FSL 2.0 Character Introductions

GWC Community GWC Fantasy Sci-fi 2.0: Black Ops Edition
#1

I had a little Idea that went out of control.
I tough we could write a little introduction of how our character are getting Drafted into the GWC WarWorld.
Just a lottle warm up let’s say.

Here is my main Scenario :

Prologue.

Batcave. June 11th 2010

Batman (Dick Grayson) is training is protégé in the art of subtlety when a not so subtle alarm flood the cave of a bright green light. A call from the Oracle, Barbara Gordon, Batman Ex. Hence the alarm.

Damian : Another distraction! My father would never had broken is concentration for a pity phone call.

Batman : Your father would never had a real relationship either. C’mon start over again. Check him Alfred.

Batman goes to the CPU, sit down, remove is coal and answer the call.
Batman : Hey, Sorry Barb if I did not call you back last week.

Oracle : 2 weeks. Save your sorry barb for later. We have a problem… GWC as reopen Warworld!!! They are planning to beam random people there to compete against them in there twisted mind games and porn name.

Batman: We need a plan and a good one.

Oracle : Already ahead of you. I’ve reprogram the remains of Brother Eye to be able to select control patches were the beaming will occur. What I need from you now is to contact your friend of the Justice League and use make sure all these beaming point are evacuated. I can’t guarantee some team won’t be beamed from time the time. Master Sean is a powerful being and even with all the help in the world I can’t see how to stop him.

Batman: That’s why we need small teams to be ready to overcome the challenges and infiltrate the GWC WarWorld. (Putting is cowl back) Time is of the essence, let me make those calls and we will get ready to do our part. Hum, I might need one of your Bird of Prey , whose your best Pilot? ( Damian is coming subtly being Batman now wearing is Robin suit.)

Oracle: You know Gorram well who it is. Always trying to work with your Ex.

Batman: She’s the best.

Oracle: She’s on her way. Oracle out.

Damian: Did you have a relationship with every one of our female ally’s?

Batman staring at him.

Damian: That’s why dad did not have real relationship Grayson.

Batman: Damian, shut up.
Batman turns to the BatCPU and hit a big Red button label JLA.
Batman: To all operative. We have a situation. I need team of 4 to go to these specific coordinate and evacuate the areas. GWC is doing it again and this time is our chance to strike BACK. This is of the most crucial importance use whatever contact, technology, time travel, robotic, and leathered chic you have at your disposition to recruit your team.
Cover all the basic task: Pilot, Tech, Recon and Martial artist and you should be fine.
This is your mission, your first BLACK OPS mission!
Batman Out.

Chapter One
The Draft

Legendary Team :

‘’ This is your mission, your first BLACK OPS mission!
Batman Out. ‘’

Hal Jordan is piloting the new US Space shuttle The Daniel Jackson, when those words are spoken trough is Power ring, For now none of it matters. The shuttle is not stable and he estimated another good 10 seconds before it explodes into tidbits. In those 10 seconds he must recover is calm and make one with the ring. See himself as invincible, Fearless.

The hull of the shuttle collapse and the next 10 second are much enjoyment. Who else can go through all this and live to make a report of what went wrong at every turn. Forget that, who gets to see an explosion from the inside. His power ring that makes him a member of the Green Lantern Corp as the power to construct energy fields of any shape and form the bearer can imagine. At this exact moment Hal is in a green bubble and hover above Earth.

Hal rewind the message from Batman, reshape is ring field in a skin tight armor and go straight back to Cheyenne mountain. First thing, a shower, then report and team organization.

General O’Neill is already on the know about the GWC eminent attack.

Hal: I would like to get out of the box on this one.

O’Neill: Everybody on this mission thinks like you do. I have a bunch of guy crossing the door for the last 4 hours that want they exact thing so be specific. I was having a beer on my deck 5 hours ago and I would like to get back there so be quick as well.

Hal: I would like to contact James Bond of MI6.

O’NEILL: You can’t, I he already is why my friend MacGyver, but I can make it up to you.

10 hours later London, MI6 Headquarters.
Hal get in a room and is waiting for his 00 agent. A small old guy with white hair and a week look gets in the room.

Q : M tells me that a certain General O’Neill would like us to work together.

Hal: I bet he does.

Q: I got the specific and here what her Majesty secret services can offer .
Q open a door and enter. The door closes and Hal wait for a moment. The door open again and Q look at Hal like he’s missed something.

Q: Follow me Double 0 Zero.

Hal follow Q into a maze of little doors and old corridors and end up into an abandoned Subway Station. 2 more doors and 1 more corridor they arrive into an enormous lab with tones of gadgets and crap.

Hal: Wow, you’re a busy bee. Jet pack, those this work.

Q, a little nervous : Don’t touch that or anything else for that matter. I have enough double 0 agent to break my stuff that I don’t need to export my in invention to other universes.

Hal look amuse. Q look at him and open yet another door. Behind it a Police man is standing really straight.

Q: Human replication technology serial T-1000. All the advantage of a robot, can replicate any blunt weapon of person of more or less is size. Voice and clothes included. Made of liquid metal he can blent with any surface if the is enough place to render himself completely flat.

Hal: You must be joking.

Q: I never joke about my work mister Uni-Gadget.

Hal: Ok that makes a great infiltrator and you are the best martial artist there is, Right?

Q: Grown up Green Hornet. M made a deal with a notorious terrorist. At least we tough he was a terrorist. Turns out the man is infected with a virus that gives him ability like vampirism. Trough serum is develop he was able to control the thirst for hemoglobin to regenerate is cells and use is ability to fight others that don’t think like him and ‘’drink’’ people. He needed a better serum, we made it for him and he owes is Majesty one.

A black man in perfect shape wearing a black outfit, a leather trench coat, a pair of sunglass and a sword strap to his back.

Blade: I’m Blade. Let’s start this so you amateur can get kill.

T-1000: I can’t get kill, only desactivated.

Blade: Whatever Shinyballs.

Hal: Now we wait. Our beaming point is here anyway.

TO BE CONTINUED….

#2

Something I just made up…first two characters…the second two to follow.


Introduction of Riddick and Xander Cage

A bird flies overhead looking at the landscape below, its eyes honing in on the prey that it had been stalking for half the night, waiting for the optimum time to swoop down and dispatch its prey. Sensing the time is right, it begins its descent to the forest floor below.

Closer, closer it goes, its talons extended… Just as it reaches the scurrying mouse like creature, it explodes into a shower of blood, feathers and guts.

The silence is broken as men with guns coming bursting through the undergrowth, one is brandishing a flame thrower and randomly starts to burn the trees…He’s chewing gum as he comments, “Even this man can’t hide in a forest with no trees”.

The lead grunt turns around and puts his finger to his lips and makes the shhhhh sound. The other grunts look at the lead grunt and look confused as they see a trickle of blood escaping his lips. They look past him and see the cause – Riddick has stuck a shiv in the lead’s grunts back causing his lung to puncture.

Panic starts to spread as they begin to spray the forest with bullets, one of the men reaches for his radio and shouts, “Alpha Two-Zero, begin Operation Dark Purge"…he then throws down the radio and joins in with the fire fight.
Riddick turns and begins to run, his motion as graceful as a gazelle on an African savannah, his goggles are up as the world has the usual silver/white haze that he’s so used to.

The bullets fly through the air impacting on the trees, destroying them. He’s calm as he stops and listens to the ever increasing drone of the incoming air strike and the soft thud of the napalm like substance. He smiles knowing that he has to escape, but that’s never been a problem before, so he turns and keeps going.

It seems like ages, but as the inferno keeps getting closer, he exits the forest only to be greeted by the thudding of aircraft bullets trying to hit him. He looks and spies a cliff edge, he comments to himself, “Man can’t stop me, tech can’t stop me…only god can stop me now…and I’ll like to see him try”.

He turns once more and summoning all of his strength, he runs full steam as he leaps off the cliff face spying the forest canopy below him. His swan dive is graceful as he picks up speed, he angles himself to prevent himself from too much harm and just as he is about to penetrate the tree canopy, his vision turns black…pitch black…

The setting is a high class massage parlour in Sweden, there is Xander Cage on the bed face down as the Swedish beauties tend to his body, soothing his aches and pains.

“You know I like the pace and action of the first movie”
“True and the music by Rammestein was a killer choice”
“Yeah, but he’s no James Bond and what’s with all the weird catchphrases…It’s a bit cliché…That and I prefer Ice Cube as XXX”

Rolling her eyes, the massage girl who happens to be very curvy Jessica Simpson lookalike continues to rub Xander’s shoulders. She sighs, “Meh, I prefer watching BSG and I love that Cavil character…he’s one wrong I would love to make right”.

Xander being a total ego, listens to them talking in Swedish and obviously doesn’t understand a word quips, “Ladies, stop fighting, I can please all of you…you’re in the Xander Zone now”…As he gets up totally starkers hoping to impress…IYKWIM.

A beep emanates through the room breaking the awkwardness, even though they are drooling. He walks over and answers his video watch. The holographic display activates showing the common facade of Samuel L Jackson barking his orders.

“Triple X, I have a ********** mission for you, here the co-ords to meet, so stop ************ those hoochies and get your *********** ass over to the ********* location, you sorry mother************ ************.”

He smiles and gets dressed in his trousers and wife beater and heads outside and hops into his Bugatti Veyron and speeds his way over to the co-ords. As he does, he slides in his Bee-Gees album and makes his way over.

After a while, he realises that the gps is leading him to a place several meters from the edge of yet another cliff, but hovering there is a transport carrier with the ramp down. The volume goes up as Staying Alive pumps through the stereo, he guns it causing the Veyron to go into its version of turbo boost and launches off the cliff.

Just as it’s about to land in the carrier, the carrier is hit by a missile and explodes causing it to dive to the sea floor. Not looking good for Xander, he opens the door ready to jump out.

He utters the words, “This is going to hurt…XXX style.” and jumps…

#3

The year is After Colony 196, and three young warriors stand on an isolated hillside. Towering above them are giant mecha, man-shaped mobile suits called Gundams. The three boys look at each other, and then one last time at the giant machines above them and together press the buttons that will activate the self-destruct mechanisms. In an flash of red light they explode, leaving the world forever…almost.

In that same moment, a white flash removes the black Gundam, although no one in that world would ever notice its absence. At the same time, the young man dressed in black, almost like a priest, saw the world disappear around him. Behind him, in the world, nothing appeared to change, and his life went on as normal.

“Duo Maxwell,” said a voice out of the void. A touch nasal, and sure to be annoying to anyone who heard it. As if it’s owner wasn’t enough. A moment later there was another flash of white light and the Gundan Deathscythe appeared, with a strange man standing on the access hatch. He was wearing the uniform of a Starfleet officer, of the Command division, with admiral’s rank pips on the collar.

“Who the hell are you?” Duo yelled. “And what are you doing with Deathscythe? If I get my hands on you…”

“You petty Earth-creatures, always with the threats. My dear boy, I am here to offer you a wonderful opportunity.” Another flash of light, and Duo was standing beside the tall man.

“Why, I oughtta-“ Duo pulled his arm back to punch the man.
“Tsk, tsk. Jean-Luc would never have hit me. I can’t be letting you do that now,” the man said, and Duo found he could no longer move his body. “There now, that’s better. As I said, I have a wonderful opportunity. You’ve spent the last two years fighting in all out war, and you’ve proven quite the magnificent warrior as well. I should like to recruit you for a little game of mine.”

“Game? Mister, war is no game. We just fought for peace and I’d like to enjoy it.” Duo said, straining against the invisible bonds that held him.

“Mister? My, I have been remiss. You may call me Q. And I will assure you of this, I do not plan for you to be involved in any war, just certain…operations, we shall say. You of all people are not to be in the fighting to begin with. A great game is soon to begin, the Black Ops competiton of the Galactic Watercooler. I have selected you to be my pilot for the missions. As well as driver. And small time mechanic as need be.”

“And why should I do this for you? Huh, mister?” The young man said, “Why should I play in your ‘competition’? And why did you take Deathscythe, if I’m only to be the pilot?”

“There may be some use for this machine. Oh I could have created an exact duplicate from the matter of the universe if I had wanted, but I would imagine you’d prefer your own model. As to why, my dear boy, I have the only method of returning you to your world, to your dear girl, and to your life. They’ll never know you are gone, and if you don’t help me you can live out your non-existence here, in this emptiness between worlds. Help me, and I can be of great service to you.” Another series of flashes surrounded them, and gold, food, fine clothes, as well as beautifully women surrounded the men. The Gundam was gone, replaced by a tiny model on the ground at their feet. Q picked it up and handed it to Duo. “And I can return this to you too.”
“All right old man, I’ll play your game. You say I’m your pilot? Fine then, but are there others then?”

“There are, and you’ll be meeting them presently. In the mean time, enjoy yourself.” Q blinked himself away, leaving Duo alone with the model. The wine, women, and food disappeared with him, leaving Duo with a confused expression.

 *-----*------*------*------*------*

It is a month after his friend and parter, Gene Starwind, has won the battle at the Galactic Leyline, and with Melfina and the rest of the crew, they had begun to travel the galaxy once more. Jim Hawking, however, is not as pleased as the rest of the crew. He has checked the books again and again, and one fact keeps returning to him-there is not enough money to keep the ship flying. ‘Gene just keeps wasting it all. At least he’s not spending it on women, not with Melfina around, but it just won’t last.’ While he sits in the store room on the Outlaw Star a tall man suddenly appears before him.
“Jim Hawking. I have a proposition for you, it could be quite lucrative,” Q said.

“A business proposition? We could sure use a job, Starwind and Hawking Incorporated, at your service.” The mention of a solution the their financial woes drove all the worries about how this strange man had appeared on the ship. Besides, Gene was on the bridge, and along with Sazuka and Aisha they should be able to handle this man, whoever he was, if there was any trouble. The young boy stood up, his goggles hanging around his neck and his work belt hanging from his hip. He brushed his spiky blond hair back from his face and held out his hand to the tall man.

“Yes, quite lucrative-if you accept. Of course, the offer is for you alone, and I have to have your acceptance right away.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll accept, I just need to clear it with-“ but before Jim could get up to talk to Gene, or anyone else, the world around him disappeared in a flash. Everything was replaced by a grey, empty room that seemed to extend in every direction. On the floor before him was an older boy, with a long brown braid and dressed like a priest, holding a small toy of some kind.
“Come on, old buddy, you can’t just be left like this?” Duo said to the model of Deathscythe in his hands.

“Duo, meet your first partner. This is Jim Hawking, he’s going to be the tech specialist on the team,” Q said.

“Tech specialist? Team? What’s going on here? Where’s Gene, where am I?” Jim said, starting to become a little hysterical.

“Easy there, little buddy,” Duo said, rising and stepping towards Jim. He looked for Q, but the man had already disappeared again. “Guess he got you too. That man, Q, says we’re to going to be his ‘team’ or something in a competition. Galactic Water Cooler, Black Ops, I think he called it. He said he’d send me back when it was over, I’m guess he’ll do the same for you.”
“But how can we trust this guy if we don’t even know who he is?” Jim yelled.
“I don’t know if we can. But look at it this way; do we really have a choice?”

 *-----*------*------*------*------*
#4

Batou sat in the darkness of his quarters, watching the door that had closed the Major as she had left his hideout behind him. He didn’t know if he could think of her as the same woman as before-if you could call a near total cyborg a woman. She had just joined with the program of the Puppetmaster, and left him behind in the body of a child. He did not know if he would see her again.

“Why so gloomy, big man?” the voice of Q asked from the darkness.
Without replying, Batou rolled from the chair in the darkness, pulling his backup pistol from its holster and aiming it at the voice. A moment later the lights in the room sprang into brilliance, showing Batou the strange man in unusual pajamas before him. The same voice spoke to him again.

“I don’t think that’s a very effective weapon, you know,” Q said. Batou looked down to see that he was holding a pink water pistol in his hands.
“What are you playing at?” Batou growled, looking the man up and down and silently scanning the net in the back of his mind for any information on this man. Nothing was showing up in Section 9’s databases.

“I’d just like to recruit you for a little game I’m beginning. I could use a big, strong man like you for the more delicate aspects of the missions. The irony you’ll appreciate, I’m sure.” Q moved in a flash of light from standing to sitting in the armchair that Batou had just vacated. “And you can stop searching that tiny little database for information on me. You’ll never find any. According to your people, I don’t exist.”

“Who are you, then?” Batou asked, tossing the waterpistol aside and standing in front of Q.

“You may call me Q, of the Q Continuum. Oh, I know you’ve never heard of me. This backwater planet is so primitive at this stage. Be that as it may, I think you’d make a perfect addition to my team as a reconnaissance expert. I’d even allow you that little cloaking device you’re so fond of. If you’ll accept my little offer, I could offer you quite the reward.”

“I’m not some mercenary for you to hire. I already have a job, for-“
“Yes yes, your little job for Section 9. What would you say if I offered to ensure, discretely of course, that your recent involvement with the newly departed Major was cleared up, and to keep Section 6 from its little power plays that keep interfering with your missions, hrmm? If you join my team, of course.”

Batou stood silent before the man lounging in his chair, the grey replacements for his eyes betraying no emotion. He couldn’t believe this man, his offer or existence, or the things he could apparently do. Batou did not like the helpless feeling that this man gave him. He decided to stall.

“I would have to ask for leave, of course, and the chief won’t let me just disappear before the investigation… It’ll be at least-“ but before he could finish, his safe-house vanished in a flash of white light. He found himself in a room with two kids.

“I’ll return you to the very instant you left, you can be sure,” said from behind him. “Now, why don’t the three of you get acquainted and I’ll just be off to collect the last member of the team.”

“Hey old man, he got you too?” Duo asked, looking up from where he was sitting with Jim on the floor.

“Great, picked for some sort of team mission and I’m stuck on a babysitting job. Just my luck.” Batou said with a sigh.

 *-----*------*------*------*------*

Himura Kenshin had taken the way of the wanderer once more. Despite the feelings he had for Miss Kaoru and the friendships with the rest of the boarders at her dojo, he couldn’t stay in one place any more. He knew he’d return some day, but for now he could not stay there.

A few miles outside of the city he looked up from the road to see a tall man in very unusual clothing before him on the road.

“Good day to you, sir, and how are you this day?” Kenshin asked.
“I’m quite fine. I want to recruit you for-” Q began, but Kenshin cut him off.
“Oh, this one is not looking for work, not now he is not. There’s miles more to go before I stop, that there is,” Kenshi said with a smile, walking along past the man. There was a brief flash of light and the man appeared on the road before Kenshin once more.

“You are fast sir, very much, but I am not interested,” Kenshin said with a smile.

“I would like you to fight for me in a championsh-“ Q began again.
“Oh, I do not fight, not for money.” The red-haired samurai pushed past Q once more, walking on down the road.

Q flashed in the air again, this time floating in mid air in front of Kenshin as he walked, keeping pace with the warrior even as he walked.

“Now listen to me, and don’t interrupt me again. It is quite rude. I really do not have to give you much of a choice. I do not want to resort to such crass things as threats, but if you will not join in this little engagement, I must say that things will be quite difficult for Kaoru’s dojo.”

Kenshin’s eyes flashed at the moment, and his entire demeanor changed. His voice became a little deeper and lost it’s easy-going nature. “Threats are very serious things, and not to be made lightly.”

“Well, then, come with me and I won’t have to carry them out. I promise the entire operation is not to include killing, merely certain…challenges. I can also promise that the dojo will be quite successful during your wanderings if you wander in my direction. “ Q lowered his gaze to regard the warrior. “Again, I’m not really giving you a choice.” With that, Kenshin felt the warmth of the sun disappear from his back, and appeared in a grey room that seemed to stretch in all directions. His sakabat? was gone, replaced by a simple wooden sword.
“So then, Wanderer, meet your teammates. You will be the team’s martial artist, warrior of skill and discipline. I suggest you get to know your teammates. Your weapons, such as they are, will be returned to you when you set out on your first mission. Until then, you may enjoy these facilities.” With a final series of flashes, Q vanishes once more, as couches, a television screen, kitchen, and various other comforts of a finely furnished apartment appear around the team.

Jim pushed himself out of the red armchair that had appeared under him and walked over to Kenshin. Duo headed for the fridge, loudly proclaiming that he was starving while Batou walked towards a doorway leading into another room.

“I’m Jim Hawking. The guy with the hair over there is Duo Maxwell, and the old guy’s Batou. We’ve all been kidnapped like you to play in some game that Q guy’s cooked up. He says it’s GWC’s Black Ops or something. Duo seems to think he’ll send us back once he’s done, but Batou and I are trying to come up with some kind of plan to force him to send us home, if we can stop him. Who’re you?”

Kenshin’s features resumed their easy going nature, and he began to relax.
“Well, little sir, I am Kenshin, a wanderer and not much of a fighter. I do enjoy cooking, so maybe I can help all of you in that way. And I do want to go home, that I do.”

At the mention of food, Duo’s head appeared from behind the door of the fridge. “You’re a cook? Great, why don’t we work on making some dinner?”
Batou returned from the hallway and coughed loudly. “There’s four bedrooms down this way, as well as a room that’s marked “Requirement.” When I opened it I found a gym in there. This place seems to be fairly well equipped, and there’s a computer terminal in the corner. We can start working on putting a plan together to deal with this Q fellow right away.”

“But dinner first!” Duo said.

 *-----*------*------*------*------*

Outside, in the universe, Q smiled to himself. Fallen_Crusader had asked him to get the team together, and he felt he had done a good job. Nothing to unite people like a common enemy, and they’d never find a way to defeat him. Now he just had to convince them to win in the games…

#5

Driver/Pilot: The Fox (Wanted)
Tech: Professor Seltzer (Wanted)
Recon: The Killer (Wanted)
Martial Artist: Hitgirl (Kickass)

The alternate history for the members from Wanted is much the same as the comic with the exception of the killing of Professor Seltzer. In this history that part was bungled. As for hitgirl, we are going more with the movie, only in this version Kickass died. Without him to offer balance and stability after her Fathers death, she goes berserk.

Team Ruthless Introduction

From the observation deck he watched the young girl limber herself up with a series of stretches before her training session, he had already seen her in combat previously but he wanted to see how she faired against trained fighters. As he leaned against the railing the sound of high heeled boots approached, Fox was a trained assassin, the only time you could hear her approaching was either if she was if she was angry or if she wanted to draw attention to herself on purpose. Usually for seductive purposes, but based upon the sharp sound of her heels on the catwalk and the aggressive cadence of her walk; she was angry.

He ignored her obvious attempt to draw his attention away from the scene below, he pushed a button to summon her first adversary, he would start her out in unarmed combat first. When he continued to ignore the annoyed black woman standing beside him she lit a cigarette, the Killer turned his head and glared at her, “This is a no smoking area.” She blew smoke in his face and her eyes twinkled at his annoyance as she flipped him off with the cigarette as a mock middle finger. He turned away and watched the two below circle each other as they looked for an opening, he hated cigarette smoke but he was in no mood for a verbal sparring match with Fox. But it looked like he was going to get an earful anyways, “Seltzer sent us to that parallel Earth to gather intelligence; he said nothing about bringing back any God damned souvenirs.” He watched the small girl leg sweep the hulking brute, “She is an asset,” he coolly answered. “We suffered severe losses after the war with Rictus we need to build our forces back up.” Fox sneered, “She has no powers.” Without missing a beat he countered, “neither do you,” with her first opponent down he summoned the next one and materialized an array of non lethal weapons for them to play with.

Fox blew smoke from her nostrils as she snorted, “She’s f%&king batsh*t crazy!” Wesley shook his head, “No, she is mad with grief. And angry, very angry…” He looked askance at Fox, “I will help her to focus that anger, to use it constructively and to turn it into a weapon.” The dark skinned assassin growled, “But an apprentice?” She blew smoke through clenched teeth, “What are you now. A f@#king Sith Lord?!” He chuckled at that as he watched the diminutive girl drop another opponent, he summoned two more men to spar with her. When he looked back at Fox she was a little cooler headed now, “No my dear, I just saw raw potential. You saw what she did to that gang…”

Fox waved her hand dismissively making smoke trails in the air, “Whatever, but she is not evil.” Wesley smirked, “Neither was I when you recruited me, remember?” That took her back a bit; she searched for a reply, “That, that was different…” He turned to her, the sound of weapons clashing below them, “Really?” he smirked, “How is it any different?” She jabbed a finger in his chest, “For one thing it was authorized by the Professor, unlike your little acquisition. And we knew your full history and, and there was your genetic predisposition.” She grinned evilly as another idea came to her, “And, you weren’t running around playing costumed hero before I approached you.” He raised an eyebrow at that, “Hero? I would hardly call what she and her Father had been doing beforehand, ‘playing hero’.” She leaned back on the railing looking smug, “Oh, really?” He nodded, “What they did was Vigilantism, killing disguised as justice. Her Father killed out of vengeance, but soothed his conscience by calling it justice.” He pointed down to the small girl who was taking out a man’s knee with a nunchaku, “She killed for two reasons, one; because it pleased her Father. And two, because she enjoys it.” With the men disposed of he materialized handguns and sent drones to buzz her.

It was obvious that Fox was impressed with the preadolescents performance but would never admit it, she looked back at him with seething brown eyes, “Semantics, the problem as I see it is that sooner or later she is going to snap out of her madness. What do you think she is going to do when she realizes our boss is a Super Villain?” He watched the tiny fury dodging and shooting the drones, and thought ‘that cape has got to go’, “She will be so deep in death and morally compromised that I think it won’t matter to her.”

The hail of gunfire went silent and the final drone sputtered and fell to the ground, the costume clad girl put her pistols on ‘safety’ and secured them in her belt. She looked toward the observation deck her small chest still heaving from the previous exertion, her eyes seeking approval from her new Father like figure. Wesley hit the intercom button, “Well done, now hit the showers.” Her smile lit up the room and then she sprinted off toward the locker room.

After a long awkward pause Fox spoke again, “Well I am sure the Professor will sign off on your new apprentice,” her voice took on a cutting tone, “after all he has a thing for little girls.” His head whipped about and his eyes flashed in anger, she grinned at the small victory and winked, “I’ll warn the Professor to keep his Pedophilic hands off of her, she’d probably cut them off if he tried anyways…” She sighed, “Have fun with your new playmate Wes but I warn you,” she flicked her cigarette at him, “if I so much as think she is turning ‘legit’.” The dying cigarette bounced off his chest harmlessly as she finished, “I am putting a bullet in her brainpan.” She turned and strutted away contemptuously, her hips swaying in a fashion as to remind him what he would not be getting tonight. A smile crept onto his lips, “You are just jealous that there is a new woman in my life.” She flipped him off for the second time that day, only this time it was with a real finger. He playfully laughed at her receding back.

#6

Team J-Bob

U.s.s. Enterprise shuttlecraft Galileo, Alpha Quadrant, Space … … … … The Final Frontier

"Lieutenant Commander Data’s' personal log. I am en route to Starbase 36 to attend a thermodynamics conference held by the Vulcan Science Academy. Geordi was unable to attend with me as he was conducting upgrades to the warp cores cooling systems. I regret Geordi's absence as it is my first conference with my newly acquired 'emotion chip.' I would find his moral support and guidance with these new sensations an invaluable asset." Warning fights flash to life on the navigation console. The red alert klaxon begins to sound. Data’s fingers fly across the console becoming a blur."Computer, identify the reason for the alert."

The response was immediate.“There is an unknown temporal disturbance, collision is imminent.”
An immeasurable blue vortex opens directly before the shuttlecraft. Even with Data’s inhuman reflexes he is unable alter the ships trajectory before crossing the threshold of the phenomenon. Data desperately struggled to stabilize the shuttle as eldritch energies start to discharge through the interior of the ship. The shuttle emerges from the other end of the anomaly streaking toward an unknown planet. Data has enough time to see that a crash is unavoidable before the energies overload his positronic brain and he loses consciousness.

The Planet of Junk, Space, Somewhere near Earth

Wreck Gar is digging through a large pile of junk for circuit relays. He desperately needs to get the new space liners on-line. More and more rumors have been circulating that Unicron is on the move again. He doesn’t to be caught unprepared should Unicron come for Junkion. A thundering boom echoes across the sky and Wreck Gar looks up, fearing the worst. The panic passes as he realizes that the small object hurtling toward the ground couldn’t possibly be Unicron. Wreck Gar sees that it’s a small ship and watches as it crashes into one of the nearby mountains of junk. He sets of to see what can be salvaged from the wreckage.
Wreck Gar approaches the newly wrecked craft, it is of no design that he is familiar with. It is a small vessel, barely coming up to his knees. The rear hatch has blown off from the impact. He squats down to look inside for usable parts and, as an afterthought, survivors. He sees a small figure splayed across the main console. He snakes his arm inside to get to the pilot of the craft. Energies spark between his hand and the interior of the ship. His hand brushes against the seat and he absently thinks to himself, ‘rich Corinthian leather.’ As his hand comes into contact with the pilot energy slams into him. A blue vortex opens in front of the ship dragging ship, pilot, and Wreck Gar into it.

Starlite Starbrite trailer park, middle of nowhere, Earth.

Alex Rogan is walking down the road toward home. He wants to get in one more game on the new machine the installed outside the store. The Last Starfighter, an excellent game. He can’t seem to quit playing it, no matter how much his mom and Maggie keep telling him to. There is just something about it, almost like it’s his destiny or something. As he slowly rounds a curve in the road he sees that the road is blocked. Thinking it’s an accident he breaks into a run, to see if anyone in the wrecked cars needs help. He slows as he gets closer. It’s not an accident; in fact he doesn’t know what it is. It looks like a giant robot with its hand inside a small space ship. Cautiously he steps to the door on the on the side of the ship that is hanging by one of its hinges. Letting his curiosity get the better of him, Alex slowly steps inside the ship.
The giant robots hand is curled around the pilot’s seat and the pilot is slumped across the controls. Alex leans in over the robots hand trying to feel for a pulse on the pilot. Sparks start to jump between the hand and the pilot. He can’t quite reach the pilot without leaning on the giant hand. He feels a tingling as he comes into contact with the hand. Alex stretches out to feel for a pulse. As soon as his fingers touch the neck of the pilot energy shoots through him. As he passes out a blue vortex opens above them sucking up all of them without leaving a trace.

The Venture Compound, Earth

Brock Samson is in the hanger of the Venture compound detailing his vintage Charger. Hank and Dean are playing a rousing game of tag with H.E.L.P.E.R. much to Brocks dismay. Led Zeppelin is blaring on the radio and he can hardly hear it over H.E.L.P.E.R.s constant beeping. The side door of hanger bursts open and with a fanfare enters Dr. Byron Orpheus.
“Brock Samson, I have come to warn you! There is grave danger afoot! The spirits of the netherworlds have become restless! They speak of unholy Machiavellian machinations! Sinister powers seek to recruit you for unspeakable deeds!” The colorful man proclaims complete with over operatically over exaggerated hand gestures and bold poses.
Brock stares at the overly flamboyant with a look of utter bewilderment. “Uhh, thanks Dr. O, I’ll be sure to keep a look out for those uhh… things.” The opposite door opens and in walks Dr. Thaddeus Venture.
“There you are Brock, I was wondering if you could watch the boys for a while? I have to go do some job for a guy named Badgerspoon. What the hell is a Badgerspoon anyway?” A high pitched keening draws everyone’s attention to the open hanger door. A swirling blue vortex has opened up. Out of it falls a giant robot with a shuttlecraft attached to its arm.
Brock pulls his Bowie knife out of its sheath and yells, “Doc, get the boys to the panic room.” He vaults over the hood of his charger and launches out of the hanger, across the lawn and straight into the side of the shuttlecraft. Seconds later the swirling blue vortex reopens and the robot and ship disappear back into it.
Dr. Venture turns to Dr. Orpheus, “What the hell was that all about?”
“EVIL, Mr. Venture, Evil!” And with a swirl of his cape Dr. Orpheus exits.
“Great now who’s going to watch the boys while I’m gone? Maybe Sergeant Hatred is free.”

Location Unknown

The room is dark and square with no doors or windows. A lone spotlight shines down upon the rooms 4 occupants. Data’s positronic net comes back on-line bringing him back to consciousness; he is lying prone on the floor of a darkened room. He sits up and a momentary wave of panic rushes through him. He decides that it would be advantageous to shut off his emotion chip. With a slight twitch of his head it is deactivated. As the new unexplored emotion subsides he looks around to ascertain the current situation. He sees a giant red and grey robot slumped next to a teenage human male. He turns to look at the other side of the room and a weight crashes into him knocking him back to the floor. A middle aged human male is straddling his chest holding a knife to his throat.
“Who do you work for?” The man shouts at him. “No butterfly suit, so it’s not The Monarch. Baron Underbite? The Zoo Creeper? “A huge grey hand appears and grabs the man pulling him off Data’s chest. The robots other hand comes down and picks Data up off the floor.
“STOP!” A loud voice echoes from everywhere in the room at once. “YOU MUST NOT HARM ONE ANOTHER. I HAVE BROUGHT YOU HERE FOR A REASON.”
The robot looks around the room and says “Bah Weep Gra-Nah Weep Ninni Bong”
The voice booms back, “BAH WEEP GRA-NAH WEEP NINNI BONG.” The giant robot nods and sets Data and Brock down. The teenager sits up holding his head and looks around not believing what he sees. The Voice speaks again. “YOU HAVE BEEN BROUGHT HERE FROM ACROSS THE MULITVERSE. ACROSS TIME AND SPACE. A CHALLENGE HAS BEEN PUT FORTH AND I NEED YOUR SKILLS. WHEN THE TASKS ARE COMPLETED I SHALL RETURN YOU TO THE MOMENTS THAT I HAVE TAKEN YOU FROM. NO TIME SHALL HAVE PASSED, AND YOU MUST TELL NO ONE OF THIS. ALEX ROGAN, YOU ARE OUR PILOT; THE SKILLS YOU HAVE LEARNED FROM THE STARFIGHTER GAME WILL ALLOW YOU TO USE THE NECESSARY VEHICLES. WRECK GAR, YOUR ABILITIES WITH TECHNOLOGY WILL BE NEEDED TO ASSIST THE TEAM THROUGH THE VARYING TASKS. DATA, YOUR KNOWLEDGE OF RECONICENSE WILL BE NEEDED TO GUIDE YOUR TEAM THROUGH ALL TERRAIN. FINALLY BROCK SAMSON, YOUR COMBAT KNOWLEDGE AND FIGHTING SKILLS WILL BE NEEDED TO KEEP YOUR TEAMMATES SAFE FROM HARM.” The unlikely compatriots look skeptically at each other. “GO NOW, YOUR FIRST TASK AWAITS YOU.” The swirling blue vortex opens before them sucking them away.

#7

Team Casilda:
Pilot/Driver: Helva from The Ship Who Sang
Tech: Gaius Baltar
Recon: Elim Garak
Martial Artist: Leeloo

“I’m a damn ship, yet I’m limited in my mobility!” Helva, encased in her impenetrable shell, was Brain without brawn, an organic machine temporarily without her customary human counterpart to assist and share in the minutiae of her day-to-day existence. However, upon her exclamation, Dr. Baltar gave her a most curious smile.

“That is, of course, of no consequence. I can easily…” Baltar’s train of thought wandered briefly, eyes going out of focus, before his attention returned to the holographic projection of an image of might-be-Helva. “Right. You need mobility. I can give it to you. Share your technical specifications with me, and I will be able to adapt you to any and all situations.”

Sensing Helva’s reticence, Baltar rushed ahead. “This will, of course, give you unprecedented independence. In fact, you will be less a ship, and more a mobile brain-vehicle. Trust me, I can do this, so long as you continue to supply me with adequate funds…”

Though reluctant to trust Baltar, Helva’s desire for physical independence outweighed the disadvantages. “Funds are never an issue for me. Please, begin work immediately.” She noticed the Cardassian who had passed Baltar’s information to her lurking outside. She spoke through her current ship’s external speakers, “Garak! You are being creepy. Please, come inside.”

Looking over his shoulder, Garak came up the ramp and into the ship. “I am your most humble servant, Helva. Now, about that project that I had mentioned to you…” he glanced askance at Baltar, busy at work muttering to himself.

“I already told you, Garak, I need to consult privately with Leeloo before we can give you any definitive answer. However, as you might gather that, given Dr. Baltar’s continued presence here, I am giving it serious consideration. Please, help yourself to refreshments while we await her return.”

Helva sent out a call for Leeloo: “I’ve got a big proposal to discuss with you. Won’t make a decision without your input. Return to ship ASAP.” That should be urgent-sounding enough to get her away from whatever it was that was keeping her away so long. Helva and Leeloo hadn’t been partners for long, but they suited one another well. Certainly, Helva couldn’t accept Garak’s proposal to work with him as a mercenary team without Leeloo’s approval. It would, after all, require Leeloo’s particular skill set combined with Helva’s resources to be a success.

“I’ve got it!” Baltar’s crazy eyes shined not at the image projection, but rather towards the portion of the ship where Helva was physically encased. Leeloo gave him a bemused look, having returned from her leave and agreed to Garak’s proposal, along with Helva. “Give me two weeks and you’ll be the most mobile Brain ever. It was of course a great challenge, and if you hadn’t come to me it wouldn’t have been possib…”

“Very well. Transmit the data and we’ll begin work on the conversion. Leeloo will be able to perform…”

“Oh, no! I must do it! I’m the only one…”

Helva interrupted his hubris with a derisive laugh. “Leeloo will assimilate the necessary information. I am sending it to her station now. You may observe.”

Baltar sat back, confounded. After a few minutes of watching Leeloo learn, his scientific curiosity (or his sense of self-importance) got the better of him, and he moved over to speak with her. Upon further conversation with him, Leeloo, her English greatly improved, had a hunch that this Baltar fellow wasn’t completely useless, and in fact, could make a valuable contribution to their team. She mentioned it to Helva on their private channel, and asked her to take the matter up with Garak when she got the chance.

A few weeks later, Helva was outfitted in her newly independent and mobile interface. Thanks to Baltar’s genius, she could now interface directly with any technology and adapt her controls to its needs. She had never felt so free!

With the new interface on her ship up and running, Leeloo and Garak got settled aboard. “Where is Dr. Baltar? Did he not want to see the results of his experiment?” Helva felt anxious that Baltar was not present. Though Leeloo was quite able to absorb information, Baltar’s knack for innovation was extremely attractive, and the more she thought about it, the more she wanted him along for the ride.

Sirens blared from the spaceport. Quickly linking in to the police feeds, she realized that Baltar was, in fact, fleeing from some sort of legal trouble. She lowered the ramp, and he quickly moved up it. Garak looked surprised to see him. “Change of heart?,” he asked Baltar.

“Well, let’s go, then.” Baltar gasped, out of breath. Helva, seeing the police coming at her, happily complied and lifted off.

“Where shall we head first, team?” Garak gave Baltar a sideways look as he responded to Helva’s inquiry.

“Oh, let’s start our adventures on a little ball of dirt called Earth.”

Baltar blanched.

#8

“Bingo” Fisher said to himself as he used his knife to pry the hard drive from it’s cage. He slipped it into his pocket and crept towards the door. Through the crack he can see the guards are still preoccupied with the same hookers and vodka that allowed him to slip in. Back in the day, it never would have been this easy. The Soviets were disciplined. A guy really had to work his ass off in this business, or he’d lose it. Now it’s all run by gangsters. A bunch of soft kids working for ex KGB officers who took control of the criminal underworld as soon as the system started crumbling.
There weren’t any real challenges left in the world. The middle east was disorganized with so many different factions fighting amongst themselves, North Korea was too busy distracting the people from the fact that they were too poor to feed them, China was so damn big no one knew what anyone else was supposed to be doing, and Latin America was a cakewalk for the guy with the deepest pockets.
That’s why he’d put in for the transfer. Some sort of new unit was recruiting operators. He didn’t know who or what for, and if he didn’t know about it, it had to be tight shit. Sam Fisher had been at the top of the Special Operations game for 20 years. He knew about everyone.
“Status report.” Fisher’s earpiece barked. “Don’t worry Lambert, I’ve got the package. I have one loose end to tie up and I’m on my way back.” “No, you don’t. You don’t do a god damned thing that isn’t in your mission brief, do you hear me?” “What’s that Lambert? You’re breaking up.” Sam dropped the earpiece into his pocket. He didn’t have any patience for self serving bureaucrats, and Lambert was at the top of that compost pile. He slipped out the door and headed for the girl’s room. In the three weeks he’d had Vladimir Sulkov under surveillance he’d developed a soft spot for Lena, a sweet, naive girl from the Ukraine. Sulkov liked’em young, that was for sure. She wasn’t much older than his own daughter, and far to delicate to be left here with the wolves. He’d spent the last several days covertly arranging for assets to be transferred into her name. As he entered her room, she froze. “Get your coat” Fisher told her. She opened the envelope he put in her hand. There was a passport, some cash and a key. Sam opened the window and looked out. Satisfied, he motioned her to him. “You’re going.” “Where?” she asked. “Vienna” he replied. “Then what?” Fisher pointed at the key in her hand. He turned the tag where she could see it had an address on it. “You take that key to the bank on that tag.” “And?” “And, you’re rich. Rich and free. After that, it’s not my problem.” He lifted her up and out the window. He followed, and he walked her down the street. He flagged down a taxi, and they headed to the airport where he’d put her on a plane and then go meet Lambert. With bits of Sulkov’s windpipe drying on his knife, she was free of him. With the ink drying on his reassignment paperwork back at the Pentagon, he would would soon free of Lambert.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Donovan. Please walk with me, we’re pressed for time.”

“It’s not like I had much choice, Artie said something about my employment contract.”

“Yes. I’m sorry about that, but we’re really in a bind here, and you have a extraordinary skillset. Don’t worry, you’ll be well compensated. You’ll get a temporary increase to GS15, plus a nice bonus in your retirement account. For the next few days, you’ll be making more than I do.”

Claudia looks at the 3 stars on his lapel and wonders how much that is, exactly.
As they near the door at the end of the hall she wonders what kind of weirdness this is going to entail. “What was your name again?” “Hammond. If you will please, Miss Donovan.” He opens the door and gestures towards the room inside.
Claudia sits at a conference table with a handsome Marine Officer whom she assumes to be a pilot judging by the wings on his uniform and a somewhat grizzly man in unmarked fatigues that, quite frankly, comforts her and terrifies her at the same time. Against the wall, there is an occupied chair in the shadows. Claudia stares at the strange figure in the brown robe, and wonders if he’s one of the chanting monks on her iPhone.

“Thank you all for coming. You’ve all been assigned to work in Special Operations Command Special Missions Division with myself and Mr Smith. I’m your liaison to the military, and Mr Smith is your liaison to our intelligence community.
Cpt Hiller will be your transport officer, he will be tasked with any vehicle needs you may have. He’ll get the team in and out.
Miss Donovan is your technical support officer. She has an extensive knowledge of computer systems and advanced devices. If you need something hacked, repaired, disabled or made, she’s your man.
Mr Fisher is your recon and infiltration specialist. If you need to see it, he’ll show you. If you need in, he’ll get there.”
“What about him?” Sam Fisher has never been one to mince words, pull punches or let and uncomfortable silence go too long. Mr Smith’s cool, creepy voice is a striking counterpoint to Fisher’s gruff, brash tone. “That’s Mr Kenobi. He’ll be working with you as well.”
“And? What’s he do?” Fisher asked defiantly. “We umm” Hammond stumbled over his words awkwardly “Well, we don’t really know what he does.”
“Great.”

“Now that all the pleasantries are out of the way, I already have your first assignment.” Mr Smith said, as he handed out folders.

#9

Colonel Rhodes walked into the staging room, three file folders tucked under his arm. Ensemble teams were nothing new for him, being a long time Avenger. Now would, however, be his first command of such a team.

The first person to introduce themself was the blonde woman in the USAF dress blues. “Colonel Carter?”, Rhodes asked her. “Glad to finally meet you, Colonel Rhodes”, she said with an extended hand. " I’m honored to finally meet the legend", he said shaking her hand," I don’t think even Thor has managed to blow up a sun."

“Awww, geez, not this again. I’ve had to spend most of my career trying to top that.”

Rhodes laughed," I can imagine that being pretty difficult. Are you OK with me being in command?"

“Fine by me. Your experience is more combat oriented than mine.”

“Great. Your file says your a world class physicist and technician. Your reputation says your a friggin mirracle worker.”

“I have my moments”, Carter conceded a little ego.

Rhodes turned to the next member of the team, “You must be the liason from MI6.”

“The name’s bond. James Bond.” His blonde hair, blue eyes and easy smile portrayed a boyish mischief, but behind the eyes was the stare of a hardened operator. His extensive, but heavily blacked out file confirmed this.

“Yes, Commander Bond, your service record was quite impressive. At least, the parts I was cleared to read.”

“Yes, sorry about all that, Colonel. While our countries do enjoy a Special Relationship, Her Majesty’s Secret Service still wish to keep some cards up our sleeves. Much in the same way your country hasn’t shared the identity of Chatty Cathy in black over there.”

Bond was refering to the martial artist rounding out the team. “Don’t feel bad, Commander, Uncle Sam hasn’t even told me much about Snake Eyes. I know he has extensive experience in Black Ops with some super secret division. He’s highly decorated, even though most of those medal and patches are locked in a vault in the Pentagon. He’s trained in ninjitsu and may be the best covert op ever to hit the field. All that and he plays a hell of a game of charades.”

Rhodes addressed the entire group," We’ve been selected to take on some of the most dangerous, secretive and important missions. The kind where failure can mean the end of the world. Are you all up to that?"

“YES, SIR!”

“Excellent. Let’s get to work.”

I decided to run with Black Ops theme and go with some covert military operators. I really like the fact that each team member can fill out several roles, even though Snake Eyes is probably the only true martial artist. Rhodes, Carter and Bond are all accomplished pilots. All four are experienced with many different conventional weapons.

Pilot: James Rhodes/War Machine A decorated Air Force Veteran who has piloted some of the most advanced vehicles in this world and several others. While he’s not nearly the technical genius that Tony Stark or Smantha Carter are, he’s more than capable of patching up most conventional machines. Plus, he has the War Machine armor.

Tech/ weapons expert: Samantha Carter/ Stargate SG-1 Another highly decorated Air Force officer, Sam was already a renowned physicist before joining Stargate Command. Since then, she’s worked on technology of civilizations far more advanced than present humans, adapting it help defend Earth from powerful alien threats. She is also an accomplished astronaut and has piloted several types of Earth and alien craft. she not only brings a vast knowledge of Earth based technology, but also the technical know how of civilizations like the Ancients and Asgard.

Recon: Daniel Crag era James Bond Commander Bond earned a reputation as a top notch officer in the Royal Navy. He was later transferred to intelligence where he exceled and caught the attention of MI6. After several successful missions, he was sent on the assignment which would earn him the coveted “00” status. While he has demonstrated a problem with authority, he is the best agent in the Secret Services and does not hesitate to put it all on the line for Queen and Country. ( I went with Craig’s Bond because Connery was already taken and I think Craig does the best job of selling Bond military background and his job as a government assassin. But Dalton wasn’t half bad in that respect either)

Martial Arts Expert: Snake Eyes GI Joe Comic Book The man known as Snake Eyes was a decorated soldier part of one of the Army’s LRRP units in South East Asia. Upon his arrival home after his tour of duty, he learned his family had been killed by a drunk driver, leaving him alone in the world. His friend from the LRRP unit, Tommy, had invited him to join the family business, which turned out to be a clan of ninjas. Snake Eyes rose through the ranks and distinguished himself as the best swordsman in the clan. After an assassin (who appeared to be Tommy) murdered the head of the clan, Hard Master, Snake Eyes heads back to the States and is recruited into a new covert ops unit, GI Joe. On an early mission, a helicopter crash severed Snake Eyes’ vocal chords and left his face horribly scarred. He still managed to complete the mission and has since used the inuries as fuel to become the best covert ops agent in the world. (And if you read the end of the Marvel run of the GI Joe, you’ll see SE’s ninja abilites reach damn near Jedi level).

#10

The discussion thread is where you should have declared your team. And 2 of your team members (Carter & Snake Eyes) are already taken in the In-Play draft.

Check out the Brackets thread to see what players have been declared already: http://forum.galacticwatercooler.com/showthread.php?t=11220

#11

Crap my bad. Newbie goof.

#12

No problem on being a Noob! We all were once. :smiley: Just wanted to point you in the right direction.

Welcome to the forum!

#13

Thanks. Hopefully, I’ve sufficiently corrected it.

#14

It is inevitable that the team will suffer a break up, and it will not be pretty… So in honor of that eventual event I offer-

One of these days… Bam! Zoom! To the Moon!

Wesley’s voice whispered in Fox’s earpiece, “You are approaching her last known location, do you see anything?” She spun around artfully with her pistols drawn and ready as she took in the scene, “Just a buncha empty classrooms,” she looked up and down the empty halls, “the gunfire has vacated the place dammed fast there ain’t a soul here,” she fired a few rounds into a some lockers in frustration, “the brat is f&%kin smart,” she kicked open a closet and peered inside, “what better place for a kid to disappear in than a f@#king school!” She ran toward a stairwell cursing under her breath and thinking about the previous months, Hitgirl and been showing signs of developing a conscience and drifting apart from the evil underground society to which she and Wesley belonged. She had warned Seltzer that Hitgirl would bolt if given the right circumstances, and now she had…

She leaned over the guardrail and spoke into her mike, “Still nothing from her suit?” Seltzer grumbled back, “No, I don’t understand how she disabled the tracking systems on it. Drop down to the ground floor, maybe she is using the machine shop or computer center’s EM noise to mask her emissions.” Fox jumped between the spiraling stairs and used the repulsor belt to slow her decent and thought on the way down, “She picked the perfect world to hide on, this parallel Earth seems to be protected by a God like being. I have never seen Seltzer so nervous…”

Wesley called out, “I have something, a trace in the Science building!” Seltzer confirmed, “Indeed, I have life signs and full status signals coming in on my board, the suit is broadcasting again.” Fox ran hard for the Science building thinking, “I have been waiting a long time to put down that snotty little brat.” Seltzer called out, “Wesley, are you close enough to use the ‘sleeper signal’?” Fox screamed, “No! I want to cap her ass, don’t you dare steal this kill from me!” Wesley could be heard grumbling, “Yeah, I am in range. But Professor it is kind of an impersonal way to off a former member of our…” The Professor cut him off, “We are on borrowed time here; our technology is well beyond anything this backwards Earth has. I fear if we tarry too long our presence will be detected by damned entity the government uses, we must hurry.” Wesley’s voice sounded weary and reluctant, “Fine… Sending the kill code now,” after a long sigh, “she should be down now…” The Professor’s voice was curt, “Yes, her life signs have stopped, Fox you are closest. Go and confirm the kill, then activate her suits scuttling charges, I do not want our technology falling into these peoples hands.”

Fox found the body in the hallway; the suit looked like a small version of Wesley’s high tech Kill Suit. She turned the body over with the toe of her stylish boot; an unfamiliar Asian face looked up at her from beneath the trademark purple wig. Fox froze in shock and fear; she could feel the eyes of the tiny assassin watching her from the darkness. The Professor barked at Fox in her earpiece, “Fox, do you confirm the kill? I read you on my screen as being on top of the body, what is the delay?” Fox smirked and thought, “Smart kid… Switched the suit with some unfortunate slant.” Again her earpiece tormented her, “Fox, what the Hell? Are you deaf?” Fox grimaced, “Confirmed, now will you shut the f&%k up already? The little princess is f@#king dead; you’re giving me a damned headache. I’ll set the charges and meet you by the football field, Fox out.” She killed the power on her headset. She stood in silence, waiting for the kill shot to come, but; … it never did. Fox put her pistols away, and pondered what to do next… return the favor?

She sighed and wearily knelt down and pulled the wig off and tossed it clear of the scuttling charges range of effect, she also tossed a few of Hitgirl’s favorite weapons clear as well. After activating the fuses she stood, and without looking over her shoulder she spoke loud enough for the concealed killer to hear, “Good luck kid, I hope you like your new home. You’ll be safe here, Seltzer is scared sh$#less of this place. We’ll likely never be back… Goodbye.”

2 years later-

The young lady formerly known as Hitgirl cleaned her weapons and replaced them in her sheaths, she stepped over the dead bodies of the black militants and checked the duffle bag. Her handler had been right; it was full of explosives and detonators. They had been planning something big; she took pictures of it and the bodies for evidence and then moved over to the eastern portion of the rooftop to await her pick up. Working for the CIA had its perks, the pay was great. And she had every convenience a kid could ever want, but the problem was twofold, first she did not entirely trust her bosses. It was great helping her country and all, but some of the people she was sent to silence did not seem like violent extremists. Some just seemed like, well… Idealists. And second, this world was 40 years older than the world she had left. Culturally, musically and worst of all technologically.

A beam of light enveloped her; she turned to see its source. Instead of the usual black helicopter she had come to expect an Owl shaped craft hovered silently above the building. The glowing plumes from its maneuvering thrusters sent warm air in her direction, a welcome sensation from the icy cold air which had tormented her aching muscles all evening. The side door opened and the craft moved closer in a non threatening fashion, a woman in a skin tight costumed leaned out of the open door. Her hair was jostled by the engines wake and framed by the cockpits gentle light, “So the rumors were true,” the sultry woman descended the unfolding stairs and stepped onto the tarpapered roof, “the word going around was that someone had taken over the Comedian’s job after his untimely death.” The woman paced back and forth studying the purple haired girl, “I just didn’t expect his replacement to be so… young.”

The young lady smiled and put a candy cigar into her mouth, “A girl is less threatening, and can get into places a full grown man couldn’t,” she shrugged, “besides, people always underestimate women.” The Silk Specter laughed, “They do at that,” she jerked a thumb in the direction of the Owl ship, “We’re on our way to bust a friend out of prison, want to come along? Lots of bad guys to beat up…” The young lady cracked her knuckles with glee, “Sounds like fun!” Silk Specter stepped aside, “Well then, welcome aboard, ah…” She scratched her head, “I’m sorry, but, what shall we call you?”

She grinned widely as she climbed onboard and twirled her candy cigar, “The Comedienne.” As the Silk Specter retracted the ladder she nodded, “I like it.” The Owl ship slowly turned and the Night owl noticed that a few of the bodies had items placed on their faces, he called back over his shoulder, “Groucho glasses?” The Comedienne smirked, “I guess you could call them my ‘calling cards’.” The pilot chuckled, “He would be proud, nice touch.” As the long haired seductress sat beside her friend she turned on the radio, it was a typical top 40 station, British pop began to fill the cabin. The twelve year old squirmed and muttered, “Jesus, I am sooo sick of this retro shit…” The two in front exchanged a look and turned to her, “Retro?” She sank in her chair and sighed dejectedly, “Oh,… I’ll explain later.”

#15

If anyone was offended by the racial slur in the above story (I know I was) I apologize, but it was appropriate to the character and so I left it in. There are two ways that those who deal out death on a regular basis deal mentally with it.

  1. Depersonalization.
    This is commonly used by Pilots, snipers, gunners and artillery men. If you have ever watched war footage and listened to the radio chatter you will hear them using terms such as: Target, subject, hostile, bandit, bogey. This distances the soldier from his target mentally, using such clinical and cold language helps to depersonalize the enemy and creates an almost video game like quality to the situation.

  2. Dehumanization.
    This is used mostly by grunts and mercenaries, people who have to get up close and personal to the enemy. The use of racial slurs, derogatory nicknames and slang turn the enemy into something less than human in their minds. Making them into caricatures of who they really are, thereby making it easier to kill them.

This where Fox would mentally be, she does not see people as people. She characterizes them as racist stereotypes and as crude caricatures of what they really are. So when she turned over what she thought was Hitgirl’s body and was greeted instead with an unfamiliar face, she could not allow herself emotionally to see the victim as some Mother’s child. But instead degraded the unfortunate victim to a mere racial slur rather than dealing with the horror of what she had found.

I hope this explains the use of such language on my part.

#16

Finally got around to actually writing this out. I might do some interludes later for between and during missions. I hope the few little in-jokes and references I put in keep it from being too dry.


"Well, this trip was a waste of time," Rodney grumbled.  "Even Zalenka should have been able to figure out that…"

He stopped talking, suddenly realizing that he wasn't back in the Atlantis gateroom.  In fact, the room didn't even have a Stargate in it.

"Doctor McKay, please step down from the Multiverse Transposition Array.  I still have one more person to retrieve," an unseen voice said.

"Multiverse Transposition Array?" Rodney asked, stepping down from the raised platform that took up half of the small room.

"I will explain everything once the last member of the team arrives," the voice answered.  

Rodney stepped through the room's only door and saw a man wearing a black and red uniform with… "This is a joke, right?"

"I'm as in the dark as you are," the man replied.  "Lieutenant Tom Paris of the Federation starship [i]Voyager[/i]."

Rodney looked around the room, which looked like a large living room.  [i]Well, I suppose this isn't the weirdest experience I've ever had.[/i]  "Doctor Rodney McKay," he replied.

"So, doc, any idea why we're here, or for that matter, where here is?" Paris asked.

Before Rodney could answer, he heard the door open again behind him.  He turned, and his jaw dropped. [i] I never thought I'd ever meet anyone more beautiful than Sam.[/i]

Before he could find his voice, Tom introduced himself to the attractive blond woman.  "I'm Tom Paris.  And you are?"

"Sarah Walker.  Have we met before?  You look familiar, but I'm not sure where from," the woman said.

"No, I'm pretty sure I'd remember someone as beautiful as you," the Starfleet officer answered.

"And I'm Doctor Rodney McKay," Rodney cut in.  

The door opened again, and a formidable looking readhead walked out.  Again, Rodney was stunned, this time by the cylindrical device on her belt.  "You've got to be kidding me."

They all introduced themselves again, then the disembodied voice spoke again.  "Now that you are all here, I have a great deal to explain.  I have brought you here to help deal with disturbances affecting the multiverse."

"Multiverse?" Sarah asked.

"Have you ever heard the theory that for every decision you make, there's a version of you that made the opposite decision in a different universe?" Rodney asked.

"Sounds like science fiction to me.  Like that Quantum Leap show that Chuck said his father liked," Sarah responded.  "Whether I hit the snooze button or not hardly seems like something that would create a whole different universe."

The voice cut in.  "And in most cases, you'd be right, Agent Walker.  The change would be so minor as to hardly be noticeable.  However, say that you hit the snooze button last Christmas Eve.  You would have been caught in a traffic accident caused by the chase of Ned Rhyerson.  If you didn't make it to the Buy More, Fulcrum would have captured Chuck and they would have an operational Intersect.

"You could have just asked instead of shanghaiing us," Rodney suggested.

"When you are done, I will return you to the exact moment I took you from.  It will be especially easy to return you and Lieutenant Paris," the voice said.

"If you're so powerful, why don't you just fix the problems yourself?" Mara asked.

"I cannot interfere directly," the voice responded.

"I've heard that before," Rodney replied, rolling his eyes.

"Though not for the reasons you believe, Doctor McKay," the voice said.  "It is not a question of morals.  I believe another of my race is responsible for what is happening, and while you are fixing the problems, I will be tracking down the person who is causing them and bringing him to justice."

"And how are we going to solve these problems?" Tom asked.  

"I can retrieve any equipment you need that is small enough to fit in the room you entered through.  In some cases, I will be able to put you directly into contact with people in authority to deal with the situation."

Sarah interrupted.  "So, if this 'multiverse' contains all possible choices, then how do you know something is wrong?"

"My people see the multiverse as you see your own worlds.  We see where universes branch substantially and nexus points where they become parallel again," the voice explained.  "We saw how the pilot of an Alteran refugee ship transposed two coordinates and ended up in a completely different galaxy from where his people planned to flee to.  That was the branch point between Rodney and Mara's timelines.  In Rodney's reality, after introducing life to his galaxy, the Alterans were struck by a plague and many of them died.  In Mara's reality, where the error occurred, they instead evolved further physically, while at the same time, blending with their creations."

"Are you telling us that the Jedi descended from the Ancients?" Rodney asked.  "You know, that makes a certain amount of sense.  We've seen people with the ATA gene demonstrate telekinesis, precognition, and even telepathy."

"Even the weakest human Jedi has a stronger manifestation of what you call the ATA gene than your General O'Neill and Colonel Sheppard combined," the voice told him. "The powers the Jedi wield would be too much for them, as you should know from your own experience."

"Sorry, you lost me there," Tom said.  "You're saying that only one decision separated their realities?"

"That branch point was millions of years in both of their pasts.  The almost infinite number of decisions made since then pushed them even farther apart," the voice said.  "I have provided accommodations that should be sufficient for all of you, as well as a lab, a gym, and a firing range.  Make yourselves at home, and hopefully we can resolve this situation quickly."