ACTION, ADVENTURE, EXCITEMENT PART I - Ch. 5 Date: Sat, 19 Oct 1996 03:16:13 -0500 (45578 & 1) From: Michael Jon Knight The KnightShift watches through the airlock as the shuttle from the _Populous_ eenters the bay. As the shuttlebay repressurizes, the KnightShift glences at his watch. Three minutes exactly. (The _Populous_, captained by a now-sane Humanity from the TRIAL thread, has sent a shuttle to pick up the KnightShift and any remaining Callahanians. If you don't remember reading this, it is from a post, apparently lost by the terrors hidden in my newsfeed. If you want a copy, send me a note requesting it. This is referred to hereafter as "The Lost Episode".) The KnightShift's boots clank as they stride quickly across the bay. As he approachs the shuttle, the side door opens, and he hears a quiet conversation floating across the empty bay. "Who are we here to pick up?" "Dunno, some friends of the Captain." "Great...We get to play body guard to a bunch of losers, I'm guessing." "I hear the Captain had an interesting past." "You mean about her being committed?...Aw, JEEZ! They're probably 'friends' from the funny farm!" "SQUAD! FALL IN!" This last was from KnightShift, who by now is outside the shuttle, steaming visibly. As the Security Squad lines up (more from "The Lost Episode") the look of surprise and shock at seeing the KnightShift, bald head, black uniform, captain's insignia, turns into embarrassment as they realize THIS is one of the losers. "From this time forward, you will address me as Sir. You will extend the same courtesy to the rest of this team. *Do I make myself clear?* *Your captain*, someone I respect greatly, has seen more wars than the bunch of you together. You should feel honored to serve in the same fleet. *And the proper pronoun is H-I-R*. Now this squad had better shape up, or I will personally see to it that you all spend the rest of your exploration voyage in the brig! I want to see this shuttle ready to hit the atmosphere in two minutes. And get me a copy of the manifest. You have no idea what you are about to face." /For that matter, neither do I.../ the KnightShift thinks. "Expect a briefing as soon as we are clear of the Exeter. By the time we hit atmosphere, have all weapons ready with plenty of spare clips." Two minutes and fifteen seconds later, the shuttle is headed for Oa's atmosphere. The KnightShift pilots the ship while explaining what he knows to the troops. The briefing is just coming to a close when the first wave of turbulance hits as the shuttle plunges into the atmosphere. "Aren't we coming in a bit steep, sir?" the copilot asks nervously. "Yup. We are," the KnightShift replies coolly. "Trust me. We'll be fine. I think..." Though only the copilot sees it, the KnightShift has a huge grin. But his voice doesn't betray his mood. He sounds professional. He looks maniacally happy. /I love flights like this./ At nine minutes, the shuttle's course, to the great joy of the rest of the crew, has leveled off. The red canyons of Oa rush past as the KnightShift skillfully pilots the shuttle across the barren landscape. Suddenly, a majestic, green, and *very large* tower loomed in front of the shuttle. A sharp bank right and the shuttle headed for the remainder of the castle and the flaring sensor reading of the Oan Battery. "Hold on to everything you hold dear...we're landing," the KnightShift said, with no trace of professionalism. He was having fun! The shuttle was slowing and descending rapidly. As it approached the Callahanian's encampment, the KnightShift shut off all forward thrust, putting full power into braking thrusters. At nine minutes and forty-nine seconds, the shuttle was hovering above a clearing not twenty feet from the camp. Kicking up a cloud of dust, the shuttle landed on Oa. The KnightShift glanced at his watch as he left the shuttle and approached his comrades. "Damn...5 seconds late." The KnightShift, who, though blind, was told he had an aptitude for flying. :) Well...it fit my goals a good job should have. :) =========================== Date: Sat, 19 Oct 1996 13:38:02 -0500 (45588 & 2) From: grammarfascist On Fri, 18 Oct 1996, Gareth Owen wrote: >As the others start arguing he turns and slowly walks away. Head >hanging down. > >"Innocent blood, oh god." Shadow follows him quietly. When the Stranger stops, the K'therr, in the manner approved and time-honored by felines everywhere, he twines between the man's feet with a questioning mew. Shadow, of course, is not your ordinary feline... so when the Stranger looks down, he stretches his wings and slowly flies up to a level where he can look into the other's eyes. Gently, he reaches out with a soft paw and touches the Stranger's cheek. "It's all right," he says softly. "You did what you had to, what you were meant to and forced to--and I'll lay money that those men, somehow, aren't dead or even hurt, just somewhere safe until this is all over. They served a purpose too." And for the first time in his life, Shadow settles down on the right shoulder of someone other than Silence, purring soothingly, his calmness adding the weight of truth, or at least conviction, to his words. Silence can only watch, and listen. When she lets herself move again, she pulls away from the group as well, sitting down on a rock (and thinking idly just how much she is growing to loathe the color red). Her wristknife snaps into her right palm, and she tests the edge of it gently. /Healer,/ she thinks numbly. /You call yourself a healer./ /Liar is a better word for it./ She looks up at the Stranger, who seems a bit more relaxed now. Her face is calm too, but the sudden wave of self-loathing that pours through her mind backlashes enough so that anyone with even rudimentary telepathy can feel it. With conscious effort, she pulls herself back under control. /Time enough for that later, if I survive. Not that I really want to--but I have to. I have to./ Forcing her mind onto the single track of duty and honor, Silence walks back to the group and settles herself cross-legged on the sand. =========================== Date: Sun, 20 Oct 1996 11:01:01 -0700 (45671 & 3) From: "L.J. Wolfe" Subject: A post for a friend Driscoll e-mailed this to me and asked me to post it in his behalf (server problems). For those of you who don't know who he is or what's up, go back and look at the "Hello: A new face" thread. (That's also where Morgan's been recently. I can pop backover here through an x-window if I'm needed.) Since his news server isn't working, I don't think he realizes that pretty much everyone is planetside now. If he did, he probably would have said "sand" instead of "deck." I think the assumption was that his door opened wherever most of the Callahanians are. Morgan /|\ BEGIN POST Everyone quits talking for a moment as a shimmering doorway appears and a well dressed man weilding a rapier and being followed by a wolf run through it. "Excuse me, sorry to intrude, you see I was just sitting with some old freinds in a bar when..." He is inturrupted by a crackle of energy as a crash as two parital table- tops, a mug of ale and a large section of Mike's floor crash to the deck surrounding four figures in shiny red body armor, "Stop thief! Return the Computer's Property!" They yell firign a couple shots from their lasers at the newcomer. The newcomer starts running towards the door out of the room when one of the red figures raises a large weapon to his shoulder, "Time to see what this R&D Salad Shooter can do!" Sliced tomatoes begin flying from it, slapping into Driscoll's cloaked back. "Hey! do you know how hard this can be to clean?" he yells whirling around and reaching into his cloak. His hand returns with a small crystal sphere that appears to be half filled with blue liquid and half filled with red. Hurling the sphere at the figure with the Salad Shooter, it smashes against his armor and he erupts in white-hot flames immediately, leaving only a smoking boot and a melted salad shooter. Reaching into his coak again, the shimmering doorway re-appears in front of Driscoll and he and the wolf dive through it just as one of the laser blasts finds it's mark directly in the middle of his back. The doorway closes before anyone can see if he still stands or not. One of the three figures begins playing with the antenni of a large black box and with a crackle of energy, they are gone, along with a bowl shaped portion of the deck. END POST =========================== Date: 20 Oct 1996 17:28:58 GMT (45665 & 4) From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) grammarfascist wrote: >For those as don't know, I'll be doing all the posting to this thread >from now on, via a mailing list. Keep watching--things are >_definitely_ heating up. Thanks muchly, lady Rose! >The shuttle was slowing and descending rapidly. As it approached the >Callahanian's encampment, the KnightShift shut off all forward >thrust, putting full power into braking thrusters. At nine minutes >and forty-nine seconds, the shuttle was hovering above a clearing not >twenty feet from the camp. Kicking up a cloud of dust, the shuttle >landed on Oa. The KnightShift glanced at his watch as he left the >shuttle and approached his comrades. > >"Damn...5 seconds late." > >The KnightShift, who, though blind, was told he had an aptitude for >flying. :) Well...it fit my goals a good job should have. :) Roland jumps, startled, as the shuttle lands. "Grife." ("Do I have the right to say that now that I'm not Cos?") Roland concentrates, melding his own mental powers with the near-omnipotence of the Power Ring... ...and a suit of armor, familiar to Roland, forms. It is in the same area that Gruber is, and seems to move of its own accord. When it gestures at the cannon fodder (and sometimes when it doesn't), they jump. Even the Manhunters. It seems to turn to notice Roland, and though, there is no head (nor even a helmet) the impression of a smile is apparent before a brief flash of light wipes out the scene. "Bloody Nass. I knew that whole bit with Sinestro was too sprocking easy. "Gentlefolx, we've been suckered. That was the Parallax armor. I thought that Sinestro had been filling it, but... oh, grife, let's just set up, and for Light's sake, if you get his-its-attention, call for help!" Roland sighs. "Well, I suppose we should decide who says what gets set up. Stranger?" /Why aren't we dead?/ Roland thinks desperately. /If Parallax is-wait. Parallax ate the Battery! If the Battery is where it belongs, then Parallax isn't as all-powerful as he-it-was! We have a chance after all!/ *That's nice, Roland, but please don't think so loud. My headache is bad enough as it is.* Roland blushes as a few laughs finally emerge from the camp. Then he smiles weakly. "Okay, so I'm still new at this full-blown telepathy thing. I'll practice after we send the Adversary back to his nightmare realm." =========================== From: glo@io.com (Gareth Owen) Date: Thu, 24 Oct 1996 22:49:07 GMT (46328 & 5) From: Gareth Owen On Sat, 19 Oct 1996 13:38:02 -0500, you wrote: >Shadow, of course, is not your ordinary feline... so when the >Stranger looks down, he stretches his wings and slowly flies up to a >level where he can look into the other's eyes. Gently, he reaches out >with a soft paw and touches the Stranger's cheek. "It's all right," >he says softly. "You did what you had to, what you were meant to and >forced to--and I'll lay money that those men, somehow, aren't dead or >even hurt, just somewhere safe until this is all over. They served a >purpose too." "I wish I could believe that" >And for the first time in his life, Shadow settles down on the right >shoulder of someone other than Silence, purring soothingly, his >calmness adding the weight of truth, or at least conviction, to his >words. "He's beaten me, little one, without even firing a shot. If we go into combat, I'll hesitate, and that's no use." "And yet, what good is a warrior who wont fight?" >/Time enough for that later, if I survive. Not that I really want >to--but I have to. I have to./ Forcing her mind onto the single track >of duty and honor, Silence walks back to the group and settles >herself cross-legged on the sand. The Stranger watches her. "I can't allow him to win, no matter what the cost, I guess. Hmph, whatever it takes. No, I will not let him beat me, certainly not like this." The Stranger turns and strides back to the group, he looks more confident. "You're not making friends Gruber." =========================== Date: Thu, 24 Oct 1996 20:58:35 -0500 (46329 & 6) From: grammarfascist On Thu, 24 Oct 1996, Gareth Owen wrote: >"And yet, what good is a warrior who wont fight?" "No good as a warrior, perhaps," Shadow says quietly. "But more good than one who fools himself into thinking he can when he can't. At least you know your own fears. Now you can confront them--and beat them. Can and will." >The Stranger watches her. > >"I can't allow him to win, no matter what the cost, I guess. Hmph, >whatever it takes. No, I will not let him beat me, certainly not like >this." Silence nods, not even knowing whether the Stranger is speaking aloud or with his mind; it no longer matters. "There's time for regret and self-recrimination later," she repeats, speaking out loud this time. "Right now, we all have to stay together." She's telling herself as much as anyone else, repeating the words like a mantra, locking her fears as far away as she can. >The Stranger turns and strides back to the group, he looks more >confident. Shadow jumps down off of the other's shoulder, braking a bit with his wings, and sits down between Silence and the Stranger. He looks around; everyone seems to be there, formed into a rough circle. There is a strange sense of... completion in the air. Unbidden, the image of Dion's nemeton comes to Shadow's mind, and his companions resemble nothing so much as the standing stones, braced and strong and ready to endure anything that Nature or her children can throw at them. =========================== From: Michael Jon Knight Date: Fri, 25 Oct 1996 02:34:00 -0500 (46431 & 7) The KnightShift stands deep in thought. The security team, who have turned out to be very good, is busy setting up the shuttle as a command center. A security perimeter has been established, and the area surrounding the shuttle is bustling with activity. The KnightShift steps away from the circle, heading for a clearing to the north of the camp. As he passes behind a large group of boulders, out of sight of the group, he removes his black backpack and uniform jacket. Stuffing the jacket into the pack, the KnightShift scans the horizon. A cold gust of wind creates a chill behind his ears and on the back of his shaved head. The sleeveless black tee he wears feels a bit cool now, but the KnightShift doesn't notice. His mind is elsewhere. /Dreams...Shadows...Reflections...I can feel the resolution coming like a freight train, but how will it end? The answers we seek are not far, very close in fact, as if on the tip of my tongue. Fiction twisting. Psychics, magic...I have never believed in them. I never saw anything I couldn't explain, in the real world. But, I'm not in the real world now. Magic may not work out there, but here...?/ The KnightShift gathers a group of small stones into a circle. In the center, he places a small pile of dried wood. Digging through his backpack, the KnightShift finds a small leather pouch and a Zippo lighter. He lights the dried wood, starting a small fire. He sits down, legs crossed, in front of it. From the leather pouch, the KnightShift pulls a bundle of sweetgrass and throws it on the fire. "Old Man, you have sent me here for a reason...help me learn what it is. If I ever needed a sign, it is now." The KnightShift throws a powder into the flames, which promptly flare on contact. The flames turn red, then blue, then green. As the smoke rises, a shadowy figure can be seen in the smoke. As the image gets stronger, it becomes recognizable. It is the face of...the KnightShift. The rest of the ghostly body of the KnightShift forms above the flames. But this Ghost is not the KnightShift. The Ghost has long hair, pulled into a ponytail, with a few strands hanging loose from his forehead. These locks have a large bonepipe bead and feather tied in them. The Ghost has a stubbled beard. As more of the Ghost's body forms, his clothes appear to be a mix of Blackfoot from the North American Plains and the Clans from the Highlands of Scotland. A Scottish Claymore hangs from his belt, next to a tomahawk. The Ghost wears a buckskin, fringed jacket over a loose white shirt, a black bonepipe choker, and a long kilt with calf-high moccasin boots. A long bow and quiver of arrows are slung over his shoulder. He holds a long, thin, white walking stick in hs hands. The wind picks up, blowing the smoke towards the KnightShift. As he squints, coughing, the Ghost floats to the ground in front of him. "Who are you?" the KnightShift whispers. "Your past, your future, your ancesters and descendents. I am your innermost desires, and your deepest fears. I am who you are, were, and will be. Most of all, *I AM*, like me or not. "You have opened a door, my friend. This adventure has been forcing you to consider everything you ever knew. Your enemy has twisted the minds of all your friends. They are facing their worst nightmares. Trying to weaken them, by forcing their own pasts, their own consciences to attack them. With help from the group, they have faced them and overcome. The Enemy has yet to target you. And irony would have it that you throw yourself into the fire willingly. Old Man loves irony. He is a trickster, but this time, the trick is on the Enemy. Old Man has brought you here to face yourself. "You claim not to believe in God, yet you call up Old Man? Ultimately, all you know in this life is how unsure you are of anything. You second guess your instincts. Start following them. You need not choose a religion to believe in something greater than yourself. You have always known what is right and wrong. You can feel something tugging at you, asking for nothing more than you trust yourself. Do so. You fear your psychic abilities. Yet, it does you no harm. It has even helped you in the past. Accepting yourself will not change you. It will free you." "I am afraid of doing what you ask. What you ask doesn't seem logical. Gods and magic and psychic abilities all seem to be the same thing, either lies or a misrepresentation of natural events. It is unscientific. I am very rooted in those beliefs. How can I throw them away?" "You don't have to. In fact, you mustn't. But you know as well as I that science and logic are limited by what we know. These things you name are not impossible. You have yet to prove them, or disprove them. How can you claim to have a complete understanding of everything when you know so little about anything. Science has many questions yet to answer. It is in no way complete. Logic is only sound when it has all the facts. Many things can be proved, if you do not know all the information. A fool knows many things. A truely wise man..." "Knows how much he doesn't know," the KnightShift finishs the thought. "It is alright to believe in something *until* it can be proven false. Then we must reshape our beliefs? So Old Man wants me to take the Scottish verdict of 'Not proved'?" the KnightShift asks. "Considering our talk, I wouldn't have thought to quote Carl Sagan, but, yes, that is what will strengthen you. If your fears are confronted, the Enemy has no weapons against you. And, having fears is fine. Not facing them, even if you fail to conquer them, is foolish. To overcome your limitations, you must first know them. The Ghost says, "It is time to end our talk. I am always within you. You are powerful, KnightShift. As are your friends. The pretenses of uniforms and technology are over. You have better things." The ghost walks toward the KnightShift. "Your inner self is the best weapon against the Enemy..." As the Ghost merges with the KnightShift, he says, "Let it...let me...out." "I will. How can I not?" The fire smothered with the red sands of Oa, the KnightShift returns to his friends. The security squad stops what they are doing, as do the other Callahanians. Because the shaven-headed, Earthforce KnightShift who went into the cluster of boulders is not who came out. It is still the KnightShift, they are sure, but the change is impossible for them to comprehend. The KnightShift stands before them as the Ghost solidified. "What are you all staring at? You don't like me with long hair?" the KnightShift grins, "You know, this kilt and stuff is very comfortable. I see why I wear it." "I had a long talk with myself, and, indirectly, Old Man. The Adversary is strong, but I have taken his worst weapon away. As, I think, have we all. Sit. I will tell you what my spirit has told me. Perhaps, it will help." The KnightShift grins mischieviously. "Or not. Though I would have no cause to lie to myself, Old Man *was* involved!" And with that, the KnightShift begins to weave his tale of his Encounter in the Rocks. =========================== Date: 26 Oct 1996 00:41:20 GMT (46526 & 9) From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) grammarfascist wrote: >>>She looks up at the Stranger, who seems a bit more relaxed now. Her >>>face is calm too, but the sudden wave of self-loathing that pours >>>through her mind backlashes enough so that anyone with even >>>rudimentary telepathy can feel it. Roland reels for a moment. >>The Stranger watches her. >> >>"I can't allow him to win, no matter what the cost, I guess. Hmph, >>whatever it takes. No, I will not let him beat me, certainly not >>like this." /YES!/ Roland thinks, keeping the smile from reaching his face. >Shadow jumps down off of the other's shoulder, braking a bit with his >wings, and sits down between Silence and the Stranger. He looks >around; everyone seems to be there, formed into a rough circle. >There is a strange sense of... completion in the air. Unbidden, the >image of Dion's nemeton comes to Shadow's mind, and his companions >resemble nothing so much as the standing stones, braced and strong >and ready to endure anything that Nature or her children can throw at >them. Roland sighs, and sits, and waits for a decision to be reached... ...and realizes that everyone is staring at him. "What-?" /Well, DUH!/ he suddenly thinks, blushing furiously. /Something you've forgotten more than once, in your rush to 'protect' your friends by going off on your own like a damn fool. /Trust. That's what Callahan's is about, Roland, and right now, they're trusting you to know what to do next. You know what's going on, you know what needs to be done, and more importantly, you know in your heart that you have to do it./ At last, he stands. "My friends, I wish there were some other way. We started out looking for a little action, and now here we are, facing the darkness within ourselves, and an Adversary that is darkness itself, in large part because of me. I can't promise victory, not against a force like that which we are about to face. I can't even promise that we'll get out of this alive. I _can_ promise that, if we stand together, the Adversary can not succeed. For his threat is ultimately tragic; he's never understood the power that has always beaten him. Love." "Nice speech, Roland. Now, the plan?" A few chuckles later, Roland forms a diagram with his ring. "We'll set up a defense perimiter, around the Battery, a series of traps designed to take out as much of the first strike force as possible. Sonics, primal magic, mental attacks and other indirect effects will probably be the most viable. Anything creative, however, should go into the mix as well. I'm counting on the illusionists to mask our presence from scans, but they won't see us." A few eyebrows quirk up. Roland smiles. "Trust me. They won't see us." "If you camouflage types are confident enough, I'd like to set up a cross-fire here-" he points to an area in front of his diagram's green center- "with the Power Rings and Colonel Gray's weaponry used for the strike. Mage-types, I'm trusting to know their stuff." "Finally, the main force will be here." He points to the center of his projection. "Inside the, ah, Trojan Battery." And with that, his ring glows-and the Battery begins to rise, with a slow, growing rumbling, out of Oa's sands. *Don't worry,* he projects to the Callahanians, *That's not the Battery. But thanks to the efforts of the Guardians' essences, it will seem to be the Battery, even to the Adversary itself. The main force will hide in there, and when the avatar arrives, we'll be waiting for him.* The rumbling slows to a stop. "Any questions?" he asks with a smile. =========================== Date: Fri, 25 Oct 1996 20:51:42 -0500 (46532 & 10) From: grammarfascist Roland wrote: > /YES!/ Roland thinks, keeping the smile from reaching his face. Silence smiles softly. "You do know that we can all hear you now, Roland," she points out. "What shows on your face matters very little at this point." > A few chuckles later, Roland forms a diagram with his ring. "We'll >set up a defense perimiter, around the Battery, a series of traps >designed to take out as much of the first strike force as possible. >Sonics, primal magic, mental attacks and other indirect effects will >probably be the most viable. Anything creative, however, should go >into the mix as well. I'm counting on the illusionists to mask our >presence from scans, but they won't see us." Silence nods. "Sonics are my business, certainly. And--" she runs her fingers through her hair, pulling away a few loose strands "--I can make tripwires like you've never heard." > "Finally, the main force will be here." He points to the center of >his projection. "Inside the, ah, Trojan Battery." > And with that, his ring glows-and the Battery begins to rise, with >a slow, growing rumbling, out of Oa's sands. > *Don't worry,* he projects to the Callahanians, *That's not the >Battery. But thanks to the efforts of the Guardians' essences, it >will seem to be the Battery, even to the Adversary itself. The main >force will hide in there, and when the avatar arrives, we'll be >waiting for him.* "That's perfect!" Silence says with a laugh. "Wonderful idea, Roland. Now, let's get to putting it together." Even as she speaks, her fingers are busy knotting together strands of her hair into a long, near-invisible chain. It coils on the ground next to her, growing longer and longer. At last, she examines her handiwork and nods. "This should be long enough to make a circle around us. Someone set up four corner-markers for a moment and I'll string it around." Her forehead furrows in concentration, and she whispers something into the strands; they glow green briefly and then, as the glow fades, they turn red as the sands. "Everyone got their bracelets handy?" Silence asks. "As long as you're wearing those, you can touch this without any ill effects. Anyone else, though, will encounter a pure sonic blast from the ground up which will cause--at the very least--dizziness, total loss of balance, and sudden and extreme nausea. If you need a replacement bracelet, tell me _now_; I don't want any of us incapacitated by this." --Silence (soon to be posting from her own account) =========================== Date: 26 Oct 1996 02:19:45 GMT (46539 & 11) From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) grammarfascist wrote: >Roland wrote: >> /YES!/ Roland thinks, keeping the smile from reaching his face. > >Silence smiles softly. "You do know that we can all hear you now, >Roland," she points out. "What shows on your face matters very little >at this point." Roland blinks. "Grife. I _have_ to work on the telepathy thing." >"This should be long enough to make a circle around us. Someone set >up four corner-markers for a moment and I'll string it around." Her >forehead furrows in concentration, and she whispers something into >the strands; they glow green briefly and then, as the glow fades, >they turn red as the sands. "Everyone got their bracelets handy?" >Silence asks. "As long as you're wearing those, you can touch this >without any ill effects. Anyone else, though, will encounter a pure >sonic blast from the ground up which will cause--at the very >least--dizziness, total loss of balance, and sudden and extreme >nausea. If you need a replacement bracelet, tell me _now_; I don't >want any of us incapacitated by this." Roland concentrates, and an emerald bracelet forms on his wrist. "Um, Silence, that's a _very_ useful idea, but I don't remember getting a bracelet..." He looks down and sees the red underneath the green. He blushes. "Never mind. That's perfect, Silence; exactly what I had in mind. Anyone else with ideas is, of course, welcome to add them to the mix, but it sounds (no pun intended) like we're ready to rock and roll." He smiles. "Thanks, Silence." Roland looks up; far in the distance, a small cloud of red dust can be seen. "None too soon. We still have some time; I suggest we use it." A grinning, emerald Sinestro appears, a large Power Ring on one finger and Roland's Legion flight ring on the other hand. "I was wondering where that went...folx, meet 'Sinestro.' He's the 'reason' the Battery just rose, and our lure. I'll have him talk to the expeditionary force, try to get some info out of them. When we're ready to nail them, he'll flare up and grow. That'll be our cue to hammer those goons into the ground." =========================== Date: Fri, 25 Oct 1996 21:31:39 -0500 (46542 & 12) From: grammarfascist On 26 Oct 1996, Roland X wrote: > Roland concentrates, and an emerald bracelet forms on his wrist. >"Um, Silence, that's a _very_ useful idea, but I don't remember >getting a bracelet..." He looks down and sees the red underneath the >green. He blushes. "Never mind. That's perfect, Silence; exactly what >I had in mind. Anyone else with ideas is, of course, welcome to add >them to the mix, but it sounds (no pun intended) like we're ready to >rock and roll." He smiles. "Thanks, Silence." Silence pauses in laying out the 'tripwire', snaps a hair loose, and ties it around Roland's wrist, loose enough that he can slip it up over his sleeve. /I suggest everyone put on their bracelets now, since unnecessary noise won't help us any. We should all--as Roland pointed out--be practicing our telepathy anyway./ > Roland looks up; far in the distance, a small cloud of red dust >can be seen. "None too soon. We still have some time; I suggest we >use it." A grinning, emerald Sinestro appears, a large Power Ring on >one finger and Roland's Legion flight ring on the other hand. "I was >wondering where that went...folx, meet 'Sinestro.' He's the 'reason' >the Battery just rose, and our lure. I'll have him talk to the >expeditionary force, try to get some info out of them. When we're >ready to nail them, he'll flare up and grow. That'll be our cue to >hammer those goons into the ground." Silence nods. /Got it./ Then she draws the ends of the 'tripwire' together and knots them. /Okay, folks. If you look closely, you should all be able to see a slight shimmer of green where that is. Don't worry; the sand won't cover it, and no one without a bracelet can see it. Does anyone else need a replacement?/ =========================== Date: Fri, 25 Oct 1996 21:45:01 -0500 (46545 & 13) From: grammarfascist From: Shadow >From: Roland X > > Roland sighs, and sits, and waits for a decision to be reached... > ...and realizes that everyone is staring at him. > "What-?" Shadow chuckles softly. > A few eyebrows quirk up. Roland smiles. "Trust me. They won't see >us." > "If you camouflage types are confident enough, I'd like to set up >a crossfire here-" he points to an area in front of his diagram's >green center- "with the Power Rings and Colonel Gray's weaponry used >for the strike. Mage-types, I'm trusting to know their stuff." Shadow stretches his wings. "Confident? You could say that," he answers. "How exactly do you want us setting up this crossfire? Images of members of the party? I'm not sure what you're looking for here." --Shadow _______ __ \__ \__\__ \__ \_ \_ A__ \__ \__\_/ . / ~~~~ __' Shadow /// Lucas mya K'therr ((\_\\______\\ / (you know, the cat with the wings) )) //\\ //\\ V m m m m =========================== Date: Sat, 26 Oct 1996 23:00:53 +0100 (46629 & 15) From: Gareth Owen > "Finally, the main force will be here." He points to the center of >his projection. "Inside the, ah, Trojan Battery." The Stranger smiles > And with that, his ring glows-and the Battery begins to rise, with >a slow, growing rumbling, out of Oa's sands. > *Don't worry,* he projects to the Callahanians, *That's not the >Battery. But thanks to the efforts of the Guardians' essences, it >will seem to be the Battery, even to the Adversary itself. The main >force will hide in there, and when the avatar arrives, we'll be >waiting for him.* > The rumbling slows to a stop. "Any questions?" he asks with a >smile. "Whadda we do after lunch?" Around him everyone seems to be moving with a purpose. He wanders over to Kitty, who has morphed into a red steel cat, four foot at the shoulder. "I'm going to head for the crossfire zone and see if I can do some damage." "Right, I'll be in the Battery" replies the cat. He nods, and looks at himself, puzzled "It's a Green Lantern uniform" says the cat "I know, but what happened to all my hardware?" "It doesn't matter. You wont need it for this battle." "Oh well, if you say so. Break a leg, kid." He smiles and launches himself skyward, skimming low across the red sands to his appointed place. The big cat watches him go and then heads for the 'Battery' a power ring gleaming around one of her forelegs. The Stranger =========================== Date: Sat, 26 Oct 1996 18:02:45 -0500 (46628 & 16) From: grammarfascist On Sat, 26 Oct 1996, Gareth Owen wrote: >Around him everyone seems to be moving with a purpose. He wanders >over to Kitty, who has morphed into a red steel cat, four foot at the >shoulder. Silence glances up from setting sonic mines, sees the cat, and stops dead. /Where did that come from?/ she wonders. /A friend of yours, Stranger?/ =========================== Date: Sat, 26 Oct 1996 18:03:44 -0500 (46630 & 17) From: grammarfascist On Sat, 26 Oct 1996, Gareth Owen wrote: >Around him everyone seems to be moving with a purpose. He wanders >over to Kitty, who has morphed into a red steel cat, four foot at the >shoulder. Shadow's eyes go very wide. If cats could whistle, he would be; as it is, he can only stare in wonder and awe. >The big cat watches him go and then heads for the 'Battery' a power >ring gleaming around one of her forelegs. Silence flies up alongside the magnificent metal feline and politely hovers in a position convenient for nose-sniffing. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma'am," he says respectfully. "Might I ask your name?" =========================== Date: 27 Oct 1996 00:24:20 GMT (46635 & 18) From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) >grammarfascist wrote: >From: Shadow >Shadow stretches his wings. "Confident? You could say that," he >answers. "How exactly do you want us setting up this crossfire? >Images of members of the party? I'm not sure what you're looking for >here." *Actually,* Roland explains, *what I'm looking for is an invisibility field, or an illusory 'outcropping,' or something, that will conceal the cross fire teams from the Adversary's mostly technological minions. I want a 135 degree angle between the two teams, one at 45 degrees from the 'battery' and one at 90, measuring out to the first tripwire. *Be warned,* Roland finishes, *that the reason I was told that the Adversary mistrusts magickal allies is because it prefers to have the only power of that type among 'lesser' forces. While the Adversary must surely be out of practice, after eons trapped in the Dreamtime, and only a few dozen avatars sprinkled throughout that time, it will be a dangerous foe once it realizes what we've done to trick it. It hates rival 'mortals' and anyone better at it than _anything._ In other words, once we start blasting, duck.* =========================== Date: Sat, 26 Oct 1996 22:44:07 -0500 (46645 & 19) From: grammarfascist >From: Roland X > *Actually,* Roland explains, *what I'm looking for is an >invisibility field, or an illusory 'outcropping,' or something, that >will conceal the cross fire teams from the Adversary's mostly >technological minions. I want a 135 degree angle between the two >teams, one at 45 degrees from the 'battery' and one at 90, measuring >out to the first tripwire. "No problem," Shadow replies, and then catches himself and switches over to telepathy. /Sorry about that,/ he adds. /I haven't spoken mind-to-mind since I left the Hill; it's normally something we can only do with other K'therr and, very rarely, other felines. /Anyways, I can rig an illusion like that without too much problem. We have about twenty hours left in these rings, right? Because from what it's... uh... telling me, I guess is the right way to put it, once I set something up it can maintain it without any prompting from me./ He slips his bracelet down from off of the ring to encircle the fur just behind one paw, and gingerly tests the tripwire; nothing happens, and he nods with satisfaction. /Let's set up right on the tripwire, or just on this side,/ he suggests. /That way they'll come running right across it. /As far as I can tell, they'll be coming at us through that valley down there./ He points with a paw. /Silence already set up some sonic mines down in there, but it also looks to be ideal for sniping. Anyone want to take a rifle with a good sight up on one of the ridges?/ He looks around. The group seems suddenly diminished. /Wait... where did everyone go? Dion? Morgan? Lady Cheron? AJ? Did Seosaidh ever come back? Colonel Grey? Xzerrion? You know, if people keep vanishing like this, there won't be enough people to make use of this 'Battery' that Roland's given us and also set up the crossfire properly. Hello out there..../ The telepathic call seems to echo a bit. Shadow looks around, puzzled, and then shrugs and begins to create a rock outcropping which seems to be very solid, very old and weathered, and half-buried in the sand. =========================== Date: Sun, 27 Oct 1996 17:38:29 -0600 (46711 & 20) From: Gareth Owen >Shadow wrote: >Silence flies up alongside the magnificent metal feline and politely >hovers in a position convenient for nose-sniffing. "A pleasure to >make your acquaintance, ma'am," he says respectfully. "Might I ask >your name?" The steel cat arches her head towards the flying K'therr and sniffs. Then she visibly relaxes and smiles. "My names Kitty, of all things, but that's his fault" her head indicates the receding Stranger. "I'm, ah, well its a long story, but I'm a spirit given flesh, the Stranger met me some years ago and our paths seemed to cross so often that when he found Callahans he brought me there. Nice place, it's got a fire and plenty of cream, what more does a cat need? The Stranger says I'm his consciounce, whatever that is." +++ Meanwhile the Stranger arrives at the killing zone, he spreads his arms, an emerald force screen surrounds him shaped like a manta ray, he settles to the ground and the wings start to beat, throwing up clouds of red dust. Shortly, the dust settles and the Stranger is gone, concealed beneath the crimson sands of Oa. Waiting. The Stranger NB Kitty is the spirit of my (Gareth Owens) old car, I placed her in Callahans as a memorial when I sold her, I loved that old car. She's a four foot cat most of the time, but she can morph, so that's variable. =========================== Date: Mon, 28 Oct 1996 18:26:40 GMT (46823 & 21?) From: Dane R. Anderson" >From: Gareth Owen >Shortly, the dust settles and the Stranger is gone, concealed beneath >the crimson sands of Oa. Waiting. A small "voice" echos (seeming to come from everywhere but mostly above) in the minds of the party, "Could you use some help? I felt a blast of self loathing. When I came to investigate, I could feel the approach of an ancient enemy. Most beings of limited lifespan would be at a great disadvantage fighting it." The "voice" gives the definite feeling of both great antiquity and youth. "I would be honoured to aid you in your fight." "You will probably (I don't pry) want to know 'who' I am. I am Stardragon. My form is pure living energy. Since I feed on energy in any shape or form (matter and magic included), The Adversary has always found me to be a formidable foe" =========================== Date: Mon, 28 Oct 1996 18:17:44 -0500 (46859 & 22) From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) >"Dane R. Anderson" wrote: >A small "voice" echos (seeming to come from everywhere but mostly >above) in the minds of the party, "Could you use some help? I felt a >blast of self loathing. When I came to investigate, I could feel the >approach of an ancient enemy. Most beings of limited lifespan would >be at a great disadvantage fighting it." The "voice" gives the >definite feeling of both great antiquity and youth. "I would be >honoured to aid you in your fight." Roland blinks from inside the Battery, and stares in awe... >"You will probably (I don't pry) want to know 'who' I am. I am >Stardragon. My form is pure living energy. Since I feed on energy in >any shape or form (matter and magic included), The Adversary has >always found me to be a formidable foe" "We are honored, Sharakai. Please, join us if it is your wish. But be warned, the Adversary has taken a most dangerous avatar in this ficton...your arrival is most timely." =========================== Date: Mon, 28 Oct 1996 20:50:12 -0600 (46875) From: grammarfascist From: Silence Silence comes back from a recon-and-mine-laying mission. /They're still a good hour away,/ she reports. /The mines, by the way, won't affect anyone with one of my bracelets; last chance to get a new one if you need it./ She looks around; there don't seem to be any takers. /All right then. By the way, Shadow's idea about snipers may not be a good one; when those things go off, they'll trigger higher ones and about half of each of those slopes will end up in the valley and on top of the troops. Focused, directed sonic blasts can do wonderful things when you put them on fracture lines. I put the triggers in this end of the valley so that as many soldiers as possible will be buried." A moment of regret darkens her eyes. "I hate doing this to whatever conscripts might be in there, under the control of the Adversary and without the will to break free. But I guess you have to do what you have to do." =========================== Date: 28 Oct 1996 17:50:36 -0500 (26-posted to list later than to a.c) From: dion.marshall@pobox.com (Dion P. Marshall) :grammarfascist (mickle@kestrel.scs.uiuc.edu) wrote: :From: Shadow :He looks around. The group seems suddenly diminished. /Wait... where :did everyone go? Dion? Morgan? Lady Cheron? AJ? Did Seosaidh ever :come back? Colonel Grey? Xzerrion? You know, if people keep vanishing :like this, there won't be enough people to make use of this 'Battery' :that Roland's given us and also set up the crossfire properly. Hello :out there..../ The telepathic call seems to echo a bit. Shadow looks :around, puzzled, and then shrugs and begins to create a rock :outcropping which seems to be very solid, very old and weathered, and :half-buried in the sand. Dion steps though a nematon gate, "Sorry, Shadow, didn't mean to make you think you'ld been abandoned. I was checking the path to see how strong the walls were and make sure that something I wanted to do wouldn't cause problems in the land of the Sidhe. Are we about as spread out as we're going to be?" Several folks nod. Dion spins in place and as he faces each direction a nematon forms. "Silence, would you be so kind as to step outside of the nematon to the north and tell me what you see? Stranger, can you spare a moment to do the same from the south?" They're both surprized to see that the Nematon is not visible from the outside, and everyone inside is transparent, like a reflection in glass. "Now, Silence, please be so kind as to throw a rock at me." The rock sails through the air until it intersects the nematon, where it disappears, seems to disintegrate into dust. On the other side of the Nematon, some rock dust appears and the edge of it hits Stranger in the face. "Sorry, Stranger, I had expected the rock to remain intact and fly off a little to the left of you. The gates are spread a little thin, and I'm afraid that some of whatever they send is going to get through, but if they try to surround us, they'll get hit by some of their own crossfire. Let me let you two back in. By the way, notice that the gates only affect incoming traffic. If you must go beyond them, go through without stopping and _don't_ try to come back in, or you'll end up like that rock. Unfortunately, this is going to tie up my powers as long as it's up, and I don't know how long I can keep it up when they try to send things through it, but it should last for at least one good volley or charge." =========================== Date: Tue, 29 Oct 1996 19:09:16 GMT (46985) From:"Dane R. Anderson" >grammarfascist wrote: >From: Silence >Silence comes back from a recon-and-mine-laying mission. /They're >still a good hour away,/ she reports. /The mines, by the way, won't >affect anyone with one of my bracelets; last chance to get a new one >if you need it./ >She looks around; there don't seem to be any takers. /All right then. >By the way, Shadow's idea about snipers may not be a good one; when >those things go off, they'll trigger higher ones and about half of >each of those slopes will end up in the valley and on top of the >troops. Focused, directed sonic blasts can do wonderful things when >you put them on fracture lines. I put the triggers in this end of the >valley so that as many soldiers as possible will be buried." A moment >of regret darkens her eyes. "I hate doing this to whatever conscripts >might be in there, under the control of the Adversary and without the >will to break free. But I guess you have to do what you have to do." "Fear not for the conscripts. If we are victorious, I can reach back through time, bringing them forward to safety in the nano-second before they are crushed by the rocks. Injured they will be, for I cannot be gentle or slow in 'grasping' them. But they will live." 'says' Stardragon as it momentarily appears (as a tiny spark of light high above the valley). "As for your bracelets, I need them not. Sound is energy. Your 'mines' would only make me stronger." Stardragon then fades from view, that the enemy not be warned. =========================== Date: Tue, 29 Oct 1996 21:46:39 -0500 (47027 & 23) From: rolandx@ix.netcom.com (Roland X) >"Dane R. Anderson" wrote: >"Fear not for the conscripts. If we are victorious, I can reach back >through time, bringing them forward to safety in the nano-second >before they are crushed by the rocks. Injured they will be, for I >cannot be gentle or slow in 'grasping' them. But they will live." >'says' Stardragon as it momentarily appears (as a tiny spark of light >high above the valley). "As for your bracelets, I need them not. >Sound is energy. Your 'mines' would only make me stronger." >Stardragon then fades from view, that the enemy not be warned. Roland nods; he is familiar with the legends of the great Dragon who founded Pride Sharakai. *From what we have seen, revered one, these warriors serve the Adversary willingly, if not truly aware of its nature. The Manhunters, certainly, have no qualms about allying themselves with Entropy...* he trails off... *...even if the sprocking Guardians have seen fit to charge me with their redemption...* he looks up again once more. *...but I, for one, certainly trust you to deal with the aftermath as you see fit. Assuming we win.* He turns to the others. *All right, any snipers for the crossfire will have to be within the final line of defense. Dion has been gracious and clever enough to set up a field of teleportals that will have the enemy's own weaponry turning on itself, setting up yet another crossfire. We still have time, but it the clock _is_ ticking. Let's be ready to rock and roll.* Outside, the impostor Sinestro taps its foot impatiently... =========================== Date: Thu, 31 Oct 1996 13:00:22 -0600 (47296 & 24) From: grammarfascist From: "Dane R. Anderson" Stardragon ponders to itself "Most worthy allies. I hope I don't frighten them too badly when I take battle form. Oh well, it can't be helped I suppose. Were it not for the avatar, they would easily take care of the force approaching. But He unbalances the equation. I must take care not to step upon my allies, and yet be ready to leap to the attack. My Presense will free the Adversary to come here, personally, once his avatar is destroyed. I have beaten Him before but he has grown stronger after each defeat. Here's hoping my wyrm-holes will hold, when He arrives and I must begin drawing energy beyond their normal capacity. =========================== Date: Thu, 31 Oct 1996 17:31:45 -0600 (25) From: "KnightShift (Michael Jon Knight)" The KnightShift is quietly conversing with his Shuttle copilot, Zach. Zach salutes, and jogs over to the rest of the security team. Quiet murmuring can be heard. Then the entire team runs to the shuttle, Zach in the lead. "Alright," the KnightShift says, "Divide into two teams, grab two phased plasma rifles per man and all the ammo you can carry. Set up firing positions at the outcroppings per Roland's instructions. Zach, you man the shuttle. Those cannons are going to end up being *very useful* if any vehicles come to the party. Zach, I'm putting you in charge of these men. If we have some sort of SNAFU, get the security team to the shuttle and get off planet. I'll be in the battery. "Silence, if we won't be plucking you bald, these men could use some bracelets. Nothing fancy, just enough for them to see the traps you've set." Zach steps forward, "Uh, Captain? What about you and the others?" "Warn the others if things get too hairy. Get as many out as you can, *if* they're willing to go. But, more than likely, if things get too bad, well..." "And *you*, sir? What about you?" Zach asks. The KnightShift draws his sword. The claymore glows brightly. But Zach notices that the KnightShift seems to glow more brightly. Though there is no wind, the KnightShift's clothes and hair whip around as if there were. "Zach, there is only *one way* I am leaving...and *that* path isn't for you." The KnightShift sheathes his claymore, "You have your orders, Zach...get to it." As Zach and the security force arm themselves, the KnightShift whispers, "Old Man, you had better know what you're doing." With the security team in position for the cross-fire pattern, The KnightShift walks over to the battery and waits. The KnightShift, ready to get this show in the road! :) =========================== Date: Fri, 1 Nov 1996 16:25:04 -0800 (47482 & 27) From: Paul Campbell >On Sat, 26 Oct 1996, grammarfascist wrote: >From: Shadow >He looks around. The group seems suddenly diminished. /Wait... where >did everyone go? Dion? Morgan? Lady Cheron? AJ? Did Seosaidh ever >come back? Colonel Grey? Xzerrion? You know, if people keep vanishing >like this, there won't be enough people to make use of this 'Battery' >that Roland's given us and also set up the crossfire properly. Hello >out there..../ The telepathic call seems to echo a bit. Shadow looks >around, puzzled, and then shrugs and begins to create a rock >outcropping which seems to be very solid, very old and weathered, and >half-buried in the sand. Xzerrion finally re-emerges in response to Shadow's call, both blades in hand and showing signs of recent use; blood matted in his hair. /Sorry about the delay, folks,/ he gasps mentally, /but there's been a little problem ... we seem to have some of my people joining forces with the Adversary, and one of the better ones saw me. Fortunately, he was to sure of himself and didn't call for help or warn the rest of them, but I saw at least 20 others. This one thought he could take me himself, but fortunately .../ Xzerrion staggers, catching himself abruptly on an outstretched arm, /he wasn't quite good enough. Damn good thing I remembered my amulet though, or I'd never have pulled this off./ =========================== Date: Sun, 3 Nov 96 13:23:06 -0500 (29) From: Roland X (OOC: I'm going to be ABEND in two weeks-going to see my parents in Florida-so I hope no one minds my moving things along. Feel free to fit your own parts in here wherever you wish; I'll do my best to aid any Callahanians in distress. After all, you folx _did_ just save my bacon! ) >>On Sat, 26 Oct 1996, grammarfascist wrote: >>From: Shadow >>He looks around. The group seems suddenly diminished. /Wait... >>where did everyone go? Dion? Morgan? Lady Cheron? AJ? Did Seosaidh >>ever come back? Colonel Grey? Xzerrion? You know, if people keep >>vanishing like this, there won't be enough people to make use of >>this 'Battery' that Roland's given us and also set up the crossfire >>properly. Hello out there..../ The telepathic call seems to echo a >>bit. Shadow looks around, puzzled, and then shrugs and begins to >>create a rock outcropping which seems to be very solid, very old and >>weathered, and half-buried in the sand. For a moment, Roland finds himself wishing that the others were out of harms way...then 'Mick of Time' comes back to him, and he remembers how the _original_ Callahanians reacted to the end of the world, and smiles. He couldn't imagine a better way to die, or better people to die with. /Only it won't come to that,/ he thinks determinedly. Only one person remains missing... >Xzerrion finally re-emerges in response to Shadow's call, both blades >in hand and showing signs of recent use; blood matted in his hair. >/Sorry about the delay, folks,/ he gasps mentally, /but there's been >a little problem ... we seem to have some of my people joining forces >with the Adversary, and one of the better ones saw me. Fortunately, >he was to sure of himself and didn't call for help or warn the rest >of them, but I saw at least 20 others. This one thought he could take >me himself, but fortunately .../ Xzerrion staggers, catching himself >abruptly on an outstretched arm, /he wasn't quite good enough. Damn >good thing I remembered my amulet though, or I'd never have pulled >this off./ Roland pales slightly-/damn, our biggest advantage-/ then smiles. /No. Our SECOND biggest advantage. We're family, and THAT'S our biggest advantage./ The approaching force is now visible to the naked eye. *Okay, folx, here they come. Wait for 'Sinestro' to greet the avatar; when he explodes, you know what to do. Hit hard and fast and mind the crossfire, and we can take these clowns.* Roland grows silent for a moment. *In a few minutes, we're going to be fighting for our lives. More, we'll be fighting for dozens of fictons; if we win, countless beings will be able to live free thanks to our actions. If we lose...well, we won't lose. Some of may not make it through this, but...I just want to say...I can't think of a better bunch of rummies to fight alongside, to make my stand with.* Roland smiles then, and looks out at the approaching force. *Places people,* he 'says' in his best mock-Hollywood voice. *We have magic to make!* Moments later, Roland doesn't feel like laughing. The science-ficton forces remain, but in smaller numbers. NOW there are the dark Sidhe of Xzerrion's kind, and miniature dragons, and infernalists...and orcs. Not the orcs Roland has spent a lifetime fighting in fictons where they are a joke, though...these are _Tolkien_ orcs, elvenkind twisted by their own desire and greed. And weaving through it all, as ever, are the Man- hunters. Keeping order. Maintaining discipline. Only the Sidhe seem not to fear them, the Sidhe and- /Wait,/ Roland thinks desperately. /Where's Gruber?/ Then he sees. In the center, raised above the others, is the empty emerald armor. And inside, a small patch of darkness... "Sinestro," the armor-the AVATAR-calls out. "Report." Roland is paralyzed with fear-but only for a moment. He feels his companions around him, and the fear washes away. Mostly. "Report to you?" 'Sinestro' asks with an oily smile. "Why should I?" The emerald figure leaned on the counterfeit battery with supreme arrogance. The darkness within the Parallax armor flickered, and Roland's fear is confirmed; the being that had consumed the battery once before is, indeed, the avatar. Where Gruber was becomes considerably less important at this point. "You have taken the battery," Parallax says. It is not a question. /Neat trick,/ Roland thinks, almost hysterical, /for a being without a head./ He then says through 'Sinestro,' "An excellent observation, Parallax. Adversary, surely you must now accept me as the superior host." Parallax flickers. /Come on, come on, get pissed-/ *Agreed,* the Adversary broadcasts, and Roland's jaw drops in shock. PLEASED shock. /Bloody Nass! Bloody sprocking NASS! I knew the Adversary was greedy, but this-!/ His smile almost hurts as the Adversary's dark energy slinks out of Parallax. "NO!" Parallax roars. "We have an agreement! Forces, ATTACK! DESTROY that abomination Sinestro!" The Adversary cannot be without a host for very long. It therefore does its best to make transition time as short as possible; given the work required to prepare a host, only something on the order of Sinestro's offer would even cause it to consider such a thing. Its time 'outside' can be measured in microseconds, typically. Sinestro vanished. The Adversary's light-murdering energy wavers for a moment, and the army hits the first mine field at that exact moment. *I don't believe it,* Roland says, watching the chaos with glee. *I do NOT sprocking BELIEVE it! Hit 'em _hard,_ folx! We've GOT 'em cold!* The Callahanian attack's efficiency surprises even Roland. The Adversary is nowhere to be found; Roland suspects that the Stardragon has something to do with that. The various troops comprising the enemy forces fire at once, almost in a panic-and the inversion field turns their massive volley inward. And the Sidhe he'd so feared can't seem to concentrate enough to get any spells off. /High-frequency sonics will do that,/ Roland thinks with a laugh. Then Parallax steps, out of nowhere, right in front of Roland. "YOU!" *Grife!* Roland cries, his own Ring-powered attacks cut off in mid-blast. (Two Veritechs and a green Flash disappear.) "I do not know how your trickery fooled the immortal Adversary, but you will _pay_ for costing me my revenge." "Don't you _ever_ shut up, Appa Ali Apsa?" Roland fires back, turning the Ring's full force on Parallax. Two spiked clamps snap down on its arms, and a vise tightens around its chest. All are exploded with their own energy. "Interesting. You know of the original Parallax host, and your willpower is stronger than I suspected. All irrelevant, of course. You _will_ discorporate." /_Original_ host? Oh great, the plot thickens./ Roland fights with desperate resolve. The Adversary is being dealt with, of that much Roland is certain, but if Parallax reaches the true battery... A green mandible lashes out and catches Roland around the waist, cutting into him with several barbs. He screams. "There. Now. You _will_ tell me how to access Oa's power." "In what lifetime, you-AAH!" "I have the power of a Guardian, I have an army, I have knowledge beyond the capacity of your pathetic meat brain. What do _you_ have?" Roland's grimacebegins to fade with his consciousness... when he remembers what a fellow Patron told him. He smiles. "Faith in the Light." Roland takes off his Power Ring-it was not meant for him anyway-and throws it down the empty neck of the armor. And for a moment, he could swear he sees a Green Lantern Corps member form, and Hal Jordan saluting him with a smile as he flies into the belly of the Beast... And his friends, seeing Roland's distress, fire half a dozen emerald blasts into Parallax. The armor explodes. And within that armor...to quote Our Patron: "It was a cockroach. In a little cockroach pressure suit..." The laughter seemed to shake Oa itself, and paralyzed the little monster, just as it had another rebel of its kind. And Roland suddenly, finally, realizes where his dark side's power comes from. The pain. "You shouldn't have wounded me so badly," he snarls, and the last of the Green Lantern energy inside him, along with his own PK powers increased manyfold, creates a giant hand... and with one great index finger, he flicks Beast II deep into space. Roland falls back to the false battery, leaning against it as his body reweaves itself, and he laughs painfully but with great satisfaction. /Oh, that's too much.../ Despite the victories, though, the battle is only beginning. The Manhunters are managing to get the remaining forces into line, and they might still be able to take the battery's power... /And where the hell is Gruber?/ =========================== Date: Sun, 3 Nov 1996 17:35:26 -0600 (47685 & 30) From: grammarfascist From: Gareth Owen >Roland X wrote: > *I don't believe it,* Roland says, watching the chaos with glee. >*I do NOT sprocking BELIEVE it! Hit 'em _hard,_ folx! We've GOT 'em >cold!* The Stranger bursts from his hiding place, swathed in an emereld enrergy field, eyes burning with green rage. "Hello boys." He cuts a swath through the Adversary's forces, beams of green energy lashing out in all directions. > Then Parallax steps, out of nowhere, right in front of Roland. >"YOU!" The Stranger turns and starts struggling through the massed ranks around him to close on Roland > *Grife!* Roland cries, his own Ring-powered attacks cut off in >mid-blast. (Two Veritechs and a green Flash disappear.) > "I do not know how your trickery fooled the immortal Adversary, >but you will _pay_ for costing me my revenge." > "Don't you _ever_ shut up, Appa Ali Apsa?" Roland fires back, >turning the Ring's full force on Parallax. Two spiked clamps snap >down on its arms, and a vise tightens around its chest. All are >exploded with their own energy. The Stranger is engulfed in a storm of harpies and dragonlizards, he cuts through them, but there are so many > "Interesting. You know of the original Parallax host, and your >willpower is stronger than I suspected. All irrelevant, of course. >You _will_ discorporate." > /_Original_ host? Oh great, the plot thickens./ Roland fights with >desperate resolve. The Adversary is being dealt with, of that much >Roland is certain, but if Parallax reaches the true battery... The Stranger emerges from the creature cloud and finds himself face to face with an iron man suit. A bright yellow iron man suit. He hesitates for a second and repulsorbeams lash out from the suit, he ducks under them and dives to earth. "It's useless" cries the man in the suit "you're puny ring cannot hurt me!" The Stranger crouches and concentrates, two green hands appear, ripping up great chunks of Oa rock, which shatter against each other, splattering the 'iron man' between them. "I'll improvise then," he observes dryly. > A green mandible lashes out and catches Roland around the waist, >cutting into him with several barbs. He screams. > "There. Now. You _will_ tell me how to access Oa's power." > "In what lifetime, you-AAH!" > "I have the power of a Guardian, I have an army, I have knowledge >beyond the capacity of your pathetic meat brain. What do _you_ have?" The Stranger launches himself towards roland again, "hang on, I'm coming..." > Roland's grimace begins to fade with his consciousness...when he >remembers what a fellow Patron told him. He smiles. > "Faith in the Light." > Roland takes off his Power Ring-it was not meant for him anyway >and throws it down the empty neck of the armor. And for a moment, he >could swear he sees a Green Lantern Corps member form, and Hal Jordan >saluting him with a smile as he flies into the belly of the Beast... The Stranger flies into line of sight and opens up on Parallax. > "You shouldn't have wounded me so badly," he snarls, and the last >of the Green Lantern energy inside him, along with his own PK powers >increased manyfold, creates a giant hand...and with one great index >finger, he flicks Beast II deep into space. The Stranger alights by Roland. "That was the Avatar?" > Despite the victories, though, the battle is only beginning. The >Manhunters are managing to get the remaining forces into line, and >they might still be able to take the battery's power... > /And where the hell is Gruber?/ "Good question, well presented" The Stranger, crouching near Roland, starts ripping apart the enemy forces with blasts of green energy. And searching. =========================== Date: Sun, 3 Nov 1996 17:28:16 -0600 (CST) (47682 & 31) From: grammarfascist From: AJ As the teams set up the various parts of the ambush they are startled to see a figure in manhunter armor trudging across the killing zone. Several weapons are raised and then dropped as the figure is recognized as AJ. "AJ where've you been? What happened? Hey, why didn't those trip wires work?" AJ looks bemused. "One at a time. One at a time. I got separated from the Sasquatch and ended up taking the scenic route. What trip wires? I didn't have any trap detectors or stealth gear except this." AJ holds up the bracelt that he had removed before he began speaking. "Silence gave it to me a while back." "Who's organizing this shindig? Can you use a good man with an SMG?" =========================== Date: Sun, 3 Nov 1996 18:48:49 +0000 (32) From: Silence >Dion spins in place and as he faces each direction a nematon forms. >"Silence, would you be so kind as to step outside of the nematon to >the north and tell me what you see? Stranger, can you spare a moment >to do the same from the south?" Silence walks between two stones of the northern circle. >Unfortunately, this is going to tie up my powers as long as it's up, >and I don't know how long I can keep it up when they try to send >things through it, but it should last for at least one good volley or >charge." Silence nods. "If you need any additional strength," she says, "don't hesitate to ask. What with this ring, I've got more than I need." =========================== Date: Sun, 3 Nov 1996 18:54:49 +0000 (33) From: Silence >From: Paul Campbell >Xzerrion staggers, catching himself abruptly on an outstretched arm, >/he wasn't quite good enough. Damn good thing I remembered my amulet >though, or I'd never have pulled this off./ Without appearing to travel the intervening distance, Silence is next to Xzerrion and helps him to regain his balance. Sitting him down firmly on a rock, she begins to whisper closed the largest injuries and bandage up the cuts and bruises. When she's finished, she looks for a moment as though she's about to tell him precisely what she thinks of him getting into a fight right before a big battle--but instead, suddenly, she puts her arms around him and hugs him close (gently, and careful of the injuries, but warmly nonetheless). Very softly, she says, /I was getting worried. It's good to see you back./ Then, businesslike, she begins to pack things back into her bag. Her intentness and dark skin don't quite hide the blush rising to her face. =========================== Date: Sun, 3 Nov 1996 19:12:19 +0000 (34) From: Silence On Sun, 3 Nov 1996, Roland X wrote: > (OOC: I'm going to be ABEND in two weeks-going to see my parents >in Florida-so I hope no one minds my moving things along. Feel free >to fit your own parts in here wherever you wish; I'll do my best to >aid any Callahanians in distress. After all, you folx _did_ just save >my bacon! ) "No problem here." > The approaching force is now visible to the naked eye. *Okay, >folx, here they come. Wait for 'Sinestro' to greet the avatar; when >he explodes, you know what to do. Hit hard and fast and mind the >crossfire, and we can take these clowns.* Silence nods tightly, her eyes fixed on the shimmers of green just ahead of the advancing army. >it through this, but...I just want to say...I can't think of a better >bunch of rummies to fight alongside, to make my stand with.* /Same here./ Silence's mental voice is firm. > Roland smiles then, and looks out at the approaching force. >*Places people,* he 'says' in his best mock-Hollywood voice. *We have >magic to make!* She nods and takes up her place within the pseudo-Battery. > The science-ficton forces remain, but in smaller numbers. NOW >there are the dark Sidhe of Xzerrion's kind, and miniature dragons, >and infernalists...and orcs. > Not the orcs Roland has spent a lifetime fighting in fictons where >they are a joke, though...these are _Tolkien_ orcs, elvenkind twisted >by their own desire and greed. Silence's face suddenly loses all trace of emotion. /Xerrion, take them while you can--because anything you leave behind is _mine_. I think we both have scores to settle with that kind./ > The Adversary's light-murdering energy wavers for a moment, and >the army hits the first mine field at that exact moment. Silence feels a momentary satisfaction as at least two thirds of the army is caught under the sudden double avalanche. As the hillsides bury elves, orcs, and Manhunters alike, the visibility also increases. She takes advantage of the sudden chaos to move to the edge of the Battery, still just barely inside its emerald gleam, sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. > The Callahanian attack's efficiency surprises even Roland. The >Adversary is nowhere to be found; Roland suspects that the Stardragon >has something to do with that. The various troops comprising the >enemy forces fire at once, almost in a panic-and the inversion field >turns their massive volley inward. And the Sidhe he'd so feared can't >seem to concentrate enough to get any spells off. /High-frequency >sonics will do that,/ Roland thinks with a laugh. Silence ducks around and runs straight through the edge of the throng, cutting her way through. She ducks behind an outcropping of rock--and inside it. Within is half of the crossfire, intent on picking off enemy troops, but the one she had expected to find is nowhere in sight. Looking out, she sees an orc suddenly shriek and clap a hand to its neck, and as it falls, she can just catch a glimpse of green-flecked black wings. /I'll just have to go this one alone,/ she decides, and slips out the back of the "rock". Once there, she begins methodically picking out the wounded on the battlefield and making sure that they're dead, because resisting her healer's instincts is already difficult. In the background, she hears the bone-shattering whistle of her tripwire. > And within that armor...to quote Our Patron: > "It was a cockroach. In a little cockroach pressure suit..." > The laughter seemed to shake Oa itself, and paralyzed the little >monster, just as it had another rebel of its kind. Silence stares, and for the first time in far too long, truly begins to laugh. Only for a moment, though, and then she returns to dispatching foot soldiers; just because the chicken's head is cut off doesn't mean the thing will stop running around. /Good job, Roland!/ she calls out with a spare moment, smoothly running an orc through. Casting a professional eye over his injuries, she decides that he can heal quickly enough without her help. /Now stop gloating and come help us fight. The battle's not even half won./ =========================== Date: Sun, 3 Nov 96 21:38:43 -0500 (47739 & 35) From: Roland X >>I said: >> And Roland suddenly, finally, realizes where his dark side's >>power comes from. >> The pain. >> "You shouldn't have wounded me so badly," he snarls, and the last >>of the Green Lantern energy inside him, along with his own PK powers >>increased manyfold, creates a giant hand...and with one great index >>finger, he flicks Beast II deep into space. Then Stranger (pe21@dial.pipex.com) said, after helping save my hide: > The Stranger alights by Roland. > "That was the Avatar?" Roland nods. *Indeed it was, Stranger, and thanks for the save. But the Adversary has separated from it-* Roland looks up, and sighs as Beast II is incinerated by a more pragmatic warrior- *-which means that it can't take another avatar for a _long_ time.* Roland's energy seems to crackle around him; he concentrates on preventing the Manhunters from harming the Green Lanterns that several Callahanians have become. *Not that that will be a problem; once Sharakai is through with it, I doubt it will be leaving its realm of nightmares for some time. If you need help, give a shout!* Then Silence, (silence@main.put.com) added, after cutting an impressive swath through the bad guys and _also_ helping save my hide: >/Good job, Roland!/ she calls out with a spare moment, smoothly >running an orc through. Casting a professional eye over his injuries, >she decides that he can heal quickly enough without her help. /Now >stop gloating and come help us fight. The battle's not even half >won./ *What? And miss the fun? JUSTICE FOREVER!* And with that, Roland dives into the battle. =========================== Date: Mon, 4 Nov 1996 01:37:10 -0600 (47819 & 36) From: "KnightShift (Michael Jon Knight)" The KnightShift waits inside the pseudo-battery, watching events unfold... >Roland wrote: > The approaching force is now visible to the naked eye. *Okay, >folx, here they come. Wait for 'Sinestro' to greet the avatar; when >he explodes, you know what to do. Hit hard and fast and mind the >crossfire, and we can take these clowns.* > Roland grows silent for a moment. *In a few minutes, we're going >to be fighting for our lives. More, we'll be fighting for dozens of >fictons; if we win, countless beings will be able to live free thanks >to our actions. If we lose...well, we won't lose. Some of may not >make it through this, but...I just want to say...I can't think of a >better bunch of rummies to fight alongside, to make my stand with.* The KnightShift smiles at Roland's speech. /I couldn't have said it better myself./ The KnightShift mumbles a few words as he gives a final check of his weapons. As each weapon is spoken over, a small amount of energy seems to rise from the Oan sands, pass through the KnightShift, and enter the weapon. Finally, the KnightShift smiles. /Old Man, watch over us./ >Roland continued: > The science-ficton forces remain, but in smaller numbers. NOW >there are the dark Sidhe of Xzerrion's kind, and miniature dragons, >and infernalists...and orcs. > Not the orcs Roland has spent a lifetime fighting in fictons where >they are a joke, though...these are _Tolkien_ orcs, elvenkind twisted >by their own desire and greed. KnightShift thinks of Frodo and Sam. This bunch will be a pleasure to fight... > And weaving through it all, as ever, are the Manhunters. Keeping >order. Maintaining discipline. Not for long... >Roland continues: > The Callahanian attack's efficiency surprises even Roland. The >Adversary is nowhere to be found; Roland suspects that the Stardragon >has something to do with that. The various troops comprising the >enemy forces fire at once, almost in a panic-and the inversion field >turns their massive volley inward. And the Sidhe he'd so feared can't >seem to concentrate enough to get any spells off. /High-frequency >sonics will do that,/ Roland thinks with a laugh. The KnightShift can hardly contain his glee, watching the bursts of phased-plasma streak across the battlefield. Leaving heat waves in their wake. Various enemy troops are hit as the super heated helium blasts strike their marks. /YES! Way to go, Zach! Your guys are doing great!/ The KnightShift notes the cannon blasts from the shuttle are making short work of some of the manhunters. /Time I leapt into the fray...A good steed would make this job a bit easier. Oh,my kingdom for a horse./ Suddenly, the KnightShift hears a meow behind him. /I know that sound...Pyewackett? What are you doing hear?/ Behind him stands a large, black cat. In the KnightShift's mind he hears, or perhaps more aptly *feels*, /excitement, my tense human, motion, smell of blood, leap, run, fight, help my human/. The KnightShift thinks Pyewackett is too small to help fight here, but almost as he finishs the thought, the cat quickly grows before him, a saddle of sorts on the now horse-sized cat. The KnightShift feels through his bond with his cat /am large, am strong, am fast, my human is slow, must teach my human to fight/ The KnightShift smiles. Mounting this strange steed, the KnightShift says, "Old Man, not what I had in mind, but any port in a storm." The KnightShift thinks, /Come my friend, we have some prey to catch./ Pyewackett crouchs low to the ground, preparing to leap. Ears flattened against his head, Pyewackett lets loose with a low growl, as the KnightShift grins evilly. The bond between them complete, human and feline think as one. /Fresh meat./ The KnightShift...to be continued. =========================== Date: Mon, 4 Nov 1996 04:16:45 -0600 (47820 & 37) From: "KnightShift (Michael Jon Knight)" Muscles tense. Adrenalin flows. Explosions. Cries of terror. Smell of blood, sweat, desert heat. The KnightShift feels all this through his bond with Pyewackett, the former house cat. Now, the size of a horse, the KnightShift astride him, Pyewackett feels the thrills he had experienced when he was younger, hunting mice on the KnightShift's farm. And the KnightShift feels them, too. And he regrets having to take his cat from the farm. Pyewackett feels this, and replys with images, smells, and sounds of his life with the KnightShift. The comfort lying atop the chair the KnightShift reads in. The pleasure of hearing the KnightShift coming up the stairs, coming home. The KnightShift takes comfort in these thoughts. This entire apology and acceptance occurs in a split second. Then, claws digging into the dirt, Pyewackett/KnightShift leaps. As they aproach the battle, the KnightShift senses curiousity. Seeing nothing with his own eyes, he sees through Pyewackett's a shimmering green line across his path. The KnightShift looks at his wrist, no bracelet! /Silence's tripwire! The Hypersonic traps!/ Pyewackett is confused by these thoughts. /Stainless steel pots and pans, by the thousands hitting the floor, ringing into ultrasonic frequencies, pain exploding in sensitive cat ears/ the KnightShift thinks frantically. Pyewackett understands and sends back a feeling of confidence. /easy to avoid the green pain-givers/ With a grace unpossessed by humans, Pyewackett bounds safely between the traps. Leaping from boulder to boulder, Pyewackett and KnightShift take out the enemy troops emerging from the rubble of the rockslide. As KnightShift sends an arrow into the back of an orc, Pyewackett bites deeply into the armor of one of the Manhunters. As the feline throws the manhunter several yards, the KnightShift smells singed fur and feels something hot hit Pyewackett in the hind leg. Turning in the saddle, the KnightShift sees a stormtrooper aiming for his head. The tomahawk leaves the KnightShift's hand without thought and strikes the stormtrooper in the head, splitting the helmet, and leaving a deep cut in the Stormtrooper's forehead. The tomahawk reappears in the KnightShift's hand. A part of the KnightShift's mind notes the harm he is causing, and starts to get scared. But the heat of battle, and his new link with Pyewackett, prevent him from dwelling on it. How many of these people joined the Adversary willingly? They made their choices. One can't save them all. Pyewackett forces the KnightShift back to the task at hand. As Pyewackett bats an orc into a nearby boulder, the KnightShift realizes just how alien his companian's mind is. The cat is feeling a great amount of pleasure in this battle. The enemy are toys in Pyewackett's deadly game. But the KnightShift realizes this is no game. The KnightShift concentrates through the mental bond, attempting to reassert some control to the cat's actions. /If I get more introspective, I'm liable to get my friends hurt. Fight now, reflect later./ Drawing his Claymore, the KnightShift turns Pyewackett around for another run through the enemy forces. /When this is over, Old Man, god or not, we will talk./ The KnightShift. [OCC NOTE: Started thinking how dangerous to a human psyche a human/animal link might be. Thought it might be worth exploring. :) ] =========================== Date: Mon, 4 Nov 1996 12:59:03 -0600 (47821 & 38) From: "Dane R. Anderson" Roland X Wrote > "An excellent observation, Parallax. Adversary, surely you must >now accept me as the superior host." > Parallax flickers. /Come on, come on, get pissed-/ > *Agreed,* the Adversary broadcasts, and Roland's jaw drops in >shock. PLEASED shock. > /Bloody Nass! Bloody sprocking NASS! I knew the Adversary was >greedy, but this-!/ His smile almost hurts as the Adversary's dark >energy slinks out of Parallax. > "NO!" Parallax roars. "We have an agreement! Forces, ATTACK! >DESTROY that abomination Sinestro!" > The Adversary cannot be without a host for very long. It therefore >does its best to make transition time as short as possible; given the >work required to prepare a host, only something on the order of >Sinestro's offer would even cause it to consider such a thing. Its >time 'outside' can be measured in microseconds, typically. > Sinestro vanished. > The Adversary's light-murdering energy wavers for a moment, and >the army hits the first mine field at that exact moment. In that moment Stardragon bellows, on a mental band too high for any but the Adversary and itself to "hear", _Face ME foulness_, and takes battle form. The enemy forces see, above and behind the false battery, a tiny spark appear and then billow outward until a gigantic, winged, draconic form of pure golden light is visible, spanning the valley, on the hills of each side one foot resting comfortably. The Adversary now knowing why it is able to still be here, without a host, launches itself at the Stardragon, summoning up the rest of its power and being. Those looking up see a gigantic winged serpent, of blackness, coiling about the golden light form of the dragon. Each blasting the other with power, the dragon's breath a pure white energy, the serpent using a corosive, light killing black, venom spray. Each does terrible damage to the other. As the battle in the valley winds down, suddenly the Adversary vanishes in a blast of the Stardragon's breath. The Stardragon transforms into a mist of energy which coalesces into a childlike form. A manhunter and an orc nearby, seeing an easy kill attack, and disappear in an explosion of sparks. One of the dark Sidhe, watching, turns and runs, knowing better than to attack the Stardragon. Soon all the remaining dark Sidhe in the valley are fleeing away from where the Stardragon sits. They have long memories and remember what happened the last time they fought it and those it allied itself with. They want nothing to do with the devastation it could unleash. The Stardragon sits, resting and recovering slowing from its injuries. The Adversary was stronger than ever before, it (the Stardragon) has been severly wounded and will take a long long time to fully recover. Fortuneately it will be even longer before the Adversary can return. Sitting the childlike form ignores the remainder of the battle around it, nothing on this world has the power to harm it. its allies wouldn't attack it, and any enemy so foolish would deserve the results. =========================== Date: 4 Nov 1996 20:12:36 GMT (47853 & 39) From: ofgerst@pluto.njcc.com (Martin Gerster) >From: AJ >As the teams set up the various parts of the ambush they are startled >to see a figure in manhunter armor trudging across the killing zone. >Several weapons are raised and then dropped as the figure is >recognized as AJ. > >"AJ where've you been? What happened? Hey, why didn't those trip >wires work?" AJ looks bemused. "One at a time. One at a time. I got >separated from the Sasquatch and ended up taking the scenic route. >What trip wires? I didn't have any trap detectors or stealth gear >except this." AJ holds up the bracelt that he had removed before he >began speaking. "Silence gave it to me a while back." > >"Who's organizing this shindig? Can you use a good man with an SMG?" In the Oan sky, high above the sounds of blood and thunder generated by the melee between the Callahanians and the Pawns of the Adversary, suddenly appears a huge Babylon 5-style Jump-point. Lightning plays up and down the length of the hyperspace construct and equaly as suddenly, the ruby, carnelian, amber & ivory form of Dhyrclhanc the Lensdragon appears in the Oan sky. As the Jump-point closes down, the Lensdragon's "normal" near 16' tall/long form doubles in size. "Ah, it's good to be 'back'! As much as it's necessary, I dislike having to restrict my form like that." The Lensdragon searches the ground for a familiar face /Am I too late for the Fireworks?!/ he mentaly shouts to his fellow Callahanians. The Lens on the leather headpiece on his forehead and the four other emerald powergems he wears all flare up. When the glare clears, he is holding in on hand a huge weapon that looks like an obsene git of a stryker-style shotgun and a hellicopter (sp?) mount mini-gun, the other hand holds a huge claymore-style two-handed greatsword made out of emerald flame. Surrounding, Dhyrclhanc's huge (now more than 32' tall/long) form is a blazing aura made also made of emerald fire in the shape of a dragon which easily blots out a quarter of the visible sky. /'I am Cain, I will help you'/ mentaly sniggers the Lensdragon. /BTW, Sorry I'm late guys!/ (Do me a favor my friends; e-mail all responses to my on-line address below so I can keep up with the rest of you) I remain... -- Dhyrclhanc the Lensdragon (aka Martin Gerster c/o ofgerst@pluto.njcc.com) @>-->---- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "You don't understand. I don't particulary like violence, it's just a hobby of mine." -- Colonel Richard Colin Campbell Long ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "And they made a very satsifying 'thump' when they hit the floor!" -- 'Ambasador' G'Kar ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Having trouble breathing?" -- Callahan "No, I think my pilot light's gone out." -- Dhyrclhanc ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =========================== Date: Tue, 5 Nov 96 22:19:14 -0500 (48102 & 40) From: Roland X >On 11/03/96 the grammarfascist wrote... Before the battle had begun, AJ said: >>As the teams set up the various parts of the ambush they are >>startled to see a figure in manhunter armor trudging across the >>killing zone. Several weapons are raised and then dropped as the >>figure is recognized as AJ. Roland sighs, smiling despite himself. (OOC: You folx can decide which quote below is mine. ) >>"AJ where've you been? What happened? Hey, why didn't those trip >>wires work?" AJ looks bemused. "One at a time. One at a time. I got >>separated from the Sasquatch and ended up taking the scenic route. >>What trip wires? I didn't have any trap detectors or stealth gear >>except this." AJ holds up the bracelt that he had removed before he >>began speaking. "Silence gave it to me a while back." >> >>"Who's organizing this shindig? Can you use a good man with an SMG?" Roland nods. *In here, with the rest of us in the counterfeit battery.* He grins widely; he can't resist. *Anyway, does making a false battery fit into the plan while opposing the Adversry make me a counter fitter?* Later, once the fight had begun, the Lensdragon (ofgerst@pluto.njcc.com) joined in, saying: >In the Oan sky, high above the sounds of blood and thunder generated >by the melee between the Callahanians and the Pawns of the Adversary, >suddenly appears a huge Babylon 5-style Jump-point. Lightning plays >up and down the length of the hyperspace construct and equaly as >suddenly, the ruby, carnelian, amber & ivory form of Dhyrclhanc >the Lensdragon appears in the Oan sky. As the Jump-point closes down, >the Lensdragon's "normal" near 16' tall/long form doubles in size. > >"Ah, it's good to be 'back'! As much as it's necessary, I dislike >having to restrict my form like that." > >The Lensdragon searches the ground for a familiar face /Am I too late >for the Fireworks?!/ he mentaly shouts to his fellow Callahanians. Roland smacks a Klingon and an orc together, saying *What do _you_ think?* with a laugh. The two darkling warriors turn on one another, and Roland moves deeper into the chaos of the infighting. More soldiers fall to the sonic mines, but the Manhunters and the Sidhe seem to have mastered the trick of avoiding them. >The Lens on the leather headpiece on his forehead and the four other >emerald powergems he wears all flare up. When the glare clears, he is >holding in on hand a huge weapon that looks like an obsene git of a >stryker-style shotgun and a hellicopter (sp?) mount mini-gun, the >other hand holds a huge claymore-style two-handed greatsword made out >of emerald flame. Surrounding, Dhyrclhanc's huge (now more than 32' >tall/long) form is a blazing aura made also made of emerald fire in >the shape of a dragon which easily blots out a quarter of the visible >sky. *Light have mercy,* Roland says, watching in awe. *You aren't related to Sharakai, are you?* >/'I am Cain, I will help you'/ mentaly sniggers the Lensdragon. Roland laughs again-this time, though, his inattentiveness finally costing him as a Manhunter catches him from behind. The infamous golden staff of their warrior creed cracks him squarely across the back of the head, and the Manhunter in question looks down with surprisingly unprofessional hatred. "No man escapes the Manhunters," the warrior snarls, quoting the credo of his kind. >/BTW, Sorry I'm late guys!/ /No problem,/ Roland thinks dryly, diving clumsily away from the Manhunter's 'killing' blow. He propels himself along with a silvery PK 'push,' skimming across the sands of Oa. The Manhunter moves forward, and a pair of orcs step in front of the sliding immortal. /Uh-oh./ Roland looks around; the battle in the sky rages on, but those are the only allies he can see. >(Do me a favor my friends; e-mail all responses to my on-line address >below so I can keep up with the rest of you) Will this do? ;^) TBC, of course... =========================== Date: Wed, 06 Nov 96 03:10:50 PST (48105 & 41) From: Martin Gerster Below is the current point of your saga, as told to me by Roland X, feel free to join in at any time, I know I will. The rest of you rummies will have to figure out who's quotes are whose. > /Uh-oh./ Roland looks around; the battle in the sky rages on, but >those are the only allies he can see. (BTW, Please include me on the aae@kestrel.scs.uiuc.edu "mailing list" from now on, so I can keep up with the rest of you from now on -- Dhyrclhanc/Martin) Our story continues: /No, I'm not any relation to any "Sharakai" or any "Shakari" either/ Dhryclhanc the Lensdragon broacasts down to Roland as they both renter the battle/I'm simply an Exhalted Ruby Fire Dragon with a mind at the Second-Stage of Stability who happens to be a Unattached Lensman who also just hapens to repeatedly get caught up in the various wars between Law and Chaos that crop in fictions of the Multiverse because I'm appearently both an Inter-dimentional Troubleseeker and a Weirdness Magnet/Dhyrclhanc takes a mental inhale and then envelops Roland, the Manhunter and the two Orcs in a huge cone of flame. When the blast subsides, Roland is untouched but the Orcs are left suffering from 2nd degree burns and the Manhunter's is welded into a shell composed of a single piece of melted metal. /I wasn't sure about the Manhunter, but I knew that would take care of those Orcs. Happy to help, Roland. Keep the faith and always remember the adopted son of Titan and the father of Legacy/ The Lensdragon soars high into the Oan sky. /I certainly don't know what it is about this place which is making me so powerfull, but I'd certainly be a fool not to take advantage of it/ Dhyrclhanc notices a large group of Callahainans rapidly being approached by a column of armored vehicles. Swooping down, the Lensdragon returns the "sidearm" to the dragon-sized duffle-bag on his back. He grips the emerald-fire claymore in both hands now and gleefully cuts a swath right through the line of motorized cavalry (sp?). Cheers erupt from the ground pounders he saved. He smiles back at them, truly an awe inspiring sight. Further on, he lands and switches back to strange looking vaguely rifle-like weapon. Removing a mechanized harness from his duffle-bag, he puts this on, around his shoulders, and attaches the weapon to it. Filing towards him across the Oan landscape is a large column of armored humaniod figures. "I don't know who this 'Adversary' is getting to do his equipment appropriations, or his budget negociations, for that matter, but I recognize X-O Man-o-Wars, various model Iron Man suits and, of course lots, of Manhunters, in there." Cold, life-less, faces stared back at the Lensdragon from the faceplates of the suits of armor approching him. "Well they may not all be Mannhunter Armor, but they sure look to me like they're all Mannhunter androids. If they aren't alive then I don't have to worry about using this thing." saying so, Dhyrclhanc flips a series of switches on his weapon. Immedatiatly a blue-gold lens-shaped force shield materializes in front of the Lensdragon. Dhyrclanc then pulls one of the weapon's triggers and, as the force-shield flickers, the gattling-style minigun starts spitting out pulses of purple-red energy at the onrush of figures. As the beams touch the armored figures, explosions shatter the alien atmosphere, where as the enery discharges from the androids' armors splash harmlessly off of the flickering force shield. When the lifeless troops lie motionless in the sand of the strange planet, Dhyrclanc ceases firing. "Well," he says finaly, "that was fun. And fun's fun but a guy can't dance all night. I should probably high-tail it back to that 'false power battery' back there and see if somebody can't fill me in on the finer details of what, exactly is going on here." "I do love this 'Standish', though." he sighs. The Lensdragon grips the 'Standish' in both hands and launches his ruby, carnelian, amber and ivory form staight up into the slowly oncoming alien evening. ===========================