a duel between Valkyrie and her Praetorian self, Cedric explained coolly that he just needed to take this opportunity. Dueling the axe and crossbow-wielding lunatic, he wound up finally defeating her by planting a Police Drone bug on her face, which promptly got her zapped to the Ziggurat.

Cedric's relationship with his Praetorian's soul has since been cordial, if rocky at times.

Nutty Woodsman

Since gaining the respect of his alternate, Cedric has branched out from using just the magic battleaxe. Here, he uses a logging axe to cut through inhuman foes and clonk human baddies over the head and incapacitate them.

Altered Flak Jacket

Gravity Armor

After seeing the lengths villains go to in Paragon City, Cedric decided that he would indeed have need of a suit of armor of some kind. He decided to go with a technological contraption at first, but later asked friends in his old unit to smuggle him his old flak jacket. Why they kept the ratty old thing is beyond anyone, but Cedric got Sheldon Wallace to put a lot of the same enhancements into the flak jacket as he did the experimental armor.

These two outfits actually pull incoming rounds and blows into Cedric's torso instead of his face. They are highly durable, and the gravity distortion has an inertia dampening effect, mitigating damage from a variety of sources. The axe is a specially designed, lightweight weapon that enables Cedric to draw it quickly and dart rapidly between foes.

The Golden Conqueror

This is Cedric's "concession" to his Praetorian counterpart. It's a suit of "medieval style" armor, painted gold.

No... Nobody knows why he's wearing the shades.

He also wields his Praetorian's axe while wearing this outfit, and tends to suit up in this style when he feels like he's going into a pretty dangerous situation.

Sarah married Joe Durnan in October, early October, actually. Their ceremony was framed by a radiant hue of multi-colored leaves. Like her mother, she kept her maiden name and also took her husband's last name.

Now that they've returned to Paragon, she continues her efforts to hone her psychic powers and develop a more unified front between the PPD and the heroes. In between bouts of this, she's been trying to make her husband more social by taking him out at night to various "hero-chic" establishments such as (but not limited to) Pocket D.

Snuffy and Katie

Despite Sheldon's warnings to keep the various critters he's developed (both intentionally and accidentally), Sarah still loves taking Felix and Katie out on the town with her to hunt down bad guys. Though Felix is a pudgy little death machine on his own, Katie looks relatively harmless.

Appearances are, however, deceiving. The cute little mutant mouse is surprisingly durable, and has proven that her claws are as sharp as razors. Of course, it only takes a little cuddling and tickling to subdue her, but the villains are not ones to engage in such behavior.

This outfit is one of Sarah's more conservative ones. Her The wings on her back aren't "biological," but are instead a set of specially designed feathered faux-wings that Icon's been trying to get off the ground. Sarah's been among the many heroes and heroines trying to demonstrate that they work to enhance the image of many kinds of outfits.

Sarah and Ni

Ni still hangs around Sarah and her husband. As the loyal housecat, and the one with the most experience as a free-roamer among humans, he shelters and teaches the two newcomers to the whole group. Felix and Katie are attentive to the Tom's lessons, and have the utmost respect for the animal that, under normal conditions, would have tried to eat them a year ago (well, Katie, anyway...).

This is a general-purpose outfit for Sarah. It suits her for clubbing, dinner, relaxing in the house, hero work, or going about her daily business such as getting groceries or visiting friends and family.

Snuffy and Felix

Yes, she looks sexy in this outfit, but don't get too close. It's for Joe, not for you. Sarah brings Felix along while wearing this outfit for a reason, and that reason is that the little "bear-cat" has a tendency to keep unwanted individuals (usually oppressive and/or inebriated guys) at bay. She usually only wears it to clubs, and she's had a nasty tendency of running into unwanted attention whenever Joe goes for refreshments while she's on the dance floor.

"Can't they see my ring?" she asks onlookers as the tiny bear tears at the faces of those that decide to get much too close, "I mean, it's not like he didn't get fair warning... And with how he was acting, he deserves the face-mangling."

Apparently, DJ Zero has tended to agree, as those that wound up using his med-porters to deal with the wounds Felix has inflicted upon them have found themselves unceremoniously booted out of the club, with a notice indicating how long they've been suspended.

How am I supposed to listen to this?

I'm not familiar with .rar's

Nevermind... I found an unpackaging software.

Coolness! Snuffy has new music to dance to!

((Oh thank God... Whatever God is, I thank YOU!
...
You speak lies, BWERP!))

--En Route to Rikti Earth--

Sheldon nodded at the Khelari's explanation. He suddenly wished he hadn't glossed over those biochemistry texts he'd used to mutate his pet. He disliked missing an opportunity to be fascinated.

Instead, he absorbed himself in memorizing Acid's work at the controls. He couldn't necessarily accomplish as expert piloting as the alien life form, but he wouldn't be completely lost if anything bad happened.

It beat remembering that there was a void out there that may or may not tear him apart should he wind up in it... It all relied on particular factors that always made him queasy to think about whenever he researched it. The only thing worse, in his mind, was drowning, but there was still a modicum of control there...

"I think I get what you're saying," he finally intoned, "About the 'One Place, One Time' rule. I'm not sure about how you accomplish it, though, and I guess, should you ever choose to, you'll explain when you're ready to."

----------

-Rikti Earth: The Forgotten Sanctuary: Chasing the Slinger's Androids--

Cory and Ryat66 hugged the ground, just like Solid Shot said. The android looked worriedly (as worriedly as he could, anyway) to his wizard companion, and wondered at the spell he was chanting.

"Just a little insurance policy," the wizard muttered as a blast of fire exploded out of his hand and streaked down the tunnel after the machines, "Nothing to worry about..."

When the battle ended, Ryat66 understood what Cory had done. Given the precocious nature of the android, Simmons had actually "hardened" the air over them so they couldn't stand up. It was only them that he did it to, so the area of effect was much smaller, but it did do a good job of bouncing laser blasts away from them.

"Unf!" the android grunted as it tried to push itself up, "You can... You can shut this thing down now, Cor..."

"Wait for the all-clear, my friend..." the warlock replied smoothly, "You never know when a nasty surprise is coming down the hall..."

"Yeah? What'll you do then?"

"I suppose I will do what any flesh-and-blood creature does when panicked..."

"Mess yourself?" Ryat66 asked confusedly.

"I was about to say 'go into a Fight-or-Flight panic,'" Cory grinned at his diminutive autonomous friend, "But I suppose your example would be the more immediate reaction, yes..."

----------

--Rikti Earth: The Forgotten Sanctuary: Rear Group, Over the Fallen Acid Zero--

"I admit, I didn't see where he went," Randall grunted to the android mastermind, "I was a bit focused on the situation at hand."

He looked around and cursed. It sounded like a bear growl.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about his disappearance?"

--January--

"I'm gonna check the messages on the machine," Cedric called to his brother.

It had been a while since the group had done anything official. This was largely due to the fact that Randy had gone on vacation. Over the course of the break, he had locked up the base. It had been a long vacation, too, starting after his last mission of the Rikti War (a strange, tumultuous event that took him to the Rikti Homeworld and had him and a group of heroes and rogues dealing with events there). However, those that had stayed in Paragon or come back early had been locked out of the base until he came back.

Sarah and Joe got married in Kingdale in October. It was a simple ceremony that took place at the same house where she'd grown up. Joe, for one of the first times of his life, actually stood up to Randy... He didn't stand up for long, because he was drunk, but the important thing was he told his wife's father that he was sick of the old man giving him a hard time.

Randy then spent the Autumn and Winter hunting. He took his sons, friends, and even Joe out with him a couple times, but for the most part he went out alone for the quiet. He didn't really shoot anything, he even forgot to bring ammunition with him a couple times. Once, he even kicked himself, because the King of the Forest himself dropped by his woodlot and chilled out for a few minutes.

Now that he was back, however, it was back to business as normal. No more Snowball Wars, or any other weird situations (not that Randall's coming back had anything to do with Snaptooth leaving), it was time to get back to serious business.

*click*

Cedric stared at the machine and cursed inwardly. There were only twenty-five messages on the machine. Even for a small group, it was a tad insulting.

"Yeah, hi guys, Agent Wild here. Just, uh... Wondering when you'd be back. I've got some assignments I think are right up your alley... Give me a call, kay?"

"Hey guys, Wild again... Just uh... Wondering where ya are..."

*click*

"Yeah, hi-"

*click*

"Yeah..."

*click*

"This seriously isn't happening, is it?" Cedric asked nobody in particular, but Roland shrugged anyway as he stocked the base's refrigerator.

"Hi there... Um... This is Sam... Sam Bibbins... I'm looking for Randall Grey, or Cobalt Black, or somebody from Grey's Army..."

Cedric took down the guy's number before deleting the message.

"Who was that?" Randy asked before the answering machine switched to another message from Agent Wild.

"Some guy named Sam... I don't recognize the name, Dad..."

"Hm..."

"Well," Charlene soothed as she walked in with some potted plants, "I suppose we could find out who he is and tear him a new one if it's some kind of trick..."

"I'd expect that from Archon White," Randy grunted, "In fact, I better drop by his cell sometime soon... He probably thinks I've forgotten about him."

----------

"What the Hell are you doing in my apartment?"

Kip glared at the orange-skinned girl standing in the middle of the living room. Her lips were pursed in a confused "Oh" and she looked like she was about to settle in to watch some soap operas with a bowl of popcorn. Kip recognized her as Fire-Shield.

"Uh... you see..." she stammered.

"You've been watching my cable, using my electricity... Who let you in here!?"

"Uh... Agent Wild..."

Kip blinked at that. He knew Freedom Corps had assigned him the apartment, and that he'd filed for new arrangements, but he was figuring he'd be moved, not...

"That doesn't make any sense..." he muttered, "Did he give you a reason why?"

"Well, my boyfriend... he... he broke up with me... And I asked Wild if he knew anywhere I could stay," Fire-Shield bit her lower lip and cradled the bowl next to her belly, "I figured he'd gotten a hold of you somehow..."

"Well, he didn't..." Kip sighed.

"If you want me to go..."

"No, it's fine," Kip shook his head, "I... I overreacted. Just... Just tell me you didn't take that bedroom."

"No, I took this one," she gestured to the one Aaron had been using until he moved in with Misty after coming back from Praetorian Earth, "it seemed to be the one you weren't using..."

"Cool, cool..."

The scrapper started making his way to his bedroom so he could start putting away his stuff. Fire-Shield sat down on the couch and was about to turn the sound back up on the television when she turned to Kip.

"Hey... uh... since we're living here, i think we should call each other by our real names."

"Uh huh."

"You go first," she rested her chin on her hand and gazed at the scrapper ponderously.

"It's Kip. Kipland Durj. I got no reason to hide who I am 'cause I'm not really that important."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. And if anybody tries to come after me, well... too bad for them, because I take those kinds of things personally, and tend to break bones when people go after my friends and family."

"Wow."

"And your name?" Kip hoisted his backpack up on his shoulder again.

"Oh... Well, I'm Cathryn. Cathryn Dobson."

"Cool," Kip turned back to his room, "Well, don't turn that teevee up too loud... I can't stand those soap operas..."

"Zeke" is the even-tempered father of Nester and Kip. He's a couple years younger than Randall, though few would know that considering their appearances. Zeke took better care of his body, but his hair lost its color, while Randall's physical appearance has turned more haggard and he's only recently started losing pigment in his follicles.

When he was in his thirties, the construction firm Durj worked for went under. In that moment of panic, his wife at the time had a massive panic attack and left the family, leaving the already stressed Ezekiel to raise the young boys by himself.

At first, he wasn't up to the task. After hiring a babysitter for a night, he went to a bar to clear his head. There, he met Randall Grey, not for the first time, but it would be one of the most pivotal moments of his life. Randy confided that he always considered Zeke a good friend, and didn't like the downward trend of the proud man's life. Essentially, Randy made it clear he wouldn't take "No" as an answer when he offered a job in his own independent construction company.

This proved cathartic for the Durj patriarch, and he was surprisingly able to raise his boys in a way he figured was fit. While he was a bit concerned with Kip's zeal, he was quite pleased with Nester's level-headed way of going through life.

During the Rikti War, Zeke helped shelter and usher refugees throughout the ruins of Kingdale. Using only his wits and the hunting weapons he had on hand, he was able to protect the people placed in his care by Randall and Kip.

After the war, he settled down to help with the reconstruction effort. Being a skilled contractor, he never seemed to be without work (especially since he was working at a much-reduced rate). A number of times, his former employers (under a new company) tried to hire him back, but he and Randy just kept working as they always had before.

When Zeke heard that Kip was dying of the Obsidian Blight, he decided to come to Paragon City so he could be around for his son's final days. Unfortunately, as he was making his way to the King's Row Yellow Line, he was stopped by a group of Skulls as they attempted to rob the six-foot-tall gray-haired man. Zeke deftly demonstrated that they had made a mistake in their choice of victim, and had four of the five thugs subdued before one of them stabbed him in the back before the group ran off.

As Mr. Durj considered his demise, he started to hear a voice. Having no idea as to what a Kheldian or a Nictus was, he listened to what he perceived was a feverish hallucination brought on by the onset of death. It turned out, however, that he was making a deal with Androm'Geizzer, a Nictus war criminal.

As yet, it is still unclear as to what Geizzer's role was in the conflict between the Kheldians and the Nictus. Apparently, Shadowstar is trying to sift through the Nictus propaganda and misinformation, but it seems that Zeke's Warshade persona is being blamed for some very heinous crimes among the alien energy beings. However, the Kheldians currently allied with the Heroes decided it would be best to let the situation play out, as it seemed that Zeke was the dominant personality, Androm's having been exhausted trying to revive his host's dying body.

For many months, Ezekiel was unaware of his Nictus's origins, though he was having nightmares that demonstrated some of the things he was accused of. However, once Androm awakened (announcing himself casually as Durj was shaving one random morning), the Nictus also seemed confused, shortly thereafter realizing that a propaganda campaign was being launched against him. Shadowstar and Sunstorm have been interviewing with Durj and Geizzer regularly to determine the truth of these claims.

As far as his standing within his super group, Durj is a relative "arbiter" within Grey's Army. Due to his even temper, he's often sought out to settle minor disputes, and has even kept the group from being dissolved outright after moments of Randall's indiscretion. During the short period of time when Randall, Kipland and Cory were removed from "Active Hero" status, Zeke ran the group, directing it more toward public works projects and hammering out a deal with Portal Corp for the Ryat androids.

Green Jacket Outfit

Brown Outfit

Zeke tends to stay away from the "Super Hero" motif of outfits, preferring more along the lines of simple comfort. Such behavior is typical of the Grey's Army alumni, and the Icon employees have learned after many embarrassing arguments to let the working-class heroes be.

These are two outfits that Zeke wears when he's in a relaxed mood. The green outfit is his more rugged of the two, and he's even put some armor pads into it.

Scout/Hunter

Zeke, like many denizens of rural communities like Kingdale, is a hunter. When he goes out hunting, however, he prefers to wear as little as possible. Considering the fact that "Deer Season" is in the time of the year when snow is about to hit the ground, his outfits have been, thankfully, quite covering.

Thankfully, in the near-weatherless environment of Paragon City, Zeke's idea of "as little as possible" is still a rather decent covering. Still... There's something familiar about this appearance I can't quite put my finger on...

Combat Armor

Zeke sometimes takes the advice of his peers, and this outfit is the result of it. Looking something like a modern cowboy, Zeke is able to weather most of the assaults on his body with this form-fitting, Kevlar coated and plated, polypropylene-lined suit. It's as close to "Hero" as he'll ever look.