Mr_Grey

As the heroes and their allies amassed at the dockside, the rogues finished their fight with Scrapyard. Before the blue energies of the ghost drifted into the soil, the Arachnos troops started gaining the attention of the disparate super-powered individuals.

"Hey!" a random brute shouted, "What're the red-and-black doin' here?"

"Get them!" a Webmaster pointed and indicated Draven Erickson and Solid Shot trying to organize a retreat, "The invaders! They have come to oppress you!"

"They look like they're running away to me..." a mastermind remarked.

"Who cares," a man familiar to the Brutal Warriors rasped, "They're with Statesman and his Freedom Flunkies! For that, they deserve to die!"

Draven turned and regarded the last individual.

"Psych... Whirly... Isn't that Soultaker?"

"I thought he was dead..." the other scrapper replied.

"He could have done better with the dialogue, but then, he must not have been programmed for acerbic wit," the storm summoner remarked.

Unfortunately, regardless of the weak argument, it turned out the gathered rogues didn't require much of an excuse to go rampaging after heroes. Despite their weakened state after having fought the Ghost of Scrapyard, they turned to assault the allied metahumans with zeal.

Before the first corrupter could close within firing range Grey's Army, however, a series of scarlet laser bolts cascaded out of the sky and tore through him. Ryat Prime and his robots hopped off the nearby warehouse and stood between the rogues and the Army. A massive dome of energy wrapped around him and his machines, protecting them and those behind from the incoming blasts.

"Prime!" Ryat99 shouted, "They'll tear you apart!"

"Frank, hold the line," the android said to the large assault bot and joined the group as his robots started firing again, "I suggest we start moving."

"What about your robots?" Draven asked.

"They're not even lesser aspects of me, definitely not worth shedding tears over. I can always make more."

Solid Shot stared at the other android for a few moments, but said nothing. Doubtless, he had some horrible thoughts in mind for the Ryat prototype, but now wasn't, by any means, the time to voice any of them.

"Let's move!" Ragin' James shouted and the group started running north.

The robots Ryat Prime left behind slowed the rogues, but not much. The tan-green android didn't slow when his machines were destroyed, one-by-one. The group kept running.

Brother Mauthe snapped his fingers and some of the windows in the warehouses smashed open. The rogues pursuing them were suddenly pelted with scavenged assault weapons-fire. Some broke away to pursue Mauthe's Dregs (but would find nothing but an empty warehouse).

Out in the harbor, Brother Ringo had commandeered a boat and was piloting it parallel to the pursuit. As he drove, he pulled out a remote control and started hitting the button repeatedly. Bombs he'd placed in all sorts of other boats started exploding, causing rogues who were trying to flank the heroes and their allies. He wound up getting rewarded with a fireball scoring into his watercraft and blasting him out of the water. The Reclaimator on Brother Mauthe's Island got him, then, and not the Sharkhead Isle ones.

As they reached the beach, Roland Grey did something odd. He whirled around and fired an arrow at the approaching rogues. When it hit the ground, a massive splash of black fluid spread out, slicking the ground and causing most of the approaching foes to slip and fall.

"Why didn't you do anything like that back at that Cage warehouse?" his brother shouted.

"I did," Roland replied, "It just wasn't that noteworthy. You told me yourself, nobody remembers the support. Why do you think the numbers you and the Ryats faced were so manageable?"

The tanker shrugged, smiled, and drew his axe. They had a fight ahead of them, and it was time to be ready for-

An Arachnos Flier, on fire, fell into the warehouse the other rogues had charged into. The gathered metahumans, those (tenuously) loyal to Arachnos and Randall's assembled associates both, stared at the wrecked machine and the burning structure in awe.

Then a missile streaked through the sky and smashed into the center of the assaulting rogues. Bodies and burning globules of the slick fluid scattered about. Cedric caught the blob headed for his brother's head with his axe, his grin never faltering, not even when another slammed into his armor (rather, it was dragged into his armor, thanks to a gravity anomaly Sheldon worked into the armor).

A Brute was clawing his way for the pair when a big rock slammed into him. When the brothers turned to find the source, they found Randall standing triumphantly on the beach. He had leaped out of the ferry as it approached the island, rather than risk getting ambushed on the dockside. The rest of his group was able, in their own ways, to flee as well.

Sarah was in the process of floating Joe and Sheldon up to the hovering BWO Dropship while it lowered to the beach so everybody else could board. The vehicle itself was blazing its heavy chaingun into the approaching rogues, inspiring terror and causing many of them to flee.

"Can you believe I found a Longbow ship out there in the water?" Solo asked over the intercom as they found their seats, "It launched Chasers out and took down most of the other Fliers... I took out the three that escaped."

"Good man," Randall grunted, "Now, come on! It's time we got the Hell out of here!"

----------

--Freedom Corps HQ, Galaxy City--

"What did you think you were doing!?"

Randall was now in his business suit, and he had his armors unpowered. He thought it was funny that he had to maintain a professional appearance during his "dressing down."

To cut back on oversight costs for his supergroup, he had filed for a basic affiliation package with Freedom Corps. While that didn't entail that the organization was directly responsible for the supergroup, it didn't change the fact that most people saw Randall's crew as being yet another extension of the Red-And-White.

Normally, the relationship wasn't much of an issue. If Freedom Corps or its leadership (the Vindicators or the Freedom Phalanx, though Ms. Liberty was really the only one in its actual hierarchy) ever needed support, they could call on Grey's Army. Of course, they often didn't. Usually, there were other, larger or better groups to talk to. Randall's actual roster only numbered around fourteen, not the near-hundreds (if not more) that the other groups maintained or claimed in their rosters.

However, some incidents require that somebody be held accountable. After the Cube Incident, Randall, Cortland, and Kipland had been summoned to an oversight committee. The committee consisted of some of the best and brightest of the heroes, all of them the very membership of the Freedom Phalanx.

Randall hadn't made a good impression then, and he would have wound up with a serious suspension (if not outright expulsion) had not Cory sent a mental explanation to Sister Psyche as to the nature of the massive hero's degrading nature.

Of course, now Randall didn't have that excuse. Still, he was sober for this one.

He sat in a chair in front of Ms. Liberty. She was in the process of shouting at him while he gazed back impassively. She'd finished ranting off a list of United Nations treaty violations and failures to adhere to the Standard Operating Procedure before she asked that one question.

"I was getting my man back," he replied calmly, "How do you explain it when B.S. comes and saves your butt?"

This made her livid, but before she could say anything, Randall stood and started heading for the door.

"Get back here! Sit down!"

"No."

"WHAT!?"

"I didn't like listening to people your age when I was your age," he growled back as he swirled around with a swagger, "I sure as Hell am not about to listen to ya, now."

"I am superior to you!" she was losing some of her nerve.

Randall opened the door a crack before what he said next, "Maybe you'd be nicer if you were still dating my son."

The whole hallway went deathly quiet as he left. Kip stared at Randall's back, his face a mask of true horror at what the big man had done and as he considered the implications of what he'd said. Roland sat across from Kip, and he was busy rubbing blood from his bitten lip. The other two in the room, Ezekiel Durj and Cory Simmons, didn't know what the big man had been talking about, but they quickly put the pieces together. The senior Grey smiled and waved before closing the door behind him. He just missed out on the ear-splitting shriek that followed.

"Wait!" Kip and Cory shouted at once as she went storming after the general of Grey's Army, "WAIT!"

"Get out of my way! As of this moment, you are all suspended, pending an investigation! I will see to it that none of you ever so much as kick a stone without being thrown in jail, I-!"

She looked into Ezekiel's face. He wasn't trying to restrain her or explain anything. He'd simply stood and gotten in her way. Somehow, his passive stance was both alarming and disarming.

"You're agitated," he said calmly, "Please... My friend is angry and confused. He doesn't understand that all actions have consequences, even ones that are meant for the best. He just acts on a 'you did wrong to me and my own, now I must do wrong to you,' principle of honor."

Ms. Liberty was still angry, and she shrugged off Kipland's restraining hand briskly.

"I'm still suspending all of you."

"Perhaps we can come to another arrangement," the elder Durj intoned, "Please... Let's discuss this in your office. Kipland, Cortland... Join us, will you?"

"How did you do that?" Kip thought as his father continued to calmly but firmly insist that they negotiate for proper punitive measures, and finally convinced the girl to agree.

"Proper inflection is key," came Cory's voice in reply, "Kipland, I'm impressed. During your tenure as Kingdale's backyard hero, I never knew you were capable of Aethereal or psychic speech."

"I'm just as surprised as you are," the scrapper replied as they followed into the office, "This is a first for me. I blame the Obsidian Blight."

"You can't blame everything on that forever," the wizard chuckled back.

Once the door to the office closed, Roland stood and followed after his father.

----------

"What the Hell is wrong with you?"

"Excuse me?" Randy asked as he took a bag of candy-coated peanuts from the vending machine, "Oh yeah... That."

Roland swatted the peanuts out of his father's hand. Randall glowered down at him for that. It wasn't wise for the cub to swat food out of the bear's paws... Such a thing was regarded a challenge for territory in the primal sense...

"You had no right to say that!" Roland hissed, undeterred, "You even know what it was about, and yet you still said it that way, like we'd been an item!"

"Roland, it is what it is..."

"But it's not what you think it is!"

The big man regarded his son darkly. Of his children, Roland had been the hardest to determine. Cedric was easy enough, the first born and the oldest of his peers, the near-white-blond boy had turned into a wild man and a pioneer for some of the reckless and bizarre moments of his generation. Sarah was a sweetheart in her class. Roland, however, remained obscure, largely ignored, despite his bulk. Rarely did he break from the shell that was his bedroom or his books, save for chores, eating or school.

However, when the boy took up hunting, it surprised the old man further. Even more when he developed a knack for it. Upon graduating from high school, Roland immediately signed up for college, knowing exactly what he wanted to get into. Then he returned home and took over one of the failing bars, turning it into a moderately successful dive.

When the Rikti attacked, he didn't do much. He wasn't a hero or a soldier. A few times he was forced to defend himself or others nearby, but he never went out and took the fight to the enemy like his father and a few friends did.

It was as if, from birth, he was always stuck in the middle ground. A middle child with middling grades, and a moderate point of view, Roland just never made much of an impression on anyone.

Until he came to Paragon. Somehow, he'd wound up in the company of one of the world's favorite heroes... And Randall just voiced his knowledge of it. Worse, he voiced it to numerous people and had perverted the truth of it to diminish Ms. Liberty in their eyes.

This was the point Roland tried to get across to his father, but the old man refused to give ground.

"So what if I hurt her?" he asked as Roland poked him in the chest, "You think she's gonna remember this in a couple weeks?"

"Maybe the rest of her life, Dad," the young man replied, "I was one of few, very few people that she connected with in some way, shape or form, and it was entirely due to a fluke. You’ve got no right to exploit that kind of weakness... It makes you no better than the thugs we fight out there every day."

Randall shrugged, but didn't say anything. Roland shook his head and stomped away.

As the bow-hunter left, Zeke emerged from the elevator and smiled at Randall. He was followed by the other two, who both looked quite forlorn and exhausted.

"Randy! Let's go get a drink!" the elder Durj shouted as he clapped the big man on the shoulder.

"Why? What's the good news?"

"We dodged a bullet, that's what!" the Warshade replied, "Plus, we got our inventor back! Positron had a notice delivered to Ms. Liberty that she handed over to me... It reinstates Sheldon, though it has a few restrictions..."

"Restrictions?"

"He'll still be able to invent and tinker, but the things he constructs will have to be scrutinized."

"What else is there?"

"I'll explain it when we're in the bar," Zeke said as they went out the door.

Cory and Kip stood silently in the hallway as red-and-white uniformed soldiers strolled past. The wizard clapped a hand on the scrapper reassuringly.

"Perhaps you can look at this suspension in a good light," he offered, "I, for one, will be taking the opportunity to spend more time with my Gertrude..."

"What am I going to do?" Kip snapped, "I woke up, I went out and busted heads. Eat, bust heads, eat, bust heads, bathroom, bust heads, home, shower, sleep; repeat... What the Hell do I do now?"

"Perhaps you just answered your question," Simmons replied darkly, "You are in the most need of introspection, my friend. I see you charging down a dark path, heedless of the danger that surrounds you. Whether through confidence or ignorance, I cannot say, but it is sheer foolishness, regardless. There is a terrible tragedy at the end of the corridor, and your reaction will either be debilitating remorse or machine-like indifference..."

"So?"

"On the former, you're not useful to anyone. On the other, you become the enemy."

"You can't save everyone," Kip whispered as they reached the exit doors.

"The rallying cry of the cynicism," Cory replied with a disgusted sneer, "The last bastion of those who've never tried."

"I've tried, Cory! Oh, I've tried! I've failed at opening the eyes of my peers, and I... I..."

"...Couldn't save her," the warlock finished with a sad sigh, "Is that really what all of this is still about? You can't let it go?"

Kip nodded, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

"How dramatic," Cory said as he hugged his friend reassuringly, "To Hell with trusting in Hope... It's time we looked for an alternative means of fixing this dilemma."

"Cory..." the other said between sobs "It was my fault... I couldn't save her; I couldn't stop them from taking her..."

"I don't see how that makes you guilty. You have got to stop beating yourself up over this..."

"At first... At first I saw the faces of the Rikti who took her away..."

They were sitting in the Yellow Line Station now, waiting for the next train car.

"Now I only see myself..."

"Again, my friend," Cory was wafting soothing hums through the Aether to Kipland, "This has to stop..."

"I gotta go home..."

"Quite right. I will help you get there."

"Thanks," Kipland said as he tilted his head back, "I don't think I can take the walk back..."

"He's right, you know," his soul said in the back of his mind as it slowly eased the headache from his brain, "And now, the two of us can converse and try to fix your damaged sense of self. Perhaps... When we're done, we can stop being separate like we are now."

"Why are we separate like this?" Kip asked back.

"Well, we always were, really. You suppressed and repressed me so much to do what you had to do... The Obsidian Blight and its unique infection were a catalyst for me to finally have a voice."

This raised an alarm in Kip's head and he suddenly stared at the far wall.

"I'm assuring you, my logical, crumbling self, that I am who I say I am. If I weren't, you wouldn't have started crying when you did, and I would not know that you suddenly thought I'm actually an alien energy being inside your head. Instead, you would have gotten into a fight with Cory behind the Back Alley Brawler, and I'd be oblivious to your concerns and sudden desires to get rid of me."

That made some sense. Kipland was still wary, of the voice in his head, but so far, it hadn't steered him wrong. With any luck, he'd be able to utilize this break from the action would be the introspective time he needed to sort it all out.

The leadership of Grey's Army had been suspended for their role in instigating an invasion of the Rogue Isles. That was Kipland, Cory, and most of all, Randall Grey. The rest were free to do what they wanted, so long as they were within the boundaries of or upholding the law. It was a bit of a kick in the pants for the efforts that went into rescuing their friend, but sometimes, this was how the system had to work.

----------

--Unspecified Location, Grandville--

Operative Grillo sighed as he reached his quarters. It had been the worst butt chewing he'd gotten from Lord Recluse, but the mastermind of Arachnos seemed almost amused by the whole event, and their losses were next to nothing.

What bothered Recluse, instead, was the inept handling of the espionage that destroyed most of Arachnos's intelligence on the heroes in Paragon City. Grillo didn't have anything to do with that, and Recluse's mystics were busy working on reforming Ghost Widow to figure out what had happened.

Now, all the operative had to do was relax in his quarters with a bottle of brandy.

"Hey there, numb nuts," a voice said from out of the shadows.

Grillo spun around and shot. The bullet stopped a foot from his target on a crimson colored energy shield and dropped to the floor. The calm man standing there with a glass of brandy in his hand smiled.

"Hector," Grillo chuckled, "I see you're prepared, as always."

Sheldon's father gestured to the chair.

"Keep the bottle. You'll need it when I'm done here."

"You gonna hurt me that bad?"

"You went after my son," the other said as he drew a pistol, "That doesn't make me happy."

"In all fairness, I was after you."

"I'm not concerned with your petty conflict, Grillo, and it vexes me that you would drag my son into it."

"Your son is involved since he involved himself as a self-styled hero!"

Hector Wallace shook his head and aimed the pistol at Operative Grillo's knee.

"Did you tell him we were colleagues, or rivals?"

"Is there a difference in our line of work?"

"It depends... What did you learn from me?"

The Arachnos operative merely grinned.

"Look, Grillo... I don't hate you, but I am disappointed. You don't see me going after your family to achieve my dubious goals..."

"You have to have dubious goals first... And-"

"Spare me your 'I only care about my work' rhetoric, I'm making a point. Now, look, I'm going to make this very simple. You ever go after my son again, and I'm going to come in here, and shoot your left testicle."

"Really?"

"Mm-hm."

Grillo swirled the bottle around a little.

"Then I'm going to go to work on you," Hector pointed the pistol meaningfully, "I'm not entirely sure where to begin, yet... I think I'll take your hand first... Then your ear. Eventually, you'll be missing so many parts, I'll have to hook up a life support system, but so long as you stay alive, I'm certain your precious Arachnos won't ever catch on to what I'm doing until it's too late."

"That's pretty nasty..." Grillo took a swig of his beverage and sighed, "But if you do that, then Arachnos will come after you. I'm rather central to much of Recluse's planning at this point. I'm what keeps his system in check."

"Yes, well, I won't kill you," Hector shrugged, "That wouldn't serve my purposes. I want you to learn a lesson, not die. I want you to serve as an example. And, I want to hurt you."

"Well, that would hurt..."

"Not physically," Hector laughed, "See... This is where you and I differ, my dark-souled acquaintance. Where you are driven to revulsion by the idea of magic and mystical arts, and indeed wish to wipe the 'stain' of such practices or thinking from the face of the Earth, I am perfectly open to the idea."

Wallace smiled as he holstered his weapon.

"To summarize, if you ever intentionally lay a hand, however indirectly, on my son again, I will tear you apart so perfectly the only way to put you back together will require mystical assistance."

Grillo frowned. He knew Wallace was serious. Worse, he'd probably be able to do what he claimed.

"Don't bother getting up," Hector said as he walked to the door, "I'll let myself out the same way I came in."

"You could be a powerful force in this world if you're able to come and go in Grandville as you please," Grillo laughed, "If only you'd apply yourself..."

"I do apply myself," the other replied before setting the glass down on the nightstand, opening the door, and stepping through, "Don't ever make me come to this ugly place again."

((Huh. And now I'm not confused about how they relate to each other.))

((Sovs? Uh... Toy's crew is in Rikti Earth... Curtis tagged along with the Slinger? He (and Reikoff, by extension) always struck me as a leader of his own cell, and not prone to the maniacal mad science of his counterpart. Wouldn't he would be quite a bit bothered by the Slinger's predisposition toward "meta" methods of handling situations?))

"I could fly instead as well," Ryat99 offered, "Perhaps that will help ease the trip for everyone."

Leaping into the air, he did a backflip and his armor rapidly shifted and clicked from the combat frame to his smooth and rounded flight armor. He executed a salute before kicking on his vector jets and hovering in place over the machine. Once the sled was ready to move, he would be able to maintain speed with it.

((The Constructicons (I always call them Destructicons, a sort of pathological behavior similar to a habit my father has to calling INstructions, DEstructions) were a special unit of the Decepticons. They were a group of construction vehicles that would merge together to form a powerful monstrosity. They were rather heavily underutilized, but when they were, they were a serious threat. Each individual Constructicon was a threat unto himself (many of which were as conniving and threatening as the early iterations of Starscream and Shrapnel), the "Cement Mixer" was a mobile chemical bomb lab, for instance. The background stories for those robots were not nearly as rosy as the shows made them out to be. Sometimes, I wonder what the shows would have looked like had the creators done what they'd intended, and not what was marketable to a target audience under the age of 10.))

Grillo ignored the sound tweeting at his hip. Normally, he was more than willing to answer a summons from his Lord Recluse. However, right now, he had to deal with something personally.

He found Sheldon in a database room, uploading information to a location he'd rather not have the information getting to. Shaking his head, Grillo raised his pistol, aimed, and fired.

Sheldon looked up at the hole smashed through the screen, the casing of the machine, and, quite likely, the hard drive.

"Was that entirely necessary?" the inventor asked as he turned around to face his kidnapper.

"Why are you doing it, Sheldon? Didn't I treat you right? Here, you'd have a place and a purpose. We'd accept you for your gifts, try to understand them..."

"Try..." Sheldon snorted, "And likely succeed into turning them into weapons. No thank you. I'm going home, Master Grillo. Don't stand in my way."

The Operative frowned as he turned the pistol to the younger man. Sheldon gestured and one of his energy rifles clapped into his hand as he leaped aside. Before he hit the floor, he fired into the grating at Grillo's feet. As the electricity dissipated, the mad scientist chuckled.

"Was that supposed to hurt me, like you did those Banes out in the hallway?"

Sheldon had found that the inductive current from his weapons was extremely useful at creating a wide effective area of disability. The Bane Spiders in question had been closing with him stealthily, but he knew they were there since he'd been fighting their troops and robots left and right down the corridors and hallways of this twisted fortress. They must have been confused when he jumped into the air and fired the electric bolts into the floor, but the misunderstanding ended rapidly enough. Whatever padding the Bane Spiders used to mask their footfalls on just about any surface, it wasn't very insulating.

Grillo, however, still had rubber soled boots. The electricity cooked them a little, and he sneered at the acrid stench. Aside from the slightly increased chance for cancer, the operative was unharmed.

"See, now I can't let you walk out of here. You've got my blood all riled up, and it's not good for my heart... To calm it down, I gotta put bullets in someone, and you happen to be the only guy available."

"Right," Sheldon almost laughed, "So, you intend to put more bullets in your equipment?"

"If I have to."

"Yeah," the inventor set his rifle down and popped some nodes off his left glove and attached them to the nodes on the right, "I figured as much."

Grillo aimed at Sheldon through the pillar he was hiding behind. There wasn't anything important in there, aside from some power cables and perhaps a few network lines. The armor piercing round he had in his pistol chamber would be able to easily tear through the column, slam through the inventor's back, puncture a lung and tear a nice exit wound out of the young man's chest before the prison Reclaimators pulled the little punk into a 3 X 5 cell. Then the Banes would get to work on him.

Unfortunately, as he was setting the gun just right, Sheldon flexed his hand. There was a tug at his hip. The older man looked down and cursed as the inventor yanked hard with his right hand and leveled his gaze straight ahead.

The pin on the grenade Sheldon had given him earlier had pulled out and the plate fell away, revealing a one-second timer. Grillo had just a moment to reflect that the boy had been planning this escape from the beginning before the device exploded and a vortex wrapped around him.

Sheldon's glasses made a beeping sound as the grenade synced up and sent the Operative to a location several hundred feet in front of them.

Unfortunately for Grillo, there was no structure there. He pressed into his jugular vein hard to calm the stress flow and hit a button at his hip to activate his emergency teleporter. Wallace breathed a sigh of relief and prepared to find his way out of this twisted nightmare of a fortress city.

-----

Operative Grillo arrived in the special Emergency Reclaimators reserved for the Arachnos elite. Most people within the organization didn't know about these, as they were designed so only Lord Recluse and his most trusted lieutenants (of which Grillo was one, since he built the damn things) could access them, not just any slackjaw "Destined One." Of course, there were still guards.

"Operative Grillo!" one of the Bane Spider Commandos shouted as he aimed one of those wicked Arachnos Maces at him, "Lord Recluse has ordered for you to be brought to him at once!"

"I know," the mad scientist replied gruffly, "I'm done with what I was doing. Let's go."

"Sir, when lord Recluse orders-"

"I know, dammit!" the operative shouted and pointed angrily at the Bane Spider, "Don't you tell me the protocols of this organization! I helped write most of them you sniveling [turd]!"

The Bane Spider was taken aback. Grillo narrowed his eyes at the soldier and made a note to ensure he was reassigned. the man didn't have the nerve to be posted in such an auspicious position. As soon as he had the soldier's serial number from his chest plate memorized, he started making his way for his lord's throne room.

-----

Sheldon emerged from the database room in a bad mood. Before Grillo had shot the computer, he'd uploaded not even fifteen percent of the information he'd found to Freedom Corps... And a lot of it was either encrypted or broken up so not everything was delivered. Still, it was something.

A group of spiderlinsg got in his way, but Sheldon turned the rifles to a wide-arc lightning spray that sorted most of them out. The Blaster bot supporting them made to fire, but he flipped the switch to focused fire and a pair of scarlet blaster bolts tore through the robot's armor plating and power plant, detonating it.

It was going to be a long walk.

----------

"We're almost there," the ferry driver declared, "Just ten more minutes. I hope you folks've got a plan..."

"Yeah," Power breaker grunted as he watched the familiar black spire approaching, "We've got a plan... Right?"

Randall shrugged.

"'Winging it' 's a plan, right?"

----------

It had been a long day. Sheldon reached the ferry, bleeding from his arm and with only one blaster left. The other he had to overload to escape some of the strange Tarantula robots and the pair of Mistresses that led them. He also had a slight limp because a Bane had caught him in the thigh, and it just plain hurt to walk.

Still, he'd made it. Now he was staring at the opening to the ferry. He licked his lips and sighed.

How was he going to-

"Sheldon!"

Sarah ran out of the ship and hugged him.

"Oh my God! Are you alright! Nester! Nester! Help him, quick!"

"It's okay, buddy," Nester, who was normally a bit of a joker, suddenly looked very serious, "Here, I've got ya, I've got ya..."

As the green light washed over Sheldon and the nanites he'd helped Nester design started working at patching him up, he had to admit, it felt really good. Whatever Nester had been doing to improve the little buggers, it worked better than he could have expected.

"I..." he gasped.

"Halt!"

A squad of Crab Spiders had amassed on the platform. Sheldon turned and aimed his rifle at them, but any further action on his part was unnecessary at this point.

"Didn't you guys ever listen to your mother?" Power Breaker's voice grumbled behind the Crab Spiders, "Only pick on people your own size!"

An explosion of red lightning erupted from the shoulder spikes of the cloaked brute and wrapped around the Arachnos troops, trapping them in place and shorting out their weaponry. As the brute went to work smashing them apart, he shouted to the heroes.

"Get the hell out of here! I'll hold off anymore that come along..."

"What about-?" Randall started to say, but Breaker cut him off.

"I'll be fine. I've got friends in high places..."

The stone tank nodded and ushered his daughter and her friends back into the ferry. then he grabbed one of the crates full of heavy equipment and chucked it into the group, where it knocked over a couple of the Crab Spiders as the electric cages wore off.

"A parting gift," he grunted with a wave as the ferry started to pull away.

"Don't think you can-AUGH!" one of the Crab spiders shouted as Power breaker fired a bolt of lightning at him.

"Don't worry about them. They're the past. Worry about me. I'm the present. I'm right here."

By the time he'd finished off the group, Scirocco had arrived. Breaker's patron made a few disappointed hums as he stepped up to the big brute.

"Why, Raymond? Why?" the Arabian man asked calmly, "You know they will kill you for this."

"For what? All I did was pummel a few Crabs. The capes? they did their own thing. I was just watching."

"That won't hold up," Scirocco sighed, "I know you had your reasons, my large friend. But I fear your fantastic memory will not save you if my lord looks at this as an act of treason."

Power Breaker shrugged and started walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm bored. I'm gonna go smash some Arachnoids."

"And if Daos sends Death Squads?"

"Then I'm gonna be smashing some Banes. It wouldn't be the first time."

(("...And I'll form... The Head!" is a Voltron reference, not Transformers. Perhaps the Destructicons said it once, but they hardly ever talked.))

The Gudar made a happy squeal and hugged Essex back as they boarded the hoversled. Sheldon arched an eyebrow, not at the android with his best friend, but at the little animal.

"Feeling insecure about his loyalties?" Ryt99 asked as he prepared to follow Essex.

"No," Sheldon replied, "But I'm thinking I know why Felix made his daughter..."

"Figured it out, did you?"

"It wasn't too hard. He was acting like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar when we found Katie. I think he did it for two reasons... One, to give Sarah someone to play with..."

"She has Ni..."

"Yeah, but there was also the fact that Felix can get pretty lonely in the base when we're not in there. He probably just wanted someone for company, what with the fact that Ni stays in Sarah's apartment..."

"Company?"

"I'm fairly certain Felix doesn't look at Katie as a potential mate."

Ryat99 seemed to sigh with relief.

"I bet that little guy thinks of himself as being like Randy..." Sheldon smirked, "And that Katie is his Snuffy. He's probably doing the same thing with Essex right now..."

"What's your point?'

"He's not going to choose her over his family. Definitely not over Katie... But he won't let me be at peace until he knows that little pink android will be safe in some way..."

"Any ideas on what the next one will be based off of?"

Sheldon looked to his large android counterpart. Ryat99 gazed back impassively.

"I'm working on it," he replied before ushering his friend to continue to the hoversled.

That's a Heck of an idea...

Except in the Cluebag it explains that as you hold the Dagger, you start raising it to your own throat (even for the heroes). Still, that's just an RP away from explaining how you were able to master the dark weapon...

"If you want your redemption," the whisper of a female voice echoed in the back of its head, "you will do as you are told!"

"Yes, Mistress," Sikk replied worriedly, "I will do as you say..."

It had taken the teen a lot of groveling and convincing to get Ghost Widow to forgive him for the slaughter he'd committed inside her own tower. If she had been there at the time, however, he would have been utterly destroyed.

"It was an unmistakable fortune she was not," the voice said in the back of his head, "Though I wish I did have a little more time with that red-clad psychic..."

"Stop it, she might hear you..." the youth hissed at the voice and set out to find the people Ghost Widow had tasked him with finding.

What he found instead, was Mad Matt McGinty. The two found each other as Cedric was rigging a few trucks to explode outside of one of the Cage Consortium's warehouses. Or rather, Sikk found the hero who'd sent him spiraling down the drain of the Zig.

"Well-well," Sikk intoned as he started closing with his foe, each footstep muffled by the fact that he was both in and out of sync with the world, "It seems I may just wind up enjoying my penance..."

"Finish him quickly!" the voice hissed, "Do not toy with him!"

"Why?" Sikk asked aloud.

Mattock heard him and slashed his blade through the air. Sikk barely deflected the desperate attack, but that was all Matt was looking for.

"Ah crap, a stalker," the hero barked, "When are you paper tigers gonna learn? Never go toe-to-toe..."

He turned to Sikk's face.

"Ah crap... I know you."

"No," the young man's voice changed sharply; now it was a low tone, almost hollow, "You don't."

With a chuckle, Sikk disappeared again. It was like his shadow had simply leaped up and swallowed him whole before disappearing entirely. This didn't deter McGinty, but it was certainly a hindrance.

"You think that scares me?" he asked as he pulled the blade into a defensive stance, "Remember how this went last time?"

"Yes..."

Matt blinked. That was a new sensation. Cory had been training him some, mostly with meditation, and they had covered the basics of "Aethereal Communication," which was apparently a step removed from true telepathy. However, in those sessions, there had been very little in the way of emotion... Not like the pure malevolence that had just shot through his brain.

Of course, Matt had dealt with people who didn't like him before. He was able to roll hatred right off his back. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to roll off so easily the blade that snaked out of the middle of the air right in front of him and drove straight to his abdomen.

So, instead of rolling the weapon off, he rolled away. The blade jabbed into empty air, and Matt met the follow-up strike with his own blade. There was an electric eruption, and the two warriors stared each other down.

"You're not nearly the hero you need to be to defeat me," Sikk declared in that dark tone, "Give up, and I will ensure your death is quick."

"Give up?" Matt's face screwed up in rage, "We... just... started!"

He kicked the stalker away and started marching after him. Before Sikk hit the ground, however, he disappeared again. Three dark trails sailed through the air, circumnavigated McGinty, and rematerialized as Sikk stabbing into his back.

"Augh!" the scrapper shouted as he spun away, a long gash left in his back, "Sonova... You-"

"-Gave you your chance," Sikk chuckled, his voice a mix of the one that had alerted the hero earlier and the malevolent deep one, "Now... Now you die slowly..."

"You scratched me," Matt gave a warrior's salute with his blade, "That doesn't mean I'll die before my time."

"But it does, boy... It does..."

"Boy? I'm older than you by almost a decade!"

"There is nothing in this world older than me," the deep voice said alone, "Nothing."

"Are you gonna keep talking, or..." Matt stopped and stared at his sword.

It was glowing. Not the whole blade, but the silver dragon filigree and the peculiar inscription next to it had attained a strange golden shine. There was a tingling sensation across his back.

"No!" the deep voice shouted, "It cannot be!"

----------

--Roughly Eight Years Earlier: Kingdale High School Rear Parking Lot, Graduation Day--

"Always trust your heart," Matt read as he translated the inscription.

"A simple phrase," his mentor, Ken Yahn, clapped the young man on his shoulder, "I felt it suited you best, as it is the way fight your best."

Ken was Asian, but of unknown descent. He was first-generation, and had changed his name upon reaching the states. He was old enough to be Matt's dad (literally, as the two were the same age), and the two had met shortly after the boy was born. Matt's dad swore it was a family they rescued from a fire, Ken often was silent about the issue.

Oddly enough, the two had struck a deal. Matt wound up receiving about the strangest education an American student could receive, a third from his father, a third from his high school experiences, and a third from Yahn. Ken provided Matt with an education in martial arts unlike any received before, combined with his father's take on fighting and the various brawls he wound up getting into as a friend of the abrasive Cedric Grey. At the end of high school, he was one of the three toughest kids in Kingdale High, and many disputed who among them was truly the toughest.

"Not my best," the blond kid replied as he sheathed the blade, "Just some of my fiercest."

Ken chuckled again. Matt joined him. They both knew that Matt's fiercest was his best. They were joined shortly thereafter by his father, affectionately referred to as the "Crazy Old Man," Mark McGinty.

"There's the graduate!" he shouted, "What's that pigsticker you got there?"

"Ken gave it to me for a graduation gift."

Mark took the scabbard as his son offered it and tested the weapon's weight. Nodding approvingly, he returned it to its owner.

"Be careful with that thing. People get strange ideas about swords. Even today. Not as bad a feeling as guns, even though guns are worse, but people still think a person with a sword is dangerous."

"Rightly so," Ken commented.

"People see rifles and pistols... They get crazy," Mark sighed, "They see a sword, they get scared."

"They're usually scared the man with it is a lunatic."

"They're wrong?" Matt asked.

"Not all the time, apparently," Ken replied.

Marcus McGinty sat on his truck's tailgate and cracked a beer out of the cooler he rested against. He tossed one to Ken, glanced slyly to his son, then tossed him a soda.

"Thanks," the high-school-kegger veteran grinned at the can and cracked it open.

"A sword is a strange thing to give to someone for a graduation gift," Mark commented.

"Well, now Mattock has to make his own way in the world..." Ken replied, " And it's going to be a grand path to walk... He's got a mark of destiny upon him."

"I don't believe in destiny," the young man grinned, "Just a path to walk and choices to make."

----------

--Back to the Present--

Matt shook his head as he realized there was more going on than he was really prepared for. This thing was immensely more powerful than the last time he'd faced it, and he was already thinking of Sikk in the term of "It" rather than "he" or "him." There was a strange rushing in his ears, like the roar of hundreds and thousands of voices, all yelling for him to execute the creature before him.

For a moment, he saw the two of them in an arena that defied placement in time.

"What the Hell was-" he breathed before Sikk savagely assaulted him.

He was barely able to deflect the attack, parrying it to the side and stepping back. In the background, Cedric still worked away on bombing the trucks. The tanker thought the distant sound of metal striking metal and screams was just Matt taking care of business.

Ryat99 and the other Ryat androids came rushing around the corner of the warehouse, bullets whizzing by their heads. Ryat24 spun around and fired off a few bursts from his assault rifle. Ryat66 pushed him aside and yanked a severely damaged Ryat10 behind him. Ryat99 brought up the rear, bullets smashing into his armor plating and revealing the ice protecting his working parts.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Ryat24 asked as Ryat99 swiped his ice blade in an arc and caught two of the pursuing Arachnos soldiers.

"No," the big android replied, "Keep moving."

"You guys are back already?" Cedric shouted, "Man, time flies when you're handling plastic explosives..."

He pressed in the detonator and rolled out from under the truck. A Wolf Spider closed with him and wound up receiving an axe across his chestplate, shattering it and knocking the suddenly frightened man on his backside.

"Do not [frig] with me," Cedric barked as he pointed the archaic weapon at his foe before turning to his high school friend, "Matt! We're movi- MATT!"

McGinty rolled away as Sikk disappeared and did that "attack from behind" trick again. This time, he counter-attacked, driving his blade into the assassin's abdomen and rending it through the teen's torso. Sikk's right arm was cleaved off at the elbow and there was a look of shock on the youth's face.

"What?" he asked clearly with his own voice, "What just... How did?"

And he died. Matt had killed people before. People who deserved it. It wasn't something he liked to talk about. This, however, was much different. It felt very hollow, like both he and the young man had been cheated. He had no doubts that Sikk would have wound up being a petty Skulls thug had he not run into the strange artifact of a sword that he now wielded.

However, in that life, he would still have lived a long time. This was most definitely a cheat. The way the boy's eyes were turning dark was a clear indication that he'd been betrayed.

"Damn," Matt muttered, "Sorry, man."

"Sorry?" the deep voice suddenly laughed and Sikk's face twisted into a mask of manic glee, "That was the best favor you could have done for me!"

"I wasn't talking to you."

Black ooze emerged from the wounds and severed limb. It reached for the whole and started pulling the body back together. Matt would have been bothered by the spectacle if he hadn't see what the opposite looked like.

"Matt!" Cedric shouted as he fended off another group of Arachnos troopers, "Come on, man! Move your [butt]!"

"I gotta go," the scrapper said as he deftly cut off Sikk's head.

It just reattached. Sikk smiled and raised his own blade.

"My turn."

"I don't think so," the scrapper replied as he dodged the assault and returned with a stab into Sikk's torso, "Cedric, run!"

"But!"

"Go, dammit!"

The tanker shoulder tackled the Longfang into his troops and bounded away. Upon reaching the corner of the warehouse, he saw the Ryats were once again receiving a lot of aggression from the troopers.

"Don't worry guys," Cedric shouted to them as he withdrew a remote control from his wristguard, "Once I hit this button, Arachnos is gonna have to smooth things over with the Cage Consortium..."

He turned to the demolitionist who'd been surreptitiously watching them.

"Right?"

"Uh..." the guy replied dully, "Yeah... I guess... I thought you guys were more of those rogues..."

"Nope," Cedric replied as he pressed the button, "We're the good guys."

There was no explosion. The tanker pressed the button a few more times, but there was still no reaction.

"I have to check my notes," he muttered as he drew his axe again.

"Let me get this straight," the demolitions expert was tapping his left fingers with his right index finger as if he were counting, "You guys are heroes... But you invaded the Rogue Isles... Now you're going to blow this warehouse to holy Hell..."

"Look man, this crap was long overdue for everything the Rogues have been pulling back in Paragon... And only Paragon thanks to King Creepy Crawly's vendetta..."

He swung the axe and a blast of red energy streaked toward the trucks. The beam connected with the nearest one, heated the plastique, and energized the ignition devices. A moment later, the truck blew, causing a chain reaction throughout the lot. Cedric was blasted off his feet, but he had the most bizarre triumphant grin on his face. The warehouse was torn apart, and the Arachnos troops in the area were scattered.

Matt and Sikk were launched from their walkway. Oddly enough, they were both able to maintain enough control to strike and stab at each other, deflecting each other's blades and each trying to gain leverage. They fell rapidly into the water below and continued their fight under the surface.

Matt kicked angrily, pushing himself away from his enemy, rolling through the water. When he righted himself, focusing on the Stalker, he was treated to an unusual sight.

Sikk was rushing toward him, a mass of dark tentacles writhing behind him. His face was twisted into a nightmarish sneer, the skin was getting contorted into bizarre positions.

Matt only had time for one strike and he let his instincts control the thrust. The two blades met with a red spark burst as the Stalker closed with him and the tentacles of shadow wrapped around them. There was a brief moment as the mass became a near circle and suddenly snapped away, revealing the blade sticking out of Sikk's chest.

Matt twisted the blade, and the glowing filigree and inscription brightened before exploding. The energy shot through the sword and tore into the monster's heart that had been pierced (which was, oddly, on the right side of the youth's torso). The explosion was brilliant and the scrapper found himself vaulted into the air and onto the rocky beach. His sword landed next to him, a spattering of black slime coating the blade.

"Ugh..." he grunted as he picked himself up, "What was that all about? I never... I never felt like that before... Like he had to die..."

He grasped the hilt of his blade and waited a moment. The markings on his blade didn't glow again. He heard no rushing, and felt nothing new. There wasn't even a sense of accomplishment.

"Weird," he muttered as he ripped a piece off the cuff of his pants and started wiping the blade clean, "At least this stuff comes off easy."

"Mister McGinty!" Ryat99 called down to him, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine... How's everybody up there?"

"Ten's in critical condition, but that's fine for androids... Cedric... Ced's about the way I always see him. Crazy."

"Heh-yeah..."

"The BWO's calling for a retreat... We're to meet where the ferry usually docks and start heading north from there."

"Got it," Matt started climbing, "Got it..."

-----

About ten minutes after they were gone, a body washed up on the beach. It wasn't the young stalker, Sikk. It was one of the bizarre fish-man creatures called Coralax, a blue specimen. What it did have, however, was a blade sticking out of its chest and a thick coating of black slime.

A rag rolled over to the body and slapped against it. More black ooze started to creep out from under the piece of denim and join the rest that had gathered at the point where the blade plunged into the still-gasping creature.

"Oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-"

Fire-Shield wasn't the most confident of heroines. She wished she could be like Wrath Fire, who'd just taken several bullets to the chest, arms, face and back, and was still standing with a ticked-off look on her face and punching and throwing bad guys about. Eisenheartz wasn't much different, there were a few holes in his armor, but he still lashed into the Arachnos troopers at his doorway with a fervor that bordered on a berserker rage. Snuggle Purr, the strange spiky catgirl, was curled up at the controller's feet, fumbling with one of the cartridges that would reinvigorate her so she could get back into the fight.

"Where's Kip?" Fire-Shield asked as she pushed her shield back from the onslaught of ammunition.

The plan had been simple. Raid the Hellforge, find a warehouse and hole up inside. While inside, they would fend off the Arachnos troops at various doorways, hallways and other choke points. Then it turned out the warehouse was wide open, and the troops didn't limit themselves to coming through doors...

Showing a surprising amount of ingenuity, the troopers had smashed through the ceiling and the windows. They had the small group surrounded before they knew what was happening, and Kip seemed to just go nuts. The last they'd seen of their erstwhile leader, he was pushing a group of enemy forces through another doorway, and promptly disappeared. More troops came in through the doorway, so Fire-Shield was worried the worst had happened.

The tankers pulled closer to the controller, their resilience massively depleted. Inside the shield, there was a modicum of comfort, some protection, but the troops were weathering Fire-Shield's resilience as well.

"Hold fire!" the Webmaster running things shouted suddenly.

The onslaught ended, and the Wolf Spiders and Crab Spiders held their positions. They started moving in closer, reloading their weapons and preparing for a fresh attack. The catgirl at Fire-Shield's feet pushed herself up, a green glow closing her wounds and replenishing her.

"You've fought well," the Webmaster called to the gathered heroes, "But I'm afraid your battle has come to an end. Now... I will make you this promise: Tell me who it was that enabled your rapid insertion to the Rogue Isles, my Lord Recluse's domain, and I will ensure that your torture is swift and your deaths relatively painless..."

The sound of shattered glass, followed by a pair of screams answered him. He looked up to an overlooking office and saw two of his Crab Spiders dropping to the floor. They were shortly followed by Kipland Durj, his eyes blazing with rage. As the bodies of the Arachnos troops hit the floor, they disappeared in red electric eruptions that sent them to the reclaimators.

Kipland landed afterwards and struck a defensive stance. Wrath Fire shook her head angrily and leaned in close.

"Where the Hell have you been, Kip?"

"I got carried away," he hissed back, "I'm sorry... I really am..."

"You've got to keep your head in this game, you little [turd]! I can't believe how recklessly you're treating this whole situation!"

"Dammit, Wrath..."

"Enough of this!" the Webmaster roared, "Kill them!"

The tanker dove back into the shield as the bullets flew, but Kip, oddly, stood his ground. Screaming angrily, he was suddenly wrapped in his signature dark purple armor. The bullets deflected harmlessly, and he dove into the ranks of the enemy.

Suddenly, all eyes were on him. The spiked clubs the Wolf Spiders were fond of came out, and the soldiers started wailing away on the crazy scrapper. That didn't help them, though. Kip wound up stealing a pair of clubs, and used them to fend off other fighters. Left, right, forward, back, he moved like a man possessed, and that wasn't far from the truth.

"Side-kick, now!"

Kip reacted to his soul's command. The Wolf Spider he victimized wound up crashing through a few ranks of his allies, and Kip dove into the hole in the troop formation. From there, he whirled around, smashing the spiked batons into the troops and shattering their armor.

"Alright Kip. We're running out of time... What's the plan for what we have left?"

Kip responded to his soul's question by vaulting himself up and smashing his knees into a Longfang. As the body toppled to the floor, he tumbled and wound up in front of the Webmaster. He shoulder rammed the commander, bounced back, hopped up, spun around, and delivered a savage drop kick to the Webmaster's face, cracking his dome.

It was at that moment that Kip's armor failed. He cursed as he slumped to the floor, his body exhausted, his brain suddenly developing a splitting headache. Unfortunately for the Arachnos troopers thinking they could gain a quick kill on the exhausted scrapper, the rest of Kip's force had recovered from the earlier battle and dove into the fray.

The Webmaster looked up to see Eisenheartz twirling the mace at his side as he approached. Confused about the behavior, the commander wasn't ready when the tanker whipped the weapon into his dome helmet and smashed the glass inward, incapacitating him and automatically activating the Reclaimator beacon.

Wrath Fire and Snuggle Purr took the remnants as Eisen and Fire-Shield defended Kip. The scrapper was wrapped in shields from the controller as bullets streaked toward him. The catgirl leaped at the troopers hiding in the rafters and catwalks, hurling bone spikes at them and embracing them in painful hugs. Wrath Fire actually kicked a staircase over, busting up a whole squad of the troopers as it fell. Not content with the victory, however, Genevieve leaped into the air and smashed into the metal wreckage, pressing it down on the troopers one final time before they were agonizingly teleported to their medical facility.

"Well done," Eisenheartz declared as she rejoined the group.

"I don't think they like hugging me," Snuggle said with a deceptively adorable tone of voice, "They kept screaming 'ow ow, you're hurting me...'"

"Are you okay, Kip?" Fire-Shield asked as she administered shields to the rest of the group, "We should probably get moving... We're not in a good way, and there could be more troops coming."

"No more are coming," a voice said from the entrance.

They turned to the red-coated leader of the Brutal Warriors Order.

"Hey guys," Draven shouted as Project Whirlwind rushed past and started casting his healing magic on the various wounded heroes, "Everybody alright?"

"We're just fine," Kip replied as he pushed himself up, "Barely. Thanks for the support."

"We saw their forces massing here and figured we'd take some of the stress off. If it had been Cedric we saw go in here, we'd have left him to his nightmare."

Draven Erickson chuckled at his little joke. Project Whirlwind shook his head. At that point, the rest of the BWO's ground forces made their way inside.

"I've got good news," Psycho13 announced, "A big blue ghost just started wreaking havoc on Arachnos forces... We've got ourselves some breathing room."

"Scrapyard's Ghost," Dirty Ice grinned mischievously, "Never thought I'd be so happy to see him."

"Solid Shot and Cedric's crews are on the other side of the big rumble, though," Ragin' James folded his arms over his chest, "So, what's the plan? I'm fairly certain there are some of the tougher types of villains mixed up in the group trying to take down the big, scary monster... Think maybe Arachnos will be able to get them to help out in the fight?"

"Maybe... Maybe if they convince them there's a reward to take down your guys' dropship," Kip replied.

"Ice!" Draven shouted and the fiery brute was already leaping for the window, "Get Solo out of here!"

----------

The Flier streaked past, firing a teleportation beam into the dropship's central chamber. A group of Wolf and Crab Spiders suddenly appeared, but Mr. Kolt wasn't about to let them gain their bearings. He drained a belt into them from his M-240G machine gun and shouted for Mr. Hackler and Mr. Coach to close with and destroy the enemy. A couple bursts and a butt-stroke later and the dropship was clear again.

Except for the Bane Spider Justin Steel shot into submission from his seat. As his assault rifle stopped firing, he turned calmly to Mr. Kolt.

"I shouldn't have had to do that," he said calmly.

"I know, sir."

"Make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Aye sir."

Solo Stryker's voice came over the intercom before the commando could start barking at the other troops.

"Watch out boys, we've got a friendly comin' in!"

Dirty crashed into the side of the door and twisted as he fell to the floor of the ship. Mr. Walter, the Medic, started treating him before the brute jumped up and clicked the intercom.

"Solo," Matt shouted, "Draven says we've gotta move out! Now!"

"But there's still Fliers out there!"

"We gotta move, man! We gotta move! See all those people fighting down there? There's some of the really nasty bad guys down there, and if Arachnos convinces them we're badge-worthy, they're gonna tear this ship apart!"

There was a lurching sensation as Solo Stryker pulled the vehicle hard to starboard. Mr. Smythe toggled a few switches and there was a jarring sensation as one of the Fliers attempting another "Portal Bombing" crashed against the ship's repulsor field and was sent crashing into the massed crowds below. The BWO Dropship didn't far much better, but was able to recover before hitting the ocean.

"Alright, we're moving out," Solo shouted, "Dirty, if you feel like heading back..."

"Later man," Ice replied, "When we gotta pick them up, I'll be good to cover the retreat..."

"You might be necessary beforehand," Justin said as he casually peered over the shoulders of his troops, "Those Fliers don't seem to want to let us leave."

"Pft, they're mass-produced," Matt shrugged, "There's no love or care in them... Solo can turn 'em to slag."

--Rikti Earth: The Forgotten Sanctuary--

"Ah!"

Cory rolled away from the blaster fire. Lasers scored overhead, one nailed him in the leg, and another struck him in the back. Cursing, he crushed a green gem in his palm turned to the next spell in his arsenal...

Fire Breath.

No words were necessary, no thought, even. Just a sudden inflection as he blew his lungs empty at the machine. The fire spewed forth without fail and the Warlock wrapped his striking hand in fire to hurl as soon as the fire was done.

-----

"I'll be fine," Randall replied as he continued his march and scraped up a piece of debris to hurl at the Delta unit, "Man, I've never seen a Titan act like this before..."

--Rikti Earth: The Forgotten Sanctuary--

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!"

Ryat66 tumbled backward five times before he reached out and grabbed the ground. Unfortunately, it was too slick to find purchase, but that didn't stop the construction android. He channeled a burst of energy into the floor strong enough to melt through the toughest steel out of his hands. The burst only lasted as far as the tips of Ryat66's fingers, but it worked. A small glowing streak was left behind the android, and he was able to stop his trip along the repulsion wave.

Randall had been thrown against the ship. With any luck, the next time Delta 5 tried that, his being Granite and Rooted would keep him in place, instead of just one or the other, as he was just in his Granite Armor on this go.

Pushing himself up, Randall started thundering toward the machine again. He wasn't about to let the cyborg stop him or his mission.

-----

Cory hated using the jetpack. Randall had gotten them for the whole crew, and they'd proven useful, even to the wizard, but the it was so... Conventional. It was a product of technology, and was originally meant to assist in long jumps, but Simmons and Randall's wife, Charlene, had discovered that it also provided an extra boost to flight speed.

Cory needed that boost now. Gritting his teeth, he retrieved a black remote control from the inside of his coat and pressed the single red button on it. There was a whirring and a clicking as the jetpack formed. It gave no consideration to the warlock's outfit (of course, since the coat didn't exist in a material sense, that made no difference) and just emerged through the back. With a whine, the jets fired and the wizard felt his speed increase. It was slight, but he was now gaining on the fleeing robots.

Simmons started mumbling and tracing his fingers in a simple pattern he used to cast the spell most other heroes called "Chillblain." When he neared the closer of the fleeing machines, he cast and the energy gathered at his fingertips erupted into a frosty mist that hardened around the robot's ankles, dragging it to the ground and holding it in place. He tried to rush past it, but as it fired on him, he had to maneuver.

As it leveled on the wizard, Cory rotated in the air. The machine let loose a bolt of energy that scored into the warlock's shoulder, but Simmons let loose a Blaze spell that blew the machine's head clean off.

"Ow," he gasped as he dropped out of the sky.

He couldn't catch the other and he knew it. Perhaps Solid could, however. Without wasting anymore time, Cory started weaving his free hand through the air to summon his ally through the Aether.

----------

--Crey's Folly: 1st Malta Group Base on the List--

Kipland kicked the Operative's head against the wall. The rest of the group flinched at the brutal hit, but the younger Durj didn't pay them any mind.

"I don't want to take over Grey's Army," Kip spat at the goon, "And I need information. Where is the Slinger's base?"

"Even if I knew what you were talking about, I wouldn't tell you!" the Operative replied, "You meta-humans think you can run the world? The Malta Group will-"

Kip zapped him in the neck and the True Believer slumped to the floor. He placed a Police Drone beacon on the thug's neck and turned to the rest of the team.

"Okay, this base was a bust... Probably just an opening facility," he shrugged, "Nothing but zealots. Nester, any luck with that computer?"

"I sent the info to Indigo," he shrugged, "But we can't be certain that-"

"Great... We're getting used by our own side..." Kip grumbled.

"It might not be so bad," Ryat99 intoned, "Besides, this is just the first base. It's small, under-developed... We should have realized this wasn't what we were looking for, but still, it's good to stop these things when they've started out."

"Indigo just sent me back a message apologizing for using us, yada-yada-yada... And now she's swearing the rest of the bases should prove more fruitful..." Nester narrowed his eyes at his communicator, "Goodbye, good luck..."

"At least they admitted it this time," Kip grumbled again.

As the police drones moved in on the fresh signals, the team moved out. Matt hopped on his motorcycle and started talking soothingly to the machine.

"Why do you keep coaxing your conveyance?" Ryat99 inquired.

"Because it needs some lovin'," the scrapper replied, "I just found out it kind of has a mind of its own... I don't even know if it's a male or a female... I just know it didn't like that first fight I put it through."

"Such is the folly of blending mystic elements with technology," the android's visor glowed brightly briefly, "The results are grievously unpredictable."

"Well, I'll do better next time," Matt chuckled.

"Next time?" Nester asked as he looked the contraption up and down, "You have another one of these crazy things in mind?"

"No!" the scrapper sounded shocked and he started patting the console of the machine, "No... But a true motorcycle aficionado is never done working on his baby..."

The rest of the team looked worriedly to each other and Kip shook violently.

"We're wasting time! Let's get on to the next base and start putting foot-to-[butt]!"

They didn't have any argument , so the team moved on to the next base, which was just next to the Freakshow's "Circus" district...

"Alright, Randy," Power Breaker snuck the group to a ferry, "Recluse has these things in passive mode, so the drones won't gun you down... I think..."

A large rock smashed into the first, and the second wound up driving itself into the water. There was an electrical sound as the machine shorted out. Power Breaker scratched his head and turned to the heroes. Randall was whistling to himself and Sarah seemed to be gazing intently at her fingernails.

"Right..." the brute grunted, "Alright, let's go..."

A number of villains were already waiting patiently to use the ferry, but the brute and the tank did a good job of scaring them right out the back. It must have been comical to any of the Scrapyarders watching the rogues and villains leaping out of the back of the ship to dive into the water and get away from the high-powered individuals. Of course, they also took it as an opportunity to toss some dynamite in after them.

"Well, that was unexpected," Randall grunted as massive plumes of water exploded into the ferry, "Does that happen often?"

"No," Power Breaker shrugged, "But then, they hardly get that opportunity."

"Start driving," Joe intoned to the ship's pilot, "Grandville, right Peebee?"

"Right. If they've got Wallace anywhere, it's there. If not, we can harp on Grillo for a while and get the location we need..."

"Who's Grillo?" Sarah asked as she found a crate to sit on.

"He's Arachnos's chief mad scientist," the brute replied, "More authority than Dr. Aeon, and a true believer of Lord Recluse's portrayal of a Technocratic society. Say what you will about Recluse, he's got a better idea than Nemesis..."

"A place for everybody and everybody in their place," Randall grumbled, "Regardless of whether or not that place is leadership, labor, fuel or food."

"Everybody winds up as fuel or food in the eyes of Nemesis," the brute agreed, "Everyone except him..."

The other members of their strike team, the non-meat shields, shuddered at once. The fact that these two could talk so easily about it was exceptionally unsettling.

"I think you've been doing this too long, Randy," Charlene hugged his wrist, "It's taken something from you..."

"It took your years away, hun," he replied softly, then brushed some of the hair from her face, "You're pretty now... But I do kind of miss the old you..."

"All gray hair and wrinkles," his wife replied, "No thanks. At least now I can hurl energy blasts and shoot lasers out of my eyes..."

Randy nodded, but he disagreed with his wife's enthusiasm. He already had his own extraordinary longevity. At an age where he should have either started losing his hair or at least had it go gray, he still had a lush, thick mop that was as dark as dirt. It was one of the gifts the Earth, Gaia, had given him for his service as the Guardian, the Warden, of Kingdale, but he could have done without it. He could have done without it all, but it came in really handy when he thought he'd lost her forever.

Now what was he supposed to do? This whole "rescue operation" answered that question in the short term, but in the long term? What was he supposed to do? He couldn't keep on in Paragon, Roland was right on that one. There was more to do elsewhere, and he could certainly do a lot of good in his hometown, plus there was the fact that new heroes poured into the city every day. They would certainly be able to handle the workload.

Unfortunately, he was knocked out of his reverie by a clawed swipe from Captain Mako. The shark lunged out of the crates and just raked his hand across the tank's face. The rest of the group reacted with shock, but Randall raised his hand to keep them at bay.

"So..." he grunted as the wounds closed, "Decided to stop going easy on me, huh?"

"Without your veritable army backing you up, cape, I can finally let loose my full potential!"

Mako lunged again, twirled in the air, and delivered a kick to Randall's chest. He then backflipped, crossed his arms in front of his face, and slashed both sets of his claws across the tanker's neck and shoulders. This caused Randy to stumble to his knee and reach into his pocket for a couple of the green gems that, when crushed, would heal him instantly. As Mako made to deliver the final deadly blow, a bite to the throat, Grey raised his forearm into the path of the gaping maw and was surprised when the shark man seemingly hit bone.

"Ow," he winced and reached his hand over to Nester.

"You want me to hit you with some heals, boss?"

"No," Randy gestured, "That. Gimme that."

The defender turned to what the tanker indicated then looked back to Randy with shock.

"Nester..."

"Randy, no..."

"Give me... The SCUBA tank..."

Mako made a muffled confused sound moments before a yellow canister smashed into his head. The shark man fell away, recovered quickly, and turned back to attack again. Only this time he met the SCUBA tank again.

The next time, the SCUBA tank came to meet him as Randall backhanded it across Mako's face. The rest of the group "oohed' and "aahed" as the shark man was smashed throughout the ferry. Mako wasn't stupid, however, and wound up ducking one swing, and chose that moment to strike.

He drove his clawed hand into Randall's chest, aiming for the diaphragm so the big man would drown on his own blood. It would have worked, too, if it weren't for one thing he hadn't taken into consideration: the rock armor that was also inside his flesh, wrapped around his other internal organs. Captain Mako's eyes widened as his claw got stuck, and Randall glared down at him.

The tank rumbled down at him, "That..."

-----

"HURT!" Randy's voice roared across the bay as he smashed the shark man through the ferry's bulkhead.

As Mako flew through the air, the big man propped the oxygen tank on his knee. With one swat of his hand, the valve of the canister exploded and the apparatus rocketed into the free-falling body of Arachnos's stalker general. The compressed air erupted into a cloud as the tank spun about after hitting, but Mako never hit the water. A burst of red lightning erupted from his body and he disappeared. Randall stared at the empty space where the shark should have been as the canister landed instead.

----------

"I guess he didn't like getting his ribs broken," the tank grunted as he slumped into the crates, "Nester... Heal me..."

"Righto," the defender started applying nanites, "Wow, boss, he wasn't hitting like that earlier..."

"Mako usually waits for opportune moments to strike," Power Breaker explained, "It's how he took down Scrapyard... It's how he takes down most of his foes..."

"But he could have done that when the BWO dropped us in Sharkhead!"

"He didn't know Randy would have just had it out with him, no interference. Here in the Rogues, and even in Paragon, if you've got an advantage, you use it. He didn't expect Randy to go mano-a-mano. Heck, I didn't expect that, Randy... But... Why the SCUBA tank?"

"I thought you hated that movie," Charlene kissed her husband on the cheek.

"Aw," Sarah sighed then ran to get her fiance.

Bringing him back, she pointed at her parents.

"That's what I want us to be like," she giggled.

"Snuffy! I'll never be that big!" the cop groaned, "I'd have to start eating ridiculous meals when I was fifteen!"

----------

"Uh, ma'am," one of the Arachnos troops beside an astonished Barracuda, "I don't mean to offend or presume anything, but... Shouldn't we get out there and finish the job Captain Mako started?"

"No."

She was laying on the concrete, with her arms crossed on the raised edge of the pier. Barracuda's chin rested on her forearms, and her face was having a hard time returning to neutral.

"Uh..."

"Look, do you want to get thrown through a wall and rocked with a SCUBA tank? Do you!?" she jumped up and rounded on the Wolf Spider, livid, "I don't! You can go ahead and waste yourself a trip to the Reclaimators, I'm going to see if I can work on that other thing we came here for originally! Dammit, Viridian dropped the ball on this one... He dropped it hard... Where the Hell did these guys come from!?"

"Perhaps we should help the troops shut the ones left on the island down..."

"Sounds like a good..."

An Arachnos Flier fell into the water, one of its hover pods destroyed by an anti-tank missile and spewing smoke. The machine landed with a splash and the BWO dropship hovered overhead, backing away slowly as it churned out ammunition from its heavy chaingun into pursuing Fliers. The black ships did not look like they were ready for the shielded gray one.

"Forget it!" Mako's apprentice shouted as she started marching into the ocean, "I'm going to my underwater beach house... Call me when this is over."

"Ma'am?"

"Daos can send the Banes, I don't care. Right now, I'm on vacation!"

----------

"Woah," one of the guards flanking the exit door said at the pile of parts in front of Sheldon, "You really tore that thing apart!"

"I took fitful naps," Wallace replied, "I just couldn't stop myself from working, I just had so many great ideas on how to improve this... Still, I'm all rested up and ready to go on this..."

He pulled the gloves on and wiggled his fingers. He could feel the beginnings of a static charge between his fingertips, the gloves themselves hummed eagerly. Licking his lips, he raised his hands into the air like a maestro preparing to direct his orchestra.

Then he began. It was a frenetic display of tiny parts moving through the air. Pieces snapped together with ease. A soldering iron floated among the detritus, fusing the fixed components in their shapes. Wherever Sheldon's attention went, that was where the most complex performances, the most intricate details were exacted, and when Sheldon put his attention on multiple items, it was like watching two slowly growing whirlwinds in the middle of the madness.

Everybody in the room stopped to watch. The guards even lowered their weapons, they were in such awe. Sheldon's face never twitched, never flinched and he maintained the same stoic resolve from beginning to end. The pieces whirled and flew about him, he waved and guided their paths, and brought more soldering irons in to accommodate all of the moving parts.

Finally, he was satisfied, and he threw his hands toward the Arachnos troops. The pieces flew out at them and the guards went for their guns. Had Sheldon been attacking them, however, it would have been too late, and they would have been pelted by a plethora of blaster pieces. Of course, that would have achieved nothing. Finally, Wallace allowed himself a smirk.

"I wouldn't have wasted all that work, just to smash these little parts against your armor," he chuckled, then he started wiggling his fingers again, and the little pieces pulled away from the guards, "I've been at this too long for that."

The parts started coalescing near the inventor. As they fitted together, he maneuvered the soldering irons to weld the last parts into place. He had multiple sections being put together, but the guards were too astonished to figure out what was happening. One of the scientists had it figured out, however.

The man Sheldon had corrected the previous day, however, did nothing to warn the guards. He merely turned back to the power armor he was working on and set back to work feverishly.

Sheldon, satisfied with this phase, brought his gloved hands into fists. The different pieces of his contraptions twirled around in the air, came together and bolts locked into place. The guards were now staring at two of the most bizarre looking ray guns they'd ever seen.

Once again, they were too late to react. Sheldon pulled the trigger and two bolts of red lightning spat out at the Arachnos Wolf Spiders. The troopers dropped to the floor, unconscious, but alive, and Sheldon turned to the other scientists.

"I'm getting out of here," he intoned, "Anybody who wants to come with me is welcome."

"No..." the one with the power armor held it up for the escapee to see, "But take this with you."

"What?" Sheldon arched his eyebrow at the man, "Why? Why would you help me? I embarrassed you."

"You think I didn't know I was making mustard gas? It took me months to get the materials just right... It was meant for me, but if it took out everybody in this room, so much the better... I couldn't go on with my inventions and discoveries being used by Arachnos to conquer the world... To put everything I hold dear under the despotic thumb of that madman..."

Several of the other scientists, tinkers, and technicians nodded their agreement.

"I was hoping to end it all..." he pressed the armor into Sheldon's chest, "Now, I've got something else to look forward to..."

Sheldon set the weapons down on a nearby table and set to putting the armor on. As the Dr. Mustard (as Sheldon had come to call him) explained it, he grabbed one of the rifles. Sheldon went to grab his other rifle, realizing he'd made the critical mistake of relinquishing his weapon when the other man fired one more electric bolt into the guard moving for the alarm. The black-and-red armored man slumped down to the floor again, and the fortress remained quiet.

"Here you go," Mustard said as he handed back the energy weapon before helping clasp some of the armor's locking mechanisms shut, "If he'd hit that button, we'd all be in some nasty trouble."

Sheldon powered on the armor and looked to the lab technicians. They nodded, saluted and offered words of encouragement.

"Good luck," Dr. Mustard said, "And give them Hell."

Sheldon nodded, and made for the door.

"Randall, there's only one place they would have taken him," Power Breaker grunted, "But if we go there, we have to be very careful."

"G-ville, huh?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, we'll do enough damage here to get them looking this way, then hit 'em where it hurts..."

Power Breaker shook his head.

"I can't imagine what they've got around here that Arachnos would consider important. Still, we make enough noise anywhere and..."

The brute stared off into space for a moment.

"Oh... It seems we have made enough noise..."

"What do you mean?" the stone tank asked, his voice taking a note of genuine concern.

"There's a large force of Arachnos troops being mobilized... Plus anybody Arachnos can tap..."

"Which is?"

"Well, nobody right now..."

"How do you know this?" Charlene asked Power Breaker.

The brute tapped the spikes on his head.

"I've got access to the Internet, a telephone, and a few other things I like not to think about..."

"We better get moving, then," Randall waved to the other teams to move out, "Get me to Grandville, Ray."

The Brute nodded and proceeded to lead the tanker and his group to the Ferry. As they reached the ship, the first of the Arachnos Fliers had arrived.

----------

"Alright," Solid Shot peeked around the corner to determine the positions of the Arachnos troopers, "They've got the streets filled..."

The android pointed at Mark Shadow.

"Your friends took off to the other side of the island, that mine they've got running over there... And your friends," he pointed at Brother Mauthe, "Are... Wherever..."

"Relax," the Dreg leader drew his pistols and checked them as his mobile shield generator charged up, "When we need them, they will make their presence known."

"Grey may trust you, but I don't!" Solid almost shouted and leveled his rifle at the Mastermind-type rogue, "Why don't you give me a damn good reason why I should!"

Brother Mauthe clucked his tongue before reaching into his left breast pocket. He opened the wallet he retrieved to the combat android and allowed him to read it.

"Do you understand yet?"

"That could be fake..."

"But you know it's not. All the necessary holograms and watermarks are present."

The android stared at the Mastermind for a moment until Mark tapped him on the shoulder.

"Uh... Solid? Those troops are headed this way..."

The Arachnos troops had been dropping into Sharkhead Isle at an alarming rate. Hundreds of black-uniformed soldiers were porting out of the Fliers, led by a few Crabs, Longfangs and Webmasters. Huntsmen directed the small squad deployments, and the entire force was combing the island for the hero force that had just sent Captain Mako in retreat.

There was just one problem with Arachnos tactics. Unless they were herded into a location, they never truly attacked in force. Often, the en mass tactics didn't help them either (the Nemesis Army being much more effective at utilizing an "Organized Horde" ethic), as they often wound up being cannon fodder for tankers, blasters and controllers before they would even get a shot off.

Solid Shot didn't have a controller in his corner. But he did have a lot of guns.

"Screw this," he muttered and marched out into the street.

"There's one!" a Wolf Spider shouted.

The Android didn't even turn to look at the man he shot through the shoulder. The trooper screamed a lot, then disappeared in a burst of red lightning that signified his teleportation to the Port Recluse Reclaimators.

"Oh..." the gray android chuckled, "This is gonna be fun..."

Turning to the advancing troops, he waited for the others in his group to form up next to him. Mark Shadow wound up to his left, allowing enough room for the Warlock behind them to have a wide enough field of fire. Blizzard Front was to his right, with brother Mauthe and his shield generator bringing up the rear next to Simmons, creating a trapezoidal formation.

On the roof, Ashen Roast made for the nearest troop formation, hoping to dive into their center and cause enough damage that they would focus on him more than his "squishy" compatriots.

Solid didn't give him a chance. Flipping his personal rifle to Automatic, he let loose a stream of tungsten alloy ammunition that tore through the tightly packed squad and dropped the troopers in half a second. Their Huntsman dropped to his knees, gurgling a little as he disappeared in a brilliant, electric shade of red.

"Forward," Solid ordered as he and his companions started marching.

Now the Arachnos troops were playing somewhat smart. They would pop up left and right, up and down, always trying to take pot-shots at the gathered meta-humans and their android leader. Ashen Roast was able to intercept a couple, but the majority found themselves gunned and blasted down.

"Keep your rifle in your shoulder, like this," Solid explained to Shadow after he saw the Rogue miss for the fifth time, "Just like this! It minimizes the impact, and puts most of the support on your bones, not on your muscles... Plus, you can see down the sights more easily!"

"This really hurts my muscles, though..."

"You just have to do it more."

"Well, that's easy for you to say, you're a machine!"

"He's right, Marcus," Mauthe patted the Corrupter-class Rogue on the shoulder, "With practice, you'll get used to it and your shooting will improve."

A ball of fire fell behind the wall where the trooper was hiding. There was as scream as flames erupted from the alley and Cory returned to the ground.

"It is now safe to continue..."

After clearing a few streets, Ashen emerged from another alley and staggered next to the group.

"Bigger guys... Spider legs on their backs..."

"Crab Spiders," Solid Shot explained, "Get behind us..."

"Perhaps it would be best to set a trap for our foes," Mauthe explained, "Perhaps you have access to the devices many blaster-types-"

"No... Electricity..."

"Then we will have to make do..." Mauthe handed a device to Shadow, "Set this up at that corner, I'll set mine at this one. And Mark, it would be best if you placed your beacon before I did mine. Ashen, please keep with him..."

The tanker followed and Mark placed a peculiar triangular device on the ground. A green aura flowed from the device and Ashen could feel his body regenerating. Then the Mastermind and the Corrupter placed their acid mortars on the ground.

"Alright," Solid sounded if he had eyes, he'd be rolling them, "How do we get them over here?"

"That's being handled by another fellow," Mauthe replied as he pointed down the street, "I told you they would reveal their worth..."

"Whoo!" Brother Ringo shouted as he threw another Molotov cocktail behind himself, "Bring it!"

The large man in the trench coat behind him pushed the arsonist further along, taking a burst of energy in the back for his trouble.

"Move!" brother War grunted, "We've got to get them to Mauthe's beacon!"

Another burst of energy tore into his coat, revealing a plate of metal he had stitched in there to deflect such attacks. The metal heated and seared into his flesh, but the big man was able to take the pain.

Ringo, however, spun around out of the brute's path and took a side alley. War didn't have the time to come back and catch him, instead running on to the impromptu fortress the shooters had erected.

Unfortunately, the Crab Spiders stopped at the corner. Ringo, watching from the shadows, cursed silently to himself. It was why he'd done this, on the off chance the enemy would "lose interest."

"What do we do, sir?" one of the Crabs asked the Longfang squad leader.

"I would say we should continue pursuit... But he didn't match the description of the guys we're here for... Let's move on to-"

Brother Ringo charged out of the shadows, blowing fire through their ranks to cover his rush. Bullets fired around, some impacting on Crab Spider armor, other bullets whizzing by, almost all of them zinged around the Corrupter's head.

Slightly freaked out and with Crab Spider soldiers in hot pursuit, the arsonist charged for the ambush zone. Sliding into "safe" legs first, he looked back at the approaching troopers from the ground and extended his hand in a lewd gesture at them as the trap was sprung.

Acid mortars exploded in the air, coating the soldiers in an adhesive, armor eroding fluid. The gathered Heroes and Rogues proceeded to blast and brutalize the villainous minions. the figth was almost over before it began.

The Longfang hadn't followed his troops into the fray, however. He was too smart to fall for such an obvious trap. It was unfortunate that anarchy often ruled on the battlefield. As he turned to return to the main troop body and started radioing the location of these individuals who were causing him such a headache, a form emerged from the ground in front of him.

It looked like the earth was standing. Thinking it may be Devouring Earth, the Longfang fired a few rounds at it to deter it with pain for a moment. Unfortunately, it wasn't Devouring Earth.

King Slater's body emerged from the soil, shrugging off the dirt like it was a protective shell. He whipped his Black Mauler around and smashed the Longfang in the face as he tried to rush past. It bounced the massive man off the wall and Slater proceeded to pummel the squad leader into submission.

"Draven figured you guys needed some more close-range support," he said as he joined the group, "So, where to next?"

Solid pointed down the street.

"This way. Our job is just to keep the troops distracted and disorganized."

King Slater nodded and sank into the earth.

"No matter how many times he does that, it still freaks me out," Mark Shadow shuddered.

"Hey!" Solid shoved the Corrupter in the shoulder, "I'm the one who gets the last word in this one!"

((Solid Shot: Permission: Granted: Khellendrosiic))

Lord Recluse was looking through the datapad detailing the latest information related to his Web Device when the alarm klaxons rang. Perturbed, he gazed up to Black Scorpion and Scirocco.

"What is that?"

"Ah," Scirocco turned to a nearby monitor, "It seems to be Sharkhead Isle, sir..."

One of Black Scorpion's technicians examined the monitors at Captain Mako's station. For some odd reason, the Arachnos "Troubleshooter" wasn't available. They soon found out why.

"Sir, it seems he was already in Sharkhead, trying to stop an attempt to damage some information..." the technician scratched his head, "It seems he ran into other trouble..."

Lord Recluse rubbed his chin as he sat back in his throne and asked "Scrapyard's Ghost again?"

"No..."

----------

"I tore apart that blue-collar fool, Scrapyard!" the shark man shouted at Randall, "I can do the same to you!"

"I don't see ya doin' it," Randall replied gruffly before backhanding the lunging villain across the street, "All I see is a fish with arms and legs that doesn't know it's proper place is on my dinner plate!"

"I'll kill you!"

Captain Mako wrapped sunk his teeth into Randall's right wrist. The big tanker hefted the shark-man in the air and turned him about so he could see that Grey's facial expression hadn't changed. It turned out his skin was exceptionally tough, only a small trickle of blood escaped into Mako's mouth. He emitted a chuckle as he savored the flavor, but the tank still wasn't impressed.

"Clamp down as hard as you want, punk," Randall turned him around again and grabbed his foe by the throat, "It's not gonna help ya."

As he pulled the stalker from his hand, Mako released his grip before he lost some teeth. The villain then took a swipe at Randall but it was batted aside with the same hand he'd just been chewing on.

"I tore Scrapyard apart!"

"Yeah, but you can't keep livin' in old successes," Randall grunted back as he delivered a punch into the freak's stomach, "Now, get outta my sight!"

He tossed the Captain down the street, and the shark-man fled into the shadows. Randall harumphed that "he'll be back," before turning around to the thirty-odd heroes and rogues gathered behind him.

The Brutal Warriors Order, Brother Mauthe's Dregs, some of the heroes that worked with Agent Wild, the few "hero-modded" Ryats (Prime, 10, 24, 66, and 99) and a few of the heroes they'd worked with over the couple years they'd been in Paragon City all stared at the tank in open-mouthed awe. Then Mako attacked again, chomping into Randall's shoulder, jsut below the neck. As Solid Shot leveled his rifle on the shark-man's head, the tanker reached up and caught the monster by the back of it.

"Too soon?" Mako asked as he was wrenched off.

"Much too soon," Randall pitched him through a nearby wall, "You had an advantage last time, Mako... That's not here. I don't see myself as another Reverend King. I'm a big, powerful, ugly and angry man here to get what belongs to him. You go back to your goons and tell them to deliver or Gaia help me..."

He reached into the ground and pulled a massive boulder out of it. Nobody would have known the earth itself had actually delivered the stone to him.

"I will tear these islands apart looking for him," the tank grunted as he hurled the stone after Mako. It didn't hit, but the point had been made. At least, Randall hoped the point had been made.

"Are you alright, Randy?" Nester asked as he applied some healing nanites.

"Yeah... Just keep than green [scat] coming."

"Here," Nester applied another burst of nanites, "This should help in your next couple fights..."

Randall could feel his skin harden and his vision focus. He nodded at the results.

"I almost wish I could keep you with me," he grumbled, "But you're gonna be needed on Ced's team. Cedric, you take the Ryats, your brother-"

"Wait, Ryat10 can handle their healing needs," Nester interrupted, "I can still keep with your team, Boss."

"And it would be best if I simply acted alone," Ryat Prime explained, "That way, I can maintain plausible deniability with Arachnos and my mission for Longbow can remain secret."

"I don't know, brother," Ryat99 murmured, "It seems somebody out there is gonna notice you look like us."

Ryat Prime opened a panel in his wrist and an image of another android appeared. It looked a lot like Ryat Prime, only thicker and red.

"It's not me. It's just another one of those robot apocalypse types... Like Eighty-four. It controls prefab robots like I do, though, and emits shields. This is just one of the various androids that matches my description running around these islands. I'll be fine, so long as Arachnos doesn't get a solid description of me."

"Alright," Randall grunted, "Prime, you do what you do best. If I find out you've been [frigging] with us, though, I will personally dismantle you."

"I can assure you, there will be no [frigging] with you."

"Kip!"

"We should have done this yesterday," Kip grumbled, "Instead of getting wasted..."

"We still would have gotten wasted," the tanker replied with a chuckle, "and we'd need to do this aga-AUGH!"

Mako had a hold of Randall's root covered leg.

"That dirt taste good?"

"Mmph!" Mako pulled his mouth off the tanker's roots and spat out some soil, "P'too! P'too! Agh!"

"Yeah, there's magma deeper down there..."

"Ugh... That explains why my gums hurt through my teeth," the stalker started rubbing his mouth, "Um... I'm gonna walk away now..."

"Get lost, Fish Bait!" Solid Shot shouted, then hefted his rifle again, "Before I make you get lost!"

"Solid!" Randall cheered, "I want you to lead the general mayhem team... That'll be you, Mauthe and his crew, Cory, those two former Outcasts... I know you've got problems with villain-types, but these guys are all good, I'm tellin' ya."

"I look forward to the experience," Ashen Roast extended a hand to the combat android to shake.

"Whatever, punk, just don't slow me down."

"I'll go with them, too," Mark Shadow volunteered, "Like my dad always said, you can never have enough guns."

"Didn't they lock your dad away?" Randy arched an eyebrow at the younger man who now looked like a rip-off of a video game character.

"Yeah, but he was stupid."

Randall furrowed his brow at the hitman, then turned to the gray android.

"I can't say too much about him, Solid. If he acts up, you have my permission to castrate him electrically."

"Alright!" the combat droid cheered, "Wow, this job keeps getting better and better. Uh, Randall, Mako's on your arm again."

The tanker pulled his arm up and glared down at the shark-man.

"You see me rooted here, right?"

"Mreah..."

"And you've already busted and chipped a few teeth doing this, right?

"Mruh-huh."

"I don't show any signs of slowing down or even getting bothered, huh?"

"Mreah."

"Maybe you should stop."

"Mm-mm!"

"Alright..." Randall swung his arm about and wound up tossing Mako through a nearby window.

"Alright then... Back to business... Kip! Your team?"

"I'm taking Wrathfire, here," Kip indicated the lady in the blue armor-padded outfit next to him, "And the other heroes Wild lent us from his roster... Snuggle Purr, the catgirl; Eisenheartz, the armored tank; and Fire-Shield, the magician..."

"Hi, Nester," the orange-skinned girl waved to the medical defender, "I guess I'll be working with your brother this time..."

"He's good people," Nester assured her, "Trust me, he'll show the enemy a thing or two."

"Alright... I'll be taking Zeke, Char, Sarah and..." Randall turned to the blue-uniformed assault rifle blaster, "You."

"Everybody else, he says their name," Officer Joe Durnan growled, "He still just calls me 'you.'"

"Oh, he just doesn't like you!" Sarah hugged her fiance's arm, "Don't take it so personally. You could be anybody, do anything, and he'd still think of you as the guy taking his little girl away."

Randy loomed over the two of them. Somehow, his shadow only fell on Joe.

"I'm trusting you to keep my daughter safe, boy. Now's your chance to make sure I see it!"

"You're the tank!" Joe shouted back, "You! your job is to keep the bad guys off... I... I shoot them! Besides, I feel sorry for the nimrods that think they can corner Sarah... Didn't you hear what happened to that Arbiter that kidnapped her a couple days ago?"

"Yeah..." The ugly face moved closer to Joe's, "I hard about how she got kidnapped..."

"Daddy, stop," Snuffy pushed Joe aside so she was in her father's ugly face, "Joe does a fantastic job as a hero, and is a great guy for me. I really wish you could see that."

Randy grinned at his daughter.

"I know honey," he whispered, "I jsut like giving him a hard time."

"Wait," Joe started, "So that means-"

"It means shut yer trap!" the stone tanker shouted, causing Joe to take a few steps back.

"I'll be acting advisor," came a voice from down the street, "Mako! Get lost."

Captain Mako turned back to Power Breaker and hissed.

"You! The traitor!"

"Not until I raise a hand against Arachnos," the brute replied, "And as you and I both know, that can even be ignored, if not forgiven. Drawback of following chaos."

Randall turned and glowered down at the shark-man. The stalker turned back to see the tanker had noticed him and hissed again.

"Your campaign is doomed! No hero has ever raided the Isles like this..." Mako's eyes widened, "Not in such an organized fashion..."

"Right," Randall grunted, "So how do you know it won't work?"

Captain Mako didn't have an answer. The last time heroes had raided the Rogue Isles, it had been a controlled, minor effort. It was more of a probe to see what Arachnos and the Destined Ones were capable of, not a full-scale assault.

They also didn't have the dropship that was sighting in an anti-tank rocket on the single target that was the bad Captain.

"Pike off," Solo Stryker's voice emitted from the gray-armored vessel, "Or get toasted... The bad way."

Mako's eyes bugged out as he saw the laser sight on his left pect. He cursed something about "not being what Viridian told him about," and bounded away. He almost came back for one more taste of Randall, but figured that would be one too many before the big man started really doing something about it, and fled for the Flier in his base in Port Recluse.

"Alright everybody!" Randall shouted, "You've got your teams! On my word, unleash Hell!"

----------

"How can you be certain they do not want anything to do with me and my plans?" Recluse asked Scirocco, "They're heroes... And a few treacherous possible Destined Ones... Their whole existence is mired in making things difficult for me."

"It's just that... One of my students... A man named Power Breaker... He's been telling me they just want one of their friends back..."

"And how has he been doing that?"

Scirocco scratched the back of his head, "I... I do not know... I can hear his voice in the back of my head... I did not think he had access to the Aether..."

"Regardless," the spider king screwed his face up at his mystic adviser in consternation, "A show of force is necessary. I want all troops that can be mustered to defend our interests across the Isles. Now."

"Yes, M'Lord..."

((*Again: Solid Shot: Property: Khellendrosiic. Permission: Granted.*))

((Ventral guns, Khell. Ventral is along the "belly." Dorsal is along the "back."))

"Go granite, Randy," Cory's nose bled as he forced the thought through the Aether and started waving his hands.

A moment later, the form of Randall Grey arrived, bedecked in the hardened bedrock that was the signature of his brand of tanker. Forgoing his rooting at the moment, he charged at the Titan.

"Be careful," Simmons winced as he sent the thought through again.

"Next time just say it, boy," the tanker shouted back, "Gettin' through my skull's gonna be too damn hard!"

"Because it's so thick!" Ryat66 chirped, then noticed Cory's face, "Oh..."

"We should keep going," the wizard crushed a pink charm into his hand; the blood on his face cleared and his eyes uncrossed, "We need to stop those drones..."

"But, they warned the others already..."

"No..." Cory shook his head, "They didn't... That... That thing is not with them. Move!"

As the wizard and the hero-modded android pressed their pursuit, the tanker closed with the shipwreck. He pointed one of his massive granite fingers at the bizarre machine on top of it.

"Hey ugly!" Randy shouted as he picked up a chunk of debris and hurled it at the machine standing on top, "Show me what you got!"

As the combat android blazed away at the fleeing robots, Cory hovered overhead. He took to the sky when he determined a safe path to continue.

"I'll teleport you once I have them within range where they can't escape..." he called to the androids, "Just try not to shoot me!"

A trail of rapidly fading bodies lay in her subject's wake. Every corridor, every turn, every chamber, the Sky Raider had twisted, brutalized, torn and blasted his way through the Arachnos forces that stood between him and the database. Now that he had arrived, he faced the same great challenge that had nearly ended him earlier.

"I don't know how you made it this far," Ghost Widow glared at the cracked and bandaged form of Wing Commander, Captain Anthony Rachek, and laughed, "You can barely stand! You think you're getting into this database!?"

"Yeah," Rachek holstered his pistol, "I am."

With one fluid motion, he drew his machete, twirled it around for momentum and hurled it at the arch-villainess. It landed square in her abdomen, stabbing through and pinning her to the hatchway leading to the database. It would have, anyway, if Ghost Widow weren't a ghost...

"That was pathetic!" she cackled, "Maybe it's a good thing for the Sky Raiders I'll be putting this old dog to sleep..."

But Rachek wasn't listening. He was pulling on his wristguard. A panel emerged and he grumbled to himself, though Ghost Widow could hear.

"This won't kill you, but it'll get you out of my way long enough for me to finish the job."

He pressed the single red button on the panel and the machete exploded. It was a little known fact that Rachek had the weapon custom made, and even fewer knew of the actual custom options the Captain had incorporated. The most expensive option, and the one he had hoped to never use, was a small, experimental, nuclear device. It was essentially like mounting a sword on a hand grenade, a grenade capable of vaporizing a seven foot area (as the commander had, of course, toned down the weapon's effectiveness for such use).

Rachek was thrown back by the blast, and he could swear he felt something in his back crack from the impact wit the floor. Ghost Widow fared poorly. She was scattered across the base, her form unable to maintain its cohesion as the massive energy force disrupted her ethereal composition. Energy was energy, after all.

As the last of the Arachnos leader's screams died away, Rachek pushed himself up. It felt like his back was on fire. Something was definitely broken.

"Oh my God," one of the Arachnos technicians shouted as he looked out to the corridor, "What... What do you want?"

Rahcek drew his pistol and cocked back the hammer. After spitting out a tooth, he growled.

The technician ran back into the database chamber and out the rear exit, followed rapidly by the few others who were trying to help him transfer information to a different database.

"Three percent complete," the Sky Raider grumbled as he looked at the screen.

He leveled the muzzle at the machine and pulled the trigger. Fire exploded into the server, but Rachek didn't stop to watch. He marched through the chamber, blasting anything that whirred or beeped. Ice and fire tore through the machines, polymers and glass flew through the air. When he was done, that three percent of information on the heroes of Paragon City was all Arachnos was going to keep.

He started chuckling to himself as he reloaded. Certainly, somewhere down the line, that three percent was going to cause problems. For now, however, the super-powered populace of Paragon City was safe. He and his men would be free.

"At least, I hope so..." he grumbled, "But I've never known heroes to back out of their word..."

There was a clicking sound behind him. He turned to see a squad of Wolf Spiders, fresh from the Reclaimators, all with pistols drawn and sighted in on him. W.C. Rachek chuckled.

"What the Hell took you guys so long?"

"My God, he destroyed everything," one of the troopers breathed, "Fire!"

A bullet tore through the soldier's chestplate, and Rachek barked.

"Last I knew of Arachnos ranking, boy, you're not in command!"

"Kill-" the Huntsman started shouting the order to execute, but was interrupted by the sound of Sky Raiders porting in.

One of them slapped something against Rachek and the Wing Commander disappeared. The rest unloaded their assault weapons at the squad before following their target back to the Thunder Nimbus, floating two miles offshore in the water.

----------

"Are you alright?"

Captain Hostetler, another freshly promoted Raider, greeted Captain Rachek in the hospital bed of the airship. The vessel was moving again, now for the Wing Commander's fortress.

"I'm good..." the grizzled old man croaked, "Just... How did you guys know where to find me?"

"Captain Anderson called. He gave me your transponder codes and we've been monitoring your progress. We got a little worried when your health levels went critical and we registered your broken arm, but we couldn't bring you in with the med-evac. Figuring we had to come in closer, we dropped to the water and sailed closer. We saw your health wax and wane after that, I guess you were showing the spiders one Hell of a show!"

"Yeah, they won't be forgetting that anytime soon."

"Well, when you suddenly flatlined, we feared the worst. But... You're not dead..."

"My transponder was in my machete. I had to blow it up."

Captin Hostetler arched an eyebrow at his superior, but smiled.

"Wow... I guess it's that kind of crazy thinking that makes you Wing Commander."

"Where's Captain Martinez?"

"It's not his shift today, sir," Hostetler replied as he looked to the doctor, "How's he doin'?"

"Some broken bones, maybe some organ bruising, but nothing that looks too permanent," the medical officer replied, "Not bad for a fifty-year-old man."

"Yeah-heah," Rachek coughed, "Not bad for anyone."

----------

"So, why'd you do it?" Captain Anderson asked, "I mean, you didn't have any stake going in... You could've told the psychic c-"

"Watch it."

"Lady... You could've told her to stick it where the sun don't shine."

"I could have," Rachek took a few puffs on his cigar, savoring the flavor, "But then, I wouldn't have known."

"Known what?"

"I wouldn't have known what's been bothering me these past couple years. Sure, it's been fun, hittin' the city, stealing stuff, makin' money... Or even the mercenary work, shootin' guns, blowin' [stuff] up..."

"Sir?" Anderson had never heard his friend talk like this before, "That sounds really... Juvenile."

"That's exactly my point," Rachek growled, "We, you and me, Anderson, we joined Vigilance to help people. To protect them. Duray did, too."

"So?"

"So? That's the whole point! I wanted to see if I could do this! If I could do something to help people instead of just my own wallet!"

"But you did ask for something in return..."

Rachek nodded. Psyche had told him in a psychic conversation while he recuperated that Longbow records were being updated. Not all of the crimes were forgivable, and some of his men were still being charged with things he was certain they didn't do. For that, he was coordinating with his own book keepers to find the real individuals responsible so he could clear their names. If their names couldn't be cleared, then Rachek intended to have them shipped out of his units.

The things they were accused of... The Wing Commander didn't want anybody that cruel in his command.

"Yeah... But we're gonna need it in the future, Bruce. We're gonna need those pardons."

"Why?"

Rachek sat back silently and enjoyed his cigar. Anderson looked at his old friend sternly, but his face eventually softened.

"I'll check in on ya tomorrow, Old Man. Get some rest."

"What the Hell was that, Ryat?" Sheldon hissed as the two left the train, "I've never seen you lose your cool like that before... And don't start making ice puns!"

"I had an emotional reaction," the android shrugged, "Ice puns? Oh... Right."

"Well, how did it happen? You're usually in better control of yourself than that! I'd expect this kind of reaction from Sixty-six or Ten, or Thirty... Not from you!"

"Sixty-six would have outright ignored him, but you're probably right about Ten and Thirty. Good thing Thirty doesn't have any weapons."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because Thirty... Thirty's strange, Sheldon. Not like Eighty-four... He... She... I'm not sure how Thirty sees itself, all I know is that Thirty prays. A lot."

Sheldon arched an eyebrow at his robotic friend.

"So, what do you think caused the mercenary's reaction to you and the robotic mastermind?" Ryat99 asked.

"Well, the one named Vern indicated he may be extra-terrestrial, so I'm thinking he may come from a world where their technological advancement never made it past the Industrial Age. Their scientific and technological arcs then turned more toward Bionetics, using living creatures and plants, to facilitate what we would call technological needs. However, when confronted with what they'd consider 'technology run amok,' they get offended. At least, that's about the worst example I can imagine."

"Hm. Well, I guess that makes some sense. There's plenty other stuff leading to that line of thought that works just as well."

"You didn't answer my question."

"About why it's good Thirty doesn't have weapons?"

"Right," Sheldon intoned, "Why is that a good thing?"

"Because Ryat Thirty can't act out its zealotry. There have been some intense conversations between it and some of the other Ryats... Ryat Seventy-two, notably. Seventy-two actually has notions similar to that mercenary... Just not nearly so submissive. He believes that we have a purpose in life, and that we must find it. I don't know why he keeps getting so bothered when Thirty talks about its beliefs, but their arguments have frequently come to blows."

Sheldon hummed about that. He started figuring that in order to get to the bottom of this whole source code problem, he would have to get more involved in the lives of his androids. And that was just one of the problems seeming to crop up.

"Are either of their notions spreading?"

"No," Ryat99 replied almost with a chuckle, "so far each of the others have kept to themselves, trying to explore their own lives. We still all do the work assigned to us as a group, but then it's all about efficiency and getting the job done, not interpersonal relationships."

"Oh man..." Sheldon blinked a couple times, "How many people have run across you guys?"

"Lots, but then, there are still a lot of androids and robots out there as it is. We're not treated as anything special or unique. So far, no villain groups have shown any interest in us."

The pair followed where the leaders of the expedition took them. Their position was roughly toward the middle of the formation.

Randall stood casually on the bridge. The combat had gotten away from him, but he felt good about the work he'd done. Turning to Cory and Ryat66, who were now moving to pursue the fleeing enemies, he smiled and "unflexed" his armor.

Feeling the rain fall upon his face, he sighed. Things were going well, but he still had a bad feeling about things.

-----

Cory flew on ahead. Ryat66 tried to keep up, but he was hampered in the corridors, unable to leap properly. The wizard caught up behind Solid Shot and hurled a fireball at the nearest fleeing machine.

Behind him, Ryat66 leaped and fired. His aim wasn't so good, however, as the energy beam scored across the ceiling.

"Damn," the android shouted as he picked himself up, "That would've been so Boss if that had hit!"

"Well, keep moving!" Simmons shouted, "We cannot allow them to escape and warn their fellows!"

The android was bracing himself for one more, better aimed shot. Rarely used in the heat of a fight, the sniper blast was his last desperate chance to contribute more to the cause.

"Locked on... FIRE!" he shouted as a thin beam of concentrated energy exploded from his wrist pod and arced toward the nearest fleeing robot, "WHOO!"

I thought there were a few different Captain Marvels...

The cosmic being is immortal, but the "avatars" or "hosts" (the distinction in this particular case was never made quite clear, though it leaned heavily on "avatar") were vulnerable to all sorts of harm.

"If you have no interest," the android lowered his head to bring his gaze level with the mercenary flanked man, "Then keep out of the conversation. Concern yourself with other problems, not mine."

Icicle spikes started to protrude from his armor, largely from the patches of ice that made up much of the inertial dampening portion of his protection. A sword grew from the machine's left hand.

"Not unless you wish to truly learn for which purpose I was built."

"Ninety-nine, stand down," Sheldon ordered, "For your own sake."

The machine stood upright and regarded his builder for a moment. Turning back to Drechi, he hummed a note that sounded almost inquisitive.

"Interesting. I should play this moment back some more... I had more of an emotional reaction than I expected. I apologize for the perceived insult, master Osh'kan. It was made without clearly thinking through the possible consequences."

The ice weaponry immediately faded, drawn back within the android's body and Ryat99 walked away to stand next to Sheldon. The inventor turned to Drechi and narrowed his eyebrows, but he said nothing, hoping the subtle hint to let the issue go would get across.

"I think I would have that receipt on my credit card history," Sheldon muttered.

"I don't see why you're getting so emotional about this," Ryat99 said as he looked pointedly at Drechi, "Though, your behavior indicates that you may have lost a machination you once constructed and cared for more deeply than you may be willing to admit."

"No..." Sheldon gasped slowly, "Ninety-nine... no..."

"Hey Bob... I've been wondering..."

"Yeah Gus?"

"We work for Arachnos, we get these snazzy outfits, and we basically have the run of the islands, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, what's with all the evil overtones? I mean... We could be altruistic, too, for just as much effort... Maybe even less. I feel like I'm making an effort to be evil, you know?"

"I know, Gus. It does feel strange."

"Maybe we should put it in the suggestion box..."

"Remember Lewis?"

"No..."

"Lewis, wiry guy... Kinda whiny..."

"Oh yeah."

"Yeah, he was the last guy to use the suggestion box."

"...Oh..."

"Yeah... Ghost Widow's Tower was full of his screams for about two minutes."

"Wait... Wasn't that about the same time the Boss Lady went on that convalescent leave?"

The two Wolf Spiders looked out to the horizon from the wall of Fort Cerberus.

"Yeah," Bob finally answered, "She must have devoured his soul... And it made her sick. Man... Even the undead need to worry about what they eat."

"Well, if I were a zombie or a ghoul, I'd want to eat quality brains, you know what I'm saying?"

"Gus... Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Taking the conversations in weird directions... Saying things you should really knock on wood on... There's no wood here, Gus."

"W-"

"Stop."

"Okay," Gus looked over the edge again.

The Wolf Spider was rewarded with a vicious kick to the face as Agent Wild leaped up. The Freedom Corps Agent then turned to Bob, who was only able to get out a "Ah, crap" before being punted over the side of the fortress wall.

A patrol of Wolf Spiders was making its way to the pair to subsume and relieve the troopers of their duty so the dawn shift could move in. Upon seeing the intruder, they prepared their pistols to put the agent down.

A flurry of blows put down three of them. The others turned too late to find Martin Sanders emerging from their shadows and pummeling them into submission or draining their life away.

"Clear... Begin the attack," Agent Wild said into his comlink.

The Longbow troops on the beach below appeared at the wall, then. Sanders and Wild had equipped each of them with minor anti-grav packs, and with some careful maneuvering they were able to find the best positions to enable them to vault over the walls into the base.

"Alright!" Wild shouted to the operatives, "Our priority is to cause a distraction... So let's make some noise!"

----------

"What the Hell?" Rachek asked as he could have sworn he was hearing explosions from above.

They were looking across a grated bridge that led to the basement entrance to Fort Cerberus. It was the location of the second database of hero information, and the end of their mission.

For a second, Rachek was figuring things would be more difficult. There had been a number of Arachnos troopers waiting on the other side of the bridge, but at the last second, they put their hands to their helmets, listened for a few seconds, then shouted "Yes, sir!" before rushing up to the main sections of the fortress.

"They must not think this is a major access point," Gregory Caid arched an eyebrow, "Something seems dangerous about that kind of thinking."

"Either that, or they think something else is going on..."

The sounds of gunfire and explosions resumed, louder than before. There were even some echoes rattling through vents and various drains that led into the section of sewers they currently inhabited.

"I don't now who it is, villains or Longbow," Gregory muttered as he pushed himself up and started heading across the walkway, "But this is too good an opportunity to pass up."

The rusty, grated walkway overlooked an oddity in the Rogue Isles. The oddity being the impossibly deep pit that made up this particular chamber of the sewers that ran under Mercy Island.

"This reminds me of some of those old videogames," The elder Caid brother chuckled, "Remember those, Mider?"

"Those things rot the brain," the wizard replied.

"Come on, boys, less chatter, we've got work to do and not much time to do it."

Greg made it halfway across the bridge and stopped again. He turned to Rachek, who was about to say something, but he felt it, too.

It had suddenly gotten a lot colder.

It wasn't cold like a temperature drop. It was cold in a way that permeated your very soul. It was cold in a way that was wholly unnatural.

"You don't think-" was all Gregory got out before a dark tendril wrapped around his waist, picked him up, and tossed him screaming over the edge.

Rachek dropped down and unhooked the latches holding the shield generator strapped to his back. The machine activated in mid-fall, initiating its hover just centimeters from hitting the deck. Rachek glared up darkly at the source of the dark cloud that had tossed the scrapper.

"Yeah," he grunted at his fallen ally's unfinished question, "I do think."

Ghost Widow floated in the air above him and to the side of the bridge. Her hair whipping around furiously, she glowered down at the hero and the Sky Raider. Again, it seemed to get colder in the room.

"I'm not ready for this," the wizard whispered to Rachek.

"You fools!" the Arachnos general shouted down at them, "Did you really think you could sneak into my domain (my very home!) without me noticing? I know of your endeavors, and I can assure you that you will meet with failure!"

"Well, are ya gonna keep talking or are you gonna do somethin'?" Rachek shouted back.

There was a thunderous roar at the other end of the bridge. The Wing Commander turned to see the Widow's favorite bodyguard, the Wretch, standing there.

"You're not worthy of my-"

"Yeah, yeah," Rachek drew his machete and started advancing on the brute, "Heard it a hundred times, it always sounds the same..."

"You cur! Paolo! Finish him..." she smiled wickedly, "...Slowly..."

"Slowly..." the Wretch grumbled as it advanced on the Sky Raider.

Anthony Rachek was not a pushover. He had lived a long time doing dangerous work. A lot of his fellows even wondered at his choice of uniform, which was a dark blue that was normally chosen by the secretive society known as the Malta Group.

Rachek was not a member of the Malta Group, however, by any means. Instead, he wore the outfit for a different (yet related) reason. He wore it to commemorate his last meeting with a Malta Group Gunslinger. He wore it every day as a constant reminder of what happened to people who always thought they had everything under control. He also wore it to remind the Malta Group not to mess with him.

That Gunslinger had fared poorly. He had drawn on Rachek at the worst possible range: melee range. Normally, a Gunslinger would have had no problem hitting a target like the Wing Commander at that distance. However, Anthony Rachek was quick and pragmatic, and knew that to most easily finish the fight, he just had to cut the operative's outstretched hands off.

He also kept the modified hunting pistols, one of which he drew, aimed at Wretch's midsection, and fired. A bullet of ice exploded, slowing the oncoming brute, and Rachek shifted his stance, bringing his sword arm closer to his target.

His back was turned to Ghost Widow now, but she was no longer his concern. Mider Caid took a few tentative steps away from the opening in the wall. As the undead witch glowered down at him, the Inevitable emerged. This was unexpected, and it actually drew a look of shock from the Widow.

"What is that?"

"Death by Clockwork," Mider Caid answered sheepishly as the Inevitable leaped at her.

The propellers extended and the construct was flitting in the air around her, firing electric bursts from its right hand. Energy was energy, and Ghost Widow actually felt the jolts of lightning lashing at her from all sides. She screamed and returned the assault with her own dark attacks.

The effect, much to the villainess's aggravation, was severely muted. The Inevitable was a construct, not a living being, and the dark energies did little to harm it. There wasn't even a brain inside the head.

-----

On the Longbow freighter offshore, Penelope Yin winced. She could feel some of what the machine she was directing was going through. Sometimes, she wondered why all of those tanks did what they did.

-----

Rachek hacked across the Wretch's right wrist before the brute could complete his next swipe. He then brought the blade across the belly before shoulder tackling the massive mutant. The tackle was largely ineffective. The Wretch looked down and laughed a little at the older man.

There was a clicking sound as Rachek shifted his assault rifle from his back to his left hand. The holstered the pistol and gripped the assault rifle pistol grip in one seamless motion. As the Wretch tried to figure out this subtle play at misdirection as the Wing Commander squeezed the trigger and emptied the magazine into the monster's torso.

The Wretch responded by roaring and swatting the rifle aside, only to get slashed across the throat. Suddenly, the momentum dropped. The Wretch gripped his neck and looked worriedly at Rachek. The Sky Raider responded by uppercutting him in the jaw with the hand guard of the machete. The big body was wrapped in lightning and disappeared before it hit the steel grating. He wasn't dead, but he wouldn't be in good condition at the Arachnos reclaimator.

"PAULO!" Ghost Widow shouted.

Suddenly, the Inevitable was gripped in a force greater than any Ghost Widow had used before. The witch slammed the machine against the wall, and turned her attention on the old man.

"I always figured as much," he chuckled hollowly, "You've still got a heart, even if you're not attached to it..."

Ghost Widow didn't actually say anything. Her scream was wordless. A cloud of various kinds of dark attacks erupted from her, all aimed at the Wing Commander. Rachek had only one option.

He leaped off the side of the walkway backwards, barely escaping getting blasted into oblivion by negative energy. The cloud covered his escape, but now he had to worry about the landing...

Mider Caid bolted for the other side of the walkway. Unfortunately, Ghost Widow noticed him instead of turning her attention back to the Inevitable. A dark explosion erupted next to him and when the darkness cleared, the young wizard was gone.

Still not satiated, Ghsot Widow pulled the Inevitable from the wall and smashed the construct against it repeatedly. Satisfied with the damage done, she brought it close before eroding the steel parts by rusting them away. When she finally dropped the broken hulk, it crumbled to pieces in mid-air. A shower of parts rained down below, the echo of their clinks and clanks bringing a satisfied smile to the villainess's cold lips.

The shield drone still hovered over the walkway. Realizing its proprietor was no longer around, it gave a few sad beeps and exploded violently. The platform gave a few creaks and groans before falling away from its supports. The grated steel platform hung dangerously from the edge of the opening the strike team had emerged from, but did not fall.

----------

"Agh!"

Rahcek awoke lying on a pile of garbage. That didn't mean he was at all in any good condition. He could feel his left arm throbbing, and his back didn't feel to be in any kind of good shape.

"Yeah" he grunted when he checked, "Broken."

His right arm had landed on top of him. Somehow, that had kept the same thing from happening to it. His machete was off to the side, stabbed blade down into the garbage. His rifle was laying to his left, seemingly still in good condition.

"Not likely," he grunted.

"I thought I heard something," someone growled.

"Caid," he croaked, "I was hoping you survived..."

"Barely," the wolfish man helped the Sky Raider up, "And not without some... Alteration."

"Is that permanent?"

"I don't really know. I should hope not... I was rather popular with the ladies..."

"I could probably heal you," another voice said, the younger Caid brother, "But it will take time..."

"No... No..." Rachek took a pack from his cargo pocket, "Bandages... Enough to make a makeshift sling. Look, boys, this job's a bust. You better get the Hell out of here before they realize you didn't wind up in their med-porter prison."

"Right," Gregory agreed quickly, "I've scoped out a few good grates that might get us back up there..."

"No, I meant get the Hell out, now."

"We can't do that, the mission isn't over..."

"I never said it was," Rachek finished tying the knot of his makeshift sling with his teeth and his right hand.

He was fortunate. The left hand could still move and grip. That made this next part easy.

"What are you doing?" Mider asked.

"I'm lashing myself back together, boy."

"I should at least pop your arm back in place," Gregory offered.

"Hit it."

Racheck bit into the knot again. Before Mider could stop his wolf-man brother, the scrapper had taken a hold of Rachek's arm and set the bone back in place in one quick motion. The old man roared into the knot and a few tears escaped his eyes, but he recovered from the pain quickly.

"It helps when it goes numb..."

He gave his left hand another test. Somehow, he was getting a modicum of control.

"Heal me a little," he grunted and Mider glowed briefly.

The feeling returned to his arm. It was now a dull throb of subtle pain, but he could control his left hand again.

"You can't take them on your own," Mider warned, "They'll tear you apart."

"Wrong. They'd tear you apart. Me? I got a secret on them that will tear 'em a new one... I just need my machete..."

He picked the weapon out of the trash and sheathed it. Then, turning to his assault rifle, he started checking it over. It had landed flat in soft stuff, maybe he was luckier than he thought. Giving it a quick shake first, he strapped the weapon around his neck and under his right shoulder. When he checked to make sure the pistol was still on his right thigh, he gave a thumbs-up to the Caid brothers.

"You boys get out of here. This mission is over for you. You go on back to the F.C. and tell them I went on and finished the job."

"How will we know you succeeded?" Mider hissed.

"You'll know."

Ryat99 nodded.

"That's not a question I like to consider, Toy Dispenser. Yes, I do believe I'm sentient. I have had to think through difficult problems and decide from multiple answers. I have had to make difficult choices, and I didn't merely decide based on 'survival statistics.' For instance, a little girl's life is more valuable than an older man's, though I was fortunate there were other heroes to help save the man from the burning building. Still, I made that choice, and it was based off the closest thing to emotion as I can believe I'm capable of feeling at this point in time."

He rubbed the back of his head.

"I refer to myself as a 'he,' despite my androgynous makeup. Aside from my voice, I feel my personality is most decidedly 'male.' As for my sentience..."

The android paused. Sheldon leaned in close. Others wouldn't have known but he was genuinely interested in why Ryat99 was sentient. He hadn't actually written the code that made him what he was, Wallace had just stumbled on it while he cruised the information networks while feverish from sleep deprivation.

"Honestly," Ryat99 took a seat, "I don't know where my sentience comes from. My siblings are all different personalities, all different walks of life. Some are sweet and innocent, others curious and questioning. One has a heart as black as Hell. but our source code is all the same. The sparks that enable us to begin our existence always have turned out different for every model of Ryat. Not I, my creator there, or any of my siblings have figured out why."

"Giving you a copy of the source code wouldn't do you any good," Sheldon sighed to the android, "Certainly, I'd be willing to let you try, but it's only successfully been copied once, and that was when I was helping an old friend set up a superior security system when he didn't have the systems or materials for one of his own. It wound up getting deleted during a super-powered conflict of epic proportions, but it served its purpose. Every other attempt to release the Ryat Source Code to individuals who could help me understand it, from the offices at D.A.T.A. to even Synapse and Positron themselves, has met with failure. It learns that it's not with me or the Ryats just self destructs. Things that aren't possible have happened. CDs melting in freezers, hard drives exploding into confetti... I've seen them run the gamut."

"Perhaps we weren't meant to learn the truth about it until we're ready, Boss," Ryat99 said glumly, "And I guess it has to be one of us that figures it out."

"I don't know why I don't worry about the secrets of my make-up being discovered. Probably because most of my makeup can be found in about every other robot in the world," Ryat99 shrugged, "Sheldon used parts from just about every machine in Paragon he could get his hands on, Clockwork, Mech Men, Nemesis Automatons, Malta Titans... There's even a few Arachnos pieces in here somewhere..."

"All thrown together with 'madness,'" Sheldon wiggled his fingers to emphasize how tired he was getting of the whole "Mad Scientist" concept.

"About the only thing different is the metal and polymer shell," the big android indicated the plating he had just changed into with a light tap to his chest, "And the cooling system, which provides the basis for my armor and much of my assault weaponry... Besides, the actual internal workings of my structure aren't actually revealed during the armor-changing process. I didn't realize parts of you were exposed. In that case, defending yourself, in any environment, becomes a top priority. I understand now, and apologize if I touched upon a sore subject."

"And before you ask, yes, Clockwork parts are in me. Specifically, the Tesla Coil designs that enable the little junk machines to throw all that damn lightning. I utilize a derivative of the design to facilitate a 'self resurrection' as it were."

"Only a few of the Ryats have it," Sheldon explained, "The ones I figured would wind up in bad situations."