Grey's Army

What follows are the catalogued adventures fo Grey's Army. Please enjoy, feedback is appreciated. Please use e-mail so as not to disrupt the story...

"Die, Grey!"

That's the best he can come up with before I'm being riddled with bullets. If it weren't for this rock stuff growing inside and around me, I'd probably be dead. Instead, the bullets bounce harmlessly, and I glare at this Council soldier who just emptied his magazine at a hero many times his superior.

"I'm in a good mood, chump," I growl at him, "So I'm going to give you a chance to run away. Drop your gun and get out of here."

He complies and I take his weapon. Maybe my tech man will be able to do something with it.

A couple miles down the road, my second-in-command, Kipland Durj, is putting the hurt on Crey's security forces. They seem to have jumped on the neighborhood and put the squeeze to it. Crey says they don't know of the actions of these employees, and that they could just as easily be Council or even Sky Raiders troops in disguise. I haven't seen Sky Raiders in so long... But the common people have, and they see them on a daily basis. Crey's claims of innocence play well on the ears fo normal people. It doesn't help that the company also has enough domestic projects that just provide cheap, everyday items for the public's use.

It's hard for me to remember that when I'm clearing Peregrine Island of Crey Snipers. They tell me that they thought I was a Zeus Titan they were trying to distract before I send them screaming over the ledge of the building. I meet them on the ground to finish the job. They've got a lot of peculiar systems in them, almost as if they're as cybernetic as the Freakshow, just not so obviously.

I groan as my communicator bleeps. Looking down, I see Sheldon Wallace, my tech man, has something new for me to check out. I admire Kip's performance for a little while longer, he just side-kicked an Enforcer off the side of a building. The metal-cased security soldier must've blacked out during his flight, his body just crumples when it hits the ground. A moment later, a police drone zips by and zaps him up because of the tag Kip left on him. Gotta love those things.

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

I figured Mr. Grey would've been more enthusiastic about this. Well, as enthusiastic as a seemingly stoic individual like him can get.

"Sheldon, what is this?"

He gestured to the robot I had suspended above the worktable. It was small, blue, and had little three fingered claws for hands. I can't really make normal hands yet.

"It's a new robot," I replied, "It-"

"Is this a new threat?" he growled at the machine, "Coming into Paragon? What threat level is it?"

"No! No!" I waved my hands in front of his face, which was difficult because he towered over most people, "I built this! From pieces of machines you, Kip, and the others bring here!"

"What?" He didn't sound pleased.

"Meet Ryat66, one out of a series of eighty five so far that I've built. The eighty fifth is my first venture into a heavy model for more strenuous tasks..."

"Are you insane?" Randy roared at me, "You built this out of the parts of villain group robots!? You're building robots!?"

"I-"

"Don't you realise that's what villains do!? They make other things to do their dirty work for them! Is that what you're doing here!?"

"No! No, that isn't what this is at all!" Randy's an imposing man, but I had to hold firm to my guns, I knew that I was trying to help people, "I built them to help with the reconstruction effort, Mr. Grey. Honestly!"

"Reconstruction?" his voice softened, so that was a good sign, "Like what?"

"Well, for a field test, we took a set of Ryats to Boomtown... er... Baumton, and put them to work clearing debris..."

"We?"

"Well, myself, Matthew, and..." I stammered, "Uh, Snuffy..."

"My daughter."

"Yeah..."

"How many machines?"

"Up to 84. I didn't want to put Ryat 85 to work yet, a lot of its systems are still untested. Anyway, they were performing so well at their clearing, I decided to have them try to build some structures. Nothing I expected to stay, mind you, just some quick efficiency tests using available materials..."

"What happened?"

"We could never have expected the attack, sir," My voice cracked a little, "I lost nearly thirty Ryat class construction robots... The Clockwork apaprently didn't like them that much..."

"I'd believe so," Randy snorted, "I'd expect CK King and Big Babs don't like machines that have some of their parts inside of 'em."

"Quite right," I sighed, "Well, Matthew went down fighting. There were well over a hundred attacking us, and some of the Prince class Clockwork, too. Matthew gave Snuffy and me a chance to escape, but we were nearly surrounded."

"If my little girl got hurt, Wallace..."

"She's fine, sir! I was using my kinetics adjustment devices to help us speed away as fast as possible. However, the Clockwork were closing in around us, and the exit was almost beyond reach."

"How'd you get out of there? Red Cross Express?"

"No sir. As Snuffy, er... Sarah and I started to fight, and things were looking hopeless... She uses her latent psychic abilities, sir, it's not effective against those machines... We were surprised when Ryat 66 here started firing condensed blasts of energy at the nearest Clockwork to us. He also used his electrical system to short out any of the robots that got too close to him. Other Ryats were doing similar work, but at nowhere near the capability of 66."

Randall walked over to the robot hovering above the worktable. He gazed down at the inhibitors I had left strewn about, then looked back up at the machine. It was deactivated, so it couldn't know what was going on.

"He, and the other Ryats, saved our lives. Well, Matthew owes the hospital a fee for their work at resuscitating him, and I have to fix my other robots, but other than that, we're fine."

"Hm..." Randall stroked his beard, "Here's what I can say to ya. Longbow is not going to look favorably on this. I've been doing this hero thing for a sight longer than you have, Sheldon, and I have the clearance to show for it. So I can tell you with some confidence that most of the hero community will not appreciate these machines. In fact, they'll downright fear them. Rumor has it, the Nemesis started as a toy maker."

"I undrstand, sir."

He turned to me, and his normally gruff face suddenly looked warm and thoughtful.

"However, I can see you're trying to make something good here. I'll try and see if I can get you an audience with some of the local construction firms. They might appreciate your assistance, plus the added security your machines provide. So... What's with the inhibitors?"

"Oh..." I breathed a sigh of relief before continuing, "I'm thinking about getting Ryat 66 signed on as a hero. First off, he shorted out his power core with the stress of the battle. I had to entirely replace it with a Zenith Mech Man core. Also, he seemed to have a mentality, almost a mind. He actively sought to protect Sarah and me, and he struggled hard to do it. I think he'll take very well to heroing, but nobody starts at the top..."

"True," Randy rubbed his chin, "Alright, I'm convinced. You fix him up, make him a hero. However, I want you to promise me you'll take the really heavy duty weaponry out of the others."

"That's the funny thing, boss," I screwed up my face in consternation, because this next bit genuinely puzzled me, "The other Ryats, like I said before, couldn't fight as hard as 66. He was the only one able to fire bolts of condensed energy and reroute his power core electricity as a weapon. The others simply pummeled and dismantled any Clockwork they ran up against."

"Huh," Randall started heading for the exit portal, then turned back to me, "I just have one last question, Shel. Why Ryat? Why not Bob, or Steve, or something utilitarian like Constructor, or even symbolic like Cuchulain? Nobody's robbed the Celtic myths, yet."

"Well, nobody knows how to properly pronounce the Celtic names, boss," I shrugged, "Besides, Ryat was my grandfather's name. He passed away before I really got to know him, and I feel this is a good way to pay my respects."

"I see. Well, keep up the good work."

I turned to Ryat 66, hovering in the air silently.

"We will, boss, we will."

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

I had been staking out the facility for about three hours, now. From as near as I could tell, the Outcasts were just hanging out inside the abandoned structure. The Hollows were full of places like this, and there was no shortage of Outcasts.

You'd think they'd have come up with a better name for themselves, like the Elementals or something that complied more readily to the control over fire, ice, stone, and electricity that their membership exhibited. Some were mutants, but their conformity could only be applied to mystical or technological intervention. Since they lacked implants or external devices (aside from their firearms), I was more ready to accept the former.

Eventually, I got fed up with waiting. I know I'm not a tanker, but I still have a problem with impatience. Witha wild yell, I've kicked down their front door and swiped my katana twice at their guard. He goes down from shock, I barely nicked him, but he can barely believe what's happening. His comrades, however, are far more resilient.

"It's a hero! Get him! I'm gonna make you feel pain, little man!"

If they keep talking, I'll die from cliches before they can hit me.

I duck under a lance of flames and swoop in to its thrower, hacking at his shins and biceps. He falls screaming and I silence him with a well-placed stroke to the head with the back of my blade. I move on to the next, and the next after that, and the next after that.

My name is Matt. Mad Matt McGinty. I was trained in kendo for much of my youth, all the way through high school. My dad insisted on it, he said he wanted me to have the discipline he lacked in youth. So far, I don't see how its helped. I still have bouts of impulsiveness, like this fight here.

Any normal person would've snuck in during the night, taken the artifact these guys are supposedly guarding, and snuck out. Let the Outcasts deal with the Outcasts. Instead, I feel like barging in, hacking these guys a few new bleed holes, then knocking them out for the Police Drones to take care of.

My mentor also taught me a few tricks at evasion, which have come in exceptionally handy in these situations. A subtle change in the air, and I barely duck a flying boulder. The resident "tanker" in this building, a gray skinned young man who I overhear is named "Crag" has decided to have a rock fight with me. Not being able to throw the same sized rocks, I decide I'd better get close and personal with him.

Another boulder comes speeding toward me, and my katana slices through it with ease. Since it's a magically enhanced blade, I don't need to worry about sharpening it later. This is a first for Crag though, who's jaw drops open when I'm suddenly in his face.

Of course, he's just feigning surprise. Crag's been in and out of the Zig for a few years, now. It's a real problem with the Outcasts, so many look alike, it's hard to pick them out in a line-up. In any case, he's buying himself some time to wrap big, heavy rocks around his hands with whatever mental control he has over the earth. I find this out when he grits his teeth, then seethes out some roars as he swings these clubs at me. I lean back twice to avoid the blows, and swat him a couple times in the face before dashing backwards to gain a better stance.

We face each other for a couple seconds.

"Do you know who I am!?" he growls at me, "I'm Crag! I've been arrested by only the best! And I'll be putting you down for this audacity you little freak!"

"Audacity," I snap back, "Funny. You learn that one in prison? Tell me, who're the different heroes who cut their teeth on ya, huh? Let me know so I can find em later and have a good laugh at your expense!"

"Fool! I was put down by Randall Grey! He was one of the few, only a few, that could best me!"

"Is that a fact?" I laughed as I pulled out my communicator and pressed a couple buttons, "Hey! Randy! I'm fighting Crag!"

A gruff "Who?" comes back over the communicator.

"Crag! He says he remembers you beating him to a pulp and carting his sorry butt to the Zig! Like it's his moment of glory! Isn't that sad?"

"Hey!" Crag's voice didn't sound like a growling dog anymore, more just a dejected nerd, "He didn't beat me to a pulp! It was a long, drawn out battle! I almost knocked him out!"

"Sorry," Randy's voice came back over the communicator, "I hear his voice... I just can't place him. Is he an Outcast? Sounds like an Outcast name, or a Devouring Earth... But they tend to just kill you. They don't stop for banter..."

"Hey! You can't talk like that about me! I'm Tony "Crag" Weathers! I throw the beatdown on all you heroes... I... I thought... I made more of an impression..."

Crag sat down, his rock armor dissipating. He just kind of curled up into a ball and started crying into his forearms.

"Is he crying now?" Randy sounded amused.

"Yeah boss," I replied glumly, "I thought this would go more violently. Looks like this little conversation took the fight out of him, though."

"Don't expect the same from Frostfire."

"Right boss."

I turn off the communicator and go into the next room. I don't know what I expected, a display case, a stand, maybe a plaque where they have the artifact mounted. Instead, I find the Phoenix Star (they're actually quite common magical artifacts nowadays, they bestow minor fire casting capabilities on a user, but they bestow them for life) sitting forgotten under a pile of papers. Judging from the guy cowering in the corner and the state of disarray of this "office," I happened upon this little enclave just when they were trying to find the artifact themselves so they could make this new intitiate.

"Sorry, Match-lite. Looks like you won't be struck today."

On my way out, I tag Crag. After punching in a couple buttons on my communicator, I wait for the police drones to come by and start carting off his goons.

"Cheer up, Crag," I smirk at him, "You're still important to heroes. If we can't beat you, well, then we know we're not cut out for this."

Somehow, this made him sob harder.

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

Anybody who has been through this city for a while knows that the Council is not a group of pushovers. Normally.

My name is Cedric Grey. I was a Marine during the Rikti War, and now, after a few years of recuperation, I've come to Paragon to try my luck at being a hero.

Lately, my focus has been the Council. These guys just aggravate me to no end, I'll tell ya. Them and the Sky Raiders. There's just something wrong about an army uncontrolled by the federal government operating on my home soil. But, there they are, and the Council operates in the open. I do my best to bust up their little recruiting stands whenever I can.

However, every so often, my skull bashing or one of my contacts lends me some evidence to a small base or outift the Council may be running. With a smile on my face and my armor donned, I kick in the door to the latest warehouse I've found.

I pull my axe and look about.

Nothin.

Well, that's not exactly true. There's plenty of equipment strewn about, tapestries on the walls and hanging from the rafters with that big, black fireball with a "C" in it. A few computers and a communciations array sit in a corner, beeping and humming. The lights are on, but nobody's home.

"Hello?" I ask cautiously, but then, I throw caution to the wind and shout "HELLO!"

Echoes answer me.

No ambush. No shouts of alarm. What gives?

I tour the small fortified warehouse. I keep to the shadows and "turkey peak" the corners. I meticulously map out every nook and cranny of the building, and I find nothing before I happen upon the Adjutant running this place.

I find him in one of those offices that overlook the main floor. He's got his feet kicked up on his desk and he's rifling through one of those borderline magazines. You know what I mean, the ones where the girls pose provocatively, but aren't actually nude. He's got one of those and he's humming happily to himself.

Very unprofessional, but he doesn't seem too concerned about it. When I make some audible steps into the room, he calls in my direction, "Took you guys long enough, Bill. I was about to go out lookin for ya."

He turns and sees me. I give him a hearty smile.

"You're not Bill."

"Nope, I'm afraid not."

"You're not even Council."

"Of course not. You see Council in the habit of swinging axes about?"

At mentioning my axe, I get uneasy. I got it off a Warrior when I first started out. He was transporting it through Atlas Park on his way to the Hollows while I was registering with ELITE. Lately, though, I'm wondering if that was a good idea... I almost hear a whispering, and start to feel that I'm wasting time here and that I should just chop off his head and get this over with. Chop off his head? No! That's not what I do...

"I gotta tell ya," I shake my own head to clear it, but this Adjutant will never know that, "I expected more guys. If I've got this straight, you sent your whole force out to get lunch?"

"Well," he leans back in his chair and shrugs, "The boys like different places. Some prefer burgers, others like Chinese. I like pizza, personally, but I'm about hungry enough for anything right now."

I sit on a nearby chair arm and smirk at the guy, "But... You sent out your entire force! I mean, come on! That's a notoriously bad decision! I mean, we're talking" grievous error" here, like... you should be fired for this!"

"It never bothered my superiors."

We stare at each other for a few moments before I start laughing. He doesn't understand, so for a few minutes, he keeps getting more and more perplexed.

"Let me... heh heh heh-hahahahaha.... let me get this straight..." I gasp for breath and chuckle a little more, "This is the 'Crap Unit,' isn't it? This is where the Council sends the troops it has that jsut don't cut it, right?"

"No!" The Adjutant gets up and I see he doesn't even have a name tag, "We do really important work here... Like... like... monitoring hero traffic!"

"Yeah, you and every other goon in this city. Heck! I bet those little recruiting groups outside see more than you guys, all cooped up in here..."

He throws his chair through the window. Oddly enough, this means he's not mad at me. He proves it with the stream of expletives, most of which are directed at his superiors.

"They lied to me!" he finally gasps out, "They told me this was an important promotion! What the Hell!?"

"I guess they only promote the truly nasty guys, huh?"

At this, he glares at me. A scowl crosses his face and he snarls a little.

"I'll show them," he spits, "I'll show them I have what it takes! then I'll be free of this 'joke' unit and start working my way to the top! I'll even take the place of Maestro! Yeah!"

"There're those delusions of grandeur I've come to expect!" I laugh as I stand back up, then, while dusting off my hands, "It's a good thing, too. I don't think I could've lived with myself just beating you up knowing you had no fight in ya."

"I'll show you what I've got!" he screams as he shoots his leg up at my face.

I catch his ankle with my left hand and gaze into his eyes.

"You didn't have to make this easy with this half-[censored] attack attempt, you know."

"I was using my whole [censored]..." he whines.

"Oh, wow!" I barked out while laughing and drawing my axe, "That's your best? Oh, you belong in here!"

Five minutes later, I was dragging him out with one ankle slung over my shoulder. I was whistling a theme tune from a popular night-time cartoon and had just got outside when I realised I wasn't alone.

Looks like the cavalry arrived.

"Which one of you is Bill?" I ask after a few moments of all of us sizing each other up.

One of them, a Force trooper, stepped forward. He had a bag from Turbo Burger, the super fast burger joint, in his hand. His minigun was slung over his back.

"Uh... that would be me..." he didn't sound very confident, and his belly was a tad swollen.

"Well, your boss won't be needing that burger after all," I laughed, "What took you guys so long?"

"We got caught in traffic..." one guy said in the background. He was followed by a series of "traffics" and "yeahs" that just left me pressing my lips together to suppress a smile and shaking my head.

"Well, all I can say is you guys did bad," I hold up their boss for them to see. Council leaders are surprisingly limber, I guess it's all the kicks they have to do, so his free foot easily smacks him in the face, "You failed your boss, and you failed your Council. You should be ashamed."

I have to see if my Drill Instructor is still around so I can thank him for lines like that.

"Aw, we did bad," one guy in the background whines. He's promptly nudged in the shoulder by one of his compatriots.

Unfortunately, Bill gets an idea.

"Hey! We could beat this guy into a pulp!"

I wonder if my eyes bugged out as much as they felt like they did, "Now now, guys, you don't want to do that..."

I start reaching for my axe...

"Yeah!" Bill egged his buddies on, "We could put this guy in the hospital, and probably end up getting enough of a bonus from central command to get a big screen TV installed in there!"

This was followed with a resounding "Yeah!" and I just dropped their boss on the concrete sidewalk. As I drew my axe, however, I noticed something. Most of these guys were lacking their weapons.

In fact, it looked like Bill was the only armed one. And he was struggling with his minigun.

With a grunt, Bill swung that thing off his shoulder and nearly spun himself around. A couple nearby troops helped right and point him in my direction. I arched an eyebrow at Bill as he swayed a little, sighted in, then fired.

A line of bullet holes drilled into the ground in my direction, and he probably would've killed his boss if I hadn't nudged him out of the way with my boot.

I looked up at Bill after his gun ran dry and smiled.

"You're not in the best shape right now, are ya?"

Now, I'll give them some credit. Some. They made me break a sweat. They even gave me a black eye. But it was still sad, that out of thirty of them, I came out on top. Bill couldn't even take a punch in the face! I called in the PPD drones when I was done and left a little letter in the Adjutant's pocket.

I was asking for where I could find some of those snazzy outfits they've got so I could display it like a trophy. I don't think he'll be too happy.

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

I shake my head sadly as the cave smolders behind me. The Devouring Earth are a menace in this city, and the Oranbegans, or the Circle of Thorns as most heroes know them, are no mere nuisance. Throw them together, and you're left with a powderkeg complete with its own book of matches.

My name is Cory Simmons. I'm a wizard, adept in the arts of thermodynamics. I specialized my abilities in high-impact fire-craft and close-range cooling. By hero terms, this makes me a "fire/ice blaster." Blaster... Such a crude term for the effort that goes into my work.

Lately, I had been investigating the Circle and the Devouring Earth simultaneously. This last fight, though, they came at odds with each other. It was something about the Devouring Earth breaking into Oranbega, and the wizards were quite unprepared. I did my best to stay out of the conflict, but I never really took any lessons in stealth, so the fights often wound up involving me, anyway.

Before I knew it, many of the wizards had fled, and most of the walking plants and rocks lay smoldering at my feet.

"Azuria?" I projected mentally into the Aether, "Did any of the M.A.G.I. mystics catch any of that last battle I was in?"

"Mr. Simmons?" came the reply, "Why, yes... they say that you should look into Salamanca, next."

"Croatoa? But that's the Cabal's territory. The monsters there wouldn't allow... The Devouring Earth got something from the Oranbegans, didn't they?"

"Indeed, although nobody is quite sure what it is. I believe you should focus your search in eastern Salamanca, in the Misty Wood. There seems to be a peculiar disturbance there."

Hm... I figure I'll be more likely to find Fir Bolg than Devouring Earth. The Croatoa monsters hold Salamanca, and for a reason. Most of the other villain groups would never even consider going there. However, if the Devouring Earth got a hold of a magic relic that allowed them access to that zone... The possibilities of being able to operate out of there sent a chill down my spine.

I made my way to the Green Line and purchased a ticket for Coratoa. Sadly, the local populace has taken to calling that besieged town by it's forsaken name. It's not Croatoa, yet, but the citizens of Paragon see it as a foregone conclusion.

"Nester," I call through my communicator, "I'm making my way to Salamanca. Would you like to come with me?"

"And run into some of my old professors?" he called back, I think I overheard the sounds of battle on his end, "Sorry, Cor. I think i'd rather get shot by Council troops than have to listen to their lectures about how I'm letting my education go to waste. Good luck, though, man."

I sigh as the train arrives and I'm whisked out of Talos Island and am well on my way to finishing this little "quest." I can't wrap my head around why the Devouring Earth would attack the Oranbegans for magic relics. The plant monsters are scientific mutations. Most heroes are still unsure about their origins, but it's clear they are by far not magically created.

My arrival in Salamanca is uneventful. My travels through the Misty Wood are met without ambush or incident. I've been through this village before. The denizens here know to leave well-enough alone.

I witness a group of Tuatha de Danaan overwhelm a group of Fir Bolg and a ctach soemthing behind them. It appeared to be a patch of blonde hair, but surrounded by mud and sticks. I flew over to investigate.

"Excuse me," I said as I passed through the small war without the combatants even registering my existence, "Do you need hel-"

"Cory!" Matthew McGinty, or Mad Matt as he likes to be called, leapt from the bushes he was hiding behind and embraced me in a hug, "I'm so glad somebody found me! I am madly outclassed here!"

"Matthew," I intoned, "Sit back down, please, before youa ttract unwanted attention. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I've been trying to catch up to the other heroes in Grey's Army..."

"And you came here to prove yourself? The Freedom Phalanx and Longbow hardly reward stupidity and foolishness, my friend."

"I know that," he snapped, causing me to check if the fighters behind me noticed, "I signed on with a group that said they could help me prove myself. If I put a few higher class bad guys under my belt, I'm sure to get promoted faster!"

"While this is technically true," I replied quietly, hoping my example would rub off on him, "The authorities aren't going to promote you faster for just being a member of a higehr class group. You have to be able to prove you personally can handle the challenge. Besides, you don't want any of your own investigations to run wild without your attention, right?"

"Yeah," Matt grumbled.

"So... Why are you here? Where is the team you were with?"

"Oh... it fell apart. The boss had personal things to do, I guess he had to take his kid to school or something, and the healer got called by her super group to help out with some other fight. They were cool and polite, I didn't blame them for heading out. The other two in the team, though, they can-"

"Language," i interrupted, "Please."

"They refused to help me get back to the Green line, so I quit the team and have been hiding here, since."

"Very un-hero-like behavior," I intoned, "And most unprofessional. Sadly, you are likely to run into many more of that arrogant type of hero during the tenure of your career. Great powere breeds great irresponsibility."

"You said it," Matt sighed, "Hey, Cor, you don't mind providing a fellow Army man an escort to the train, do you?"

"I'll do you one better, my friend," I smiled as I plugged the codes into my communicator that asked him to register as my teammate. How the city's network registers these things instantaneously is beyond me. After he accepts, I punch in the code that the city calls "Sidekick" and, upon his acceptance of the invitation, he's qualified to receive credit for his next set of arrests.

"Okay," I told him, "Here's what we need to find. There should be a cave around here somewhere that has Devouring Earth in it... They should be here in the Misty Wood..."

"Devouring Earth, he stroked his chin, "Let me guess, walking plants?"

"Yes," I reply, "But they'll be lacking the pumpkin heads of the Fir Bolg..."

"Oh..." Matt stopped approaching the fighting fey and sheathed his sword, "Well, there went my idea... Well, there is another thing..."

"Yes?"

"I saw a group of weird critters pass through here, down this path, a little while ago. Everywhere they went, it seemed as if the pumpkinheads up there in those trees seemed to pointededly look away from."

"How weird?"

"Oh yeah, Croatoa, so I guess weird is in the eye of the beholder..."

"Matt."

"Yeah, the critters... they looked like the pumpkinheads, but without heads, and they were taller... I thought the first might have been Eochai or something until I saw he had no head..."

"Eochai usually doesn't haunt this wood, either," I confirmed, "They went down this path?"

We made our way through the woods, passing several Tuatha hunting parties as we went. Matt shuddered when he saw them. One actually tried to stop and question us, but I quickly disabused their Bres of the notion.

"I guess he thought I don't belong out here," Matt whispered.

"Neither do they," I replied coldly, "Ireland is their home. Native American spirit gods are supposed to have these lands claimed. Unfortunately, Disapora has proven to be more catastrophic to the tenebrous mystical situation than anybody could ever guess."

"I hear ya," Matthew sounded as if he genuinely understood.

"This must be the place."

One tree stood out from the rest in the Misty Wood. Where the Salamancan deciduous vegetation was in a perpetual state of "Autumn," this one bore bright green leaves. A Red Cap fell from one of the branches and lay where he fell, twitching and choking for air. Matt and I peered into the foliage, looking for what may have harmed him.

"It wasn't any creature," a small voice said behind us. We turned about, Matt drawing his sword, I just calmly gazed at the (relatively) young Cabal witch.

She was cute, as many of the adepts and initiates are. One just had to remember, however, that these pretty "girls" were a couple centuries older than they should have been. I placed my hand on Mad Matt's shoulder, signaling him to sheathe his blade.

"I know you want to fight, my older friend, but that time is not yet upon us."

Grumbling, he complied and we turned our attention to the witch.

"What are you doing here... Miss?"

"You can call me Raven."

"How original..." Matt grumbled again. It was not unnoticed, however, and he quickly found himself zapped in the behind. I chuckled at this, which drew his glare.

"Show some respect," I chastised, "besides, I'm not the one you should be angry at. The young miss here is the one adept at using lightning. You know where my skills lie."

"Actually, I'm a sorceress, Warlock Simmons," Raven replied, "And I thank you for attempting to teach your friend here the proper respect to one of my order. However, I will administer my own lessons on your friend from here on if he continues with his belligerence."

"I get it!" Matt suddenly shouted, "Cripes! You could've just said to shut up! I'll be quiet... I apologize. Please, continue."

"Thank you," Raven smiled at us, "I've been assigned to this project in the recent weeks. It seems the Devouring Earth have set up a base here, under this particular tree. that Red Cap you witnessed dying was killed, not by any kind of attack as you would imagine, but by the simple lack of magic in this tree."

"I see," I stroked my beard as I looked back at the strange vegetation, "If this continues... all of Salamanca could be overrun, the mystical elements driven out... but at the cost of turning this place into Hamidon's new playground."

"Indeed," Raven sighed, "And the Devouring Earth wouldn't just drive us out with this attack. They'd slowly choke our life away."

"Well," Matt drew his blade and approached the tree, "Let's cut the damn thing down, burn it out of the ground or whatever! Let's get down to the source of this thing and yank out what the D.E. have brought here!"

"Your friend is crude," Raven leaned close to me, I was made a little uncomfortable by how her hand held my own, "But he may be effective in assisting you in this endeavor. I understand your magic works different from most other magicians..."

"Yes..." I gulped in some air before continuing, "My magic is a careful harnessing of my soul's energy. It requires no external source, such as the Aether or the permeating energies here in Salamanca..."

"Excellent," Raven pointed down the hill, "There should be a cave down there that leads to the roots of this tree. Inside the cave you will find the Devouring Earth, and they will attempt to stop you from removing them from our protectorate..."

She turned me so I would be looking into her eyes, "Would you please take care of this problem for the Cabal?"

"Um..." I could barely get the words straight in my head. I fear the younger Durj brother may be right, and I'm far too polite for my own good.

"It's why we were here in the first place, Bird Lady," Matt bounded down the hill before another bolt could catch him in the butt and make his already wild hair stand even more on end.

"Hm..." Raven watched him go for a moment before turning back to me, "You need to come by here more often, Warlock Simmons. I know we Cabal members may seem cold and indifferent, but we can be quite warm and... hospitable, if we're properly inclined."

I blinked a couple times at her before she left with a wink and a smile. Then, as I heard Matt screaming that the Red Caps were after him, I flew down the hill to defend him. We had a mission to complete, and we couldn't afford to waste any more time.

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

“Oh man, Cedric, you won’t believe this story…”

We were sitting in our favorite bar in this city. I say “in this city” because our truly favorite bar is back in Kingdale and run by Ced’s little brother, but we’re not in Kingdale. This is Paragon City, and we have to make do with what we can get.

Drinking is considered by many to be very “unheroic,” so we kind of have to limit our indulgence. For some of our group, like the nerds Nester and Sheldon, that’s not to difficult. It’s not such a strain on me, but for Ced and his dad, well, they’ve had plenty enough arguments with oversight committees to determine whether or not they were inebriated during their work, and a couple convictions got overturned because of the committees’ skepticism. So, Randy instituted an “off-duty-only” rule. We can’t fight while drunk, it’s that simple. Good thing the two of them calm down when they’re drunk.

In any case, we were in a celebratory mood. Cory, Kip, Nester and I had just cleaned out a D.E. lair in Croatoa, and Kip and I were giving Cory a hard time about the aftermath.

“So, Kip comes crashing through the ceiling in that new suit of his,” I continue to explain, “And he barely survives the plummet…”

“It’s those jet packs, man,” Kip shook his head, “Lately, I’m wondering if Randy should have bought those things for us. They’ve been nothing but trouble.”

“But, Kip,” Nester was drinking a soda, he didn’t like alcohol, but enjoyed celebration, “If you hadn’t been that high in the air, you never would have generated the momentum needed to slam through that much earth. Heck, if it weren’t for that suit, I’d have had to resurrect you from a splat!”

Kip nodded and took a swig of his beer.

“So, there he was, lying on the floor and groaning,” I returned to the story, “We weren’t too surprised he was there, just the method he used. Cory decided we needed the help and found out Kip and Nester were working together, so we called them in. Nester followed and hit Kip with some of that healing junk he uses…”

“Specially designed nanites and microbes,” Nester shrugged, “Delivered on a beam of thermal radiation. They’re incredibly effective.”

“Right, so, back to the story. Kip jumps up like a Rikti Monkey on crack! Screaming incoherently, he leaps at the nearest big boulder-looking monster and smashes it to bits with his foot! Meanwhile, Cory and I are tearing apart the ones that look to be made of grass and mushrooms. Those mushroom ones are annoying…”

“I would think so,” Cedric smiled, then ordered his drink, “Uh… That one. Champion Brew.”

“So, we wound our way down these caves, and we’re getting attacked left and right. Kip makes short work of the stone beasties and the crystal dudes, Cory and I take out the other types, and Nester keeps us all alive and breathing. Nester and I are S.K.ed up for this little misadventure, so we’re all getting credit from the authorities…”

“Oh yeah, you want to cover that,” the bartender chuckles, “In my heroing days, forgetting something like that would bone ya in the end.”

“Right,” I take a swig of my own beer before continuing, “So, we got down to the big bossman of these critters… Something called a Devoured…”

“Yes,” Cory intoned, “A real-life Devoured, not lesser, not greater, but the standard type…”

“The things look like hairless bulls made of plant and have a mask of tentacle-like roots…” Kipland Durj grimaced, took another drink and continued, “Damn ugliest things I’ve seen in this city.”

“As opposed to the Hydramen?” his brother suggested.

“Oh yeah,” Kip nearly doubled over, “Randy says we gotta pity them, but I just can’t. Those damn things were a terror when I was trying to figure my way through Perez Park earlier in my career. But I guess I can see what he means. The little guys would be cute if they weren’t so damn ugly…”

”Yeah-heah,” Cedric clinked bottles with Kip and they drained them.

“So, Kip and I really lay into this thing, but Cory goes and holds back… Before long, Kip has broken the Devoured’s right arm in two places, kicked one of it’s legs out from under it and I had stabbed my katana into it’s shoulder, pinning it to the ground. Just as we’re about to execute the ugly beast, Cory blasts us down.”

“I had to,” he intoned as the room glared at him, “Devoured are called Devoured for a reason. They are human beings who have been brainwashed and mutated with whatever serum Hamidon uses into the bizarre creatures that command his armies. What’s worse is running into a Greater Devoured, those are former heroes…”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what he said there,” I shrugged, “He’s right, but we had just got done killing all those other D.E. monsters, so we were pretty high on adrenaline at that point.”

“I still kicked it in the head to knock it out,” Kip said finally, which received some cheers from the other regulars, “We just can’t run the risk of one of those things reviving itself and going ape-shhhh… just ape on us. See! I’m not too drunk, yet!”

“Okay, okay, calm down, calm down,” Cedric chuckled, “Maybe you should drink some water, little guy. That can’t be all. Where were you guys.”

“Salamanca,” Nester replied.

“Croatoa?” Cedric croaked, “But that’s ghost territory! Witches, story-book monsters, a couple really big, scary thugs that like to wail on each other every couple of days… These are the goons that run that zone. I’d have believed the Circle got in there before the D.E.”

“They could have,” Cory explained, “The reason we were fighting the Devouring Earth in Salamanca was because of an artifact they had stolen from the Oranbegans. It turned out to be a crystal, specifically shaped into an octagonal eye. One half of it was black, the other half was green. One could hear the tormented souls of the Oranbegans’ victims trapped within and powering it.”

“Yeah,” Nester sighed, “The Circle of Thorns is a group of sick dastards…”

“Wow, so that was it?”

“No,” I chuckled, “Then we had to leave the cave… With the artifact in our possession. Now, I don’t know if you guys know anything about magic, but usually, those attuned to it can sense it. This artifact was particularly powerful, but as we had no idea how to activate it, instead of diverting the attention of the nearby fey and witches, it attracted their attention.”

“They should have backed down like I told them to,” Cory looked glum, “Then Kip wouldn’t have had to send so many of them to the other side.”

“I enjoy what I do,” Kipland Durj grinned wickedly, “and I do it well!”

“Yeah, that was all well and good when he was cutting down the deer men, the pumpkin heads and the mad gnomes, but when he went and attacked Cory’s harem, things got ugly.”

Cedric’s eyes bugged out at this and he started choking on his beer. He finally stared at our resident wizard and a huge grin split his face nearly in two.

“Well, you little ‘G-Pimp,’” the axe-swinging tanker laughed, “So that’s where you spend your down time! I bet you’ve got a number of those little cuties wrapped around your little finger! Well, that or…”

“Enough!” the room got cold as Cory got irritated (odd, I would have expected the opposite effect), “I have nothing but the utmost respect for the Cabal. They have good intentions for Salamanca, they just need to learn how to work with the authorities and calm down. I earned their… ‘attention’ in the mission that earned me this hat…”

He demonstrated by pulling a stiff, black and red leather hat from under his cape. How he keeps things there is beyond me. Of course, he’s not the only one who has weird things about him. Sometimes, I wonder why Cedric talks to himself when fighting, eating, sleeping… And he never puts down that axe. It’s always on him…

“Oh yeah,” came a gruff voice at the entrance to the bar.

This was followed by a crescendo of “Randy!” “Zeke!” and (from the Durj boys and Cedric) “Dad!” The two big men stood in the doorway and were busy putting their coats on the hangers. They were an odd contrast, these two. Randy, large, bulky and bearing a grizzled beard to match his wild hair, towered over Ezekiel Durj, who was no small man himself. However, Zeke, despite being older than Randy, had much smoother skin, as if his years in Kingdale hadn’t been nearly as rough on him. His hair was no less gray for it, though.

“Katie Hannon needed rescuing again, huh?” Randy chuckled, “I got a friend who did that a couple months ago. He got a hat just like that out of the deal. It looks so crazy, a witch’s hat like that on a big guy like him… Picture me wearing that.”

“In a few beers, we won’t have to,” Zeke laughed.

“Aw, jeez…” I moaned, “Now I gotta tell the story all over!”

“No no,” Randy waved me off, “Finish for these guys, I’ll get the rest later from your communicator logs. Where’s Sheldon and Sarah?”

“Snuffy went to Pocket D,” Kip answered, “She said she had a date with Joe tonight.”

“Joe Durnan,” Randy grunted, “That kid’s getting on my nerves in ways he can’t imagine…”

“Ease up, Randy,” Zeke calmed him down with a hand on Grey’s shoulder, “Sarah’s got to live her life, and Joe’s a good kid. He’ll make a good cop.”

“I don’t want my daughter marrying a cop…”

“I think Sheldon’s working on a new batch of those weird little robots of his,” Nester informed Randy, “Said he’s taking into consideration the public opinion of ‘army builders,’ so he’s limiting his machines to just a hundred.”

“Hm…” Randy shook his head, “I hope they work only like he says. If any more turn out like the one I found him working on… That’s another oversight committee we gotta deal with…”

“Jeez…”

We sat in silence for a moment until Cedric finally piped up, “So, how’d you guys deal with the witches?”

“Oh yeah… Well, we got out of the cave, we fought off a bunch of those critters that are constantly warring through Crow-town… and then the Cabal tried to stop us. Apparently, this ‘Raven’ wanted the artifact. We weren’t willing to part with it, and she expected that, so she gathered together a small army of her fellow Cabalists to try to take it from us by force.”

“Force…” Kip rolled his eyes, “Yeah… I think she had other methods in mind…”

Zeke arched his eyebrow at us, “Such as?”

“I have problems dealing with the Cabal, alright!” Cory almost shouted, “It doesn’t help that they’re mostly attractive women, or that we have a multitude of capabilities in common, or that I understand them in ways most other heroes don’t…”

“Problems…” Randy chuckled, “I see… So, you guys had to K.O. Cory so he didn’t give up the toy?”

“Nah,” Kip said between peanuts, “he handled himself very well. Give Cory a situation where he can put something ahead of his own interests, and he’s perfectly fine. Nester’s the same way.”

“Hey!”

And that’s pretty much how the rest of the night went, each of us jabbing at each other with insults, puns and set-ups. In the end, Nester drove Cedric, Kip and me to our apartment building. Randy and Zeke took a cab to their homes, and Cory wound up going to pocket D when he got a call from Snuffy about some sort of odd emergency. All in all, it was a good night to get drunk and have some good times with good friends. I hope Snuffy’s okay…

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

“So,” Randy asked as he finished breaking down some pieces of villain equipment into basic components, “What happened at the club?”

Cory took a sip from his tea. Randy had learned this was his habit to stall for time. It wasn’t that he intended to lie, indeed, Cory had a habit of telling too much of the truth, however, he was good at putting it in the correct light.

“There was an argument that was getting out of hand,” the dark-skinned wizard began, “Sarah’s boyfriend, Joseph, had attracted the attention of a blaster class hero, somewhere in his mid-30 level range. The blaster was wondering what Joe was doing there, since he was a cop and all, and Joe erroneously took it as an opportunity to argue his cops vs. heroes philosophy. Both were under a pretty heavy dosage of alcohol, and it’s a credit to their personal training that neither of them came to blows.”

Randy grumbled incoherently and moved on to the next set of equipment. Cory wasn’t sure what kind of machinery his boss hoped to build, or even if he intended to build anything. For all anyone knew, he just wanted to have a handy stockpile of ready-made materials for whatever random project came along.

“Your daughter called for my help when she wasn’t able to diffuse the situation herself,” Cory took another sip, this one longer, and with more purpose behind the sip than stalling, “Hm… my throat feels so scratchy since that evening… In any case, I arrived to find several members of the blaster’s Supergroup debating over not only what the original argument was, but also several ancillary discussions, as well as some off topic discussions. Sarah was trying to drag Joe away from his argument, though, and I had to help calm him and his, for lack of a better word, opponent. Sadly, the party seemed over for Sarah and Joe, as she was quite perturbed by the whole ordeal.”

“Hm…” Randy held up a sheet of metal, and examined his reflection in it, “Well, that usually happens after an argument. Did you get the blaster’s name?”

“No. Besides, his boss said they’d deal with him and teach the proper etiquette of dealing with the Paragon Police. He was quite aggravated at his subordinate’s behavior.”

“I see. Well, what’re your plans for the week?”

“Kip, Nester, Matt and I are going to check out a Council lead. Kip doesn’t seem to think much past ‘Smash and Tag,’ but Nester says he thinks he’s seeing something odd about the troops they’ve been fighting… He wants me to take a look at some of the weaponry and equipment they’ve gathered.”

Randy arched an eyebrow at Cory. He was always weirded out by Cory’s red hair, and the way his eyes have started glowing in recent months had only further exacerbated the situation. However, he was a polite protector of the peace, and he worked his hardest to provide astute and wise advice to those who requested it. The only problem was that he had an affinity for a complex vocabulary, but Randy was able to work his way through the cumbersome words.

“Have you seen any of the equipment yet?”

“As of yet, no. However, I am registering an unusual residual energy signature on their hands. An aura, if you will, of peculiar magic.”

“How peculiar?”

“Well, it’s definitely the result of an artifact, but this has the tenacity of most spoken magic.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Well, not at it’s core. At it’s core, magic is magic, through and through. Anything can be done with it and…”

“See this look on my face?” Randy scrunched up his already heavily wrinkled face into a scowl, making it even uglier.

“..Yes…”

“It means I don’t want a history lesson, I want the short of it.”

“Well, the short of it is that magic works in degrees… and most artifact magic is a degree where it typically does the same thing every time you ask for it. Spoken magic, however, can be altered by subtle changes, such as voice tone, pitch, ambient noise, etcetera.”

“Sounds like that makes spoken magic weaker…”

“Well, typically, it is. But, it is far more likely to succeed. Most powerful artifacts require massive ritual, specific placement, and various other restrictive measures to get them to work properly. Spoken magic can be used almost anywhere and with the proper focus, can be far more reliable than artifact magic. In fact, most people are capable of magic…”

“But they lack the proper focus. Right, it’s why the Circle only kidnaps certain people, but it seems like any random person to most others. In any case, you said this looks like an artifact, though…”

“Yes… well, a good example is the Eye of Sorrow we found in Salamanca. It is an artifact, but can be used almost anywhere and by almost anyone. It’s a powerful relic that requires a massive number of souls to operate, but it’s activation is as simple as humming the right tune, or just saying the code word. Tone or such is unnecessary. I can’t imagine how the Devouring Earth figured it out, but it could have also been as simple as stroking the center of the Eye…”

“That thing’s in MAGI’s hands, right?” Randall Grey looked quite concerned, he had even been paused in his work.

“Yes. Azuria has assured me that the mystics are working hard to free the trapped souls and return them to their rightful bodies…”

“That’ll be tough…”

“Yes… And time consuming. I offered my skills, however, she said my particular traits are… inadequate… for assisting in the replacement of souls into their proper bodies.”

“You’d better get out there and help take down those Council soldiers, then. Let me know how that turns out.”

“Yes sir.”

Randy looked after Cory as he headed out of the Supergroup’s portal. Zeke Durj’s gray hair, green jacket and brown pants suddenly appeared immediately after. He looked about confusedly.

“Did I just miss somebody?”

“Cory,” Grey replied, “He’s helping your boys hunt down some Council.”

“Hm… I wonder if I should go out there and help them… I’ve got a few bones to pick with them and I think they might have answers I’m looking for.”

“Nictus still not talking?”

“Yeah, it’s really weird…” Zeke scratched his head, “Other Warshades tell me they hear the voice of their Nictus all the time, if I’m not actually talking to the Nicti themselves…”

“What have you learned about yours so far?”

“You mean, other than he’s a criminal?” Zeke sat down in one of the leather chairs that sat on the opposite side of the workbench.

“What!?” Randall spun around and stared hard at his old friend, “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“Apparently, the energy signatures in my body match those of a Nictus that took numerous innocent lives and is guilty of many different forms of torture. Some of the methods, we don’t even have names for.”

“How are the other Kheldians dealing with you?”

“For the most part, they’re not. I mean, they work with me, even if they feel uneasy about it. However, they tell me it’s not me they’re afraid of, just that my Nictus ego will take over…”

“Sounds scary.”

“Maybe I’ll have a nightmare like Kip,” Zeke pulled a flask from his jacket and started drinking from it, “Don’t worry, I’m off duty now.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to admit, but I’m scared. I can’t go home like this… I mean Kingdale, not my apartment. Maybe they’ve got a safe way to get this junk out of me… But…”

“You’re getting fond of the power, aren’t ya?”

“Well, I gotta say, it’s nice to be able to take a stab wound or a gunshot to the face and not only walk away, but be perfectly unmarred.”

The two laughed over that and shared a drink. Eventually, Ezekiel was called by Shadowstar, the liaison for Warshade/hero relations.

“Looks like they’ve got to run some tests,” he sighed as he put his communicator back into his front breast pocket, “Well, looks like this is the part where I find out if I stay here or am forever branded a bad guy.”

“Good luck, Zeke,” Randy growled and shook his friends hand, “If you need it, I’ll put in a good word for ya.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you around.”

After the Durj patriarch was gone, Randall Grey sat on one of the oversized chairs. He stared into the ceiling and sat that way for what seemed like an hour, but was actually around twenty minutes.

“Am I dooming us all?” he asked to the open air. The hum of his base's machinery was the only answer.

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

“This is insane!”

Kip’s statement was a bit of an exaggeration. The situation was unusual. Normally, the only Council troops who had special ammunition that did more than ballistic damage were the Marksmen, who wielded specially designed rifles that seemed to be slightly difficult to operate considering their long reload time. However, he and his brother were being pinned down behind a stack of metal crates by all sorts of weird ice and fire bursts, and electric sparks. It was a hail of automatic fire that was charged with a peculiar energy.

Across the hall, behind a similar stack of crates, lay Mad Matt McGinty. He was taking long, deep breaths as a calming exercise. He had a faraway look to his face that made him seem not entirely there, but anybody who really knew him understood he was getting ready to make a move.

“Wait for Cory!” Nester shouted at his comrade, “We need his fire support!”

“Yeah, and the K.O.s we rack up here will amount to diddly for you unless he’s nearby!” the younger brother reinforced.

“Wait for Cory, huh?” Matt grinned, “Well, looks like the wait is over.”

There was a pause in the fire as the two minigun wielding Cor Leonis Force troopers noticed the newcomer to the battle. Standing roughly six feet tall, but he seemed taller because of the wizard’s hat on his head, and garbed in a black robe and baggy pants with red trim, stood Cory Simmons. His brightly shining red eyes glared hard at the two soldiers.

“Get him!” one soldier shouted moments before being engulfed in a ball of fire.

As Cory rained flames on the two soldiers, the rest of the crew leapt up and waged their own personal assault. The two troops went down hard, but then the lights behind them flickered on. Another group of Council soldiers stood behind them, much larger than the first two guards.

“Oh dear…” Cory gasped before the troops pulled up their weapons and prepared to fire.

Kipland Durj and Matt McGinty dove into the fray, Kip’s body suddenly enveloped in an unusual black and purple armor that covered him from head-to-toe, while Matt simply bobbed and weaved around machine gun and assault rifle fire. Matt’s blade flicked in and out and slashed its way through the troopers’ armor, priming them for radiation blasts from Nester’s visor and gloves.

As the soldiers actually landed hits on the two scrappers, Nester’s specially designed microbial technology wafted over them and repaired the damage almost instantaneously. For more serious wounds, the elder Durj brother fired a burst of microbes on a carrier wave that put a larger number of the healing molecules onto the surface of his companions’ skin, but he could only use it on one warrior at a time, unlike the wave making device. He liked both abilities, especially when he kept the wide range wave device automated and used the point based healing to compensate for the wave’s shortcoming.

“Speaking of which, yeesh, Matt!” Nester blasted his friend with another soothing jet of healing microbes right before the wave kicked on again.

“Was there a reason for that sentence fragment?” Kip shouted as he snatched a trooper’s rifle and yanked it toward another trooper. A spray of bullets sent the other to the ground, and Kip finished off the rifle’s owner with a swift kick to the head.

“Just lost in thought, brother.”

“Well get lost on your own time, Nester. Jebus! It’s like I’m working with a frickin four-year-old…”

“Now, now, Kip,” Matt sliced through a trooper’s barrel and brought his blade around to nick his shin, “Don’t be insulting the guy who’s keeping us alive… Besides, you do all four-year-olds a disservice by comparing them to your brother’s vastly diminutive intellect by comparison!”

“I know we usually poke fun at each other,” Nester growled through his helmet’s visor, “But I feel this is neither the time, nor the place, guys.”

“The same goes for your daydreaming,” Kip snapped back as he delivered another series of kicks to the Adjutant of this squad, “You’ve got a job, and you’re expected to do it.”

“Right, Kip,” Nester sighed, “Sorry.”

“Apologies are like… Never mind, you get it,” Kip took a breath, “Looks like this crew’s down. Let’s get to the next floor.”

“Hang on,” Cory knelt down and picked up one of the rifles, “Hm, I think this is the button you press to, ah, there’s the magazine.”

He popped out a bullet and examined it. He spent a moment humming and mumbling peculiar mystical incantations. The bullet glowed blue for a moment, then returned to its normal dull gray.

“Peculiar,” he said as he pocketed the round, “Okay, we can go.”

“Finally,” Kip rasped through his helmet.

The next floor was more of a cakewalk, as they refined their strategy in every fight. Cory provided a rapid bombardment, then let Kip and Matt conduct their own small war to finish off the troops. He also pegged any stragglers as they attempted to flee the fights. Nester, in the meantime, focused on healing the entire crew and running his defensive subroutine, another microbial device that added a thin, invisible layer of armor on all of them. They wiped out squad after squad, room after room, and finally made their way to the leader of the building, Archon Caid.

He was unlike any Council trooper they’d ever seen… well, that was untrue. His basic armor was still the same as any other Archon’s, but it was covered in a peculiar array of glowing green runes. He glared at the heroes from behind his mask and red lenses, then assumed a martial arts pose similar to Kip’s.

“Ah, great,” the younger Durj brother griped, “They never make it easy. Nobody ever just gives up and goes quietly…”

“I think this’ll be tougher than normal, Kipland,” Cory intoned, “I don’t like that arrangement of runes… If I’m reading his aura correctly, it’s going to be exceptionally difficult to land a hit on him.”

Kip just nodded. The group stared at the Archon for a few moments. Archon Caid stared back, not moving a muscle.

“Do we have a plan?” Matt whispered.

“If your plan involves dying exceptionally agonizing deaths,” Caid growled at them, “Then I believe you do indeed have a plan. I have faced plenty of heroes before now, and I believe I finally have the necessary scheme to defeat you wholesale.”

“Your magic bullets won’t help you,” Cory pulled the round from his pocket, “Most magicians and heroes have plenty enough resistance against this elemental magic… and this is far too temporary.”

“Your skirmishes with my men and the ones you had to fight to find this place were merely a trial run,” Caid laughed, “The next deployment will be far more powerful, and will involve mysticism beyond your ken! We will finally over run this city, and you will have the glory of being the first heroes to fall to the true new power of the Council!”

With that, he attacked. Kip was sent reeling from a vicious snap kick to his head, and Matt barely avoided a back-heel kick aimed for his face. Caid then moved in close to Cory and aimed a few bone breaking punches at his ribs, but Simmons went air born and flew back faster than the Council commander could land the blows.

Twisting in mid air, Cory came back around with a blade of ice in his hands and brought the weapon crashing down on Caid’s face. A green glow came between the two of them and the blade shattered on impact. Archon Caid then delivered a sharp straight kick to Cory’s mid-section and sent the wizard rolling through the air.

Then, Matt was there. He slashed and sliced his way toward Caid, driving him back as the soldier desperately deflected each attack with his wrist and shin guards. Then, sick of humoring the younger man, Caid jumped up and landed the kick he wanted to hit Matt with earlier. The katana went clattering to the ground as Matt crumpled to into a pillar.

Caid then turned to Nester, who was busy delivering healing to his brother. Realizing he was in danger, Nester attempted to fly higher than Caid could reach. The Archon, however, surprised the crew again when he, instead of pulling out a rifle, grenade launcher or even a rocket launcher, leapt up and kicked Nester out of the sky. He bounced against a far wall and lay there, mumbling incoherently to himself.

“Exceptional,” Caid grinned under his mask, “That was barely a workout. You boys have some skill, I’ll grant you that, but it’s better suited to a school bus crosswalk than…”

Kip interrupted him with a furious kick to the head. Caid tumbled backward, but regained his footing in enough time to catch Kip’s second attack, a simple jab at his jaw. However, he didn’t expect the scrapping young lad to leap up, twist around, and plant his foot into the soldier’s face. The Archon stumbled back, slightly disoriented, but a glow from his armor, and his head was clear. Kip, pressing what he thought was an advantage, attempted to deliver yet another flurry of vicious kicks, all of which Caid deflected and eventually turned the tables on the de facto leader of the crew when he side kicked him in the chest and drove Kip into the wall next to his brother.

“You’re trying my patie…”

Bolts of fire rained down from above as frost wrapped about his ankles. Caid yanked his quickly sticking feet from the floor, jumped up and kicked Simmons in the hip, but the wizard spun away, which absorbed a lot of the impact. Cory then pulled his mask from his mouth and blew a stream of fire at the Archon, leaving him smoldering.

“Graargh!” Caid shouted as he batted off the flames, “I’ll send you straight to Hell, you…”

“Now, now, Archon Caid,” Cory Simmons hovered before him, flames wrapped around his hands and glowing red eyes blazing, “Surely, you’re not going to resort to the bigotry your organization is so renowned for, are you? Certainly, your group has moved past such inefficient human resource management since the Fifth Column days…”

“You know nothing about us!” Caid shouted as he pulled his grenade launcher from his back, “Now, feel the full fury of the scheme that will shatter this city!”

Cory attempted to stop the grenade from escaping the muzzle of the launcher, but the round burst through the ice blockage he had thrown into it and caught him full in the chest. The explosion was eldritch in nature, and affected Cory on multiple planes of existence. He was certain, that if a Praetorian version of him existed, even he felt it. Then he blacked out in a slump next to his friends, Nester and Kipland Durj.

“And that should just about do it…” Archon Caid gasped as he dropped the grenade launcher. He swaggered over to a nearby intercom and pressed the button.

“We need a cleanup crew here in my command chamber. You guys don’t have much to do… I put most of the trash on the wall next to the entrance…”

There was no response.

“Now I know they didn’t hit you guys, you’re in the building across the…” Archon Caid glared at the intercom. There was a knife embedded in it.

“I don’t remember that happening…”

The tell-tale sound of metal dragging on metal caught his attention. Archon Caid whirled around and leapt at where the katana had fell, but there was nothing and nobody there. Behind him, Matthew McGinty raised his blade.

“I’m over here, Archon Caid,” the short blond man’s gravelly voice caused the Council leader to whirl about again, “Time for round two. Walk by me…”

The short man demonstrated by pointing in the direction Archon Caid should go. However, the base commander just leapt forward and delivered a vicious kick aimed at Matt’s waist. The kick was deflected by the young hero’s blade, and the two altered their stances, still glaring at each other, one ready to slash and stab his opponent, the other to kick, punch, and break bones on his way to victory.

“One shot, Caid,” Matt growled, “One shot left, and it’s over. You ready?”

“I’m ready enough for a little worm like you,” Archon Caid leapt forward, his foot swiping through the air at Matt’s head which suddenly wasn’t there. There was the sound of wind, and then a sensation of white-hot pain shooting through his leg.

The Archon dropped to the floor, clutching his knee and screaming. Matt, in the meantime, ran up one of the nearby walls, back-flipped off and slammed one of his own knees into Archon Caid’s face. The soldier wasn’t down for the count however, and spun around on the floor, swinging his good foot into Matt’s face, which sent the smaller man rolling away.

“Dohmit,” Archon Caid gurgled under his mask, “Where wuthz mah pro-theck-shun?”

“Like most armor,” Matt stood and waved his hand through the air, his blade shimmering into existence in his hand as it disappeared from where it had fallen, “it can only take so much of a beating before it is useless. It also has several ******, or weak points, that one merely has to watch your performance for a short while to determine the weaknesses. As you leapt about and assaulted my friends, I used my vantage point, forgotten on the floor, to examine the behavior of the magic that ensorcelled you, if not its nature. It functions the same as a knight’s armor, and where your body must bend and flex, so too must it have an opening to allow your movement, or else you’d be nothing but a statue as soon as you put that runed abortion of a ritual on your body. A few of these nifty magic gems help, too.”

Matt pulled a few yellow crystals from his pocket and smashed them against his chest. They exploded in a yellow burst of light and an aura focused around his eyes started to glow.

“You fool,” Archon Caid struggled back to his feet, spitting out blood from under his mask, then, leaning hard on his good leg, he started fishing around on the back pouch of his utility belt, “I… can still… put you down. I have some of those myself…”

He produced a set of green cylinders. Matt had seen enough of them in his adventures as a hero of the city. One end had a spring-loaded syringe that shot out on impact and injected the pressurized contents of the cylinder into the recipient. The system was more sophisticated than an atropine injector, however, and the person using the device had to be the one receiving the injection, or else the needle wouldn’t deploy. Unusual technology to be sure, but life-saving. The green ones had a cocktail of microbes, nanites, and chemicals that had the same effect as Nester’s medical devices.

“Why would you put yourself through that embarrassment again?” Kipland Durj asked from off to the side.

Archon Caid made the mistake of turning in surprise. Kip’s foot whirled about and kicked the devices from his hand. The scrapper then ducked as a heavy burst of fire from Cory, usually reserved for sniper shots, scorched through the air and blazed into the Archon’s face. Caid dropped to the floor, smoldering, gurgling, and cursing. He gave a few kicks, clanking his boots against the wall and finally lay still.

“Uh… Is he dead?” Nester moved in cautiously.

“No,” Matt replied gruffly as he sheathed his blade, “The same system that keeps us alive keeps them alive. They’re in close proximity to us, so the nearest medical station has him in their system, sending enough energy through the network to keep him barely alive. Go ahead, lean closely. He’s breathing there.”

“So, we never had to play nice to that Devoured…” Kip intoned as he nudged the body with his toe. A low groan answered his attention.

“Not necessarily,” Matt shrugged, then knelt to gather up the green cylinders.

“The less trauma we inflict on these criminals, the better their chances at rehabilitation,” Cory intoned, “However, with the Council, I make big exceptions. How anyone can willingly take arms against their own nation, especially when it’s in the state it’s in, is beyond me.”

“People want power,” Nester’s armor snapped open and peeled away from his face. His legs were suddenly clothed in pants and a jacket seemed to just pour out of the folds of his armor to wrap neatly around his chest plate. A pair of green-lensed sunglasses and a hat popped out of his hands, and Nester placed these on his head.

“It’s not too difficult to figure out where the Council gets their goons from,” He pulled a tag out of his glove’s thumb and applied it to Caid’s boot, “The disenfranchised normally look for a quick way to the top, while the already downtrodden look to the Council for structure and quick money. Baumton is full of people like that, and Independence Port just outside and Steel Canyon are full of various infighting gangs, the Council probably pulls recruits out of those groups who want out of it.”

“Then there’s inmates they deal with,” Cory sighed, “They get into Zigursky, then run a successful recruiting campaign that hinges on a breakout.”

“Which happens way too often, in my book,” a voice surprised them from behind.

“Durnan!” Kip whirled around, jumped over and hugged the officer who stood before them, “They got you out from behind that desk!”

“I was never behind a desk, Kip,” Joe Durnan replied, “Unless you call patrolling King’s Row every day, neck-deep in Skulls, Vahzilok zombies and Clockwork robots behind a desk.”

“For my skills, yeah,” Kip shrugged, his armor fading away like it was made of black and purple smoke, revealing his jeans, T-shirt and shoulder pads underneath, “I haven’t really dealt with anything in King’s Row in months.”

“Well you should,” Joe replied gruffly, “A couple weeks ago, we had our hands full with the Paladin running around there, again. We need more than us and a few lowbie wannabe heroes to take that thing down. We need someone with some firepower or someone who knows how to fight. But you heroes are only after the big score, the headline making victory…”

“Hey!” Kip shoved pointed at Joe’s nose, “Shut your damn mouth, Durnan! We’re your friends, you know us, man! Each of us has helped fight Paladin at some point in our careers! Hell, Randy even stopped the damn thing from even being built once! There’s all sorts of threats throughout the city, and we’re out there to stop them! Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to stop Terra Volta from being blown up by the Sky Raiders? Do you even know who the Sky Raiders are? Get your head out of the gutter, boy, and get the notion that we’re all on the same side!”

Joe stood there silently for a moment and let his eyes drift to his friends. Kip hadn’t moved from Joe in the slightest, and his face was contorted into an ugly scowl, his index finger still just inches from the officer’s nose. Cory stood a little behind him and to the left. He was glumly altering his outfit from his battle-dress to his more comfortable and covering robes. He let his red-dyed hair fall freely to his shoulders and dampened the glow of his eyes. He appeared to be trying to avoid involvement in the conversation. Matt and Nester had busied themselves by tying up the base commander and getting ready to take him to questioning. When his eyes fell on each of them, however, they looked to him with stone faces, betraying no emotion about the situation.

“I’m sorry, guys,” Joe finally sighed, “It’s just… Work’s been hard for me lately. I’ve been… promoted… I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” Nester asked as he and Matt lifted the Archon, “So, do we call you Sergeant now, or what?”

“No…” Joe sighed, “They made me a hero.”

“Get out of here!” Kip shouted at him as he grabbed the cop by the shoulders, “Why the Hell for?”

“Word got out about my argument at Pocket D…” Joe sighed, “And the PPD has been looking for physically high-scoring officers to put into various new programs to get a few more Blue Steels. With my little outburst, I hit the blotter, and I guess I fit the bill.”

“I’m guessing they’re giving you training on how to be more tactful,” Nester laughed, “So, what’re you classified as? Scrapper? Tanker?”

“Blaster,” Joe replied, “Assault Rifle and Gadgets, but I’ve only just started, and it’s not like I get to pick what they give me. I’ve gotta earn my way to the better equipment.”

“Wow, that’s nuts,” Kip shook his head, “Well, now you get to see for yourself what’s going on in this city. Welcome to the other side.”

“Thanks,” Joe sighed, “So, what’re you doing with him?”

“Well, first we’re going to peel him out of his armor,” Cory replied, “Then, we’re going to interrogate him to find out where he got his weapons from.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Joe raised his hand and approached the motionless body, drone tag in hand, “You can keep the armor for whatever reason, I know you heroes collect that junk, but I’m going to have to ask for the perpetrator. You’ve arrested him, he needs to go to jail and stand trial.”

“Oh, come on!” Matt shouted as he dropped Archon Caid on his head, “We’ve got a catastrophe to avert here!”

“Regardless, the last time a Grey’s Army member conducted their own interrogation, the perpetrator, again, Council, was able to effectively plea that he was tortured for information.”

“Oh yeah,” Nester rubbed his chin, “I remember that guy. Randy really did a number on him.”

“So, you understand where I’m coming from.” Joe applied the tag and a police drone hovered in to zap the Archon to the Zig.

Matt snicked out his sword and deftly slashed the armor fasteners from the body, yanking it off as Caid disappeared.

“You couldn’t have waited for us to get finished?” Matt asked as he handed the armor to Cory, who somehow made the stuff disappear under his cape, “I mean, jebus, man…”

“Sorry…” Joe shrugged, “I’m just nervous about being in Independence Port.”

“Yeah,” Kip arched an eyebrow at him, “Why’re you here, anyway, man? Your security level's a tad low for Independence Port.”

“I just got done with training… and Snuffy said you guys were out here.”

“Well, jeez, man! Let’s get you to a bar and celebrate!”

“I can’t,” Joe shrugged, “I want to test out some of this equipment for a few hours… Tomorrow I start really working…”

“Technically, whenever you’re putting down bad guys, you’re on the clock,” Kip laughed as he put his arm around Joe’s shoulder, “Have you clocked 8 hours today?”

“Well, yes.”

“Then let’s clock in some overtime,” Kip laughed, I trust you can get back to the apartment, Nester? I’m going to escort Joe back to K.R., maybe beat up some mobsters and Sky Raiders along the way.”

“Sounds fun,” Joe pulled his assault rifle from his shoulder and loaded in a fresh magazine, “Let’s do it.”

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

Up to now, you’ve heard the stories of the male members of Grey’s Army. However, they do happen to have a female in their midst.

Meet little Sarah “Snuffy” Grey, the apple of her father’s eye. Compared to most other heroes, she’s downright tiny. She faces most of the world with a perky smile and a happy attitude. That's not to say she isn't serious about her work. She's trained long and hard to perfect a mean right hook her older brothers taught her.

While her friends were busy investigating Archon Caid, Sarah was busy downloading music (from her own, personal, collection of course) so she would be pumped for her day of fighting crime. Her cat, Ni, curled up on her lap and purred happily as she plugged what she felt would be the perfect tunes for a solid day of butt-kicking.

“I don’t ever want to leave this spot.”

She had long since stopped reacting to Ni’s thoughts. She had been trained to hone what few psychic abilities she had, but since Sheldon gave her the equipment he felt would help boost her otherwise lacking powers, she had to get used to all sorts of new abilities and sensations. First off was hearing the thoughts of others, like her kitty.

Ni was like most other cats, except he was a rural feline. This made him about a step above feral. Other cats around Snuffy’s apartment didn’t like Ni. They told her, vocally and mentally (though they thought she couldn’t hear their obscenities and insults), but she just turned him loose on the alley when he just HAD to go outside.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Sarah stroked her kitty’s head, “Yes, Ni, I can hear ya. And I’m sorry, but we’ve got a job to do.”

“Aw geez…”

She knew that those weren’t the real “words” to Ni’s “language,” but her brain seemed to automatically translate, and his as well. Sheldon explained that it was a capability that many psychics had, that the jumble of images and sounds transferred between them or taken and/or delivered to normal people instantly rearranged themselves inside their heads to provide automatic translation. He also had many explanations about the subconscious, and how it helped, but Sarah honestly stopped paying attention after he got past transfer. She figured she remembered as much as she did afterward because some part of her, maybe her subconscious, actually had retained the memory, but Sheldon just went on-and-on…

“Speaking of Sheldon…” Sarah lifted Ni from her lap and placed him on her shoulder.

Indignant protests assailed her and Ni glared at her the way annoyed cats usually do, but he quickly settled on her shoulder and relaxed. The padded shoulder of Sarah’s T-shirt provided him a safe, easy grip for his claws, and he almost went to sleep.

In another room of the base, Sarah could hear Sheldon typing furiously. Every so often, there was the strange “whooshing” sound of his kinetic device activating and the typing resumed, slightly faster than before, but it didn’t last long.

“Sheldon!”

“Y-y-eh-ehssss Ssssn-n-n-u-uffff-ee-ee-ee?”

“Uh… Why are you talking like that?”

“I-I h-a-a-avvv t-t-ooo,” he replied, “I-I hhh-a-a-avvvv t-t-ooo r-r-eeep-pee-ee-t-t mmm-i-i-sss-eh-l-l-fff ff-o-o-rrr y-y-oooo t-too hhh-eeerrr mmmee.”

Sheldon was an oddity among the Kingdale crew. Where the others maintained mostly laid back clothing or civilian attire (the exception was Nester, who seemed to really like the gear he had), Sheldon always was seen wearing a tight-collared, retro-styled uniform. He looked like a military commander from an old sci-fi movie. Presently, however, he appeared to be a blur, moving all over the place on what appeared to be three keyboards. Next to the keyboards was a small animal cage containing a gerbil. The little critter was moving really, really slowly.

“Mmm…. If only he wasn’t behind bars…” Ni’s thoughts wafted over. Sarah resisted the sensation of her mouth watering (excessive empathy, another problem she’d had early on; Sarah would constantly feel what others felt while wearing her “super gear” until Matt taught her a few good meditation exercises) and the sensation of wanting to hurl (she didn’t want to eat a gerbil, after all…) and tried to get into a better view of the tech man.

“Sheldon, you have got to stop siphoning speed from that poor gerbil! You’re going to end up killing him!”

“I-I-fff a-a-nnn-y-th-th-ing, hhhh-ee-ee-l-l-l l-l-ih-ih-vvvv l-l-ou-ou-nnn-g-g-e-r-r-r…”

“Dammit, Sheldon, slow down! I can’t talk to you like this!”

Sheldon suddenly stopped and sat perfectly still, his shade covered eyes staring directly into her perfect sapphires. He looked annoyed, but he was realy just composing himself. The only thing Sheldon really felt passion for was his work; he left his behavior with others strictly professional. They sat staring at each other like that for a few seconds, until the gerbil started running at normal speed again.

“You should listen to him,” Ni’s bemused attitude carried over easily through the mental link they shared, “Felix there actually likes helping Shel out. He likes that it gives him a purpose.”

“I’m important!” came a tiny voice from the cage.

“Should I let him know you wanted to eat him a moment ago?” Snuffy replied.

“He knows,” Ni made a mental shrug, “It’s a joke between us. He knows I prefer a fight for my meal, hence the reason I go out to the alley cats and hunt the rats and mice in our apartment and the base. They give me something to do. Felix, though, he’s really smart for his genus and species. We talk a lot, him and I.”

“What did I tell you about bringing him in here while I work?” Sheldon finally said clearly.

“You said not to…”

“Precisely, because if Felix feels threatened, he gets defensive. If he gets defensive, I might miss with my siphon, and that will slow me down. I can’t be having that.”

“Sheldon, I can assure you…”

“And another thing, you don’t have to shout inside my mind while I’m rapid. I can hear you fine.”

“Sheldon…” Sarah sighed, then realized he was right, “Oh dear… Sheldon, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.”

“That’s fine, Sarah,” he sat back and his professional demeanor slackened, “Jeez… I shouldn’t have come off all stern like that… it’s these reports I have to type up… Longbow wanting specs on my Ryats, Randy wanting a mission statement on what I want to accomplish with them so he can give it to prospective contracts… And different companies will want to hear different things…”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No… Your devices have inhibitors in them. You can’t hurt someone with a shout unless they lack proper ID. We’ve been over this.”

“Yeah, but… Sheldon… I…” Sarah didn’t know how to say the next part.

“What is it?”

“I think I’m getting stronger…”

Sheldon replied with a quizzical arching of his eyebrow. Then, as soon as he registered what she meant, he siphoned speed from Felix and started blazing on one computer. The monitor could barely keep up with his furious scrabbling. Sarah was certain she smelled smoke.

Sheldon finally stopped and waited until after the weird green energy faded and he could move and talk normal again. However, he still just sat there, staring at an image of some form of physiology on the monitor.

“Sarah…” he gasped eventually, “I don’t know how to say this, but… your mutation is progressing.”

“Is that a tumor?” her voice trembled slightly as she stared over his shoulder.

“No,” Sheldon’s unease disappeared, replaced with an odd, infectious relief, “No, not at all! Sarah, that’s altered brain matter, to be sure, but…”

“So, cancer, then.”

“Would I be smiling if it were cancer?”

“Well, you science types are always smiling about the oddest things. I remember when you found that mold behind the refrigerator and wanted to conduct tests on it.”

“I thought it might’ve been D.E…”

“And it was mold. Now, back to my tumor filled, cancerous brain!”

Sheldon’s eyes narrowed, not that Sarah could see behind his thick shades, but his eyebrows furrowing clearly showed his mild irritation.

“Sarah, when the Rikti hit Kingdale, and you got… altered… it was a minor change, at best. You could’ve gone your whole life with just a mild precognizance or empathic visions of the people and places around you. Instead, you came here, and in order to make you capable of handling the stress of working out here, I made you that gear to boost your powers…”

“I know all that already!”

“I didn’t expect the effect to have a feedback effect, though. I guess all that psychic work your brain’s been doing ahs boosted the mutation. Pretty soon, Sarah, you won’t need the equipment. Heck, it might even start hindering you.”

So that was the thought that occupied her for most of the day. She remained detached from her goings on. Everything, from the street thugs snatching purses to the Hellion hideout she raided, she went through the day with a faraway gaze. It was Ni who finally brought her back.

“OW!” her scream echoed through the empty warehouse and in the back of her head and everybody’s head within a fifty foot radius.

“Ah! OW!” the Hellion lieutenant screamed as he clutched at his ears, “Oh God! She’s in my head! She’s in my HEAD!”

He stood there groaning for a moment as Snuffy collected her thoughts. She realized that she felt something on her neck. She reached up to find a small bite mark there.

“Ni?”

“Took you long enough,” the cat’s voice came back, “I’m over here, next to the crate.”

“How’d you bite my neck?”

“I was still on your shoulder when I did, then I leapt off… Sheesh, it’s not rocket science, you know.”

“But, why’d you do it?” Sarah Grey picked up her cat and held him out in front of her, “It wasn’t very nice.”

“You want to know what’s not nice?” Ni’s snide, ‘growly’ asked back, “Getting a face-full of buckshot and bullets. It doesn’t feel good, or at least, I assume it doesn’t feel good. Having never had it done to me, I can only imagine, but I’ve seen the effects of it, and it’s not pretty.”

“What’s your point?”

“We almost added tungsten to our diet, that’s my point, Snuffy,” Ni’s eyes actually narrowed for her to see how stern he was, “And, once again, I understand…”

“It doesn’t feel very nice, I get it.”

“Sarah, why’re you in this funk? Is it so bad to be a mutant?”

“Well, no…”

“Then why are you bothered by the possibility that you’re progressing further? Look out!”

Sarah ducked in time to avoid a rifle butt to the back of her head. She whirled about and shouted at the gunner.

“DO YOU FREAKING MIND!? I’m HAVING A CHAT WITH MY KITTY CAT! HOLD YOUR HORSES, DAMMIT!”

The Hellion’s eyes went wide and his nose started to bleed. He then fell to his knees, clutching at his mask, trying to rip it off so he could let the blood drain freely and clot more naturally. Apparently, he did go to school after all…

“Oh… Oh god…” he gurgled, “This is not my day…”

“Damn right it isn’t,” Sarah said normally, “You should know by now, it’s never a good day when a hero comes knocking at your door.”

“I’ll take that into consideration… Oh jeez… that’s not pretty…”

Snuffy left the broken man to his misery and picked her cat back up. She sat on a crate and started petting him. Ni’s purrs echoed over the sound of the Hellion sobbing to himself.

“So, Snuffy, what’s bothering you?” Ni asked mildly, “It can’t be the fact that your mental skills are progressing. You’re a fantastic telepath, and so far, you’ve proven to be an effective hero. Even if you do resort to all that unnecessary brawling…”

“My one-two is nothing but helpful,” she muttered, “So what if it’s a little unsightly that a cute little girl like me is punching thugs like him in the kidneys.”

“While they’re incapacitated.”

“Well, they’d do the same to me…”

“If they could, right…” Ni started licking his paws, “You used to be easier to read, Sarah. Like a book. All I needed to know, I would just think of it, and there I was.”

“HEY!”

“Watch it, girl, I lack civilian ID, so I don’t share in that protection Shel mentioned,” Ni’s head had instinctively snapped back and his ears were flat against his head, but his eyes were merely closed as if he was startled by a loud noise, “Now, I meant no offense, but you humans really need help on your first days as telepaths. I was providing the guidance you needed… Well, some of it, anyway. That wizards and Matt inadvertently helped move things along…”

“You mean how Cory communicates telepathically, too?”

“Yeah, kind of, but he talks through magic, not a collection of unusual growths in his brain. And Matt’s meditation has been exceptional at honing your focus…”

“Oh, cool…”

“The thing is, Sarah, you’re making tremendous progress, and you’re acting like it’s bothering you,” Ni’s cute little face looked up at her, his golden eyes appearing sunken into his soft, orange fur, “But your work, your mutancy, doesn’t bother you. It’s Joe…”

Sarah sighed and looked off to the side. The Hellion’s shadow started to fade as she heard his booted feet bolting for the door.

“Oh, no you don’!”

Ni was through the air faster than Sarah or the Hellion could react. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. The Hellion screamed a lot, things like “Oh my God! The Pain!” and “Tiny razors, everywhere! It leaves BURNING!” but he was the last conscious man in the little “pyro party” that had taken the warehouse, so nobody really cared. Ni happily applied the tag Sarah gave him on the tip of the lieutenant’s nose.

“I really love Joe,” she finally mumbled sadly, “And I feel we’re drifting apart. That party really made things seem distant between us... And now this mutancy thing makes me think we can never go back!”

“Joe’s got his own problems,” Ni snuggled her belly and purred, “And it was wrong of him to vent that night, but, Snuffy, you and I both know how he feels about you. He’d do anything for you. You’ve got to stop eating yourself alive over this! You two are doing great as far as human mating couples go.”

“I know… I know…” Sarah stood and hoisted Ni onto her shoulder. The cat licked the spot where he had bitten her.

“Sorry about that, but you were really out there.”

“I understand. Think a healing solution will take care of it and get rid of the scar?”

“Better use a green rune, or a green gem,” Ni replied as they walked out, “I feel like lunch, how about you? I’m in the mood for tuna…”

“My thoughts exactly,” Sarah happily squeaked.

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

“What a slow DAY!”

Cedric punted a garbage can down the alley, sideswiping a Vahzilok Reaper in the process. There was no retribution forthcoming, the zombies that usually accompanied Doc V’s surgeons just stood around stupidly, awaiting orders that would never come.

“Grah!”

“Calm down, man,” his best friend from childhood, Matt McGinty, chided, “You should be happy for days like this. Especially with the case we’re on.”

“A faction in the Council is hoarding ‘magicked’ weapons, and I’m supposed to take a break!? Grah, I say GRAH!”

Cedric sent another trash can sailing and wound up cold clocking an Outcast Charger. His friends ran off screaming and Cedric once again felt unfulfilled. Even worse, he was out of trashcans.

“Aw…”

“We may as well move on, Ced,” Matt sheathed his katana and urged his friend in the direction of the Yellow Line, “We’ll meet up with your sister and her boyfriend in King’s Row, maybe check and see if the Paladin is running around. Will that cheer you up?”

“Only if Big P’s there,” Cedric moaned, “It’s been months since I’ve killed something…”

“What?”

“What’d I say?”

“You said it’s been months since you’ve killed something,” Matt intoned, “First of all, you don’t kill in this city, and second of all, I don’t think I liked the tone of your voice when you said that.”

“I said… that? What?”

Cedric stared at his friend, a light expression of fear creasing his face slightly.

“Change of plans,” Matt’s eyes narrowed, “We’re going to MAGI in Atlas Park.”

“Why Atlas?”

“Because, there’s usually a lot of heroes there,” Matt’s blade slid soundlessly from it’s scabbard, “and if you make a scene, they can put you down easily. Now, march.”

Cedric raised his hands, but Matt’s blade swooshed just under his chin.

“Keep your hands away from that axe, old friend. The train.”

At MAGI, the news was grim.

“Mr. Grey… You’ll need to stop being a hero.”

“Repeat your last?” Cedric’s eyes went wide.

They had him standing in the center of an energy field. Cedric didn’t get the mumbo-jumbo the wizards and mystics used, all he got was that as long as he stood in the circle, he couldn’t hurt anybody, and they could scan him in peace. It felt itchy to him.

“Cedric, what do you know of the Praetorians?”

“Uh… Only what my Dad’s told me about them. They’re bad news… They’re typically the equal and opposite to us… Um… Did I mention they’re bad?”

“Yes, quite bad.” The wizard, a young man by the name of Mider Caid (who is, unfortunately, the brother of Archon Caid), confirmed, “The problem, however, is documenting every Praetorian for every hero in the city…”

“Caid, you’re missing an important point,” Cedric bared his teeth at the wizard, “How does this involve me having to quit heroing!?”

“Well… I’m getting to that,” Mider reached to a pedestal nearby and withdrew the cloth-wrapped axe, “This is your weapon, correct?”

“Yeah. I guess. It’s kind of hard to tell when you’ve got it wrapped in… Silk? I’m not paying for that.”

“Oh no, this isn’t silk… It’s a mesh fabric composed of several…” Mider noticed the look on the young tanker’s face, “Right, moving along… It seems that your Praetorian is your axe.”

“You’re kidding.” Cedric’s jaw almost dropped out of his skull.

“No. Whatever happened on Praetorian Earth, it caused the alternate version of you to be killed, and his spirit was trapped in this axe. Perhaps it is one of the many weapons of Battle Maiden, and was left after an incursion was repelled. In any case, you happened to wind up with the weapon…”

“I got it from a Warrior on his way to the Hollows…” Cedric looked about guardedly, “At least, I thought he was a Warrior…”

“Ah, the Warriors. Far removed from a true code of honor, they deal especially in cursed magical items… This Praetorian You would easily have registered as cursed considering the crude enchantments those young fools use. No, no… this is something much more dangerous. This is an intelligent, maelfactorous, arcane weapon, and it’s trying to gain control of you.”

“How’s it doing?”

“Well, it seems to be like a balancing act… The only times your Praetorian ever manages to take control is in passing moments of aggression. Apparently, you don’t care enough to be a super villain.”

“Cool.”

“Yes, the worry some here have made mention of is that you hardly care enough to be a hero as well…”

“Can it, Caid. My buddies may have whupped your brother, but I can easily do the same to you if I have to.”

Mider rolled his eyes. Cedric didn’t really care about the bad blood of the Caid brothers, the only thing that concerned him about their relationship was the possibility Mider helped deliver the artifact the Council that was causing Grey’s Army so much trouble at the moment. However, when such concerns were raised (by more “tactful” members of the super group) they were shot down by Azuria herself with an explanation that the strongest magic wards, alarms, and various other hocus pocus would have been placed upon it immediately upon entering the building. Some heroes even put their own tricks and traps on them, designed to bar anybody other than approved MAGI mystics (which usually turned out to be Azuria and only Azuria) and the hero from even touching them. Mider was just too low on the totem pole to have enough clout to have delivered sucha powerful artifact to his brother.

“Look, Mider, I’m a hero, and I like it. I like helping people, I like to see the smiles on kids’ faces… the sheer gratitude in an old lady’s eyes as I return her purse. I love the feel of steel crunching under my fist as I put down one of those Freakshow goons. I’m here to help… And in order to do that, I’ll be needing my axe!”

“No, no…” Mider shook his head, “You won’t be getting that back until we’re done examining it. Instead, you get this.”

“That… That’s not my original axe?”

“No.”

“You guys are giving me a new axe?”

“Mm-hmm. Not that you deserve one, mind you, but MAGI will not be known for sending heroes into the fray without their weapons.”

“I thought you said this was my old one?”

“No, I led you to believe that…”

Cedric Grey stroked his chin as he pondered the situation. Finally, he came to a decision.

“You guys are pretty screwy thinkers…” he reached out of the energy field and grasped the handle of the axe, “Making this thing was mine when it wasn’t… Well, I guess it is, now… Using silk as gift-wrapping… ”

“It’s not silk!”

Mider Caid tried vainly to correct the once-again smiling hero as Cedric peeled the wrap from the cold steel of the blade. He liked how it shone in the dim light… and it was slightly lighter than his old axe. He gave it a couple slow practice swings.

“Perfect!” Cedric grinned from ear to ear, “Hey! This didn’t shape up to be too shabby a day!”

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

Pocket D…

Randall Grey didn’t frequent the Nightclub of the Stars much. Really, he only spent any amount of time in it when he had to get from one place to another quickly, and Pocket D’s location between dimensions and multiple access points across the city made it a hot spot for such travel.

The rest of Grey’s Army typically used the VIP cards he got them to get out of danger zones quickly…

However, he had gotten a suspicious invitation. Cedric had delivered it after a quick excursion into the New Overbrook construction site. Randall thought the story about a Sky Raider running up with a letter in his hand was odd. What was even more odd was the fact that the guy really was a courier, and he was delivering a message for Randall. He had just gotten the wrong Grey.

“Could’ve just used that newfangled e-mail system…” Randy muttered to himself.

He scanned the crowd of club-goers. To his right he could hear the cheers of meta-types as they “appreciated” the antics of the Rikti Monkeys in the RMFC. Randy snorted at the thought. He didn’t like having others fight for him, much less poor little critters that would rather be home living a normal life. They shouldn’t be fighting a perpetual war…

Thinking about the Rikti War always misted his eyes. He didn’t like to talk about the wife he’d lost. He didn’t know if she was dead, Lost, or even full-blown Rikti… Maybe she’d even escaped whatever horrible fate may have befallen her at those alien hands. All he knew was that in the chaos that had ensued in Kingdale, he had lost track of Charlene...

He found he was muttering her name to himself again.

“Dammit…”

He made for one of the bars and ordered a beer. Nothing fancy, just domestic, the King of Beers. He swigged down the can in one gulp and went back to the dance floor.

He scanned the crowd and found it full of the same kind of crowd that he always found here on a busy night. A tiny minx with blonde hair ran up to him from the midst of it…

“Daddy!”

Sarah “Snuffy” Grey, nicknamed for a moment in her youth when she had caught a cold which made her snuffle a lot, jumped up and hugged her tiny arms around her father’s neck. Randy returned the hug with one arm and gave her a wet kiss on the cheek. She grimaced at him as she wiped her face dry and he set her down with an amused grin.

“I see you don’t have those pillows stuffed into your shirt,” he chuckled.

“Experiment’s over,” Sarah shrugged, “Besides, I got tired of lugging those things around. They kept getting in the way and they were really distracting. You wouldn’t believe how many heroes thought I really was that large-chested… Creepy… Creepy guys…”

“Should’ve directed them to me,” Randy cracked his knuckles, “Or Kip, or Nester, or even your boyfriend…”

“You think nester would do a better job at beating someone up than Joe?” the tiny girl’s left eyebrow arched up, showing she was clearly irritated, “And why can’t you ever say his name?”

“Because I don’t want to,” Randy replied with a growl, “He’s taking my little girl away…”

“Aw…” Snuffy grinned sheepishly for a moment, “I’d say I’m not your little girl anymore, but… Well, you’re the size of a bear… Lot’s of people are littler than you, especially me.”

“I get the point, though,” Randy patted her on top of her head, careful not to mess up her hairdo. He was rewarded with a playful swat from Ni.

“Stop that,” Sarah gave Ni a small thump on the head with her index finger, “Well… I’m gonna get back to dancing. Bye-bye, Daddy.”

“A tiddly-do, Sarah.”

Randy started scouring the edge of the crowd, looking for the villain who asked to meet him there. A hand on his shoulder, however, answered him and he turned cautiously. DJ Zero may say that he keeps hostile powers suppressed here, but Randall wasn’t inclined to trust that.

He was face-to-face with another heavy-type meta-human. He had a set of three scars over one eye and his forehead had a set of six purple spikes. A row of more purple spikes ran down the center of his head as well. There was also a set of large, crystalline horns jutting out of the Brute’s collar bones. These were also a dark purple, like the rest of the spikes. The final touch of purple? His eyes, they glowed like a popular movie monster’s. Otherwise, the brute dressed much like Randall’s second-favorite outfit, a set of motorcycle leathers.

As a side note, Randall happened to be wearing his “Explorer” outfit, green military jacket, cargo pants tucked into his knee-high work boots, and a classic blue T-shirt.

“Recognize me?” the stranger asked in a deep voice.

“Nope.”

“I didn’t think you would. Wanna sit down, get some drinks and we can talk?”

“May as well,” Randy started heading for the nearest table, the brute followed.

That sat opposite each other and a waitress set a couple glasses next to them.

“Psychic service,” the brute intoned, “Must be difficult for them to help you, though…”

“Why for? They could just ask.”

“They pride themselves on not having to.”

“She probably asked the bartender what I asked for earlier,” Randy took a sip of his drink, “Yep… Same as I had before.”

“You sure you don’t remember me?”

“Buddy, I’m drawing a complete blank.”

The brute nodded, shrugged, then took another swig of his beer. They were an odd thing to look at, two heavy-class meta-humans sitting at one of the clubs “normal” sized tables. Finally, the brute spoke.

“Do you remember, early in your career… Kind of low-profile case… but it was murder, so it was still a serious charge…”

“Happens rather frequently, sadly…” Randy grimaced, “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“A Tsoo courier, dead at my feet. The Skulls who did him in were long-gone… you come leaping in just in time to see me trying to flee the scene myself… This was a lot earlier in the year, Grey.”

“…” Randy’s eyes narrowed as realization dawned on him, “Harris? Ray Harris?”

“Yep, that’s me.” The brute grinned, “Of course, I go by Power Breaker in the Rogue Isles.”

“Power Breaker…”

“Yeah… Not really making a name for myself… but I have made it into the inner ranks of Arachnos…”


“Why are you telling me this?”

Power Breaker shrugged, “Because I feel I owe you thanks, Randy. And not just because you’re indirectly responsible for me getting these powers. I wanted to thank you for a long time for speaking on my behalf at the trial…”

“Look… Harris…”

“Seriously,” Power Breaker leaned back, the chair groaning under the shift in weight, “The rest of the trial was a farce. I was pronounced guilty when my foot first stepped into that court room. It had been a while since the city had seen a ‘normal’ person commit a crime and get caught for it. Everybody seems all wrapped up in ‘you can’t commit crimes unless you have powers…’ You and I both know that’s crap. In any case, where the rest of the trial was just ‘running through the motions’ before my conviction, you actually took the stand and told the jury you thought I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Too bad the D.A. dug up all that info on me being involved with the Family… I probably could’ve gotten acquitted if it weren’t for that.”

“Yeah, but you would’ve been done anyway. The Tsoo…”

“Yeah,” Power Breaker laughed, “The Tsoo are DIRECTLY responsible for this,” he gestured to the scars over his eye, “and the rest of this,” he then gestured to the spikes and his malformed body, “Them and Crey. I half believe what happened to me in the Zig was orchestrated by those bastards… I’ve got no proof and my far-reaching connection to the networks has turned up diddly. Hell, Crey may have even forgotten they experimented on me.”

“What is that stuff, anyway?”

“The crystal? It’s the same material as that Shadow Cyst Crystal stuff. Not the same abilities, mind you, I can’t summon up clouds that spit death every which way… But there are other benefits.”

“I see…”

“I guess the crystal functions as pretty much a power source,” Power Breaker sighed, “The rest of my abilities are affected directly by the self-replicated nanites Crey put in me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back to a normal life.”

“That’s unfortunate…”

“Ah, well… I may as well let you in on why I invited you here… Simply put, I want to fight ya.”

“Why for?”

“Pretty much, I want to see how I compare. I also feel I owe you a punch in the face to go along with the ‘thanks.’ A stand up fight is better than just sucker-punching you like some spineless Stalker-type.”

“And why would I agree to this?” Randy finished his beer and calmly set the glass down on the table.

“Because,” Power Breaker reached into an inner pocket and retrieved a data card, “I have information on a very important Arachnos mission. You beat me, you get the info, then you can do with it whatever you want.”

“Oddly enough, Harris, I’m inclined to believe you…” another drink was placed in front of Randy, which he promptly slammed down his throat, “Get me a couple more drinks, and you’ve got yourself a fight!”

Power Breaker smiled, “Inhibiting yourself so the fight’s more even?”

“What? No! It’s just been so long since I’ve fought drunk! I want to know if it’s as fun as I remember.”

“I guess we’ll both find out, then!” Power Breaker laughed, “Waitress! Many… many rounds more over here!”

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

Joe Durnan sat in the briefing room with the rest of the officers on the “Hero Project.” Today, they were to be getting special assignments from Blue Steel himself. He didn’t know quite how to feel about that, but he understood it was something of an honor.

“So, Durnan,” Sergeant Smythe turned around in his chair to face him, “I saw your girlfriend bring you lunch yesterday. She’s a hot little one. How’d an ugly punk like you score a chick like that?”

“Shut it, Smythe,” Sergeant Jones, who was sitting next to Joe, leaned forward to make sure Smythe wouldn’t act like he hadn’t heard, “Leave the rookie alone. It’s not his fault you haven’t been able to score in a year.”

“Was I talking to you?” Sergeant Smythe’s eyes started to glow a dangerous shade of red, “Don’t make me remind you what I can do…”

“You and I both know you can’t be using that psycho-shat on fellow officers or heroes,” Sergeant Jones leaned back and folded his arms over his chest.

A triumphant smile creased his dark face.

“Did I touch a nerve?”

Sergeant Smythe turned back around in his seat and started grumbling to himself.

“Uh, thanks, Sarge…” Joe said sheepishly to Sergeant Jones, “I.. I’m a little out of my element here…”

“You’re doin fine,” Jones clapped Durnan on his back, “You may not have any powers, but you’re a Helluva shot, and I hear you’ve busted quite a few more Skull drug labs than pretty-boy poser here ever did.”

“In my mind,” Smythe grumbled, “I’m crushing you… With big, cartoon-style one-ton weights…”

“Be careful with thoughts like that,” Jones’s tone of voice went serious, “You may just find yourself wearing an inhibitor for a week.”

“Please, I don’t want to cause trouble…” Joe tried to interject.

“Don’t you worry, boy,” Jones sat back again, “Smythe and I have this ‘professional rivalry’ going. You just happen to be here and your girl caught his fancy. I’m just reminding him that he has an image to uphold…”

“You can cram that image…”

Smythe never got to finish his sentence, for in walked Blue Steel himself. Joe had always preferred Blue over Statesman… Something about the cop-turned-superhero story appealed more to him. Not that he felt he was walking in the legend’s footsteps, Joe would have preferred to just keep to his old beat, but Durnan felt a stronger admiration for the man who showed attention to the largely ignored King’s Row.

Compared to the rest of the city, the Row was dirtier, grittier, and far more depressing. Everywhere one turned in this section of the city, there were the Skulls, or the Vahzilok zombies, or the Clockwork horde. Every couple of days, one would probably be unlucky to find a giant monster clockwork called the Paladin storming down the street, zapping everything in sight because it’s programming was faulty. Joe had to help deal with that beast a couple of times in his career as a normal beat cop, and it was never pleasant.

Joe was shook from his reverie as he heard his name called.

“Jones, Durnan, Thompson, Taylor… You guys are with me.”

“No freckin way!” Thompson hissed behind Joe.

“Wow, major leagues,” Jones intoned, “We probably won’t do much. We probably just got front row tickets to an awesome show.”

They headed for outfitting and Joe strapped on his flack jacket and slung his assault rifle on his shoulder. A couple “goo bombs” got strapped to his belt and he placed his trusty tazer in a side pouch. Taking another look at his rifle, he sighed.

“Yeah,” Kyle Thompson sighed, “I know what you mean, man. They couldn’t have made the damn thing any uglier, could they?”

“They could’ve…” Joe chuckled, “They could’ve made it pink…”

“Ew,” Thompson seemed to stare off into space as he pictured a pink assault rifle, “That’s just not right…”

In the van, they were silent. Joe didn’t want to expose the fact that he wasn’t paying attention, so he didn’t ask where they were going. His fellows weren’t very talkative, Blue Steel sat at the back of the van, in front of the doors and staring to the front.

“So…there’s these three mice in a bar… and they’ve been drinking for a couple hours now… The first mouse slams his drink on the bar and decides he’s going to talk about how tough he is. ‘I’m so tough,’ he says, ‘I’m so tough, my house has this Rat Poison in it. But that stuff don’t bother me, I just pick that stuff up and eat it down ‘cause I’m one tough mouse.’ The second mouse shouts his friend down, ‘That’s not tough! I’m a tough mouse! My house has rat traps in it, and they put this special gourmet cheese on it, thinking the rats’ll try and eat it. But I beat em all to it! I stomp on that plate and when the bar comes snapping down on my head, I catch it with one hand and push that shat back with one hand while I hold the cheese I’m eating with the other. Why? Cuz I’m one tough mouse! The third mouse has been really quiet and he finishes his beer, sets it on the bar, pays his tab and heads for the door. The toehr two stop him, yelling ‘Hey! Where ya goin!?’ and he replies ‘I gotta go home and bang the cat…’”

Joe didn’t realize he was the one who was talking. The other officers in the back of the SWAT van just stared at him like he was out of his mind.

“I guess he’s the real tough mouse,” came a deep voice from the back.

The rest of the officers slowly turned to see Blue Steel chuckling.

When the van arrived at its destination, the officers hopped out and started taking positions. There was already a strong police presence, and Joe was quick to fall in next to Sergeant Jones.

“You’ve got a pair,” Jones laughed, “What got into ya to tell a joke like that?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Joe’s eyes were wide, “I remember my girlfriend’s dad telling it once… Sarge, I kinda got lost in my thoughts during the briefing… Do you know what we’re doing here?”

“It’s Jones, Durnan, rank don’t mean much to us anymore, remember? And we’re tracking the Council. Word is they’re making a big push.”

“Oh man…”

They fell in with a squad of SWAT troops and Blue Steel started dividing the unit up. Each squad took a section of Talos Island and was to report if they saw anything related to the Council. For now, Freakshow, Tsoo, Warriors and even the Circle of Thorns would have to wait until this issue was settled.

Joe’s squad found itself scoping out the southwest regions. They didn’t expect to find much, and in fact they found nothing. A few Warriors and Freaks tried to start a fight with them, but the punks were so heavily outmatched, the fighting amounted to little more than rock throwing and running. Joe shook his head at the idiocy of it and pressed on with the rest of the SWAT team.

Then came the APB. They were to head to New Corinth as quickly as possible to contain a dangerous situation. Joe and his squad were the last to arrive and find the most bizarre thing in Durnan’s career yet…

A massive green force field had been erected between the two buildings he was facing. At the base of it, a car had been cleaved neatly in half, the front of the rear half slightly crumpled, the front half a few feet away from the barrier. The person who drove the vehicle was cowering inside the destroyed shell.

Down the street, Council soldiers were putting up sandbag walls and fortifying the nearby buildings. A faint glow could be seen in the brickwork and Joe realized the forcefield was more of a cube than a standard “bubble” field.

“It’s like a war wall made of magic,” he breathed, “Or one of those incident walls we erect to secure a neighborhood when trouble’s brewing…”

“Yeah,” Jones intoned, “There’s no good in this. Look!”

He gestured to the people the Council soldiers were dragging out into the street. It was a hostage situation before any of them could even understand what else could be going on. Then, Blue Steel was inf ront of them.

“Get down!” he shouted as he slammed the bottom point of his shield into the pavement.

A blast erupted from the front of giant badge and the whole line of SWAT officers collapsed to the ground from the shockwave of the missile blast. Joe struggled back to his feet and peered into the gloomy combat zone. It appeared the Council had erected some form of artillery…

“Okay, men,” Blue was up already and barking orders, “Secure the area. Get all free civilians out of here! We have got to save as many lives as possible now before the Council tries to decimate this section of the city!”

The next thirty minutes were a nightmare. Joe could hear the Council troops firing repeatedly into the nearby officers. The riot shields were barely enough to deflect the bullets, but they were rapidly being withered. It was as if they were being molten down by the bullets themselves…

“Come along, ma’am,” he found himself saying to an utterly shocked woman, “Please, you have to leave the immediate area…”

“My husband, my baby!” she kept trying to push past Joe and he looked to where she pointed.

The nearby split in half car. Joe could see the child in the back seat now. Not necessarily an infant, but young nonetheless. Without realizing what he was doing, Joe was bounding for the derelict machine. Bullets impacted around him and he felt one smash into his flack jacket. He could have sworn he heard a sizzling, as if the round were burning its way through his armor.

He reached the car and fired a burst at the Council troops at the top of the nearest building. His bullets bounced harmlessly off the force field and he dove into the machine.

“Heh-heh-help muh-muh-meee…” the young boy sobbed, “Da-da-daddeeee!”

Joe looked back to see the child’s father struggling with a pair of Council troops. He could hear the older man shouting loudly “My son! You bastards! Let me go! Bobby!”

“I’ve got him, sir,” Joe shouted back, “I’ll make sure he gets to his mother! We’ll get you out of there!”

The father nodded, despite the jeers of the Council troopers dragging him away. Joe turned to the young boy.

“Bobby is it?” the boy nodded, “Okay, Bobby, I’m going to need you to be brave. Just keep your arms around my neck, and keep your head down, alright! I’m gonna get you to your mother! We’ve got to go now!”

The boy nodded and hugged Durnan’s neck. As soon as Joe got his arm around the kid’s waist, he bolted out of the wreck and into the rain of bullets. This time, he felt a solid stream pelt him in the back as a couple bursts found their marks. Grimacing, he yanked a green syringe from his belt pouch and jammed it into his thigh. The drugs healed some of the damage done to him and eased the pain, allowing Joe to press on. A bullet caught his leg and he staggered.

“Augh!”

Bobby fell from his neck when he hit the pavement, and Joe covered the boy’s body protectively with his own.

“I never wanted to be a hero…” Joe muttered grimly, then he pulled his rifle from his back again, “Run, Bobby, I’ve got a nasty surprise for them…”

He loaded a flashbang grenade into the launcher.

“I may not be able to get through their shield, but I’ll bet dollars-to-doughnuts it won’t save their eyes from this…”

He aimed in on a cluster of troops on the nearest roof, pulled the trigger and was rewarded with the familiar “poont” of a successful grenade launch. The explosive hit the shield and detonated, releasing a bright flash of light that seemed to spread throughout the eldritch energy. Before anybody knew it, a green cube sat in the middle of Talos Island.

Joe found himself getting dragged bodily away from where he collapsed. He looked up and found Jones tugging at his shoulder pads.

“Damn, you do got a pair,” Jones laughed, “I’ve never seen blaster types pull something like that in all my years in this city!”

Joe could only gasp for air.

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

“I can’t believe we’re letting them get away with this…”

Joe waved in the large truck full of Council troops and another filled with munitions crates. As they lumbered to “The Cube” in the middle of Talos Island, the barrier flickered for a moment and fell. The troops on the rooftops and in the windows of the commandeered buildings aimed about suspiciously as a couple other troops inspected the gear.

Satisfied, they waved the trucks through and a handful of hostages were released. The police intercepted the citizens and ushered them to a hastily erected care center. Joe sighed as the shield went back up.

“I understand how you feel, officer.”

Joe rounded angrily on Sheldon Wallace, “You know how I feel? You know how I feel!? Screw you, Wallace! I’m about two tenths of compressed rage from unleashing all holy Hell on you and the rest of the heroes I come across. Where the Hell were the rest of em when this crap went down, huh!? Where are they now?”

“Funny you should ask…” Sheldon’s face betrayed no emotion, and his sunglasses made it look like he was staring placidly into Joe’s contorted face, “Why don’t you take another look at the trucks you just let through…”

An explosion rocked the center of “The Cube” and all eyes turned. Behind the “munitions” truck lay a splintered crate. Standing over the wooden remains was a wild-maned, shirtless, wide-legged pants clad hero wielding a katana.

“Matt?” Joe asked confusedly.

Beyond the truck was a cloud of smoke, which happened to be the remains of the personnel truck. Pieces of broken mannequins lay sprawled all over the pavement, looming over them the gigantic form of a very aggravated Randall Grey. The munitions truck then erupted and other members of Grey’s Army leapt onto the scene.

“Sarah…” Joe breathed.

“Never could’ve gotten through without her,” Sheldon intoned as he started walking leisurely toward the barrier, “You may want to organize the rest of the police officers to be ready to attack.”

Inside the barrier, it was chaos. Half the Council troopers didn’t even know they were under attack before it was too late. Cedric’s axe, Matt’s katana, Cory’s flames, Ryat66’s energy bursts, and the fists of Randall and Ryat99 made short work of anybody who so much as attempted to command or organize a feasible defense. Sarah Grey darted for the building the Council was keeping the hostages in and used her psychic prowess to turn aside the assaults of whoever got in her way.

“Hello?” she shouted over the sounds of gunfire and war, “Is anybody here?”

“AAAAAH!” a Nebula trooper rushed her with an assault rifle, but was promptly lifted into the air, slammed against the ceiling, the walls, and finally bounced down the hall.

“Ooo…” She cooed as the soldier moaned about his sudden grievous injuries, “I guess I bwoke him…”

She paused to listen and was oddly rewarded by the terrified sounds of other people’s thoughts. She followed the empathic “noise” and found a room of people huddled together. One of them rushed forward and hugged her.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the man shouted, “I told them heroes would come. I knew we would be saved.”

“Yes…” Sarah narrowed her eyes at the man, “They will be. You won’t…”

The man’s face suddenly elongated, his teeth growing into massive fangs and his ears pulling back to reveal the vampiri spy for what he was. Unfortunately for the vampire, Snuffy happened to be thinking of a particular pop song from Russia and it just started looping through his head.

“AUGH!” the vampiri screeched, “How can you do this to me! Mein Gott! The music is terrible!”

“Well, if you don’t like my taste in music,” Sarah smirked, “Then I don’t think we can be friends anymore…”

Outside, the Council troopers were surprised to see the vampire spy hurtling out the window of the room they were keeping the hostages in. They were unable to do anything about it, however, as Randall was on a rampage.

“Find the altar, or whatever the relic is,” Cory shouted before spitting flames at another nearby rank of troops, “If we take it out, the shiel—“

A few well-placed marksman’s rounds pelted him and Cory fell out of the sky. Nester was there in a flash and started streaming a constant wave of healing nanites and microbes into his friend’s ravaged body. The wizard stood triumphantly and started blasting fire bolts into the crowd of troopers.

“I got it!” Cedric shouted as he leapt from a ledge, another trooper falling, screaming from where he leapt.

The axe-wielding tanker was making a bee-line for a bizarre pedestal with a black orb sitting in the center of it. The relic seemed to be dead center of “The Cube” and had green eldritch energy radiating from it.

An explosion knocked Cedric from his feet and sent him reeling into a tree. The hood of the personnel truck went flying through the air shortly afterwards as Randall hurled it at the artillery emplacement down the street. The gunner was knocked out of his seat and clean through the shield into the waiting hands of the Paragon Police.

“Let’s try this again,” Cedric slurred as he unwound himself from the tree branch he was plastered against, “I take this axe, and I smash that orb.”

He promptly collapsed face-first to the ground as soon as he was out of the tree. Nester was at his side and trying to revive him almost immediately…

“I don’t wanna go to school, Ma! Didn’t I already graduate? Mmm… Gimme a few more minutes…”

“Get up you over-muscled moron!” Nester started lifting the taller hero bodily, “I don’t like being out here like this, it makes me a-AUGH!”

A grenade exploded behind him and sent the two hurtling through the air. Nester gazed back to see the Archon of the local contingent. His armor glowed with red runes and his grenade launcher glowed blue. He wondered at that until he realized how difficult it seemed to move.

“An ice grenade?” he muttered as he struggled to stand.

Energy cascaded overhead as Ryat66 leapt in to “defend the healer” and Ryat99 closed in to finish the job. Despite the android’s size advantage, the archon proved far more nimble, and was able to deftly avoid each ice-encased swing. It was almost like he was moving faster than humanly possible. Finally, the larger machine, tired of getting kicked, punched, and even shot, just unleashed a cloud of coolant.

“Dodge that,” the machine said in a deep, seemingly perpetually innocent voice, “I’m gonna go take a break, now.”

The archon struggled to stop Ryat99, but was caught in the face by a blast of incandescent energy, followed shortly by a large chunk of concrete.

“Excellent shot, sir,” Ryat66 chirped happily to Randall Grey, “You knocked him clean off his feet.”

“I love doing that,” Randall barked a laugh and yanked another section of concrete out of the ground, “Let’s finish this now.”

As he threw the stone at the relic, however, the archon stood with a scream and took the blow full in the chest. It wasn’t enough to stop the momentum, however, and the two collided with the pedestal, knocking the orb to the ground. It shattered into dust that seemed to scatter almost immediately and there was a tremendous explosion of eldritch power.

The shield dissipated and the heroes took stock of their situation.

“Sarah, get the hostages out of here,” Randy barked into his communicator.

“”Wrong one, Dad,” Cedric grunted back.

“Damn P.O.S. technology,” Randy grumbled as he hit another button, “Snuffy! Hostages! Move!”

“No need to yell at me,” Sarah replied, “We’re on our way…”

Cedric finally stood and stretched out. The Council still had them surrounded, and despite losing their boss, they were likely to just cut Grey’s Army down without much further ado.

“Alright,” Cedric drew his axe, “Who’s next?”

“Me.”

From the center of what used to be “The Cube” and was now a green-smoke smoldering crater stalked the Council archon who was the source of all their trouble for the day. His armor was broken, his uniform shredded, but his skin pulsed with ugly green light and his fingers extended into vicious, glowing, venom-tipped claws.

“Now, Grey’s Army… You face the wrath of Archon Jazt! I will demonstrate my new power on you, then I will go straight to the Center and take control of this whole operation! I will send my troops across this city in a swarm, and nothing will stop us!”

He threw his head back to cackle maniacally, but was rudely interrupted by a large golden shield crashing down on his head. The Council soldiers stared, dumbfounded, and were taken by surprise as SWAT officers raided the occupied buildings. Sheldon Wallace zipped up close and started enhancing the speed and boosting the density of his comrades.

“Ryat66, Ryat99, you’ve been performing exceptionally,” he communicated to his androids, “Now, help the officers escorting the hostages. I am fairly certain they’ll need assistance. It’s just good insurance.”

“You got it, boss,” Ryat99 replied.

Ryat66 leapt over a building in the direction of the hostage relief center. From the same direction came Kipland Durj.

“What’d I miss?” he asked through his black-purple helmet.

“Nothing yet,” Cedric yawned, “Bad guy got super-powered, spouted some cheesy ‘revenge on you all, conquer the world’ line, and here we are.”

“Well then,” Kip started marching in the direction of Archon Jazt, “Let’s get this done! It’s wings night at the bar!”

Randall Grey and Blue Steel were busy knocking Jazt back and forth between them. Unfortunatley, it was tougher than either had expected. Jazt’s claws snicked out and slashed whenever he got close and his body could take an extraordinary amount of punishment. A blazing bolt of fire lanced out from a nearby rooftop and smashed into the former archon.

Kip, screaming, charged the conflict and smashed his foot into the villain’s face. He then took a full rake to the chest before leaping up and drop-kicking Jazt in the face. Gasping for breath, he caught the next swipe in his left hand and side-kicked the villain in the throat, nearly popping Jazt’s limb from its socket.

“Grargh!” the magic mutant gurgled.

The fighting lasted nearly an hour. Jazt’s power, though immense, was finite, and he was no match for a team of supers, much less a seasoned champion of Justice like Blue Steel. Jazt’s energy finally dissipated like his vaunted magical shield and he collapsed to his knees, his broken body unable to support him anymore. Randall Grey placed a tag on his neck, signaling a police drone to come by and zap the poor, beaten man to the Zig.

“Good job, Grey,” Blue Steel strapped his shield back to his arm, “eventally…”

“I’m sorry this got so out of hand,” Randall powered down his rock armor and turned to the signature hero, “I didn’t realize they were so far along…”

“Hang on, hang on,” Kip tried to interject, “This is just as much my fault as anyone else’s. I never took into consideration the full scope of what we had been dealing with… I thought it was just ‘smash and tag…’”

“Regardless,” Blue Steel started heading over to the officers who were rounding up the last of the Council troopers, “I’m going to have to report this to an oversight committee…”

“Oh man…” Randall shook his head, “I’ve had some tough experiences with those…”

“Not one like this,” Steel intoned, “I’m sorry, Randall. You’ve done good work in service to this city, but events like this hit the blotter…”

“Oh…” Randall’s face didn’t betray the fact that he was actually feeling a moment of apprehension for once in his career, “That oversight committee.”

“I’ll try to put in a good word for you. You have the benefit that… is that right? Okay. Yes. All hostages are accounted for.”

“That’s a relief.”

“See you at the hearing.”

Blue Steel marched off and Randall took a seat on a set of steps. He was joined by the few members of his super group.

“What do we do now, Dad?” Cedric breathed.

“I’ll tell ya what we do,” Randall reached into his jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out a flask, then, between swigs, “Nester! I want you to oversee patrols in Overbrook.”

“Sir?”

“We may be under investigation, but that’s only a few of us,” Randall grimaced and handed the flask over to his son, “Cedric, you’re muscle in Overbrook, got it? Matt, Sheldon, Sarah, and Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum over there are under you two. Zeke’s advisor.”

“You really want us involved with Overbrook?” Cedric arched his eyebrow at his father, “I don’t think that’ll fly too well…”

“Screw em,” Randy pulled himself back up, “Now, I’m tired, bruised, and feel like I need a hot shower, a good meal, and then a long night of drinking. Kip, Cory and I will deal with the oversight committee.”

“Yes sir,” the two said quietly.

“We’re in for a rough ride, aren’t we?” Sarah asked worriedly.

“Not all of us,” Randy assured her, “just a couple of us.”

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

“You don’t feel any… anger… at my being assigned command of this op, do you Ced?”

Nester and Cedric were looking over one of the many cliff-faces of the region of the city known as the Faultline. It had changed, seemingly overnight, into a massive construction project. All around the two of them, city planners, contractors, police and even citizens reclaiming old buildings that still stood and required little to no maintenance.

Behind them, they could hear Ryat66 and Ryat99, Sheldon Wallace’s only two combat androids out of his entire Ryat series, mopping up a set of Lost. Matt and Sarah were busy getting a quick lunch from the doughnut shop for the whole crew.

“Nah, man,” Cedric tossed a stone over the side of the cliff, “I got no beef with ya over the assignment. Dad explained it to me over the phone. You’ve been here longer, and you’re better at plans and strategies…”

“I don’t know about that…” Nester straightened his hat nervously, “I mean… It’s not like I’m used to people listening to me give orders…”

“Regardless,” Cedric stood up and turned to his younger friend, “You fit the billet. I’m more of a ‘point me where to go and I’ll start swingin,’ type of hero. You actually have to use that noggin of yours to do your job.”

“Okay…”

“Hey guys!” Snuffy Grey showed up with a plain white box in her hands, “Good news! They had cream filled doughnuts!”

Matt followed behind her, munching on a bearclaw stuck in his mouth, a drink carrier in his right hand, his katana in the other. His eyes were narrowed as if he were amused.

“What happened?” Cedric asked his high school friend.

“Oh, nothing important,” Matt plucked the doughnut from his mouth with his free hand after setting down the drinks, “I just made an idle joke that Snuffy shouldn’t bulk up on so many éclairs. Her boyfriend might not like all that junk in the trunk…”

“Ooh,” Nester chuckled, “You’re lucky you just ended up with a bearclaw in your mouth.”

Matt made to say something, but the words were lost when he suddenly started floating in the air. He looked quizzically to his friends, then noticed the mischievous smirk on the small girl’s face.

“Uh-oh…” was all Mad Matt McGinty could get out before he went hurtling over the side of the cliff.

“There’s… There’s water down there, right?” Sarah asked after the fact.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Cedric waved off her concern and popped open the doughnut box, “He’s got one of those jump jet packs, right?”

“He better,” Nester looked over the ledge, “Yep, water. Brown, but water nonetheless. I can see the splash he made. Ope! Here he comes…”

The sound of a jump jet straining to do a job it was never meant to do was heard a few minutes later, followed by a curse and the screaming of Mad Matt as he fell yet again. Nester looked over the edge to see he had landed in the water again.

“Man, he’s just down on his luck today,” Ryat99 intoned.

“That’s what happens when you tick me off,” Sarah laughed at the big machine, “There’s just some topics I don’t take lightly to.”

“And well you shouldn’t,” Nester arched an eyebrow at her, “It’s just… I think you overreacted slightly…”

“You want some of this!?” Snuffy put her fingers to her temples and smirked mockingly at Nester.

Nester started floating in the air in response, a light smirk evident on his face as well. Sarah just pouted.

“Aw, you’re no fun…”

Gasping was heard and they turned to see a wet and muddy McGinty storming toward them.

“That was a horrible thing to do,” Matt barked at the smaller girl who was backing away, not so much because she was afraid, but because she didn’t want mud on her, “But the jump jet, I don’t blame you for that one. That was my mistake…”

Nester hit Matt with some nanites and microbes, restoring any injuries the scrapper may have suffered, then turned his attention back to his doughnut.

“Thanks,” Matt grimaced, “Aw… the ants got my bearclaw…”

He snagged a new pastry from the box and the crew started hammering out a plan for Overbrook.

“Dad, Ced and I will work with Doc Delilah and Longbow,” Nester started, “There’s a lot of trouble brewin’ over in the dig sites and the other side of the dam, and we’re pretty much the only ones equipped to deal with it right now. Snuffy, I’m putting you in charge of the stuff here in Overbrook, the residential areas…”

Sarah almost choked on her doughnut, “But that puts me in command of two robots and this moron!”

Matt simply nodded.

“Why isn’t Sheldon out here like he should be?”

“He convinced your dad he’s better off being tech man,” Nester swigged back his soda before continuing, “Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure he gets some work done here. And when he does, he’s still under your command. His skirting out of this cinched the decision between the two of you on who should be in charge up here.”

“Oh…” Sarah nibbled a little on an éclair, “Okay.”

“You’ll be working with Jim Temblor and Penelope Yin. You might like Yin, she’s a psychic, like you.”

“Don’t go making assumptions about personal preferences just because of our powers,” Sarah Grey warned, “Joe doesn’t have any powers, but I like him all the same.”

“Yeah, but you think he’s cute,” Cedric laughed, “I bet you’ll think Penny is nice. I’ve met her a couple times, she’s pretty cool.”

“Mkay,” Sarah shrugged, “If you think she’s cool, I’m willing to give it a go.”

“I hear she has clockwork protecting her,” Ryat99 interjected, “Wouldn’t the King be a little perturbed about that?”

“I don’t think so,” Ryat66 answered, “Old CK thinks he’s doing a service for this city… He probably took a look at her situation and just figures he should let her keep them.”

Nester arched an eyebrow at the two machines, “Do… Do you two ever… feel like the Clockwork King is trying to talk to you? Vandal or Nemesis maybe?”

“No,” Ryat99 replied, “I know we’re made of the parts of those different robots, but the programming is all Mr. Wallace's.”

“Yeah,” Ryat66 concurred, “We’re autonomous, and act as we do because of our devotion to our friends. In fact, Miss Grey, I would like to say it will be an honor to work for you again.”

“Oh, thank you, Sixty-six,” the blond cutie patted the diminutive android on the head.

“Well, we’ve got our assignments,” Cedric finished his drink, “We better get crackin, the day’s a wastin.”

Nester nodded and started floating again. Matt drew his blade and started making his way to the nearest group of Lost. Sarah started following him with the two androids flanking her. Nester flew off the cliff and Cedric prepared to make a “leap of faith.”

Suddenly, his communicator blared.

“Mushi-mushi,” he said once he got the device to his ear, “Oh, hey, man. What? Hang on, you’re where? Does Dad know? Wait… What? Round! ROUND!”

He stared at his again silent communicator, irritation evident on his face. He punched in a few more buttons and held the communicator to his ear again.

“Nester!”

“What? What’re you doing still on the cliff?”

“I just got a call from Round!”

“Really? How’s he doing?”

“He’s in the city!”

“What? But I thought he was in Kingdale, running the bar…”

“No, he’s here, he said he’s looking for Mom.”

Nester was silent on the other end.

“He thinks she’s still alive and she’s here!”

“Cedric… I… I don’t know what to say…”

“Just… I…”

“Look, Cedric, you need to talk to Round. I understand. I can probably get snatched up by some other team of heroes and we can go site-sweeping. You get a hold of your brother. Chances are, he’s new to the city, so he’s probably sticking to Atlas Park or Galaxy City. Find out what’s going on, man.”

“Okay, cool,” Cedric started running to the tunnel at the north end of the war wall that led to Skyway City, “Thanks, Nest. I’ll make it up to ya, I promise.”

“Good luck, man.”

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

“Excellent…” the Arachnos Webmaster hissed through his translucent helmet, “Soon, we shall have another working portal for Lord Recluse to take advantage of…”

The Portal Corporation scientists shuddered under the watchful eyes of the Arachnos troops that held them hostage. The experiment was a risky one, and they knew working in such close proximity to the Rogue Isles made them prime targets, but they had hopes that the Longbow troops and their personal security corps would be enough to fend off any random incursions. Unfortunately, Arachnos had taken a keen interest in their current experiment. Lord Recluse had sent a few supervillains along with a contingent of heavily armed and armored troops, and they had wiped out the defenses of the derelict oil derrick in just under half an hour.

The troops weren’t dead, just unconscious. One of the villains had a distaste for death… apparently, she had seen the other side and was violently opposed to killing. So, now all the Longbow and security forces were bound and gagged in one of the derrick’s lower rooms. The supervillains left the base to the Arachnos troops, who were now in the process of forcing the Portal Corp scientists to continue the experiment.

“Praetorian Earth, you call it?” the Webmaster rubbed the center of his torso armor, the mechanical “legs” twitching excitedly, “A mirror universe where everything is the opposite of here? How droll…”

“It’s not exactly the opposite…” the lead scientist protested, “It’s a skewed version of our world. If ours is the prime, most optimal result, then the various other universes are ectypes to us… Most of them are exceptionally similar to ours, but have subtle differences…”

“Yeah, yeah,” the Webmaster waved the scientist off, “I saw that T.V. show on the science fiction channel. I got the gist of the theory…”

“So you understand the basic concept…” the scientist brought up an image on a monitor, “And here’s what we’ve found so far… A ‘Council’ Earth, several ‘Nemesis” Earths… Even Rikti Earth…”

“You found the bastards?” the Webmaster leaned in close to the monitor, “Granted, Doctor, I know we’re on opposite sides of the spectrum here, but, uh… if you gave me the notes on how to get there, I could get them to the proper people in Arachnos and we could start dishing out some payback on the Rikti’s home field… I lost friends and family in that war, too, you know…”

The scientist backed away, shock clearly evident on his face. The Webmaster regarded him, the eight blinking red lights turning toward the older man.

“Realizing you’re being a bit free with your information?”

“Uh… ahem… well…”

“Relax, doctor,” the Webmaster straightened to his full eight-foot height again, “It’s better that you tell me what you can now. I don’t want to have to torture you or your colleagues for what Arachnos wants to know. And, unlike those spineless ‘Chosen,’ we’ve got no qualms about whether or not you die.”

“I-I… I understand,” the scientist stammered.

“Now, please… Praetorian Earth…”

“Ah, yes…” the scientist punched a few buttons on the computer and an image of a desolated city appeared on the screen, “Praetorian Earth.”

“Woah… Council Earth wasn’t that bad…”

“Yes. In Praetorian Earth, we believe an optimum society was devastated when Tyrant and his alliance of supervillains conquered and pillaged their world, Upsilon Beta 9-6. They then started expanding outward, and worked to conquer many more worlds. There are several thousand ‘dead’ Earths now as a result… and the heroes and villains they gained form those worlds have been either killed or added to the ranks of the Praetorians. One world that isn’t dead is War Earth, the home of Battle Maiden…”

“I’ve heard of her, Valkyrie’s analogue, right?”

“Yes… and her world is practically used as a training ground for the Praetorian forces that aren’t monstrous radioactive Clockwork…”

The Webmaster crossed his arms over his chest and glowered down at the scientist. The silence of their conversation was filled with the sounds of the other scientists working and the hum of the portal-gate machinery as energy was routed through it. He glanced up at the small orb of light that floated in the center of the ring.

“So… If I’m getting this right, you’re trying to see if there’s any other groups in Praetorian Earth…”

“Well, the thing is, we’ve run into an analogue of a villain group called the Carnival of Light…”

“Those circus performers?” the Webmaster was incredulous, “Good gawd! And I thought the C.o.S. were annoying… They’re do-gooders in Praetoria?”

“Well, yes…”

“So it’s a world that is exactly the opposite of this one…” the Webmaster paused a moment, “Well, except for landmass, right?”

“Right, which was why we wanted to conduct this experiment here…”

“You wanted to see if there was a Praetorian version of Arachnos,” the Webmaster started chuckling, “That’s funny. I can’t imagine what kinds of crackpot theories you boys at Portal Corp had in mind, but I can guarantee you the ‘Arachnos’ of that world won’t be able to hold a candle to the Arachnos of this world. Go ahead, power up the machine and show me what’s on the other side.”

So the scientists kept working. It took them a few hours and a Longbow supply helicopter was shot down. The Webmaster decided he’d best patrol outside so any further attacks could be dealt with quickly. While he was outside, the portal was eventually made ready.

“Well?” a Wolf Spider Huntsman gripped his shotgun threateningly as he growled at the scientists, “If you’re ready, fire it up! Let’s see our ‘cousins’ on the other side…”

“Are you sure?” a tech near the front asked nervously, his voice cracking audibly, “I mean, anybody with half a mind knows that is a notoriously bad idea…”

A shotgun blast into the ceiling was their answer and the scientists, after a shocked pause, got to work activating the portal.

“Sir?” the Huntsman asked into his radio, “Oh no. The scientists are done, they started getting uppity, so I put the fear of God into ‘em. Mm-hm. They’re starting the portal now…”

The rings spun faster and faster, electricity arcing off and getting absorbed into rubber padding on the floor, walls, and ceiling. The glowing orb rotated and strobed every so often. The room started shaking, as if gravity from some unknown source were exerting its force on the derrick, and some of the troops fingered their weapons nervously. The Huntsman, however, stared into the orb in the center of the rings. He raised his shotgun and pointed it at the breach.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light. The troops weren’t blinded, but they missed the figure that dove out of the portal and rolled into the center of the room. By the time they realized something was up, it was too late.

The Huntsman’s shotgun clattered to the floor, followed shortly by its owner. Blood trickled out of a wound in his right shoulder, and he was fumbling with his left hand through his armor to try to staunch the flow. The other troops, stunned, slowly realized there was a newcomer in their midst.

He wore a cowboy hat, sunglasses, face mask, and a backpack with ammunition pouches mounted to the straps. A rifle was slung over his shoulder, muzzle down and with the strap attached so it would normally have gone across his back if the backpack weren’t there. His outfit was the familiar dark-blue military outfit favored by the members of Prime Earth’s Malta Group, and he had two semi-automatic appearing pistols drawn, crossed in front of him, and aimed at the two next Arachnos troops from the huntsman.

“No way…” one of the troops gasped.

The Gunslinger fired, his pistols, turning out to be fully automatic, and bursts of fire unleashed volleys of death-dealing lead that shattered through the Arachnos troopers’ armor and left them broken and crumpled against the walls. The Gunslinger dove, ducked, and dodged his way through the room, using the various pillars, desks, chairs and consoles for cover. Not a single Arachnos round found home and the soldiers were eradicated in less than a minute.

The Gunslinger wasted no time. As the boot-on-steel sound of reinforcements started getting louder, the uniformed warrior pulled some cords on his straps and the backpack fell from the harness. He unzipped the main pouch and withdrew a couple stunted metal cylindrical objects. With these, he pressed buttons on their tops and tossed at the corners of the door. The cylinders popped open and miniature chainguns popped up. They weren’t like the hero-style chainguns, or even the Malta ones, they just had one revolving set of barrels apiece and half the ammunition.

However, they fulfilled their purpose as the reinforcements arrived and were mowed down by laser-guided metal death…

The Gunslinger, in this time, had reloaded his pistols, but then holstered them in favor of his rifle. He went to the windows and started sniping any and all troopers he saw patrolling the rest of the derrick. When the remaining twelve Arachnos troops organized a charge against this intruder, he switched to “full-auto” and again mowed down the troops before they could effectively harm him.

“Pathetic,” a high-toned voice snapped from behind the mask as the Gunslinger reslung his rifle across his back, then he turned to the nearest scientist, “You! What’s going on here?”

“Uh…”

“RAAAAAAAAAAH!” the Webmaster started charging down the hall toward the portal room. The ends of his “spider legs” started glowing a dangerous shade of red.

“Oh, goodie-gumdrops,” the soldier hissed, “This tall drink of water thinks he’s intimidating me, huh?”

The Gunslinger pressed some buttons on a band on his wrist and disappeared. The Webmaster’s weaponry fired, and red streams of plasma energy flew across the room, making contact not with their target, but with the portal device, sending the ring flying from its moorings and the rest of the apparatus was destroyed instantly. Whatever wasn’t vaporized instantly bored into the surrounding walls and furniture. Behind the Webmaster, there was a click.

“I’m not impressed.” The Gunslinger intoned as he pulled the trigger and squeezed until the clip was dry.

The armor piercing ammunition tore through the Webmaster’s suit and destroyed the control mechanisms to the spider legs. As they started to flail about wildly, the Gunslinger gave a vicious kick to the larger man’s back and sent him hurtling through the room. As the Webmaster rolled over, the scientists and the Gunslinger could see several pieces of the portal machinery had also smashed through the black armor of the Arachnos operations commander. The damage took its toll, and with oil, coolant, fuel, and even some blood leaking out of the suit, the bladed weaponized legs quivered to a stop, a threat to no one anymore.

“Ugh…” he choked out, “This went south real fast…”

“Oh yes,” the Gunslinger walked toward the broken man, “You and your men, you’ve made a grievous error. You especially, little man. Now, how the Hell am I supposed to get home, huh?”

He gave the Webmaster’s helmet a kick.

“Good thing you ain’t dead yet… I’m gonna be bored, and I’ll need something to entertain me…”

“Wait!” the head scientist yelled.

The Gunslinger aimed his loaded pistol at the older man and glared at him through his dark shades, “Shut the frack up, old man! This is as much your fault as his! I’ll deal with this situation how I want!”

“But there’s more to this than you know!” the scientist pushed, “There’s more to this world than just this brutish thug… Please, you have to listen to me…”

“Why for?”

The sound of a helicopter approaching answered him.

“It’s like a scumbag yardsale…” the Gunslinger spat as he moved to a window that overlooked the landing pad, “What the Hell?”

He was surprised by the red-and-white paintjob on the helicopter. After it landed and Longbow’s soldiers, in their starkly different-from-Arachnos uniforms, started hopping out of the back, the Gunslinger lowered his weapon.

“I’ll admit, I’m not too bright,” he said as he walked up to the head scientist, “But I know contested territory when I see it. I want you to tell me, who’re the good guys, and which one do you work for?”

“They’re the good-guys,” the scientist replied, and he pointed out the window, relief entering his face, “and we work with them. We had breached your world at the behest of both sides, but I can assure you, our, and Longbow’s, intent was purely benevolent. These… Arachnos… soldiers wanted to see what kinds of threats were on your end…”

“I guess it’s a safe bet they weren’t prepared,” the Gunslinger’s high-toned voice sounded humorous, “Okay, I’ll calm down…”

The Longbow troops entered the room and their Warden, a psychic, scanned everyone. When her attention came to the Malta Group seeming soldier leaning against the wall, unloading his weapons and popping ammunition out of his clips and magazines, she started.

“Who the Hell are you?”

“Me?” the Gunslinger intoned, “I’m Cobalt Black 3-8-9. Elite Agent of the Maltese Resistance. My birth name is Kipland Durj.”

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

“Thanks, Roland,” the red-armored tanker hollered through her thick faceplate.

“Yeah, man, you rocked!” the team’s ice blaster cheered.

“Sorry I can’t stick around anymore,” the pudgy defender they were talking to replied, “I’m just exhausted…”

“Yeah, we’re probably gonna call it a night, too,” the tanker stretched her arms and looked to the setting sun, “Hopefully, we’ll all get together again.”

Roland nodded and started sauntering off, his hunting bow crooked over his shoulder. He had been in the city for a little over a month, now, and he’d already picked up on a lot of the nuances of hero-work. He also knew he wouldn’t really be seeing that team again.

It wasn’t that they were bad… In fact, they were one of the best teams he’d met so far. However, he knew that in the coming days and weeks, they were likely to find other things to do with their lives. Sometimes, the life of an accountant, lawyer, or even garbage truck driver has a preferable “risk-to-reward” ratio than the life of a hero.

Roland sighed.

“This is such a stupid job…”

A Council soldier, one of the Nebula unit, hopped over a fence, panic evident on his face. Roland flipped his bow down to his hand, drew a flashbang arrow and let fly. The audible “thunk” the soldier made as he ran blindly into a wall brought a smile to the young hero’s face and he continued on his way.

“Hey, no kill-steals!” he heard somebody yell behind him, but he was already rounding the corner to his apartment.

“There are some perks, I’ll admit,” he told himself as he got into the elevator, “I mean, I can’t just go and shoot every random scumbag back home…”

The apartment Freedom Corps assigned him was nice. There weren’t many frills, and he only got basic cable, but he also got internet access, a free fridge, free stove and oven, and a washer and a dryer.

He threw his uniform, an “oldie-but-goodie” sweatshirt, a pair of camouflage pants, and his socks, in the washer and threw on some civvies, which happened to be a sweatshirt and sweatpants. He then set about making himself some hot chocolate. He was a gourmand of sorts, and preferred to make his own coco, so the process for him was a tad longer than it was for others.

“Chocolate, milk, sugar…” he ran through the ingredients, measured them out, and put them into a coffee pot. As he was setting the stove, there was a knock at the door.

“Sonova,” he cursed as he shut off the stove altogether, “I’m coming, I’m coming, hold your horses…”

He opened the door and was greeted by his brother’s chiseled chest. He shook his head stoically.

“I’d say this hero crap’s gone to your head, and that you’ve forgotten even how to wear clothes, but that would imply you knew the skill in the first place.”

“It’s good to see you, too, brother,” Cedric laughed, “Well!? You gonna invite me in?”

“I thought that was implied,” Roland walked back into the living room and righted some throw pillows on his couch, “Sit back, relax, tell me what’s up.”

“Well, Dad’s running a super group, if you can believe that. He’s not too keen on advertising, though, so we’re still pretty small…”

“Uh-huh…” Roland called from the kitchen, “That a not-so-subtle request for me to join?”

“If you would, that’d be great, man.”

“Cool, send the code to my comm, I’ll accept.”

Cedric hit a few buttons on his communicator and his younger brother’s started to beep, “Nester’s in charge of Grey’s Army’s presence in New Overbrook, the Faultline…”

“I know what New Overbrook is.”

“Cool, cool. So, I guess that sorta brings me to why we’re here… Or rather, why you’re here and what I’m asking about.”

“Mom.” Roland Grey stood at the entrance to his kitchen, arms folded over his chest.

“Round… Roland… She’s dead…”

The younger brother shook his head and went back into the kitchen. Cedric followed.

“She got abducted, man! The Rikti were everywhere! They tore through our town like piranha in a meat tank! Lots of folks lost family to that attack, man! It was a miracle that we survived, and now you’re here, talking nonsense and driving yourself bat-[censored] crazy! And the sick thing is, if she ain’t dead, she’s one of the Lost, or a Rikti!”

Roland hit the button on his communicator to accept Cedric’s offer to join Grey’s Army and started cycling through options, “I was able to get a favor from one of the operators here in the city…”

“Really, at a sub-ten security level?” Cedric scratched his temple, “That’s… odd… What kind of favor?”

“A recording,” Roland hit a button and let the communicator play, “Listen…”

The communicator also had a handy visual aid for people who couldn’t understand what was being said. It was currently playing in English…
…*ring*click*
Roland Grey: “Hello?”
Unregistered Female Voice: “Roland?”
Roland Grey: “Who is this?”
Unregistered Female Voice: “Roland, is your father there?”
Roland Grey: “…”
Unregistered Female Voice: “Roland? Put your father on the phone…”
Roland Grey: “M… Mom?”
Unregistered Female Voice: Sounds of fighting. “Oh no! Roland, tell Randy to get to Paragon City! Tell him to look in Boomtown! He’ll know what to do when he gets here!”
Roland Grey: “Mom! Ma! Wait!”
-End Communication-

Roland turned off his communicator, his eyes were slightly moist from tears. Cedric was pale and wide-eyed with shock.

“No [censored] way!” he spat, “That… that couldn’t have been Ma…”

“I already played this for Snuffy… She wasn’t too happy. I haven’t heard from her in a week.”

“Jebus Cripes man!” Cedric shouted and tore into Roland’s living room, “Of course you haven’t! What the Hell is wrong with you! We had accepted Ma was dead! Sure, Dad’s drinking harder than ever, Sarah goes clubbing and dances away her hurt… And I… well, I do admit I get a little extra thrill every time I cut down another bad guy, because that’s bringing me one bad guy closer to security level thirty, and that’s when I start getting some payback for what those Rikti bastards did to us!”

“I didn’t come here to argue about your loss of faith, Cedric,” Roland growled, at times he could be frighteningly similar to their father, “I came to get Mom back, take her home, and put this whole ordeal behind us!”

“Roland! There's no bringing Ma back! That was not Mom!” Cedric kicked over Round’s coffee table for emphasis, “Stop deluding yourself!”

“I was the first one to accept Mom was gone!” Roland roared back and thrust his face into Cedric’s, “I am NOT deluding myself! Who else could it have been? Who knows dad has kids? Who knows how to get in contact with us, with me?”

“It’s best not to ask questions like that,” a high-toned voice answered.

The brothers looked to the apartment door and saw two Kip Durjes flanking a pale-faced Sarah Grey. Her lower lip was quivering.

“Who the Hell are you?” Cedric barked at the Malta-dressed Kip.

“Cobalt Black…” he made to say more, then thought better of it, “Screw the numbers, just call me Cobalt Black instead of Kip.”

“He’s my Praetorian.” The original Kip explained, “Freedom Corps and Longbow picked him up on some secret facility somewhere and decided to dump him on me until they can figure out a way to send him home…”

“It’s been rocky,” the new Kip muttered, “I’ve been attacked more than once by heroes thinking I’m a Malta Group Gunslinger, and a couple Malta Group operatives have come after me thinking I’m a rogue agent… God, I hate them so much…”

“Who the Hell are the Malta Group?” Cedric asked, clearly dumbfounded.

“They’re probably the reason Roland’s here,” Kip explained, “and why I brought Mirror Mirror, here, over. Look, all I can say is that the phone call you heard, Round, may have been part of an elaborate plot to get to your father.”

“No…” Roland’s legs almost collapsed under him, “It just can’t be…”

Cedric gripped his brother’s shoulder, “It’s okay…”

Sarah, weeping suddenly, jumped to her brothers and hugged them.

“I… I had to tell somebody… Kip’s always been there for me…”

“I understand,” Roland hugged his little sister, “It’s okay…”

“So… until we can be sure this isn’t a Malta Group plot,” Cobalt Black started scoping the windows, “I’m going to have to live with you, Roland Grey. It’ll be nice, I guess, to meet the better half…”

“Whaddaya mean?” Cedric intoned as he guided his sister to the couch.

“Well,” Cobalt drew the curtains shut and turned to the siblings, “Back home, you’re dead, she’s one of Mother Mayhem’s ‘students,’ and I don’t even know what happened to your ‘twin,’ Roland.”

“Yeah, I knew about mine,” Cedric laughed, “I was using his axe a couple weeks back. He was trying to take over my body!”

“Huh, we were wondering what happened to that axe,” Cobalt Black sat down on one of the chairs, “We thought we could’ve used it against Diabolique or something… It was rumored the axe was called Soul Killer, and could, well, devour souls…”

“Well, it definitely drank his…” Cedric shrugged.

“The theory we have is Battle Maiden did him in with his own weapon in a duel… Cedric the Gray may have been trying to claim her as his bride..."

“That ain’t cool…”

“Was the weapon draining souls as you used it?” Cobalt looked hopeful.

“Nah, just granting him a conduit from which he could try to take me over.”

“Damn.”

Roland threw the coffee table right-side up again, then slammed his palms down on it.

“Can we please get back to the matter at hand!?”

“What?” Kip asked, “Oh, hey Roland, I think your hot chocolate’s burning…”

“God dammit!” Roland ran into the kitchen, a smoke alarm blaring just as he got to the stove, “Ooh, this is shaping up to be a wonderful evening…”

They waited for a few miserable minutes until Roland came back, grumbling to himself. After a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence, he finally pointed at Cedric.

“You! I don’t care what you think, I’m looking for Mom!” Roland turned to his sister, “You! I told you about my reasons for being here because I thought you’d want to help! I didn’t expect you to get all shaken up and start blubbering to this guy…” he jerked his thumb to Kip, “Which brings me to you… Even if this ‘Malta Group’ has a beef with Dad, I doubt they’d have the capability, or even the need to finagle a scheme to drag his last estranged child into the city in some half-baked ploy to draw him out! If they want him so bad, they can crash the nearest bar and I’ll bet he’d be there! Not to mention they’d have a Helluvatime trying to mimic Mom’s voice! Now, you’re not unloading you’re little twin off on me, and screw you for trying to seed doubt into my mission!”

Kip regarded him for a few seconds then nodded. His lips were pressed into a grim line. Cobalt Black stood and started heading for the door.

“Told ya he wouldn’t go for it.”

“This isn’t a joke,” Kip and Roland said at the same time.

“I know,” Cobalt Black agreed, “And you know what, he has a good point about these Malta Goons. There’s plenty of easier things they can do to deal with your group’s boss. And you know something, I haven’t even known this guy as long as the rest of you and I’ve got a good feeling he’s on to something big. He strikes me as one of those people where if he talks, you should listen. Now, Kip, I’m going home. Cedric, Sarah, Roland, it was good meeting all of you. I hope you find Mrs. Grey, and I hope she’s alright. If I had even an inkling that my parents were alive back home, I’d move heaven and earth to find them…”

The group just sat quietly in the apartment, staring at the floor.

“Okay, Cobalt,” Kip broke the silence, “I’m gonna go raid some Nemesis bases I’ve got some leads on… I’ll see you later, man.”

When the Durj ‘twins’ left, the Greys were left alone. They sat quietly, Roland sitting glumly on his coffee table, Cedric hugging Sarah on the couch.

“Okay,” she finally squeaked, “I’ll help you look.”

“I will, too,” Cedric choked out, “*cough* I got something in my throat… I think I know where we can start looking…”

“If it’s Boomtown, don’t bother,” Roland leaned back, craning his head up to the ceiling, “I already checked there and it’s way too much for a person of my skills and security level…”

“I meant the Faultline,” Cedric replied, “Mom was a zooarchaeologist, right? Chances are she’d head out there to for a job if she was in the city. I know they’re hurtin for people in her line of work to help with the excavations. I’ll talk to Doc Delilah tomorrow…”

“Maybe get one of the Ryats to keep an eye out for Mom,” Snuffy chirped, her eyes glittering with hope.

“And maybe I can round up some more heroes and scour Boomtown some more,” Roland shrugged.

“No, brother,” Cedric got up and started making for the door, “I’ve been through there a few times. Wait for me, and I’ll take you up there myself. For now, just work on your skills, get some more trick arrows, and keep making the Paragon Police happy. Trust me, man, the contacts you make in this city are what get you the best rewards…”

“I probably won’t be here long enough to need that…” Roland muttered, “Well, okay… I’ll do it.”

“Alright,” Cedric turned to his siblings one final time, “I’m heading out. Snuffy? You headin out, too?”

“Maybe later,” she replied.

“Okay,” Cedric opened the door, walked out, and before shutting it, popped his head back in, “Later man, later. And Round?”

“Yeah bro?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t mention it,” Roland waved his brother off as the door closed, then he turned to his little sister, “So, what’s up?”

“Well…” Sarah looked to the kitchen, “I was thinking it would be a shame to leave here without having a cup of your hot coco…”

Roland Grey smiled.

“Good idea, sis. Let’s have some hot chocolate…”

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

“Thanks for the help, Doc…”

Doctor Stein dropped a couple boxes full of papers on the coffee table in front of Cedric and his large robotic companion. When she looked askance at the big machine, Cedric gave Ryat99 a pat on the leg.

“Sheldon said 99 here has the processors to help with this. Apparently, this big burly tank has a penchant for books.”

“Are you the messiah?” Ryat99’s deep voice suddenly burst from the scoops on the sides of his head, “Is this the line to Reno?”

Cedric stared at the machine for a few seconds before explaining, “He’s… He’s got a few bugs in his system…”

“I kind of have to cycle through unusual phrases every so often,” the robot said in it’s deep, neutral tone of voice, “My creator is still trying to figure it out… ‘Are you the Messiah?’ is always the first, and ‘Is this the line to Reno?’ usually follows. I never know I said them… Did… Did I say those phrases?”

Cedric nodded with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, good… I’m ready to work, then,” it rested its three-clawed hands on its knees.

“Oh…. Kay…” Doc Delilah popped the top off one of the boxes and pulled out a bound sheaf of papers, “Well, here’s the first of our employment records…”

“Again,” Cedric groaned as he pulled out another sheaf, “Thanks. This’ll really help…”

“I didn’t realize this was the reason for your interest in helping me…” Stein replied, “If I’d known you were looking for your mom, I’d have helped…”

“Well… It’s a long story…” Cedric scratched the back of his head and started rifling through the lists of names, “Construction… Construction… Security… Other… Other… Lot’s of “Other” here.”

“Freedom Corps and Longbow,” Stein replied, “Ryat… Isn’t that too much?”

The android had four sheafs in its hands and was opening the first.

“Oh no,” it replied, “I’m going to rifle through these at max-processor speed instead of realtime. It’s a bit disconcerting to first-time viewers… But it’ll make our time here go by much quicker.”

“Oh, well, then, speed-read away,” Stein popped open her sheaf and started reading, “What’s the name again?”

“Charlene Grey…” Cedric replied, “Maybe Daring. Specialized in zooarchaeology…”

“Animal bones?” Doc Delilah raised an eyebrow, “Not gonna find much of those in supergroup bases…”

“Well, she had the skills for plenty of other archaeological work… She did digs for Fort Drum back home, one in New York City…”

“Why do you always say the city? I’m sure people know what you mean?”

“I’m from northern New York,” Cedric leaned back, a half grin on his face, “Most people forget the rest of us exist. I went through my military career having to remind people I wasn’t from that ‘burg,’ and sometimes people wouldn’t give me the chance…”

“I see…”

“I developed a habit of telling people ‘Northern New York’ when asked where I was from…”

“Uh-huh…”

“Next!” Ryat99 suddenly burst out as he tossed the fourth sheaf perfectly upside down onto a neat stack sitting next to him and proceeded to dig out another stack of four sheafs.

“Anything yet, 99?” Cedric asked, a subtle note of hope tinging his voice.

“No, sir,” the large android replied, “But we’re nowhere near done yet…”

“Right…”

They got back to reading, Ryat99 devouring lists in minutes while Cedric and Doctor Stein looked on in stunned silence. The pages just buzzed as Ryat99 seemed to just look at them.

“It’s like being in an Ayn Race book,” Delilah chuckled.

Ryat99 finished off his box and unceremoniously dove into the other box. Cedric decided he may as well toss his book into the box and let the robot have a go at it. Delilah did the same and the two continued talking.

“So, what got you into hero work?” Delilah asked the younger tanker.

“Well, I was a Marine during the Rikti War, and I realized that I had a penchant for going into crazy fights and coming out mostly unhurt. After a couple years of downtime, I decided I may as well help out my dad here in the city… I pretty much stumbled onto the axe I was using and that’s been my shtick ever since.”

“Hm. So… What about your mother?”

“Well…” Cedric glanced over at the robot, “I… thought she was dead… The Rikti weren’t kind to my hometown…”

“I see…”

“Well, Rou… Roland let me know about his suspicions, and now, here I am…”

“It’s okay,” Delilah patted his knee, “Everybody buries themselves in something to take away the hurt… You’re lucky. You might be able to have a second chance…”

Cedric nodded and bit his lip.

“Found her!” Ryat99 suddenly burst out, “I missed it in a previous list… Charlene Daring-Grey, digger, cataloguer, cartographer. She hasn’t reported into work for two weeks, however. Let me check…”

“Oh my God,” Cedric breathed, “99, I could kiss you if I felt that way about machines. Aw, Hell with it…”

Cedric leapt up and hugged the burly droid. The machine reciprocated with a light squeeze of one arm.

“Here we go,” Ryat99 muttered, “Missing Persons report filed two Fridays ago… Charlene-Daring Grey, last seen in Steel Canyon near the Baumton entrance. While advised not to enter, she apparently had clearance… Hero clearance?”

“Hero clearance?” Cedric looked to Doc Delilah, “My Mom didn’t have super powers…”

“Better look into it, then,” Delilah shrugged, “But it sounds like you’ve got your mission.”

Cedric activated his communicator and dialed his brother’s number.

“Roland! Tell me you’ve got level 11 security clearance! Uh-huh… Uh-huh… Okay, shut up a sec… You’re right, man! Ryat99 and I got a positive lead…”

“Hey!” the droid quipped, oddly still in a neutral tone.

“Okay, 99 did everything, but still! You were right man! We gotta get to Boomtown and fast! I don’t know what Mom’s up to, but that’s the last place she was seen! Hop to, man! Kay, I’ll see you at the Yellow Line!”

He turned off the communicator, grabbed his axe then turned to Doctor Stein.

“Doc,” he gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, I couldn’t have done this without your help!”

“Cedric,” her eyes narrowed, playfully, but still narrow, “you’re touching me. Let go of my shoulders.”

“Right, jetpack…” Cedric chuckled, “Still… I owe you a favor, so how about dinner?”

“No.”

“Lunch?”

“Not happenin.”

“Okay, fine. Ryat99 will help you clear out five more sites.”

“Hey!” the droid stood up and turned its faceplate to Cedric, “That’s not right!”

“Sorry man, but you’re all I’ve got!”

“Cedric, you’ll help me clear some sites. And they’re not dates. I’ve got almost every male hero in the city hitting on me, not to mention that moron Castillo… You know he’s out of the Zig again?”

“Wow, just… wow…” Cedric groaned, “How many times does that happen?”

“Criminals get out for good behavior so often, now…” Delilah grumbled, “Look, you’re cute, Ced, but I just can’t… You’re like a co-worker to me, alright. Now, look, you’ve got work to do, and you better get to it.”

“Yeah…” Cedric drew his axe and headed for the balcony door, “99! Give Sheldon a report on our progress… Let them know I’m snaggin my brother and goin into Boomtown to find out what’s going on.”

“Right boss.” The droid replied, “Am I still attached to that assignment of five sites?”

“Sure, why not,” Cedric shrugged, “It’s good PR for the SG.”

“Alright,” the droid stood, “Doctor, it was a pleasure working with you again.”

“Same to you, big guy,” She stood and started pushing him toward Cedric, “Now, get out of my apartment.”

“Alright…” the droid replied placidly as he kicked on the wheels in his feet to make for easier rolling.

Cedric, however, gave an audible yelp as he was forcefully launched out the door by the mass of Ryat99’s chassis. He then dusted himself off, bowed, and threw his axe into the distance. A chain trailed behind it, extending from the wristguard he wore on that particular uniform, and he suddenly leapt from the balcony and into the wild blue yonder. Ryat99 gave her a salute and simply flew away, tiny thrusters on his back allowing him a calm hover before he kicked on an afterburner that sent him rocketing into the horizon.

Look out after them, she watched as Cedric smacked into the side of another building and fell among some Lost. Ryat99 was long gone, but that didn’t matter much as the eldest grey sibling was quite capable at this point in his hero career to handle the homeless mutants. She shook her head as he comically and frantically fought them off, then threw his axe again and headed north.

“What a goon…” she chuckled to herself as he disappeared into the tunnel in the war wall, “I hope he succeeds, though, he definitely still needs his mom.”

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

The coin twirled through the air as everybody in the room stared at it in silent awe. The contest had been going for nearly three straight hours, the hero, Randall Grey on one side of the table, the villain Power Breaker on the other. Several piles of beer glasses surrounded them, and in the distance, DJ Zero could be heard tapping his foot angrily. The normally bright, flashy, garish or bizarre motley uniforms surrounding them had been lost in a drunken blur, but their eyes all seemed to be focused on the two contenders in a multitude of unblinking glows.

The coin hit the table and Randall’s hand slapped down on it. His eyes were glazed and half-closed. His head bobbed to the left and right as he leaned forward to look down on the old, beat-up fifty cent piece. He had gotten it from a Family boss he’d beaten up a few months back, noticed it was silver, and decided to hold onto it. Power Breaker leaned forward, too. Whatever those nanites in his bloodstream were doing, they didn’t help him metabolize alcohol any better or oxidize it any faster.

“Ready?” Randy slurred, “Thish ish it…”

“A glash of wishkey…” Power Breaker smiled and shook his head, “Damn, yur crezzy… TAILS!”

Randy lifted his paw from the coin and winced. Power Breaker started laughing and looked down to see the head right-side-up to him and looking off to the left.

“[censored]…” the pale-skinned villain growled, “Can’t even face me…”

Power Breaker leaned back and took up his glass. A nearby defender looked worriedly at the two of them, but Randy pointed sternly at the glass and a scrapper filled it.

“Bye-bye, liver…” Power Breaker said before draining the glass into his gullet, “Good Gahd, that burns!”

They stared at each other for a moment before the massive brute fell to the floor with the group of other heroes and villains that had previously fallen out of the contest. Randy raised his fist in the air for a second before rolling off his own chair with a groan and snoring loudly for the next hour…

“Randy! Randy! Wake up!”

Power Breaker helped the tanker to his feet and the led him to a nearby chair. A Warden was standing nearby and started barking harshly at Randy about “maintaining an image” before Randy shouted him down.

“Hey! Shut the [censored] up! I just got done helping drink a micro brewery into the black! Get off my back and go back to guarding a damn elevator! You don’t deal with what I do…”

Power Breaker held the side of his head with a grimace and leaned away. When the Warden stormed off, grumbling, he turned to the hero, extending his hand.

“I gotta go, Randy. I’ll see you on the flip side… By the way, did that info you beat outta me help?”

“Freedom Corps found a Praetorian Malta Agent… which I guess means he's one of the good guys back there,” Randy replied as he shook the villain’s hand, “It was really weird, because he was the Praetorian of one of my crew…”

“Oh really, wow…” Power Breaker shrugged, “Well, I guess that shows there’s hope for all of us, if he wasn’t a villain..."

“He’s still being watched, but he’s taken a real shine to wailing on the bad guys here in the city.”

“Cool. I’ll see ya later, man.”

Randall spent the next hour sobering up before he finally stood and swaggered for the exit. He ignored the Warden’s stare with a stony face and made his way for King’s Row, where his apartment was. He’d been offered one in other, “classier” zones of the city, but he preferred living with the working class. It was who he was, it was all he knew, and he definitely wasn’t clean enough for areas like Founder’s Falls.

“I don’t know how much more I can do this,” he grumbled as he reached his building.

“Hey, Randy! Uh… My toilet’s backing up again…”

He looked up to the lady that had given the previous superintendent a heart attack because she came up with a new problem for her apartment every day since she’d moved in. When Randy had taken over the job, she had quieted down considerably.

“That’s alright, Marilith, I’ll take care of it…”

As he stared at the clear water backing into the porcelain bowl, a part of him thanked his lucky stars that it wasn’t brown. However, that was drowned out by a loud, angry, violent storm of rage that seemed to well up inside from out of nowhere and he yanked the offending plumbing utility out of the floor and threw it through the wall. All he saw from that point on was red, and he didn’t quite know what happened next, but when he came to, the bathroom was destroyed and Marilith was standing in the doorway, pale-faced and wide-eyed.

“I… I’m sorry…” she squeaked as Randy got his wits about him.

“No… no, it’s not your fault,” Randy panted, “I… I don’t know where that came from…”

He scratched his head as he looked about the bathroom. The walls had been torn away, revealing the insulation, studs, and power cables within. There was a gaping hole where the toilet had smashed through, revealing the outside alley. If Randall had looked down, he’d have seen a Mortificator that now had a severe need for a real doctor. The bathtub was reasonably undamaged, save a fist-shaped dent in the side, but the showerhead had been ripped out and smashed through the ceiling light. He realized suddenly he had a headache, and saw he must have smashed his head through the sink.

“Oh… Marilith… I’m so sorry…” he groaned, “Oh wow… we better find you a new apartment while I fix this one up…”

He spent the rest of the afternoon helping her move into his apartment while he moved into hers. He didn’t have much to move, just a large easy chair and a small television, but she had her whole life to cart out. He was glad he had super strength to help the two of them out. Marilith thanked him sheepishly and went to her new apartment while Randall turned to his new project.

“Maybe I should just live in the base,” he groaned as he surveyed the destruction, “It’d be safer for everyone else…”

After putting up some heavy plastic to cover the hole, he went down to the basement to shut down the power to his new bathroom. It took him a couple tries and a few angry neighbors, but he eventually got it.

“Damn old labeling…” he groaned as he mentally added it to his to-do list, “I can’t leave yet, I gotta fix so much in this place…”

He collapsed in his easy chair at six in the evening and realized he hadn’t really slept since waking the previous morning. As the news rattled on about which hero saved what building, he dozed off into oblivion.

“Randall Grey…”

He awoke with a start, leapt up and realized he was completely sober. It was midnight according to the clock on the TV. The apartment had a deep chill and he heard the rustling of the plastic blowing wildly in the bathroom. He glared wildly about, but couldn’t see what had disturbed him.

“Randall.”

He turned to see a pretty young woman sitting in his easy chair, a white gossamer robe flowing about her. He arched an eyebrow and sat down on the floor, kicking one leg forward and crooking up the other knee to rest his elbow on it. He raked his hair back and leaned against his TV.

“Okay, I’ll bite. Who are you?”

“Just an agent of Freedom Corps, like yourself,” she replied, her spooky, ghostly voice making subtle attempts to shake his soul.

It didn’t work, his soul had long-since turned to stone, like his armor, and he noticed the probe.

“It’s not wise to be using any powers on me,” he grumbled, “Especially not just to put emphasis on your voice.”

“I came to discuss your unfortunate behavior in Pocket D,” the woman continued, her voice echoing through the room, “It is quite unbecoming a hero…”

“I asked you a question, lady… A question you haven’t answered. And if Freedom Corps has a problem with my behavior, they can put me up for review again. I can assure you, next time, I won’t be as well behaved as after the Cube incident.”

“Randall, this is hardly meant to be official… In fact, I’m here to ask you why you behave as you do. You storm through your days, thrashing Council cells, Malta agents and whatever else has the misfortune of crossing your path. Then you hit a bar and get yourself so drunk, you barley know where you are half the time.”

“I know it wasn’t in my nature to trash that bathroom,” he gestured behind her, “So I’m gonna figure you got something to do with that…”

“It’s easier to travel lay lines,” she sighed, “and in your inebriated state, you were easier to influence. I read your dossier, and knew you’d occupy the damaged apartment once finished. I didn’t want to disturb this building more than necessary.”

“You still haven’t told me your name.”

“And I don’t intend to,” she glared sternly at him, “I have other heroes I counsel, and as far as I’m concerned, this is pro bono work. Normally, I assign a thug like you to one of my subordinates and call it a night. But you’re a Security level 50, and I need to make concessions.”

“I see,” Randy smirked, “I guess that means you don’t want a beer, then.”

“Listen, Grey, I don’t have all eternity. If I have to, I’ll delve your mind, and I can assure you, you lack the power to resist me. I need to know why you’re like this so we can begin your therapy…”

Randy leapt up, his face contorted in rage, “You're gonna threaten me!? Get the Hell out! Thanks to you, I got more work than I need right now, and a sore temptation to demonstrate what happened to the last thing to [censored] me off on you! Trust me, I don’t need another hole in the wall! Get the [censored] out, now!”

He stomped over and was about to grab the offending hero by the ankles to dangle her out the window, but she faded away and disappeared before he got a hold of her. A scent of lilac floated through the air and he caught his eyes misting as the smell reminded his lost wife again…

"Damn..." he choked.

“So that’s it…” the woman’s voice echoed on the wind, “I guess I can see why you are the way you are. Farewell, Mr. Grey. I will see what I can do to help ease your pain in more… productive ways.”

“You stay the Hell out of my life,” he roared out the window after her, “You hear me!? You stay the [censored] out of my life!”

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

Most people passing by the warehouse in Industry Pier wouldn’t have glanced twice at the two characters that left the building if it weren’t for the smoke that billowed out of the windows. The two young men of similar height and build immediately made their way southeast, taking a direct route that forced them to utilize a peculiar hydraulic leaping system as opposed to actually walking, running, or even driving like normal people would. One was dressed in dark pants and a dark leather jacket, while the other was all in dark blue military garb, with a mask and hat to cover his face and head. Nobody would have known the two men looked exactly the same.

Kipland Durj and Cobalt Black had been spending the past weeks hunting down Malta Group agents and Nemesis soldiers. It was a fun novelty when the Malta agents at first were surprised to be faced with one of their own, but word spread quickly through the paranoid organization of the “False Gunslinger” or “Rogue Agent.” The last battle would have been an ambush if Kip hadn’t been scoping the scene through the warehouse’s windows.

“I thought you couldn’t use firearms anymore,” Kip yelled to his partner.

“My deal was that Freedom Corps would hold my weapons until I could get home,” Cobalt Black hit the water and immediately the hydraulic jump jets used the impact to fire off another great leap, “I never said anything about not using the weapons of my enemies…”

“You really like using those ice and fire bullets, huh?”

“Oh yeah…”

They landed at the Universal Supergroup Portal located a block from the train station and keyed in their base. They found themselves shortly thereafter in the cold blue steel home of Grey’s Army. Down the hall, they could hear Sheldon Wallace typing furiously.

“Shel! Shel!” Kip called to his old high school friend.

The typing stopped and the white-garbed gadgeteer rolled backwards on an office chair into view. Though the two couldn’t see his eyes, they knew he was glaring. Kip knew his friend’s mannerisms well, and Cobalt was good at reading people.

“You get that fridge working yet?”

“It’s in the new office…” Sheldon waved behind him, “Go on in and see for yourself. Don’t bother me right now.”

“You ever get worried about him?” Cobalt asked his double.

“No. He’s been like that since he was six. More proper than his own good.”

The two made their way into the new command office and found Randall Grey laying facedown on the floor.

“Oh my God! SHEL! SHEL! Get in here quick!”

The young inventor was at their side as quick as the words were out of Kip’s mouth. His previous irritation had vanished, replaced with a mask of genuine concern, which, as he took in the situation in a split second, blurred instantly to horror.

“We gotta get him to a hospital!” an odd buzzing voice issued from his blurry mouth and the three of them struggled to lift the hefty body from the floor. As the situation looked more impossible, Randall was bigger and much heavier than all three combined, the massive beast of a man stirred.

“Leave me alone…”

He rolled to a sitting position with his back to a wall and his head fell back in exhaustion. He gazed wearily at his fellow heroes and grumbled something unintelligible then his eyes closed and he started snoring loudly. Kip stood and headed for the fridge.

“What’d he say?” Cobalt blurted.

“Damned if I know,” Kip replied, “But he looks and smells hung over. I’m getting him some water… Shel, we got any aspirin here?”

“I keep some in my desk,” the controller buzzed as he extended his hand, which suddenly had a plastic bottle in it, “Here you go.”

“Great. Let’s see, typical hangover headaches for the average human body… two tablets… Someone like Randy… Give him half the bottle.”

“That is NOT safe.”

“Yeah? You wanna tell him you’re gonna give him less painkillers in his condition? Half the bottle. We’ll feed him the last of this pizza to keep him alive.”

They woke their boss long enough to medicate him and Cobalt started checking his vital signs. Kip shook his head and headed for the meeting room. Inside the massive table that dominated it were a series of terminals. The supergroup’s second in command hit a button and a small red light started flashing next to the monitor.

“What’s that?” Sheldon asked warily, he didn’t like seeing things in the base he didn’t know about.

“It’s an alarm, it calls all the members of the Group to the base,” Kip replied, “Randy’s in a bad way and getting worse… I remember when he first came here and he called his supergroup ‘Victory or Beer.’ Yeah, we all had a laugh, but if I had an inkling his condition was really as bad as he's gotten, I’d have called this sort of thing a long time ago…”

“An intervention?” Sheldon looked back to the office, “Kip, that guy can take everybody in our crew on one leg with one arm behind his back… We’re not gonna make him quit drinking…”

“Yes,” Kip turned to his friend, his face as stony as their boss’s, “We are.”

The base entrance portal started making whooshing noises as the various members arrived in force. The Grey siblings arrived at once, the daughter giving a bewildered look to her brothers as her cat sprung from her shoulder and made its way to Sheldon’s chair. Ezekiel and Nester Durj followed, the Ryat combat androids after that. Then there was Joe Durnan, along with a red-coated young man who looked about in awe, but remained in the entrance room.

Cory Simmons was last, his face set and grim. The others had no idea he had been dealing with the ethereal disturbance in Randy’s apartment for the past week and a half. While it wasn’t considered proper for heroes to hunt heroes, the wizard felt he had to address the prior impropriety the offending heroine had made by invading randll's life in such a violent fashion. He was successful, and had met the Freedom Corps mystics involved with the intrusion at Randall’s apartment, so he knew what was about to transpire this hour before Kipland did. He had no idea what the result would be, however…

“Everybody in the meeting room,” Kip intoned, “Sheldon, Sarah, do what you can to lift Randy and carry him in there.”

The two controllers looked uneasily to each other and complied as best they could. Cedric followed and applied what strength he had available to help them. It was a slight ordeal, with much grunting and some barks of disapproval from Randy, but the large man eventually found himself seated in one of the meeting table’s seats.

Kip stood up on the table, looked about the group, and nodded.

"Where's Matt?"

"I'm on 'speaker-phone,'" a voice echoed from one end of the table, "I'm kinda' busy with a team clearing out a Troll base. Don't worry, i can keep up with this and you guys at the same time!"

“Looks like we’re all here, then. Cobalt, Sixty-six, Ninety-nine, go to the entrance room and keep an eye on the guest Officer Durnan brought us. This is an issue only we can really deal with.”

Kip’s Praetorian and the two androids nodded and headed for the entrance. When they were gone, Kip turned to his boss, who was presently being fed coffee by Sheldon and his dad.

“Randy…” Kip sat down cross-legged, “We need to talk…”

“What about?” the gruff voice whispered out of the larger man’s beard.

He was barely staying up in his seat.

“Randy, Boss, buddy... you’re in bad shape,” Zeke’s baritone voice was possibly the best the large man could stand in his current condition, and the older man knew this, “We’ve been friends a long time, old man, and I haven’t seen you like this since it was legal for you to drink.”

Randy regarded his gray-haired friend with stone silence.

But he was awake.

“Daddy…” Sarah piped up, tears were welling in her eyes and her boyfriend giving her a comforting hug was probably all that was keeping her from crying buckets, “What’s wrong? Why are you abusing yourself like this?”

Cedric and Roland looked to each other as everyone waited for the bear of a man to answer the question hanging in the air. If it weren’t for the two brothers, they’d have waited a long time.

“It’s Mom…” Cedric whispered.

“What?” Kip turned to the former Marine, “What did you say?”

“Mom disappeared after the Rikti War…” Roland answered, “Our house was destroyed. Remember? We couldn’t find hide nor hair of her…”

“Her and others,” Kip agreed, a pang of his own pain suddenly surfacing.

Everyone from their home community of Kingdale, New York, had lost close friends and family when a Rikti transport ship decimated a nearby military base and started making rounds on the civilian populace. Randy and Kip, among others, had proven themselves heroes in those harrowing weeks as they took down patrols and rescued as many people as they could. After the reconstruction of Kingdale, the two leaders of Grey’s Army, neither knowing of the other initially, moved to Paragon to help with the pacification and reconstruction.

In the ensuing months, Kip had found himself diseased and dying, and had forgotten much of the troubles that had led him here in his struggle to survive the Obsidian Blight. Randall, for a time, had found new friends that helped ease the pain, but when they suddenly seemed to slip away, he found himself alone with his memories. The others followed shortly after, each for their own reasons, each with their own troubles.

And Charlene Daring-Grey was the personification of all of it.

Zeke backed away from the large man as Randy seemed to be shaking with anger. Sheldon acted just in time and used his gravity manipulating gauntlets to hold the large man in place. He channeled a lot of his body heat into his gauntlets to keep the massive leader of Grey’s Army down, and the others could see it clearly taking its toll on the young man. Cedric bounded up and used the chains that originally made up his costume to tie his father down. Sheldon, shaking, released his device's grasp and Nester started applying nanites to restore his friend’s core temperature.

Then Randall Grey sobbed.

The group looked to their leader. His face wasn’t contorted into the sad grimace typical of crying, it was still just it’s normal perpetual scowl. But tears were trickling slowly from the dark sockets that held his eyes, and he was again shaking as his nerves finally gave in to the suffering.

“Let him go,” Kip ordered, “He’s not gonna hurt us.”

Cedric complied and his father leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. The whole group sat silently for a minute before Cedric spoke.

“We might have found her…”

All eyes turned to the Grey brothers. Roland nodded and pulled up his communicator. He plugged it into the table and typed a few buttons.

“Cedric and I have spent the past few weeks scouring the ‘Boomtown’ region of this city. Oddly enough, we got a lot of help from the local gang, the Outcasts, despite their animosity for heroes. They seemed to be willing to help us in this case because…”

A hologram of a Lost Rector suddenly shot up from the middle of the table…

“It seems we coincided with their war with the Lost in that region. The Council were involved a little, too, but nowhere near the extent the Outcasts and Lost were. There’s another group out there, and I don’t mean the Clockwork.”

“The Lost call them the Dregs,” Cedric explained, “And, no, you won’t find them on any villain group roster. They’re not a villain group… they’re desperate people trying to get back to their homes.”

“They’re armed with Rikti blasters, Council shotguns and assault rifles… Anything they can find discarded or left behind after a hero assault,” Roland flicked through images of bedraggled people; they were armed, but it seemed almost comical to see these people equipped in such ways, “But they lack the training to use such weapons. Since they arrived in Paragon City shortly after the war and found themselves lost in Baumton and surrounded by enemies, they’re numbers have dwindled as they’re either killed or ‘recruited’ by the Lost or the Council.”

“Oddly enough, the Outcasts have been helping some of them get to Steel Canyon,” Cedric turned to his friends, “But the price is always high…”

“They haven’t asked for Rikti tech, yet,” Roland growled through his teeth, “But they just might end up getting the guts to ask soon. Especially since... they’re dealing with the Lost in that region.”

“Our sources say Mom was helping the Dregs. In fact, a few people we rescued claim she was responsible for their escape from their Rikti captors… Along with this man…”

A hologram of a wide, bedraggled man in a tattered blue denim trench coat and pants with cloth wraps around his chest, hands, and feet materialized above the table. His face was held in a perpetual craze, teeth gnashing for a fight, eyes bugged out and glaring at everything and nothing. A mane of wild, dreadlocked hair complete with a scraggly beard finished the image of a man possessed.

“Martin Sanders…” Roland identified the homeless man, “Leader of the Dregs. He’s a mutant with a connection to the Nether realm. We met him once, and don’t let his appearance fool you, he’s hardly crazy. We’re not sure what’s driving him, though… So we can’t be sure to trust him, yet.”

“The rest of the Dregs are decent people, though,” Cedric explained, “Some of the missing people are from Kingdale, others from communities between home and here. Apparently, there was a bright explosion and the transport ship crashed a few miles outside the city. Charlene and Martin led the group to the nearest urban area… and now they’re stuck in Baumton…”

“We’ve covered that already,” Roland muttered, “Look… I’ll admit, Dad… You got worse when I said Mom might still be alive… I know you didn’t want to have your hopes raised just to have them dashed…”

Cedric and Sarah nodded as if to admit their own attempt to push their brother away for the same reason.

“…But now, Cedric and I... we’ve found positive evidence that Mom’s alive and out there. There’s still a chance we can save her… Bring her back and end this whole mess for us…”

Roland didn’t add that all this ‘hero-foolishness’ could finally end.

The group waited expectantly for Randall to speak. His eyes had opened fully during his sons’ presentation, and he now regarded his middle child more seriously than he ever had in his life.

“Where is she?” his rumbling voice finally cracked open his stony lips, but it was the only motion on his face.

“We’ll have to ask Arbiter Taylor about that,” Cedric growled.

“Who’s that?” Nester looked worriedly to the tanker.

“Well, I won’t say he’s less dangerous than the guy,” Cedric began, “but he definitely isn’t wielding the same power as Arbiter Sands in Faultline. What info we were able to dig up on the guy says he’s into special projects in Arachnos. He seems to be a friend of Sands, and is visiting the Arachnos base on the other side of the Overbrook Dam, though…”

“We believe there’s more to his visit than just ‘chatting with an old friend,'” Roland further explained, “The heroes this guy has been found attacking all share a similar trait…”

“What’s that?” Kip started turning his head to what worried him.

“They’re kheldians…” Zeke answered before Roland, “He’s an Arachnos Arbiter assigned to finding out what makes us tick.”

The group let the implications fo that settle in for a while. Then, Randall stood.

“This just got a Helluvalot more interesting,” Randy pulled up a map of the Faultline zone on the hologram, “This is enough to get me to sober up… Nester! Cedric! I want a plan of attack drawn up by tomorrow morning! We are storming that fortress and we are finding out what happened to my wife and the mother of my children!”

"It's about damn time," Kip spat as he hopped off the table.

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

Matt was standing by at the cliff’s edge when Kip landed next to him.

“What’s happenin, Brother?” McGinty swigged from his water bottled between sentences, “Been wonderin when you’d show up.”

“Babbage decided to thrash through Skyway City again,” Durj replied, “I helped out the mess of heroes that took it down… again…”

“Ah, those crazy Clockwork…” Mad Matt chuckled to himself and tossed his empty bottle into a receptacle, “Hokay… So! You’ll be wantin a report…”

“Uh huh.”

“Where’s everybody else?” Matt suddenly noticed it was just the two of them.

“Checkin with Freedom Corps to see if we all have the necessary clearance to pull off an op like this,” Kip started tapping his foot, “Come on, Mattock. Out with it.”

“Alright, man,” Matt knelt down and started drawing out a crude map of the region in the sand with his pinky finger, “You got a computer map, I know, but it doesn’t exactly describe the flavor of the Faultline, man… For instance, did you know there are tunnels through here?”

“No…” Kip’s eyes snapped back and forth as he searched his mind for information, “Well, I think Ced or my brother may have reported it, but I was probably busy dealing with Cobalt at the time…”

“Well, in any case, there’re tunnels here!” Matt made a small X over where the Arachnos tunnels and excavation sites were laid (on his map), “Mind you, this is from rumor… I… kind of lack the sec clearance to be snooping around over there… That and my lack of ‘travel powers…’”

“I still don’t get why you’re doing that,” Kip shook his head at the older man, “It just sounds so unwise…”

“Well, it hasn’t been so unwise when I kicked the living bejebus out of most of the goons that came my way because they thought I didn’t pack as much punch as I do!”

“Okay, okay… Jebus… Calm down, Matt. Just give me the rundown.”

“Well, you told me to tell you where to find Arachnos, and that’s it,” Matt tapped the ‘X.’

“Anywhere else?”

“Beyond the dam,” Matt shrugged, “Rumor has it that a whole base is on the other side. Sky Raiders have set up camp over there, too.”

“Good,” Kip looked out over the vast expanse of flooded landscape, “Good lord, this place is dirty…”

“Yeah…” Matt shook his head, “Floods aren’t clean… I almost feel bad for anybody or anything that was stuck down there when it happened.”

“I heard Ryat99 was down there,” Kip smirked, “It would explain why that big lug smelled like dead fish for a week.”

Cobalt Black strolled up behind them after that. A few passing heroes were still giving him askance looks, but Cobalt Black was now registered as a hero (probationary, but a hero nonetheless) on their scanning or scrying devices, so they didn’t attack him. He adjusted his sunglasses when he finally stood before his compatriots and gave a slight chuckle.

“I’m gonna miss this place.”

“Don’t expect it to miss you,” Kipland replied, “It’s nothing personal, just a statement of fact. Too many super-powered beings in one place for anybody to keep track of all of us… at least effectively…”

“Even still…” Cobalt chuckled again, “I’ll miss this place…”

“Miss it later,” Kip shrugged, “We got work to do. Matt, you may as well run a few missions. We’ll contact you when we’re all set up…”

“Gotcha.”

The Grey’s Army swordsman saluted them with his blade and walked off. A couple Lost stood in his way, but not for long. A few quick “sniks,” and they were being beamed to the Zig. Matt continued strolling leisurely to his next mission.

“That guy’s got spunk…” Cobalt grinned behind his mask, “That his ‘field plan?’”

“Yeah.”

“It’s good work,” Cobalt swiped the sand with his boot and gazed into the distance, “That where we’re going?”

“Yeah,” Kip’s voice buzzed into his ear, “Hurry, up, man. I’m not waiting for you.”

Cobalt and Kip bounded over the brown water for the dam. Not feeling like dealing with the grunts in the tunnels, they headed for the Freedom Corps station on the opposite cliff. Cobalt Black tsked and shook his head at the situation.

“I don’t understand why FC doesn’t just go in force and wipe out those spider goons…”

“Didn’t you say S.P.I.D.E.R. was a benevolent force in your world?”

“Yeah, but then, I’m a Maltan Freedom Fighter, not a Malta Group Agent, remember. Our two groups work together sometimes, SPIDER and the Resistance, but largely not. None of the resistance groups are in alliance in my world… Different circumstances than here. We don’t know who to trust…”

“I guess that makes sense…” Kip shrugged as he landed in front of the Freedom Corps outpost, “In answer to your question, we are the force. Freedom Corps has lots of low-level and unpowered members. What few heavies they do have are assigned to far more dangerous regions… like the Rogue Isles…”

“I see…” Cobalt Black waved to the red-clad FC agent who just glanced askance at them as they passed, “So Freedom Corps is intending for you guys to shoulder the responsibility?”

“Yeah,” Kip sighed as he looked out into the Arachnos towers that dominated the other side of the dam, “Well, time to get to work.”

They headed for the nearest batch of Arachnos agents. They didn’t have to look hard, the towers provided a veritably endless supply of troops to interrogate, but Kip wanted something more out of the way. They headed southeast to the Sky Raider camp and staked out a position on a rooftop, waiting for a patrol.

They passed the time discussing various differences between their worlds…

“So, what about Randall?”

“Grey Randall is we call him back home,” Cobalt replied, “He’s lost his mind and roars incoherently when he fights. It’s believed Marauder keeps him in a big iron box until he wants to drop him on suspected resistance groups…” the gunslinger got really quiet at this, “That’s… that’s how I lost my lady-love…”

“I’m sorry…” Kip intoned, “I know how you feel…”

“I know.”

“What about Matt?”

“Never seen him.”

“…” Kip looked to the horizon for a second, “Nester…”

“One of Antimatter’s students. Along with Dross, or Sheldon if that works for you.”

“What does Praetorian Nester call himself?”

“Jrud Retsen,” Cobalt Black lowered his mask to spit on the ground, “Frickin moron… Before becoming a damn android, he was actually an imaginative sort. Antimatter and Neuron corrupted them… when the two had a schism between them, Dross and Jrud sided with Anti. Dross is still pretty much the same as your Sheldon, but Jrud is a hideous machine, spitting radiation everywhere he violates. I think Antimatter’s using him as a vent… but I can’t prove anything.”

“You don’t seem too shaken up about it,” Kip almost hissed.

“My brother is dead,” Cobalt sighed, “I lost him when he became the twisted freak that perverts his name… I envy you for that, Kip. Your brother’s still here. Your dad, too.”

“Practically,” Kip hesitated a moment, “They’re your family, too, man. It’s… It’s like we’re twins…”

“Don’t be naïve,” Cobalt laid back on the roof, “But… Thanks.”

“Stubborn… Wait…”

Kipland spied a group of Arachnos troops on patrol. They and the Sky Raiders had been contesting the territory since the flooding… Maybe even before that. Kip knew they’d send a group to inspect the Sky Raider camp for weaknesses and had chosen this site as one of the likely insertion points. When the troops strolled within range, he pounced.

The Night Widow leading them went down first. Kipland dove on her with a vicious knee to the head, crushing her helmet and knocking her out cold. The next troopers never got a chance to see what was happening as Kip dove from her shoulders and crashed into the midst of them. A legsweep later and they were writhing on the ground, clutching their damaged knees. Cobalt then jumped down and started stomping through body armor, knocking the offending troopers out cold with the damage done to their solar plexuses. Kip stopped him on the last one, however.

“You!” he hissed as he yanked off the Arachnos trooper’s armor, “You’re going to tell me what I want to know! And don’t give me that crap about ‘just being a footsoldier…’ I know you goners hear rumors, and I want you spillin all of it!”

“What the… You’re crazy! I’ll never talk!”

“He’s not gonna talk, Kip,” Cobalt snickered, “Arachnos’ll send someone to get him… We’re probably better off getting this info from a base raid or something…”

“No, Cobie… I’m telling you this’ll work…” Kip grinned mischievously at his prisoner, “You see, I happen to know a few methods of torture that leave no lasting damage, physically or psychologically! But you'll tell me what I want to know! Oh, yes you will!”

“Torture?” the other two were incredulous.

“Yes,” Kipland slapped his hands onto the trooper’s chest, gripped hard, then twisted his hands around, “Nipple twister!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

The trooper lay there screaming as Kip drilled him for information…

“Tell me what I want to know! Why you holdin out on me, man!? I want to know where that gooner is! Start talking!”

“Oh-My-God!” along with incoherent screams and tears was all he got in reply.

“Dude!” Cobalt interrupted him, “You haven’t asked anything about Taylor…”

Kipland released the trooper from the debilitating grip for a few seconds and regarded the situation.

“You know, I think you’re right…”

“Uh-unh… ow-oooh…” the trooper continued in this manner for a few seconds before Kip got sick of it and twisted hard again, prompting more screaming.

“Well!? You know what I’m looking for now, don’t ya!?”

“Hey, hey, HEY!” a voice called behind them.

Cobalt stomped on a pistol lying on the ground and snatched it out of the air when it popped up. He then turned it on the intruder and found a Sky Raider captain staring down the barrel of his gun.

“By the bullet in the barrel of the gun…” he intoned at the bandit, “'Bout time I had me some fun…”

“Woah! Hey… I’m not here to fight…”

Kip turned to him, twisting his hands again as he did so, “Well, I guess this just isn’t your [censored] night, is it?”

“Hey! Calm down! You got that guy screaming, you’re about to bring the whole camp down on you. We just ran a few role-calls, so we know we’re not missing anybody as of this afternoon… I was sent to see what’s going on…”

“We’re getting information,” Cobalt replied, “Go tell your friends they’ve got nothing to fear from us… yet…”

“Well, you’re not gonna get anything out of him like that!” the officer chastised them, “Good lord, you act like you’ve never tortured someone before…”

“I’m applying the high-school method,” Kip grinned, “As much pain as promptly as possible to get what you need.”

“Huh…” The officer chuckled, “High school method… I’ll have to remember that for my blog… What d’you want to know?”

“Hm…” Cobalt pulled the pistol away, “Intriguing. How would you know anything about Arachnos?”

“Sometimes information’s more valuable than commodities,” the lieutenant sat down on a nearby rock, “And since you’re looking to cause Arachnos some trouble, I’ll offer you a reasonably cheap price.”

“Oh God, please take his deal…” the trooper whined, “I never signed up for anything like this… Who tortures like this!?”

Kip swatted him in the face and tagged his forehead. He didn’t know if a police drone would show up in this region of the Faultline, but he was on to bigger and better things at this point.

“We’re looking for information on Arbiter Taylor…” Cobalt Black inquired the officer, “You wouldn’t happen to know anything, would you?”

“Hm…” the officer tapped his helmet and sat there for a second, “Give me a moment, I’m running a search… Arbiter Taylor… We don’t seem to have much on… Oh… Wait! Cool, we got something. And I think it might be useful… Does an old oil derrick sound good to you?”

“Where?” Kip demanded.

“Price first,” the officer replied, “Then I’ll give you the coordinates.”

“What’re you asking for?” Cobalt tapped his foot impatiently.

“Just those weapons,” the officer replied, “Like I said, reasonably cheap, because I want to hurt Arachnos as bad as you heroes do.”

“Interesting,” Cobalt popped the clip out of the pistol he wielded, then tossed it to the Sky Raider, “Here you go, they’re yours. Now, give me the coordinates.”

The bandit tapped a few buttons on his wrist-pad and their communicators started beeping. When they looked down, they saw they ahd the coordinates to what should have been an abandoned oil derrick between the Rogue Isles and Paragon City. It was closer to Paragon, however…

“Looks like we’ve got our destination…” Cobalt grinned to Kip (not that anybody could see him grin, “What do we do with this guy?”

“Honor the deal,” Kip shrugged, “We’re too high-level for wailing on him to mean anything for us. Besides, let the fresher heroes play!”

“What fresher heroes?” the captain asked as he turned to where Kip pointed.

He was promptly rewarded with two fists to his face and a gout of fire blasting him between the cross-dimensional twins. The heroes assaulting him glared at the Kips…

“You made a deal with him?” the blaster screeched.

“That ain’t cool, man!” the tanker growled.

“What kinds of heroes are you?” the scrapper rasped.

“The kind you shouldn’t be yelling at,” Cobalt barked back, “We distracted him long enough for you to get that perfect setup. And in the process, we got information out of him. Now get out there and put the hurt on more of these idiots. Lord knows they deserve it…”

The heroes snapped to and bounded away. Kip started laughing.

“Jebus, man. You sure put the fear into those noobs…”

“Don’t call them that,” Cobalt replied, “I hate that term…”

“Okay, okay…” Kip chuckled, “Alright… Let’s rent a boat from one of the yards down at Independence Port and scope this place out. And, hey! Captain, if this isn’t legit, we’re coming back here.”

“Oog…” was the bandit’s only reply.

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

“Well, it looks like an abandoned oil rig, smells like an abandoned oil rig and sounds like an abandoned oil rig… So it MUST be a clandestine terrorist cell…”

Cedric was glum because the two Durj “twins” had him rowing the rickety little fishing boat out across the ocean. It had a motor, but they had to cut it when they got within typical sonar range. The two boys pointed out how he needed the exercise anyway, since he was a mid-range tanker…

“You guys are rowing back,” the eldest Grey son (no frickin pun intended) was still rubbing his shoulders from the ordeal, “Or I’m hurling you both over the edge, kicking on the motor, and hightailing it outta here!”

“You’d have to,” Cobalt Black chuckled, “If it is an Arachnos base, they’ve likely got missile launchers and they’ll blast you right out of the water.”

“Not before they shoot you…”

“They’d use torpedoes on us,” Kipland peered through the binoculars they had acquired from the DATA office in Galaxy City, “Freeing up the missiles for you…”

“Dang,” Cedric pulled up a fishing pole and cast out his line.

Cobalt joined him, and their little craft looked to be nothing more than a tiny sport fishing vessel.

“We’re gonna get caught,” Cobalt chided, “Nobody fishes this far out… Not in a boat like this.”

“So we got off course,” Kip replied, “In a moment, our GPS will tell us where we are and we leave. We gotta hope we see something… Oh-oh! Ope! There we go!”

He handed the binoculars to Cedric, who peered through to see a pair of Arachnos troops walking around in the old derrick’s under-scaffolding. They seemed to just be conversing…

“Cigarettes don’t just cause cancer,” Kip took an oar and tapped Cobalt’s shoulder, “They also reveal hidden bases when you’re dumb enough to go outside for your nasty little habit.”

“I thought you didn’t care about smoking,” Cedric packed away the binoculars and reeled back in his line.

“I don’t,” Kip chuckled, “I just thought it was funny. Cobalt, what the Hell, man? We know they’re here, let’s get a move on!”

“I think I got something…” Cobalt replied.

They peered over the edge and took a collective gasp.

“Oh!” Cedric finally yelped, “Um, hi, Lusca… Kip, tell Praetorian Kip to let go of Praetorian Kip’s fishing pole! Let the giant octopus have the pole, Praetorian Kip!”

“Here you go!” Cobalt Black yelped as he tossed the fishing rod into the water and snatched up his oar, “Grey! Kick that motor into high gear and get us the Hell out of here!”

“I’m trying! I’m trying!” Cedric pulled and yanked on the motor’s cord, and finally started swatting and kicking it.

The engine finally sputtered to life, and the trio gave a cheer of success. Unfortunately, they failed to notice the four tentacles rising up around them, signaling they were far too late.

“AAAAAAAAAUGH!” they screamed as they were pulled under and swallowed by the mammoth monster.

A half hour later, Independence Port was surprised to have the Lusca visiting yet again. Every couple of days, the giant octopus would show up and raise havoc for any shipping being conducted that day, so any heroes passing through were strongly encouraged to keep an eye out for the troublesome beast. This day was no different, as a small army of mid-20 Security Level heroes led by a Security Level 50 Tanker raided and ravaged the beast. By this time, the art of wearing the creature down had become like clockwork, and the heroes were well-prepared for most of its attacks. When they wore down all of its arms and started working over the head, however, a new trick was introduced that day…

“Why’s its mouth pointed at us?” a healing defender shouted over the commotion.

Suddenly, the giant monster’s lunch was regurgitated at the assaulting army and the three heroes were launched, screaming, into the air. They barely passed by a couple heroes and caused no damage, but landing on the nearby sandbar just outside the roadway entrance leading to Brickstown was exceptionally unpleasant. The thick black ink and saltwater-diluted gastric juices coating them stuck the sand to their bodies, and the loud “thump” they made as they hit the dirt didn’t tickle.

“Oh man, that sucked!” Cedric gasped as he finally regained his breath, “Are they laughing at us?”

They heard not just the cacophony of heroes getting hoarse about their plight, but their communicators were chirping to the broadcast messages describing the event and the general reaction from anyone who didn’t see it.

“Yeah,” Kip groaned, “They’re laughing at us.”

“Aw, geez…” Cedric picked himself up and glared at the other heroes, “Oh yeah, laugh it up! Let’s all just chuckle and joke about the idiot heroes who…” he suddenly turned to Kip and Cobalt, “Wait… Where’s the boat?”

He was answered suddenly as the medium sized aluminum and steel vessel landed bottom-up on his head, slamming him into the ground again. Again, a cacophony of hero laughter followed.

“Okay,” Cedric’s groaning echoed metallically from within the boat, “Yeah, that was funny… Oog…”

The trio picked themselves up and watched as the Lusca was again sunk beneath the waters of Independence Port. It would be back, and it would be broken again, just to replenish its strength and return its vicious cycle.

“I kind of wish we got some payback on that,” Cobalt Black muttered as they carried the boat back to the shipping yard they got it from.

“Well, take pleasure in the fact we may have given it severe indigestion,” Cedric grimaced.

“Does that work for you?” Kip asked as he pushed a Family Button Man out of the way, “Hey! Go find a real job, nimrod.”

“Screw you’s,” the Button Man snapped back, “I ain’t done nothing.”

“Scram!” Cobalt barked, causing the tough guy attitude to drop in shock.

“I-whuh… Huh? But you were just… What the?”

The trio of heroes shook their heads and walked on to the warehouse.

“Good lord!” the foreman shouted at them, “What the Hell happened to you guys?”

“Hero-life” Cedric replied, “The good news is, I think Lusca’s digestive juices cleaned this baby off better than anything you’ve got.”

“The bad news is it promptly coated the whole thing in ink as it spat us back out,” Kip handed over the receipt, “Thanks for renting to us, by the way.”

The foreman glared at them for a few moments, then, grumbling and shaking his head, got the paperwork for them to sign. Freedom Corps would cover the costs of refurbishing the craft, but the boys were certain the cost would find its way back to Grey’s Army somehow.

Kip pulled out his communicator and dialed in Randall Grey.

“Okay, Boss. Good news. Looks like we’ve found em. I’m transmitting the coordinates…”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, here’s what we know about the base…” Cedric pulled up the map of the ocean around the abandoned derrick and a wire-frame image of the derrick itself. They had to pull some strings with Freedom Corps, but they were able to raid the archives for the map of the derrick and obtain the satellite images from the weather station.

“It’s one of the typical offshore drilling rigs typically known as an oil derrick. Hexxon Oil used it as a test-base in the mid-80s and found nothing useful below it, or at least, not enough to be worth the effort an offshore drilling station usually requires. Apparently, they didn’t feel like demolishing it, however, and there it remains to this day…”

Cedric zoomed in on the rig and the wire frame map image cycled through various images to demonstrate the surface, interior and original mapping of the structure.

“This was the original map… Pretty much only the outside will remain the same as before…”

“But we’re not sure about that,” Kip interrupted, “Arachnos techs could’ve converted and retrofitted much of the derrick’s surface with pop-up turrets and the like…”

“The interior,” Cedric pressed, “Will likely be vastly different. Anybody who’s seen the interior of an Arachnos base in Bloody Bay or Siren’s Call will know what to expect…”

“Probably not that harsh,” Randall grumbled, “They probably haven’t had much opportunity to truly retrofit the facility… Especially since hardly anybody knew about the Kheldians until the past few years…”

“This is true,” Cedric hit a few buttons and maneuvered the wire-frame map to another location, this one colored red as opposed to the normal white, “There’s something I want to direct your attention to…”

The group stared for a few moments. Without the benefit of details, the best most of them knew was that the blue space was just different, but it was difficult to determine how. Sheldon Wallace finally came up with the answer.

“It’s a boat,” he intoned, “An escape craft.”

“Bingo,” Cedric rotated and spun the image so they could view it from the side, “It’s built to look like the rest of the derrick, but it’s the only part that doesn’t match the original construction blueprints superficially. If it didn’t look like some weird extension piece, we would’ve spotted it before… the unpleasantness…”

“What’s it like inside Lusca’s belly, anyway?” Matt chortled at his friend.

“Dark and smells of fish… dead fish…” Cedric grimaced, “I was lucky that stuff washed off quickly, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to use that outfit again. Shel, you might have to build me a new suit of armor…”

“You wash what you’ve got,” Sheldon replied, “and don’t you dare tell me to waste precious resources because you can’t handle a little giant octopus fight.”

“Hey, hey!” Randy shouted over them, “We’re getting off track here… We know the situation. Let’s work out a plan of attack…”

“Okay…” Cobalt took the communicator from Cedric and plugged in some commands, prompting the map to maneuver around again, this time stopping at a small beach just outside the Salamanca boundary wall, “Here’s where we start…”

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

“King’s Bishop to Queen’s Bishop Four…”

Broken from his reverie, Taylor glanced back to the radio speaker.

“What?”

“King’s Bishop, to Queen’s Bishop Four…” came the reply.

“Uh huh…” he maneuvered the black marble piece of his opponent on his set and glanced at the board.

“I’ve got you now.”

“Shut up, Sands,” Arbiter Taylor snapped, “You know my heart’s not in this…”

“I never figured your weakness to be giddiness…” came the snide reply.

“It’s everybody’s weakness,” Taylor grinned, “Good thing I only have to worry about losing a game.”

“All games are important, old friend.”

“Only in fiction, and I’m not some super-genius twelve-year-old.”

They chuckled and Taylor made a move.

“What the… That’s not even logical! What are you aiming at, Taylor?”

“Just trying something new instead of something routine.”

“I figured you’ve had enough of new things…”

“Not nearly enough. In a couple days, I set sail for Grandville with my cargo and possibly get a promotion. Maybe then I’ll get some more leg-room in my quarters…”

“I wish I could go to Grandville…”

“I know you’re tired, buddy,” Arbiter Taylor started peeling an apple as he glanced at the headlines on the news. Plenty of word on the great many successes of the heroes of Paragon City, and virtually nothing on their losses. He shook his head at it. Propaganda was propaganda as far as he was concerned, and it did nothing but blind people to the inadequacies of their government. At least, with Arachnos, he knew where he stood…

“It’s just getting so tedious! I find a working PCM, and some hero or group of idiots shows up to blow the whole deal! I’m so close to getting this all over with…”

“Calm down, man, calm down… Ope, here’s another clip of footage of you being carted off to the Zig… Jeez, this morning? What, do they just toss you out a window or something?”

“Yeah, it really hurts…” Arbiter Sands paused for a moment, “I have a system, damn it, and it’s a really good one.”

“If I ever end up in there, you better fill me in during one of your hour-long trips…”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

They chuckled and played a few more moves. Suddenly, Arbiter Taylor’s board shook violently with an explosion somewhere else in the derrick. He cursed loudly as the pieces were strewn across his office.

“Hahahaha…” Arbiter Sands called through the radio, “Wait… what’s going on over there?”

“Oh, I gotta find a way to alter our turrets… That’s the problem with Arachnos defenses… They’re so oversensitive! A couple heroes passed by the other day, and it shot at them. Then, Lusca comes by, and I had to shut the whole damn place down to keep them from launching torpedoes into its butt…”

“So what’re you saying?”

“I’m leaving none too soon,” Taylor started resetting the board, “Where were we?”

Arbiter Sands gave him a series of coordinates and Taylor mechanically placed his pieces accordingly. When all was said and done, he grimaced.

“Very funny, [censored],” Arbiter Taylor glared at the board that now had Sands’s king in a far corner while Taylor’s lone King was hopelessly surrounded.

“My move, too” Sands laughed.

Suddenly, Arbiter Taylor’s door burst open and a pair of guards rushed in. He stood up and glared at them.

“What are you doing? Can’t you see we’re under attack? Get out there and repel those meddling heroes! The less people know what this facility is really for, the better!”

“Uh… Sir, you might want to turn on your personal security monitor…”

Taylor arched an eyebrow at the trooper, but did as suggested. As the images cycled through various scenes of fighting and warring across the Derrick’s underbelly, he grew particularly concerned.

“This is disheartening…” Arbiter Taylor grumbled.

Finally, the security image stopped on an ugly old man’s face. He had long brown hair and a thick beard to match. Deep sunken eyes glared hatefully through the screen at Taylor and he took an involuntary step backward. The ugly face took a deep breath (despite numerous people shooting at him and the rounds bouncing off his body) and suddenly shouted into the camera…

“TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—“

Arbiter Taylor shut off the monitor and waited a couple seconds before turning it on again.

“LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—“

He repeated his previous action.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—“

He shuddered when the monitor was off this time…

“RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrr… I’m coming for YOU! You hear me!? I’m coming for you!”

“He shouldn’t know I’m here,” he turned to his guards, “Maybe this isn’t personal…”

The monitor shouted again, “This is SO personal!”

Taylor pulled a pistol and shot through the monitor, “Okay, so it’s personal. I gotta get out of here. Cover my escape.”

“Yes sir,” the guards bowed and scrambled out of the room.

“Wow, that sucks, man,” Arbiter Sands called to his friend, “If I see you in the Zig, I’ll be sure to get you out of there.”

“Can it,” Taylor pulled a panel open on his wall and dragged out the two Arachnos Drones and hit their activations witches, “I’m getting out of here, I’m delivering my cargo, and I’m getting promoted. Then, no more of these [censored] assignments!”

“Good luck, brother,” Arbiter Sands sounded genuine, “Among a whole bunch of people who tend to be backstabbers, liars, cheats and thieves, you’re a gentleman and a scholar.”

“And you’re still an [censored]. I’ll catch you on the flipside.”

Outside, the situation was grim for Arachnos. The total force of Grey’s Army had shown up for this. Every turret was being smashed to bits by Kipland Durj. His father, Zeke, and his brother, Nester, were teamed up with Cedric Grey and waging battle with the Arachnos troops on the northern catwalks. Cedric took the brunt of the assault while Zeke fired dark energy over his shoulder and Nester kept healing whatever wounds they received. On the southern portion of the derrick’s platform, Sarah Grey, Sheldon Wallace and his two combat androids, Ryat66 and Ryat99, waged another small war. Ryat66 was currently on its bigger counterpart’s shoulders and firing a nearly limitless stream of energy bolts into the masses of Arachnos troopers in their way. On a speedboat arcing to the east, Roland Grey, Joe Durnan, and Cobalt Black (armed with a sniper rifle) worked support and tactics for the whole crew. The eastern catwalk was dominated by Randall Grey, now fully decked out in granite and batting troopers this way and that into the ocean below.

Cedric took a hail of blaster fire from a Blasterbot and angrily smashed it’s right side blaster off. He then kicked it over the side of the catwalk and turned to Zeke.

“I think this is going well. I think we got em!”

A pop-up turret lowered from the ceiling and fired a burst into Cedric’s chest. Even though it was aiming for his head, it the rounds were inextricably dragged to their mark on the young hero’s armor. He turned in time to see Zeke and Nester’s eyebeams melting the inconvenient weapon.

“Aw…”

Another group of soldiers burst out of a door on the other end of the catwalk and Cedric rushed forward, whooping all the way. He shoulder tackled the first two he came in contact with, knocking them over the edge and started doing battle with the Longfang in charge of them. His compatriots charged after him, Nester broadcasting his defensive matrix and hitting Cedric with a special nanite and microbial enhancement compound that increased his resilience and damage output.

“This is better than Blue Dawg!” Cedric laughed as his eyes bore an enthusiastic gleam.

On the top, things were fairing much better. Kip had joined with Sarah and her crew, and they were smashing through doors and clearing the carious rooms. A trio of Fortunatas banded together to give them trouble, but Sheldon hit his group with kinetic boosters and Sarah felt the rush of adrenaline even affecting her psychic powers. The Fortunatas were soundly crushed (one bounced repeatedly on the deck, one lifted and just squeezed unconscious, and the last literally had her helmet crushed under Kip’s foot), and the group made their way downstairs.

On the Eastern catwalk, Randall Grey ruled. Bullets bounced harmlessly from the peculiar armor that shielded him and he took his time casually tossing the soldiers out of his way. Eventually, he picked a trooper up and hurled him into his compatriots, the last of which dominoed into the elevator button behind him.

The door opened with a “ding” and Randall Grey found himself glaring at Arbiter Taylor. He wore the familiar white spider-themed armor, complete even with the ridiculous helmet. All that was visible of his face, his mouth, revealed nothing of his concern at staring at the huge tanker. He typed into a wristpad and two drones floated through the doorway. He waved, pressed a button on the elevator and the doors closed. Randy roared with rage and stormed forward, this time with Arachnos troops just leaping out of his way. The drones, however, reacted far differently. They simply turned to the rails, and opened fire.

“Holy crap!” Roland shouted as he saw his father plummet to the ocean, “the catwalk just dropped out from underneath him! Cedric! Cedric, I think the ship is moving!”

On the north side of the derrick, the structure they were certain was an escape craft proved them right. It must have been nuclear powered (or whatever power source Arachnos used these days…) because no smokestacks or steampipes emitted anything. The ship pulled away from the legs and the scrap used to mask its presence was torn off. It looked more like an Arachnos vessel now, all sleek and black, but it was still a cargo ship.

Arbiter Taylor marched confidently across the deck, shotgun in hand and hummed happily to himself. He had succeeded. He was getting away with his cargo, and the heroes were busy with the troops he had to leave behind. He made a mental note to arrange an escape for them. He might even be able to pick up Sands and get him some vacation time.

There was an audible “thunk” behind him and he turned cautiously. An axe lay embedded in the deck, glowing slightly. There was a chain connected to it, and Taylor looked up to see Cedric Grey… Wait? Did he actually think he could stop the ship?

“Ced,” Nester intoned, “You can’t stop that ship by yourself. You may as well…”

Cedric placed his feet on the rail and leaned back, steadying himself with his free hand on the other rail. Zeke shook his head sadly and exploded into his “Squiddy” form.

“Nester, I’m going to see if I can find Randy. Try to keep Ced alive when his mess starts…”

“Will do…”

“Oh come on guys,” Cedric chuckled, “Have a little fa-yaa-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAITH!”

Cedric was dragged bodily from the catwalk and plummeted a couple hundred feet into the cold water below, screaming all the way. Arbiter Taylor shook his head grimly as he turned and walked away.

“Stupid hero…”

A “ping” caught his attention this time and he turned to the source of the noise. A smoking hole was in the bulkhead and he turned to the water to see Joe’s speedboat racing for his ship. He raised his hands to the sky as if to say “What next?” before aiming his shotgun at the approaching vessel. He noticed that what appeared to be a Malta Group Gunslinger was currently aiming a rifle at him.

“I must be wasted,” he chuckled, “Because it looks like that gunslinger’s mad at me…”

Cobalt Black and Arbiter Taylor each pulled their triggers at the same time. The rifle round bounced off Taylor’s thigh plate, but it still knocked him off his feet. He clutched at his leg with a yelp and started kicking involuntarily. His explosive round however, didn’t have to be nearly as precise as the hero’s rifle shot, and blew a neat little hole into the bow, exploding inward and destroying the steerage. There was a sickening crunch, and an explosion as the smaller craft crashed harmlessly against the armored hull.

“Jebus!” Arbiter Taylor groaned, “This just isn’t my [censored] day! What did I ever do to these heroes to get them so [censored]?”

He stood and half-limped, half-hopped to the door and worked his way downstairs. He passed by empty crates and boxes, all empty of the equipment they had brought to convert the old derrick.

“I’m gonna catch Hell for losing all that equipment… Ah well, it’s no more than Freedom Corps gets from a daily raid of Bloody Bay…”

He made his way to the back and found his cargo, still safely restrained.

“You must think I’m a monster,” he said to her, “But I apologize for your discomfort. Does it surprise you? That a monster can apologize?”

She didn’t reply, just struggled against her restraints. Not that she could’ve said anything. Taylor’s men had grown weary of her loud, angry voice, and had a Hell of a time putting a gag around her mouth. One of them nearly lost a finger because of her vicious biting.

“Well, it’s all over now. I finally have captured a Kheldian, and I’m bringing you home to Lord Recluse. I may finally break free of this obscurity that’s been plaguing me all these years. I might just get to work with the Chosen…”

A pinpoint of light suddenly burst into the poorly lit chamber, and Arbiter Taylor turned to see the source.

“Odd…” he said as he saw the new hole in the ceiling, “I wonder if…”

He heard a slow, methodical thumping sound. There were gunshots as the skeleton security force tried to keep this intruder away. He could hear his men failing miserably.

“Stay here…” he grumbled as he limped (a little easier than before) back to the exit hatch.

When he got topside, he saw Cedric Grey cleaning the last bits of weeds and fish out of his armor, which was still humming with whatever bizarre energy protected him. He drew his shotgun and blasted the young man. Cedric turned to him and blinked.

“So…” he casually swung his axe at his side like a pendulum, “You think I’m going to just let you float off with—“

The tanker found himself interrupted by another shotgun blast.

“Just die, already!” Taylor shouted at him, “Can’t you see I’ve already won!”

Cedric smiled broadly, “That’s not how it looks from my end, Arbiter. From my end, it looks to be the beginning of your end…”

Cedric’s axe deflected another blast, this one an explosive that skirted to the side and exploded over the water. He then lunged forward and slammed the weapon into Taylor’s breastplate. Again, the Arbiter fired, point blank into Cedric’s gut. The young hero felt it, and grunted with pain. Taylor also took advantage of the weight displacement, snatched Cedric’s shoulder plate, rolled backward and planted a boot into his gut, flipping him overhead. He stood up and prepared to put a shotgun blast into the hero’s head…

“Too bad there’s no medical transport matrix out here, huh?” he almost chuckled.

A boot slammed into his wrist from behind and he dropped his weapon. It was then kicked again, like a footbag, and rattled down the deck past Cedric Grey. Taylor whirled around with a hard forearm smash to Kipland Durj’s temple, but some unseen force stopped the attack. He barely had a moment to wonder why the scrapper was there before Kipland unleashed a flurry of punches into his chest.

Taylor was no stranger to hand-to-hand combat either, and the two danced and flitted across the deck, back and forth and back again. He never noticed Cobalt Black helping Joe Durnan and Roland Grey, quite haggard from their ordeal on the speedboat, onto the stern and down the starboard side trying to find the hostage. Kip fell to a kick to the chest, but before the fight could resume, Cobalt Black was there, two pistols in hand and pumping rounds into Arbiter Taylor’s armor. When the pistols were dry, he rolled the rifle off his back and fired a round that landed square in the solar plexus. Arbiter Taylor was sent sprawling across the deck and skidded a few more feet until he was next to his shotgun. He didn’t go for it, however.

The armor sleeves on his forearms popped off and a pair of twin apparatuses, each bearing a pair of Arachnos-style hold-out pistols, sprang the weapons into his hands. Laughing, Taylor emptied the guns into Cobalt Black, each round exploding with various elemental effects like fire, ice and lightning. The bullets impacted on the armor plates in Cobalt’s uniform, but he went down nonetheless.

Taylor quickly reloaded his pistols and snatched up his shotgun, snapping it into the clip on his right shoulder blade. Too late, he noticed Cedric wasn’t where he’d left him, neither was Kip. Tossing his left pistol into his right hand with it’s twin, he leapt over the rail and snagged it with his free hand. An axe and Kip’s foot landed where he had been standing, the scrapper cursing as he stubbed his toe against the magic weapon. Taylor then kicked off the hull of the ship, flipped back over the rail again, slapped his extra pistol back into his left hand in mid-flight and fired a burst into Durj’s chest. Whatever was stopping anything from hitting the kid had its limits, and he winced in pain before passing out.

However, Taylor wasn’t expecting Cedric to come flying through the air, being dragged by the chain retractor on his wristguard, to kick him in the gut and send him gasping to the ground. The tanker then yanked his weapon from the deck and, with a whoop, brought the flat of the blade down on Taylor’s helmet. He repeated as necessary until Taylor stopped struggling, but was clearly groaning.

"And that's what happens when you mess with my mama!"

“Finally,” Kipland croaked, “Remind me not to try that again for a couple years.”

“You’re talking to the wrong guy,” Cedric laughed, “Come on, get up… Get up!”

He helped his buddy to stand and Kipland gave his double from Praetorian Earth a nudging kick to see if he was okay.

“Ugh…” Cobalt Black groaned, “just leave me here for a sec. I popped one of those greens a second ago… I’ll be fine.”

Cedric gave the two a salute and bounded for the hatch leading tot eh ship’s interior. Inside, he yelled hysterically.

“Ma! MAAAAAAAAH!”

“Ced!” Roland was suddenly there, hands on his brother’s shoulders. Cedric towered over his younger brother, yet the heavy guy was able to hold him back.

“You need to brace yourself…”

“It’s not Ma, is it?” Cedric’s eyes suddenly lost focus, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

Roland’s tear filled eyes caught his attention again and his friendly smile told Ced he was wrong. Daring to hope, he started to move past his brother.

“Then…” he gasped, “What’s wrong…”

“Not wrong,” Roland’s deep voice rumbled slightly, “Just… Well, you’ll see…”

When they got to Joe and the ship’s unwilling passenger, he could see. Charlene Daring-Grey, the mother of the Grey brothers and their sister, the wife of Randall Grey, was rubbing her wrists and nodding to Joe’s assurances that they were about to get her out of there. Cedric stepped into the light and stared gape-mouthed.

“Ma?”

“Cedric!” she shouted and her tiny body leapt up and gave him a strong hug around his shoulders, “Oh, my boy, look at you!”

“Ma!” Cedric held her up (something he’d been able to do since he was sixteen) and looked her over, “Your hair… your face… What happened?”

She was twenty years younger than when they last saw her. She even had a slight glow about her and a twinkling in her eyes. Small tendrils of energy wafted from them, and she smiled.

“It’s a long story, son,” she replied as a tear rolled down her cheek, “Let’s go home and I’ll tell you all about it.”

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

“Where were Cory and Matt in all of this?”

Cedric rubbed his sore shoulders and leaned back in his chair. It had been a day since the fight on the abandoned derrick, and he had figured in the time since the excitement that he’d probably be in less pain if the two magic-based heroes had been available.

“I was busy dealing with the sorceress that invaded Randy’s apartment,” Cory replied cheerfully, “How do you think Freedom Corps knew where to find you? It’s not like anybody tried to inform them of the situation…”

“Hey,” Cedric shrugged nonchalantly, “Some things… Some things are just better handled personally, you know?”

“Yes, I do…”

“And you Matt?”

“I still had work to do in Faultline,” Mat replied calmly, “Actually, I was all over the place that day. Steel Canyon, Skyway… It was a busy day for me.”

“None of that matters,” Randy boomed happily over the heroes under his command, “The good news is, we rescued Charlene… And… well… I can’t really say how good that makes me feel…”

“It’s okay, Randy,” Charlene hugged her husband, “I can imagine what this must have been like for all of you…”

“So, Ma…” Cedric arched an eyebrow at her, “You… you look younger than me now… How is that possible?”

“Well, seeing Zeke, I’m certain you’re all aware of the Kheldians?”

“Oh yeah,” Kip replied, “Some of us far more intimately than we should be…”

Charlene noticed the tendrils at the corners of the young scrapper’s eyes and nodded.

“Well… I’m one of them… I have been since the War…”

“How is that possible?” Sheldon asked, puzzlement clearly evident on his normally placid face, “Most heroes haven’t even heard of Kheldians until years after the war…”

“A lot of us were in hiding after the war…” Charlene shrugged, “Some for reasons of their own… Me… I had mine…”

“The Dregs?” Cedric asked.

“When the Rikti snatched me up, I found I was one of a great many captives,” Charlene shuddered, “I don’t know what those alien bastards were thinking, but they definitely had already started working at converting the human population… into them.”

Randy and Kip nodded sagely as the others stared in wide-eyed horror.

“You mean…” Cedric almost choked, “The Lost are…”

“Pre-Rikti,” Charlene finished, “Win or lose, the Rikti had plans in motion…”

“You don’t need to worry too much about it,” Kip said at the back of the room, “The Rikti have their own problems, now. There’s a great deal of in-fighting on their end. It’s slowing them down really nicely…”

“Still,” Charlene remained grim, “There’s a reason the Dregs are still stuck in Boomtown…”

“The Lost won’t let them leave…” Randy sat in his chair and rested his cheek in his hand, “How did you guys end up there, anyway?”

“I remember being in the ship… They had me locked into some weird table… Like out of some cliché movie… Then there was this voice in my head… A woman’s voice… She promised me the power to be able to save everybody on the ship, I just had to agree to help her… I agreed and the next thing I knew, light was exploding from my eyes, my mouth, my fingertips… It was insane… Everywhere I looked, holes were ripped into the hull of the transport, and the Rikti scrambled like mad to stop me…”

“Wow,” Zeke scratched the back of his head, “Makes me wish I had joined up with my nictus before the fight I got into…”

“Well, it didn’t last forever,” Charlene continued, “One of them got a lucky shot off and knocked me out cold. As I struggled to wake, I saw this disheveled looking man standing over me. At first, I thought I was in trouble until I saw him fighting off the Rikti trying to kill me. He had a strange black cloud around him… and it seemed that as the Rikti got closer, they started getting sick… Like being near Martin was killing them…”

“Yeah, we met him!” Cedric shouted, “The guy’s a mutant, but not like the Lost… He was one before the Rikti attacked…”

“Yeah… If it weren’t for him, I never would’ve made it,” Charlene looked sadly at the table, “None of us would have… In any case, before we knew it, there was an alarm, and the ship started falling. A lot of the Rikti just vanished, and when the vehicle crashed, we were in Baumton.”

“Why didn’t you try to escape when the War Walls were being put up?” Randy grumbled.

“We were so disoriented… we thought humanity had failed. Look at Baumton, Randy! You tell me it doesn’t look like a dystopian nightmare… We could barely find enough food every day…”

“And after the walls were up, you had to deal with all the groups that had moved in,” Randy conceded.

“Yeah…” Charlene nodded glumly, “Since then, we’ve been fighting for our lives.”

“You could’ve gotten the attention of any number of heroes…” Sheldon intoned harshly, “Maybe…”

“Every day we lost members to the Council, the Outcasts, and even the Lost!” Charlene suddenly shouted, tears glistening in her eyes, “They were either recruited or killed. It didn’t matter, they were gone. Every day, they got stronger while we got weaker. We could barely hold our own against the different groups with Martin and me to protect them and a handful of Rikti weapons at our disposal! It didn’t help that this Kheldian within me burned herself out during the fight that brought the ship down! I went from the power to decimate a legion to barely being able to light the way through the sewer tunnels we were hiding in…”

She broke down, sobbing hysterically. Randy patted her back comfortingly, but glared at Wallace. The supergroup’s tech man was surprisingly unperturbed by the large man’s attention, but did seem a bit humbled at the situation Charlene painted for him.

“Well,” Cedric said after a few moments of silence, “We know about them now… and we’re a small army here. Hell, we are ‘Grey’s Army…’ Why don’t we go over there and clear a path for the people that’re left? We could get them back to their homes!”

Randy nodded.

“That sounds like an excellent suggestion,” Sheldon replied, “We should act quickly, too. If Mrs. Grey is correct, the situation must be grim and getting worse every second…”

“We’ll get everyone together,” Kip pushed off from the wall, “Maybe even get Joe to get some cops to help us. We’re probably going to need the assistance.”

“It sounds like we have our next mission,” Zeke hummed to himself, “Well, we better have everybody on this. We made the news because of our little stunt, and I don’t just mean the Hero Channel reports, we made big news for taking down that base and I’m sure the Lost will recognize the hostage we rescued…”

“We’ve gotta work fast…” Kip was punching buttons on his communicator, “I’m getting all these weird messages that there’s an army of Rikti on the move. Heroes are trying to put a hurt on them across the city, but there’s just too many…”

“Where are they headed?” Charlene asked wearily.

“North,” Kip replied, “To Boomtown…”

"Never a chance to rest," Cedric grunted as he forced himself to stand, then, drawing his axe, "Well, let's treat the Gods to one Helluva fight!"

And they were off...

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

By the time the supergroup entered the sewers that housed the Dregs, it was almost too late. The Rikti and the Lost were in the middle of a massive firefight with the Outcasts and the defending Dregs. The fact that some of the Outcasts had come to the aid of the homeless refugees was probably a testament to their human spirit, and a desire to be something better than they were. Regardless, Grey’s Army dropped out of the sky like a carpet bombing of heroes.

Randall Grey, encased in his granite armor, smashed his way through the ranks of Rikti soldiers, clearingt eh way for his compatriots. With Cedric Grey following behind Kipland Durj and Ryat99 following Cobalt Black, the tanks and scrappers flanked the blasters, defenders, controllers, and even the kheldians with Matt McGinty bringing up the rear.

They had everybody this time. There was to be no holding back. Randall even got over his distaste of the guy and allowed his daughter’s boyfriend to join them. Joe Durnan’s face, while normally panicked in the presence of Mr. Grey, was now set and determined. Just like that fateful day of the “Cube Incident.”

Behind them, in Steel Canyon and just entering into Baumton, Freedom Corps troops were swarming in to counter the sudden resurgence in Rikti activity, they had been briefed of the situation by Cedric Grey (the only member of the group other than Cobalt Black who might have been able to explain it to them in their terms), and some units were deployed that specialized in hostage situations. Grey’s Army wasn’t about to let it come to that, however.

The battle through the sewer was harrowing, with the Durj “twins” roaring hoarsely to match Randall Grey. They were joined all along the way by the refugees and Outcasts falling back from the Restructurist onslaught. As their group grew, the rush to the various choke points grew easier.

At each point, Randall and the other tanks, assisted by Nester Durj to keep them all moving and breathing, would brutally halt the Restructurist advance. Whenever they were about to be overwhelmed, Randall would collapse a part of the tunnel to give them some breathing room, now taking up the rear to cover the escape of the others.

Eventually, they came to a great chamber. A former hero base, the Dregs had been hiding in the old, squalid ruin from the Rikti and the Lost since the end of the Rikti War. Their limited supply of alien weaponry and salvaged shotguns, pistols, and submachine guns had been utilized haphazardly, but surprisingly effectively to hold off any would-be incursions, whether they came form the Rikti, the Outcasts, or even the Council. Sometimes, some of the refugees mentioned between gasps, they often found themselves aided by the Clockwork, but not today. None of Grey’s Army really wanted to wrap their heads around that issue, so they fought on.

The ruin was very open, and surprisingly bereft of sewage. Martin Sanders greeted Randall as the other members of the supergroup started organizing a hasty but, hopefully, solid defense.

“You must be Randall,” Martin extended his hand, “When we heard the yelling, I figured things weren't going the Rikti's way. People yell differently when they fight and when they scream in terror. So, I told the last couple checkpoints to stand down and be prepared to move. I can see Char wasn’t exaggerating when she described ya… I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody bigger.”

“You seem surprisingly clear-minded for a crazy-looking homeless guy…” Randall replied as he powered down his granite armor.

“Appearances are deceiving,” Martin replied, “My insanity isn’t one that typically affects my normal life… just… well… we can talk about it some other time.”

“Right, the important thing is fighting off the Rikti and getting these people out of… Hey, I know that guy! Bob!”

The man Randall yelled to turned suddenly, shock on his face, “Randy! Oh my god! What’re you doing here? What… How’s Sandy?”

Randy patted his old friend on the shoulder, “Yeah, she’s fine. Your kids are fine, too. Bob… Don’t cry, Bob… I don’t want to have to hurt you to bring you back to reality… Stay with me, here…”

“HEY!” Martin suddenly clapped his hands in Bob’s face, “WAKE UP, SOLDIER! You’ve got work to do! Move!”

The little bald man shook a little, realized where he was, and snapped to his task. Randy nodded as he watched him go.

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

“I don’t remember,” Martin shrugged, “I think some old war movie. I’ve had so much weird [censored] happen in my life, I don’t know where any of this crap is coming from. I mean, look at our defensive setup… Does that look like something a sane man would do?”

“No…”Randall admitted, “It doesn’t. Is it effective?”

“Yeah,” Martin bit his lower lip then grimaced, “We’ve had too many invasions, but the people here, they rally behind me… Well, behind your wife…” his face suddenly got a far away look but he quickly came back to focus, “and me. I’m sure you know by now that your wife brought down the ship…”

“Yeah.”

“Martin!”

Charlene ran up and hugged her friend. Martin gave her a light return hug and set her back on her feet. Unlike Joe Durnan with Sarah Grey, he was in very serious danger of getting killed in this situation, and he recognized it. Randall had noticed his change in expression earlier, and now stared at the smaller, disheveled man as he stood next to his wife. He knew there was a tension between the three of them, but it was peculiar. Charlene bit the corner of her lip and edged away from Martin, making herself equidistant between the two.

“We’ll deal with this some other time,” he told the two of them, “I… I think we can talk through this.”

The other two nodded and Randall clicked on his communicator.

“Cedric, are we ready?”

“Yeah, dad! As ready as we’ll ever—“

“Cory! What’s the status of the Rikti?”

“They’ve broken through the last rubble pile and are now working their way in your direction. I’m just fortunate they didn’t bring any drones… We’ll be there in about three minutes!”

“OKAY!” Randy shouted over the nervous crowd, “I need you all to be quiet right now and listen up! In a minute, we’re going to be fighting a ruthless enemy that seeks your enslavement, or your deaths. The enemy knows you, and you know them! You’ve all had plenty of experience behind your weapons, I’m certain my heroes have assigned you to your specialties…”

He stood before the cowering, disheveled civilians, decked out similarly to the Lost, only there wasn’t a mutated face or body among them…

“If you survive this day… You’re going home. Let that be your beacon, and never give up.”

Cory then burst through the entrance, blaster fire streaming behind him. He dropped to the floor and slapped an ice patch on the ground, rolling out of the way as the two forces took stock of each other for an instant.

On one side, the Rikti Restructurists. An allied army of mutated humans on their way to being converted and conscripted as full-on Rikti, as well as plenty of the real thing. They all bristled with weaponry, from the scrapped shotguns and SMGs of teh Lost to the glowing energy swords and blasters of the Rikti. The officers wore their normally shiny silver armor, some were dressed in red, and a vast majority of lieutenants were dressed in black. One, standing dead center, was dressed in purple and wielded a wicked looking energy blade with two curved forward scythe ends and a barbed point that jutted out of the middle.

On the Dregs side was a motley collection of desperate faces and determined heroes. The groups were situated so those with the most combat experience were bolstering those without. There were no really strong points in the Dregs' defense, but there weren't any real weak points (yet) either.

They held the advantage, however, as the location was, for all intents and purposes, their home. Not all of teh Restructurist troops had arrived yet, and Randall had no intention of letting them before his side inflcited heavy casualties on the enemy.

The Purple-armored Rikti commander must have read Randall's mind, because simultaneously, the two raised their arms, Randall's covered in thick, gray stone, the Rikti commander holding his war blade in his hand, and made a sharp salute at each other.

The two armies opened fire as one.

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.

The fighting, needless to say, was vicious. The opening ranks of each side fell like bloody paper dolls. On the refugees' and Grey’s Army’s side, the people were almost instantly revived from near-death by Nester’s healing nanite waves, as well as their medics injecting and slapping “greens” into their compatriots. On the Rikti side, however, the Lost foot soldiers weren’t so lucky as to receive such aid from the Rikti Guardians.

After the first volley, Randall immediately stormed forward and chaos broke loose. The two armies closed with each other, shotgun blasts, submachine gunfire, and even machetes, knives and Rikti war blades whipping out to deal with the close range fighting.

Cedric took a whole squad by himself, at first whooping and laughing at the combat. After a few Rikti fell to his axe, however, his yells changed to vicious roars of victory, rage and hate. He screamed things like “Three… Long… Years! You took my Ma away for three… long… years…” punctuating each sentence and fragment with a swing of his axe. When Cobalt gave a worried look to Matt McGinty, the sword-wielding scrapper merely shook his head in assurance that Cedric wasn’t losing his will to some bizarre connection to his Praetorian’s soul. It was just pent up anger finally being vented. What MAGI and Matt never told Cedric was that this axe’s purpose was to block the bizarre mystical link Cedric the Gray had developed with him since he’d started being a hero with the Praetorian’s weapon.

Cory had worked his way to the rear, with the riflemen wielding Rikti and Council rifles. Joe Durnan was the maestro of their concert of destruction, directing their fire to the most vital areas in the Restructurist ranks. Guardians and Communications Officers went down first, there were enough Rikti without those types bolstering the ranks. Even still, a couple portals popped up that had to be stomped out by Kipland. Joe and Cory then each took a half of snipers, and directed concentrated firepower on two separate points as opposed to localizing all of the attacks on single targets.

Kipland, Cobalt, and Mattock were all over the place, assisting any groups that were in danger of suddenly being overwhelmed. They were fortunate to not have to assist the groups bolstered by the Outcasts, however, who seemed to be surprisingly adept at fighting the horde.

When a Headman Swordsman kicked down one of the refugee buckshot blasters, and set about trying to cleave him in two, the nearby fire-based Outcast stepped between them. A fiery scimitar blazed out of his hand and caught the blade, arcing through it like butter. The tip clattered to the ground, and the Headman stared at his destroyed weapon in awe, electronic components of its harmonic-frequency vibration device sparking and sizzling, exposed to the air. The orange-skinned Outcast then sidestepped, swept the blade diagonally across the swordsman’s torso, then back across his belly. The villain fell to his knees, and the Outcast leader’s left hand balled up into a fiery fist that he used to shatter the broken television casing the headman was using as a helmet, and burn through to the monster’s face, knocking him out cold.

The blue-skinned, wild-haired, lightning Outcast leader was also an exceptional one. He unleashed a massive volley of lightning that tore through the Rikti’s ranks, but he wasn’t ready for the energy blast that knocked him clean off his feet. Nester was there, suddenly, and engaging his healing wave. A couple more blasts came his way, but they fizzled out in the nanite cloud of his defensive matrix. The blue-skinned, clean-cut ice Outcast dragged his friend out of the fray, firing lances of cold and snow into the horde.

Snuffy, Zeke, Sheldon, Charlene, and the Ryats stood in the center. The Ryats had once again assumed their “tower formation,” a peculiar combination attack that enabled the longer range and higher damaging droid to utilize the power output of his larger counterpart, while Ryat99 was able to keep his little friend out of melee and spread some of his ice armor to shield Ryat66. Sheldon, oddly, wasn’t using his gravity control gloves. Instead, he whipped out a pair of bizarre, futuristic submachine guns and starting blasting away at anything that got too close. Sarah simply turned the enemy against one another, one at a time. When their heads seemed to clear, Charlene put them down with a concentrated blast of light energy. Zeke tracked wherever Randall went and bolstered his attacks with well-placed dark energy strikes.

The fighting wore on for what seemed like hours, but was really only a few minutes. However, with the fatigue that was setting in, and only the heroes (maybe) not showing signs of fatigue, Joe Durnan suddenly reached into his cargo pocket. Cory glared at him with a quizzical look.

“We’re gonna die here, Cory,” Joe gasped, “Everybody’s getting tired, and only one of us will be able to keep fighting… We need help…”

“Longbow’s out there…”

“They’re trickling in…” Joe desperately tapped buttons on his communicator, “ They won’t get involved fast enough… I’ve got ties to a group that will, though. I’m calling for backup…”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Steel Canyon, a long-haired young man wearing a red trench coat, blue jeans, and a white tank-top bearing an anarchy symbol stood by the Universal Supergroup Base Portal. He was a tad peculiar looking, his face bedecked in red-tinted sunglasses and black tear-drop eye makeup. A broadsword hung at his hip, the point of which rested just above his left tan work boot. Next to the handle, a popular early 1980’s video game theme song started to beep from his communicator.

“Draven here,” the long-haired scrapper quipped.

“Get to Boomtown. You’ll see where to go. Bring your boys.”

“We getting a reprieve for this duty, Durnan?”

“I’ll pull the strings. I’ll get the PPD to let you guys alone. Hurry!”

“You got it,” Draven clicked off his communicator and turned to his companions. They were a motley group, to be sure. They were his companions, his crew, and for now, his army.

One wore a gray outfit, a denim jacket over a black rock band T-shirt. His pants were a blend of blue and gray as well, and he wore a pair of similar themed sunglasses to contrast a brown goatee. Medium hair matching his goatee for color flanked his face. His boots were the same type as Draven’s. A heavy black war mace hung at his hip.

Another was small, skinny, and covered in blue lightning-styled warpaint. His face was barely recognizable under all of the blue. His dark brown hair wildly went every which way. Around his waist, a belt of golden skulls, each one marked with letters spelling “hardcore” etched into them, held up a crudely designed and constructed war kilt. Heavy, dark brown combat boots came up to his knees, and a series of sharp, wicked knives were slid into the belt.

The third companion wore a strange outfit that looked like a sports official. Next to him, a man who looked like a ninja from some sort of cartoon, only dressed in a black trench coat. The ninja’s fingers crackled with electricity, and the referee reached down to his utility belt and flicked a switch. A bubble of energy encircled the group.

“Gentlemen, you know the deal,” Draven said to his companions, “King Slater, you’re up front. Psycho13, you’re with me. Project Whirlwind, Ref… you guys are support. Keep those shields up, and keep them off their feet. Let’s go bust some heads.”

---

My Stories

Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.