Smersh

I've not heard of anyone doing it, but that in and of itself does not meant it cannot be done.

Good luck.

Officer Tanya Palmer knocked on the door. Her hand struck a precise four inches below the chrome name plate that read Sergeant Jonathan Knight. A muffled voice spoke permission within, and she opened the door a fraction and stuck her head within.

Most of the police department had a certain quality to it, a combination of cleanliness and use. The lines were all clean and the metal all polished, but work surfaces were stacked with papers and evidence, indicating officers more concerned about doing the job than keeping an orderly facade. Not so this office; Sergeant Knight's private sanctum was austere and sterile, devoid of any hint of disorder.

"They're here, sir," Officer Palmer advanced. Sergeant Knight looked up, a broad shouldered man with an air of invincible competence. Jonathan smiled, and beckoned with a hand, indicating that she should send in the two men he had chosen for this meeting.

The door closed for a moment, and fifteen seconds later, it opened fully. The first man entered, wearing Praetorian Police issue armor. He was stocky and short, perhaps four inches short of six feet, but sauntered in and sat easily in the right-hand chair, sitting up ramrod straight and attentive. Dark eyes fixed him from a rugged face framed by blue locks, tied up with a red headband.

Jonathan nodded and looked to the other man, who was closing the door behind himself and leaning against the wall of the spartan office. The second man was dressed as though he was a fashion model for Praetoria Weekly, dapper in his purple jacket and pin-striped pants, red tie held firmly in place by a diamond clasp. He was a handsome man, with a cleanly shaved head and neatly trimmed goatee.

Jonathan waited for a few seconds before beginning. "Gentlemen, thank you for coming on such short notice. I am Sergeant Jonathan Knight, and I will be in charge of this little venture. I have selected the two of you for your service records and special abilities. Naturally, this mission is top secret, and it will have you both away from home for some time. I trust you have both made arrangements?"

The blue-haired man crisply said, "Yes sir." The bald one nodded coolly.

Jonathan depressed a hidden stud, and the lights in the white-and-chrome office lowered, and the holographic projector whirred to life from the desk. Images sprang to life as Jonathan spoke. "The mission will take us to what is called by its inhabitants 'Primal Earth.' You may be aware of the recent incursions by forces from that dimension, from several competing armed factions." The first image was a suburban housing area torn by war, a group of heavily armed soldiers clad in red and white battling Praetorian Police. "Longbow."

A second image appeared, of an armored soldier with four extra limbs protruding from his back, restrained within a Behavioral Adjustment Facility cell. "Arachnos."

Another picture, this one hazy and ill-focused, of a man in a long coat and broad-brimmed hat. "Vanguard."

Jonathan let this image stay still as he continued. "At the highest levels, all of these are considered a major threat to our way of life. We may encounter these foes, and more, during our mission, but none of them are associated with our primary objective. What we have is a sanction for a specific individual, who may be a key figure behind these assaults."

The next picture was of the Rift, the Praetorian dimensional teleporter, under heavy guard by TEST Rangers. "We will proceed to this 'Primal Earth' and attempt to capture or kill this individual. We will be operating without any sort of backup, and without any equipment besides what we bring with us or can scavenge. It is an undercover operation, the blackest of the black.

The image changed to that of the blue-haired man. "Officer Connor Boone, codename Spellcheck. Your work with the Paranormal Special Operations Branch is exemplary. I consider the reprimands in your file to be meritorious, not detrimental. You and I both know that uncontrolled magic is extremely dangerous to the state, and I consider your excessive use of force to be totally justified." The bald man looked a bit nervous at this statement. Jonathan continued, "Our target may not be a magician per se, but he has certainly been touched by extranormal powers. Your insights will be invaluable."

The image de-rezzed, and a three-dimensional representation of the bald man appeared. "Investigator King Solomon Jones. Licensed magician, first class, specialist in summoning, binding, and channeling. Reports indicate that background magic counts are much higher on Primal Earth, and your spells should be that much more potent. Your flexibility and experience beyond that of the usual Praetorian investigator will prove most useful. I expect that Officer Boone will manage to treat you with respect during the mission, and that you will do the same."

Boone raised his hand. "Yes, officer?" Jonathan inquired.

"Sir, if you don't mind my asking, I am curious as to your special qualifications. You seem to know a lot more about Investigator Jones and myself than we know about you," Boone said respectfully.

Jonathan smiled. "I have transdimensional experience and a thorough knowledge of our target. You'll both be issued a dossier once we get there." He pulled up the last image.

"This is our target," Jonathan said. "He may not look like much, but he's smart, he's lucky, and his personal combat skills are second to none. He'll be a tough nut to crack. Final briefing will be after dimensionfall. Are there any questions?"

"Yeah," said Jones. "When do we get started?"

"We'll be leaving in twenty-two hours. Meet me here, and we will proceed," Jonathan answered.

Boone stood and saluted. "For the Emperor," he said.

Jonathan stood and returned the salute. "For the Emperor."

The two men left, and Jonathan smiled to himself. While he had dodged around the truth artfully...

...only the last bit had been an outright lie.

How about a genre-inventor?

A Better Tomorrow, Hong Kong, 1985. Starring Chow Yun Fat.

This is considered the original John Woo directed Hong Kong blood opera. The action isn't as refined as it would be later, but I do feel that it contains Chow's finest acting performance, and it certainly launched an industry.

There were a pair of sequels. I haven't seen the third film, but the second is an interesting mishmash between John Woo and Tsui Hark's direction.

The final reel is the first time Woo had the budget for a big climatic gun battle, and is quite spectacular.

I'll also submit a Japanese film, The Returner. You can see the budget constraints, but it's an interesting take on Terminator-style time travel.

The only power you should skip is Confront - it isn't terribly useful, and if you want a bad guy to pay attention to you, kick it in the face.

I wouldn't suggest worrying too much about slotting and the like until you get into your mid-twenties. Until then, you can just use what drops for you.

The premiere attacks in Martial Arts are Storm Kick, Cobra Strike, Crane Kick and Crippling Axe Kick. Take at least three of them, don't neglect your defenses, and arrest some bad guys.

Once you have a better feel for the game, we can start to hone your character. For now, you picked a scrapper, and it's really hard to make a bad scrapper unless you go out of your way to make deliberately bad choices.

Just remember to slot accuracy and damage in your attacks, put in some endurance reducers if your blue bar is going down too quickly, and you should be just fine. Join a couple of teams, gain some levels, have fun.

My wife and I were watching Hellboy last night, and I suggested that Guillermo Del Toro should do a remake of Labyrinth.

And retain David Bowie for it.

If they added voice chat to this game, I'd have teams that expected me to listen to them.

No thanks. I prefer text.

Hey, Arcana...

You're arguing with Durakken.

He's the one who seriously argued to me that manufacturing costs for electronics drop 50%... every single year. (Of course, that thread is gone, but he never did address my assertion that Apple should sell first-gen iPods, because they would cost only pennies to manufacture...)

I know more about engineering than he does, and my field of studies is in the social sciences.

If it does not include high-definition versions of the original cut of episodes 4-6, there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Pardon me while I go old school and say they're all ripping off Time Tunnel.

By popular demand, I'll pull the character back out this weekend.

I've just had other projects.

Your timezones have the West Coast starting an hour earlier than the East Coast.