Action, Adventure, Excitement, Part 9: Nile Empire / Pulp Chapter 1 Subject: AAE 9n: Interludes Among Enemies I (Pulp) On Tue, 04 Nov 2003 23:25:26 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00011440 Alone among the High Lords, Pharaoh Mobius I (aka the infamous Doctor Mobius, criminal mastermind) was looking forward to facing the ronin Storm Knight again. Not that many of his colleagues were not looking forward to destroying Roland Phoenix -- Thratchen in particular -- but none were particularly eager to go through the actual process. The future-born masked avenger, however, had a suitable appreciation for style, drama, and challenge, and facing a worthy opponent who _respected_ him was a truly intoxicating experience. Mobius was eagerly anticipating their second round. For now, however, he could settle for his current victories. As often happened when he invaded an Earth-like reality, an island of woman warriors -- amazons -- had appeared in a lake in Libya, both lake and island created when the reality changed. As was typical for the island, it was called Hespera, and a descendant of this world's amazons (named Hippolyta after the ancient queen) had become their leader. They were given impressive pulp powers of strength and speed by a great Flame of Power, as usual. This march of ordinariness had diverged wildly when this world's Hippolyta had decided to embrace the Nile Empire's Law of Drama fully, and attacked his palace single-handed. To her credit, it had taken Mobius himself to defeat her. However, she now lay chained at the foot of his throne, occasionally struggling savagely. The Pharaoh found her far more ornamental than the usual serving girls, and while his Overgovernor Natatiri was both equally attractive and far more cooperative, he would trust the amazon queen with a dagger at his back before he would trust Natatiri with a needle at ten paces. Another delight was the unexpected capture of the Silver Scarab -- another foe who seemed to develop cognates in every world -- by Wu Han's replacement, Wu Ming. (Mobius felt that his empire was simply _not_ complete without an oriental criminal genius to give his realm a certain flavor.) The hero, hands bound behind him and the mighty Scarab's Sting in Mobius' own hands, was glaring at the High Lord with a decidedly satisfying grimace. "So," Mobius began, careful to give his voice the necessary booming menace so as to conceal his delight, "this is Earth-9's Silver Scarab." He turned the Scarab's Sting pistol, an exquisite piece of pulp technology, over and over in his hands. "Not the equal of the original, to be sure, yet still impressive." Hippolyta leapt suddenly, her chains pulling taut with a loud clash as she strained in furious defiance. Shocktroopers jumped back. Wu Ming pulled out a dart laden with deadly toxins. Ramses, his personal bodyguard and most loyal Overgovernor, had his sword out and was between Hippolyta and Mobius before she had reached the end of her chain. Mobius ignored her. "Perhaps, Mobius," the Scarab shot back heroically, "but the _real_ Scarab won't be so easy to catch." Mobius smiled. Both heroes paled. "Won't he?" He pointed the Sting casually at Hippolyta and pulled the trigger. A jolt of lightning, with a blast worthy of Olympus itself, shot into the helpless woman, who was soon convulsing on the floor. "You FIEND!" The Scarab leapt at Mobius himself, only to be pulled back and beaten by several shocktroopers until the Pharaoh raised his hand. They stopped as if a switch had been thrown, and soon retreated. "It is well known that the Silver Scarab does not kill if he can help it," Mobius exposited. "Your Sting will take the fight out of my exquisite, captive queen for a few minutes, but do her no lasting harm." "Great Pharaoh," Rama-Tet, the Pharaoh's Vizier and master of mathematical magic (yes, the Mathemagician should have fun here ;^), "perhaps it would be best to simply do away with the masked fool now." He looked down at the helpless amazon with cold calculation. "Surely you have enough bait for any hero such as our world's Silver Scarab." "Ah, my dear Rama-Tet," Mobius replied silkily, "you are indeed wise and brilliant. And yet, there is a certain artistry to these matters that you have never determined to appreciate." His smile grew more menacing, if anything, as he leered at the Scarab before him. "I think the attempt to rescue his precious protege from the clutches of certain death will prove _irresistable_ to the original Scarab. And, after all, there is the Red Hand's new Electrocutioner to test." The faux-Scarab's eyes went wide behind his domino mask and wide-brimmed hat, then narrowed. All present knew that the Red Hand and the real Silver Scarab had been trading electro-gun blasts for years. "This isn't over, Mobius. You haven't seen the last of the Silver Scarab." "Oh, I hope not, my boy," Mobius replied jovially. "After all, it wouldn't do for the Silver Scarab to miss the Empire carrying out sentence...on the Silver Scarab!" He laughed maniacally as Wu Ming's warriors, trained in mysterious Eastern combat arts, dragged the defiant hero away. The young would-be Scarab kept his eyes locked on the Pharaoh until the doors of the chamber cut him off. Mobius took off his flared gloves and rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Well. That's that. WINE!" he roared, clapping his hands. A palace slave was at his side in an instant, a goblet filled with the finest grape his Empire could offer on a tray. The Pharaoh took it gracefully, then strode down the stairs to sit by the heroine's side. With surprising gentleness, he cupped her chin in his hand and (to several gasps among his court) offered her a drink. Weakly, she glared up at him, then spat at Dr. Mobius' feet. "Drink," Mobius said, his voice as shockingly urbane as his new manner, "and I will spare the boy if his mentor comes to the rescue, regardless of the outcome." Hippolyta stopped short at that, looking up in amazement into the Pharaoh's all-concealing hood. Eyes downcast, she nodded. The drink, much to her surprise, was not laced with any of the concoctions she was expecting -- no poison, mind-control drug, or strange mutagen. "Why?" she whispered when she was done and Mobius straightened. Stopping after one step back towards his throne, Mobius looked over his shoulder back at Hippolyta. "What good is eternal life if that life is lived without majesty?" Hippolyta could only stare, trying to grasp the paradox of the man, as he returned to his quest to crush all that lay before him. [Or...is that _really_ what he's after? Who in Hera's name _are_ you, Doctor Mobius?] =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On Sat, 20 Mar 2004 14:09:49 -0800 Nemo Said As CAoL Message # 00011773 >On Sat, 20 Mar 2004 00:09:15 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00011766 > > "All right, form up. I'll be leading the team into the Nile >Empire, and Solitaire will be leading the team into the Middle-Earth >realm. The current plan is to contact the local resistance, find out >what we can, then do a special forces style insertion into the heart >of their power and take out the problems at their source -- the High >Lords and their Darkness Devices. The cosmics will then restore the >Possibility Energy to the victims of the invasion, protecting them >from the ensuing reality backlash. Start shooting holes in it." Defender feels a slip of paper appear in his hand. When he has a moment to check, it'll have a name and an address in Cairo. Along with a scrawled "they can help... N" =========================== Subject: AAE9n: A Miraculous Escape On Thu, 25 Mar 2004 15:23:36 -0800 Nemo Said As CAoL Message # 00011859 Inside the Caliph's palace in Cairo (now in use as Overgovernor Wu Ming's headquarters), a figure lurked behind a hanging. She muttered to herself, "Great, another boring meeting. When are they gonna get to the important stuff?" "Yes, yes. You've got problems with the merchants complaining about petty theivery. You can handle that quite well on your own. What is it that requires *my* attention?" asked Ming. The Overgovernor was of the classic "Oriental mastermind" mold right done the the drooping mustache and the silk robe. "A thousand pardons, Excellency. We are still having problems with petty sabotage and ambushs of patrols in the city." The heavyset man reporting this looked nervous. "You told me you were laying traps!" "We have, Excellency. But they never catch the perpetrators!" The girl behind the hanging smiled. They'd caught her several times, but never known it... "Explain yourself." The tone implied that the explanation had best be very good. Sweating profusely, the chief of police reported, "We've set up targets that were obvious, but not too obvious. With hidden forces all around them. Several have been attacked. But even though we've had an area several blocks across sealed off in seconds, when we did a building by building search, the attacker wasn't to be found! The only people who remotely resembled the man or woman that had been seen were taken, but we determined that they weren't the persons we were looking for." "We're still holding them, but they just don't work as the attackers..." The watcher made a note to see if breaking out those innocent people would be possible without making things worse for them. Being in the dungeons that passed as holding cells was bad. But being on the run wouldn't be much better, and if they were re-captured, it didn't bear thinking about. The only response to the report was a frown. "I.. I hesitate to ask, Excellency. But these rebels are beyond us. We need more resources. Especially with the ceremony next week." Aha! This was what she'd hoped for. Info on a better way to strike back. Wu Ming mused aloud, "The execution ceremony of the troublemaker Silver Scarab *must* go perfectly. We..." "Mrrow?" Baraka looked down in shock at the cat sitting at her feet. "What's that?" "Just a cat.." "Yes, but what has it found back there?" She could hear chairs sliding away from the table. Damn! She headed for the door she'd snuck in thru. It slid open and... "What have we here?" Guards! One grabbed at her and she threw him across the hall with no apparent effort. Then she pulled an object from a pouch at her waist and thru it to the floor. Instantly the hallway was full of smoke. She ran down the hall making turns by memory and was out of the building. But behind her she could hear feet in pursuit. She ducked around a corner. Dead end! She smiled. She hadn't intended this, but... The guards pounded around the corner. And stopped at seeing the alleyway dead end a few dozen yards ahead. Nothing but a few high, narrow windows, and a man napping against the wall. "You! Did you see a girl run in here a moment ago?" "Wha?" The man shook himself. "Can't a man rest himself?" The guard repeated the question. "I was asleep. I didn't see or hear anything until you woke me up." The guards conferred. More guards appeared. One was one of the pair that had surprised the girl. "Is this the person you you saw?" "Him? He'd make *four* of her!" They searched the man anyway. One guard joked "We have to make sure you aren't hiding her under your robe." The man smiled inside while maintaining as much of an annoyed expression as he felt was safe around frustrated police and guards. Finally, they let him go and started searching the buildings. He walked home slowly, stopping to pick up a few things for dinner. And also to make sure he wasn't being followed. When he arrived, he locked the door and set his purchases on the table. Then he closed his eyes for a moment and his form *flowed* into that of the girl. =========================== Subject: AAE9n: The Journey to the Nile On Thu, 25 Mar 2004 18:13:37 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00011861 "Actually, I rather like Gaia." Violet replies to Eric's comments about his particular ficton's planetary-diety. "It is strange. Usually I go out of my way to avoid prolonged involvement wiht any entity more powerful, say, than a dragon." "Here, however, I've already fought several gods, channeled another, helped dismantle some other entity even more powerful, then I've got another Dreamself who is, well, not throwing, but certainly lobbing herself gently at one of the gods the curtain rose to me fighting. Top it all off, I _offered_ to avatar myself, if it is necessary. I wonder what it is about this world?" "Eric - do we have to use the Aurora Express? I'd really rather Trump, if we can. I hate being moved about at someone else's whim." Violet pauses. "Gad. I do sound like you - but wordier." She tries to sound flabbergasted, but it comes out in his own drily wry tone, instead. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On Fri, 26 Mar 2004 19:39:17 -0500 Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011862 [Ed. Snip of stuff that's in AAE9-21.] Meanwhile, in an ancient ruin somewhere in the Egyptian desert.... Buck was mighty puzzled at what he saw ahead of him. "Say Jonesy.." said the tall man in a hillbilly drawl, sounding like warm molasses stirred with a spoon. "I may be from the Tennessee hills, but where I come from, this here map you gave me is what we would call a 'bum steer'. I don't see nothin' here but sand, sun, but very little sweetwater." >From his vantage, Jones the archeologist was a tall man....but Buck was easily a head higher than him. Though both were dressed in khaki gear, the thing that stood out with Buck wasn't just his size, or the large Bowie knife he kept in the front of his belt. Nor was it the ever-present smell of moonshine on his breath. It was the large elephant gun that he was in the process of unlumbering from his backpack, and casually loading. "Now Jonesy...." said the man-mountain, "I understand that you are a 'arkeyologist' but a man has to make a living. No treasure, no deal." The leather fedora on top of Jones' head flapped a little in the hot desert breeze, but did not get carried away. The whip at his side stayed there, though he was fingering the handle nervously. [All this for fortune and glory. How I managed to be saddled with a half-drunken hillbilly straight out of the mountains, I will never know. Note to self: Never go out drinking with Marion ever again.] Dr. Henry 'Indiana' Jones, Jr flashed his boyish "Trust-me" grin. "Come on, Tennessee. Don't tell me you've never heard of the Lost Benben Stone of Ptah?" "Tennessee" Buck spat a wad of chewing tobacco on the ground near a sun-baked rock. It sizzled in the afternoon sun that was bearing down on the two men like a giant eye, ever watching. "Yeah, I heard of it. Most folks that came out this way never came back. Somethin' about a curse of Ra. Only cursin' I ever heard of was my pappy when he'd get a fifth of lightnin' in his belly." "Well, I rarely believe in magic and superstition anyway," said Dr. Jones wryly, "but evidence has supported that many have tried to find the Stone and the Forge of Ptah. Supposedly he who puts the Stone on the Wheel can make anything. It's a great cultural and archelogical find because it proves that meteorites were used in blacksmithing back in ancient times. This is the last known location of the Stone, and I intend to find it. Once it's found, you only have to fly me to Cairo where I can confirm the date of it...then you will get your share." The man-mountain spat again, "Ah hope so, Dr. Jones. I would hate for someone of yo' reputation to end up in trouble. As it is, The Pharoah's men are combing the country looking for artifacts as well." As Buck speaks, he turns to his right and squints into the sun. He looks down a bit, and gets his binoculars out. Off in the distance to the east, a cloud of dust appears. Tennessee peered out onto the horizon, and drew a bead on the dustcloud. "And it looks like they followed my plane, too." "Aw damn." said Indy, " Well, I better get cracking on the temple. Try to hold them off, if you can." "No problem, Indy," said Buck, removing the binoculars. He unloaded the couch gun, and placed it on the ground. He reached into his large backpack and pulled out a .50 calibur Sharpe and a .30-30 "My daddy didn't take me huntin' just for sport and feeding us kids you know." He loaded the chamber in the Sharpe and sighted the sights, while Indy made his way to the entrance of the temple. TBC =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On 26 Mar 2004 22:29:35 -0800, In alt.callahans Peter Eng Said As CAoL Message # 00011864 >Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Post # 00009488 [snip In Which Doctor Energy is Given a System Upgrade] >The coat is half open, revealing a trimmer Romanov, with the >trademarked goatee and goggles over his eyes. He removes the goggles, >and his eyes are a bright blue with red flecks in the iris. He turns >to the Dragon, and looks up....and up....and up, squaring his gaze in >the dragons' eye. "You have my thanks, good friend. And now, those >that are going to the Nile Empire...follow me to the B.O.R.I.S. >outside." Rob adjusts his borrowed leather vest, worn over a white silk shirt from his backpack. The vest is mostly pockets, complementing the khaki cargo pants. Judging by the look of things, he actually has an empty pocket. >And with that, the good doctor turns and marches out the door into >the courtyard where transport to The Nile Empire awaits. He gestures >at the giant zeppelin, and a gangplank emerges from the side of the >ship. He steps up on the walkway and motions for those going to >follow him. He goes inside and takes a seat in the cockpit. #Activate >start up sequence, Ana.# >#Yes, Uncle. Initiating pre-flight checkup and diagnostic subroutine. >Checking gas level in balloon.# A moment passes, then Ana "speaks" >through the cyberlink, #Pre-flight checkup and diagnostic routine >finished. All systems are within operating parameters. Starting main >energy fusion drive." There is a HUMMMMMM and a rumble as the engines >on the ship warm up. The street fighter finds a comfortable crate in the cargo area, then pauses. /Doctor, how long will this flight take? Normally, I'd consider a zeppelin flight from the eastern U.S. to Egypt to be at least ten hours, and probably more like twenty, but this is hardly a normal zeppelin./ =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On Sat, 27 Mar 2004 10:08:12 -0500 Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011865 >On 26 Mar 2004 22:29:35 -0800, In alt.callahans >Peter Eng Said As CAoL Message # 00011864 > > The street fighter finds a comfortable crate in the cargo area, >then pauses. /Doctor, how long will this flight take? Normally, I'd >consider a zeppelin flight from the eastern U.S. to Egypt to be at >least ten hours, and probably more like twenty, but this is hardly a >normal zeppelin./ The Good Doctor turns his internal cameras on, activating the internal PA system. "Actually, I plan on cutting the flight time to half that. Once we are airborne, the jets will kick in and rocket us to our destination. Once we reach the border between the Nile Empire and Core Earth, however, I will have to cut the engines and run on propeller power. In fact, at this point I don't know if we are going to make a sea landing or ground deployment. But I do know that we can get there in 5 hours or less, depending on the winds." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On Sat, 27 Mar 2004 11:42:18 -0800 Patrick O'Shea Said As CAoL Message # 00011866 >On Sat, 27 Mar 2004 10:08:12 -0500 >Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011865 > >The Good Doctor turns his internal cameras on, activating the >internal PA system. "Actually, I plan on cutting the flight time to >half that. Once we are airborne, the jets will kick in and rocket us >to our destination. Once we reach the border between the Nile Empire >and Core Earth, however, I will have to cut the engines and run on >propeller power. In fact, at this point I don't know if we are going >to make a sea landing or ground deployment. But I do know that we can >get there in 5 hours or less, depending on the winds." Patrick glances out the window, then asks: "Forgive me if this has already been covered, but once we're in the Nile Empire area, where should we go from there? Straight to this Dr. Mobius' place, or some place for us to regroup?" =========================== Subject: AAE 9n: Indiana Jones and the Forge of Ptah On Sat, 27 Mar 2004 14:46:52 -0500 Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011867 Indy duck-walked down the dune where he and Buck had setup a vantage point. At the bottom of the dune, in a valley surrounded by larger sand dunes, sat a number of Egyptian ruins. To Indy's trained eye, the ruins were what remained to a lost temple of Ptah. Several pieces of axe-heads, spear-heads and long since passed on chariot wheels were strewn about the site like a child's playpen. Against one dune sat a doorway, it's gaping mouth dark like the entrance to a unlit forge. Above the doorway, heiroglyphics were carved into the rock. Indy translated, "He Who Seeks The Stone and Forge without Purity shall perish." [I never met a trap I couldn't figure out.] thought Indy as he made his way among the debris and crumbling stonework to the entrance. As he pulled the flashlight out of his backpack, he made his way casually to the inside of the chamber. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, it appeared to be a small temple. On the side wall of the chamber were heiroglyphics. "First you must Fire the Will in the Forge of your Heart, to purify the Stone of Regrets. Then you must breathe the breath of life to move the spirit. Then you must strike while the metal of your soul is hot, then bathe in the waters of life." said Indy, translating the heiroglyphs again. "Sounds easy enough...." he looked around and found a pillar on which a stone rested. On the pillar the words, "The Stone in your Heart must be cleansed by the waters." Looking around, he saw a cistern resting next the stone. Improvising, he opened his canteen and poured some of the water into the cistern. He then placed the rock inside the cistern. A grinding sound of stone on stone emerged from behing the dias where the pillar stood. >From outside, he heard the unmistakable BOOOOOM! of a Sharpe being fired. "Damn. I hope Buck can hold them off long enough for me to figure this out." Outside the temple, Buck had another of Mobius' leutenants in his sights. He fired again, and the thug dropped like a stone into the sand. He watched as the ground troops scattered and took offensive positions. Some of the long range riflemen in the shocktroops got behind a low dune and began firing. Sand spattered as the rounds missed Buck by a foot or so. He took a long pull from his canteen, and sighted another one of the shocktroopers trying to lead a small group of men towards his position. He fired again, and the headdress from the leutenant flew off his head. The poor man looked around to see where his hat went when Buck fired again and knocked him 10 feet back into the sand, crumpling like a beer can. Buck turned and shouted to the ruins, "Indy, put some wings on it, they're getting close." Indy shone his flashlight into the secret chamber, where a small bronze forge, a set of blacksmith tools and a round rock lay on the rough stone bench. Pulling a duffle bag from his backpack, he placed the forge, the tools and the stone into the bag, and threw them over his shoulder and headed toward the door. As he passed over the Eye of Ra set into the floor, he heard a stone on stone sound, and then the ceiling began to spray oil. He was covered in the nasty mess, and the main area outside was starting to flood with the oil. Looking at the door, he saw that it was slowly grinding closed. Moving fast, he almost slipped on the slippery lamp oil which was covering the floor. As he got close to the door, he rolled underneath. He ran out to the ruins, shouting. "Buck! Let's go. I got them. Let's bug out!" Buck heard him shouting, and yelled "YEEEEE HAW! Let's go!" The two men ran quickly to Bucks' plane which had been secured away from the site some ways off. They just got going down the makeshift runway when they heard a loud BOOOOOM, followed by a great gout of flame from where the ruins were. "I guess some people shouldn't play with fire, eh, Buck. Let's head to Cairo." shouted Indy, since the roar of the flame and the plane were drowning out sound. "That's mighty fine, Indy, but I have some place else in mind. Casablanca isn't nearly as hot as Cairo is right now, and two men trying to sell ancient artifacts from Egypt won't really attract Mobius or The Over-Governor of Cairo's attention. I have a friend who I think can help us. You ever heard of Dr. Emil Romanov?" Indy looked stunned, "Yeah, I have. He was the inventor of the Electrocarbonizer, the most essential tool of any serious archeologist. Why?" "Well," said Buck grinning into the wind, "I think he might be able to tell us what this thing can do." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On 27 Mar 2004 14:56:15 -0800, In alt.callahans Peter Eng Said As CAoL Message # 00011870 >Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Post # 00009489 > >The Good Doctor turns his internal cameras on, activating the >internal PA system. "Actually, I plan on cutting the flight time to >half that. Once we are airborne, the jets will kick in and rocket us >to our destination. Once we reach the border between the Nile Empire >and Core Earth, however, I will have to cut the engines and run on >propeller power. In fact, at this point I don't know if we are going >to make a sea landing or ground deployment. But I do know that we can >get there in 5 hours or less, depending on the winds." "Still enough time for a nap, then," Rob notes, folding his vest into a lumpy pillow. >Patrick O'Shea Said As CAoL Post # 00009490 > >Patrick glances out the window, then asks: "Forgive me if this has >already been covered, but once we're in the Nile Empire area, where >should we go from there? Straight to this Dr. Mobius' place, or some >place for us to regroup?" "It hasn't been covered, and that's up to the Big Guy," Rob replies, "although in this crowd, it's generally easier not to make battle plans, since they have trouble surviving to make contact with the enemy." With that, he curls up and goes to sleep, setting a mental alarm clock for four hours. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On Sat, 27 Mar 2004 18:45:56 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00011871 >On Sat, 27 Mar 2004 10:08:12 -0500 >Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011865 > >The Good Doctor turns his internal cameras on, activating the >internal PA system. "Actually, I plan on cutting the flight time to >half that. Once we are airborne, the jets will kick in and rocket us >to our destination. Once we reach the border between the Nile Empire >and Core Earth, however, I will have to cut the engines and run on >propeller power. In fact, at this point I don't know if we are going >to make a sea landing or ground deployment. But I do know that we can >get there in 5 hours or less, depending on the winds." /"You should probably contact Doctor Destroyer before entering the war zone airspace,"/ Defender mentions. /"He's coordinating the military resistance there, and unless warned in advance, might assume that an ultra-tech zeppelin is a Mobian weapon."/ (OOC reminder per Morgan: /this/ notation is for lens-link telepathy.) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On Sat, 27 Mar 2004 18:56:09 -0800 Eric Said As CAoL Message # 00011875 >On Sat, 27 Mar 2004 11:42:18 -0800 >Patrick O'Shea Said As CAoL Message # 00011866 > >Patrick glances out the window, then asks: "Forgive me if this has >already been covered, but once we're in the Nile Empire area, where >should we go from there? Straight to this Dr. Mobius' place, or some >place for us to regroup?" "The boy scout handed me this," Eric says, showing Nemo's note to the Nile team. "My guess, given Nemo's reputation, is that this will get us started." He hands it to Dhyrclhanc (who will be 'leading' the team by default, unless other arrangements are made). Then he looks back and forth between Doc Energy and Ultraviolet. "That address mean anything to either of you?" =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9n: The Journey to the Nile On Sat, 27 Mar 2004 19:25:23 -0800 Eric Said As CAoL Message # 00011876 >On Thu, 25 Mar 2004 18:13:37 -0800 (PST) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00011861 > >"Actually, I rather like Gaia." Violet replies to Eric's comments >about his particular ficton's planetary-diety. Eric smiles fondly (regarding both ladies 8^). "She gets a lot of that." >"It is strange. Usually I go out of my way to avoid prolonged >involvement wiht any entity more powerful, say, than a dragon." The Hunter nods in agreement. It's not his cuppa either; while his training as an Exalt comes from skill and dedication, a portion of his power comes from a primal deity, something he's clearly not comfortable with. >"Here, however, I've already fought several gods, channeled another, >helped dismantle some other entity even more powerful, then I've got >another Dreamself who is, well, not throwing, but certainly lobbing >herself gently at one of the gods the curtain rose to me fighting. >Top it all off, I _offered_ to avatar myself, if it is necessary. I >wonder what it is about this world?" "Something in the water," he comments dryly. "Seriously, our world is a cosmic nexus for this universe. Primal principles, major deific forces, cosmic powers of good and evil..." he shrugs. "This Torg thing is new, though." >"Eric - do we have to use the Aurora Express? I'd really rather >Trump, if we can. I hate being moved about at someone else's whim." >Violet pauses. OOC: IIRC, this was retconned, given that Doc Energy is providing more "normal" transport (not that I'm calling B.O.R.I.S. _normal,_ mind you ;^). If not, I'll get to it. >"Gad. I do sound like you - but wordier." She tries to sound >flabbergasted, but it comes out in his own drily wry tone, instead. "It's going around," Eric notes, not exactly put out by the idea. "I never thought I'd impersonate Yosemite Sam. Let alone _enjoy_ it." He grins. It's still got the deadly edge to it, but there's more warmth and humor in his expressions now. "Maybe after all this is over, we could go on tour -- the actress and the hunter, two shows and a slaying each night. Three shows on Saturdays. Two-for-Tuesday monster hunting -- two beasties for the price of one. No cowardly talking dogs, though, and I swear I will _personally_ throttle any sidekicks who sound like Casey Kasem." "If they're wearing white bird-themed costumes, you won't," Roland quips from the Middle-Earth LZ. "But he's not a sidekick, is he?" Morgan asks. "Not unless you're asking Jason," Roland replies with a wink. "But which G-Forcer does _he_ remind you of most?" That with a thumb toward Eric and a grin for his beloved. Morgan chuckles. "Do you mind? I'm trying to be suave here." Roland's eyes widen slightly at the bloodless, friendly comeback. Both men smile. Then Eric puts on a low, wide-brimmed black fedora. The Hunter stops and glances up, nonplused. "Where the devil did _that_ come from?" he asks. "Hats are important," Morgan quips. "Where you're going, men _have_ to wear hats, and they _never_ lose them. Maybe temporarily, but they come back." She smiles. "Sort of like that one just showed up," she adds. Eric takes off the hat, then looks at Zia and grins. "You know, I've never seen you less than impeccably dressed. Maybe that's just another trick that's rubbing off on me." He slides his black coat off the table and slides it on. He hasn't noticed this bit yet, but it now looks like a period topcoat. The only incongruous element of his gear now (weapons and clothing alike) are his shades, which still work -- giving him the "who the hell is _he?_" element necessary for a Pulp Avenger. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On Sun, 28 Mar 2004 11:45:48 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00011878 >Eric Said As CAoL Message # 00011875 >>Patrick O'Shea Said As CAoL Message # 00011866 >> >>Patrick glances out the window, then asks: "Forgive me if this has >>already been covered, but once we're in the Nile Empire area, where >>should we go from there? Straight to this Dr. Mobius' place, or some >>place for us to regroup?" > > "The boy scout handed me this," Eric says, showing Nemo's note to >the Nile team. "My guess, given Nemo's reputation, is that this will >get us started." He hands it to Dhyrclhanc (who will be 'leading' the >team by default, unless other arrangements are made). Then he looks >back and forth between Doc Energy and Ultraviolet. "That address mean >anything to either of you?" "Not that I can think of." Violet confesses. "Though my former stomping grounds were almost soley the West Coast of the Americas and in the - are they called the Soviet Republics, still, or is are all of them now just called Russia? I've heard it both ways thus far - and I haven't been here again long enough to have picked up on all the changes since last time." =========================== Subject: AAE 9n: A Hero at Hazard On Sun, 28 Mar 2004 22:56:45 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00011882 Prologue. Doctor Destroyer smiles grimly at the holo-screen in front of him. "Ah, Dhyrclhanc. It _has_ been a while." OOC: Hope you don't mind me taking a minor liberty with the Big Guy, sib. Insert banter here ;^) After 'pleasantries' are exchanged and strategies are coordinated, Destroyer raises his hand to end the communication. Scorpia, who has worked her way to his side by this point, taps him on the arm and gestures at Eric. Destroyer gives the monster-slayer a sly grin. "And Hunter..." he adds, his tone faintly ominous, "it is good to see that you are well." With a menacing chuckle, he cuts the communication just before a throwing star goes through the screen on the B.O.R.I.S. (If the screen on the BORIS is physical, Eric apologizes immediately.) "He...helped me once," Eric admits grudgingly. "He never calls in the damn debt, but never misses an opportunity to remind me of it either. Son of a..." Cairo. Thud. Thud. Thud. The ominous strike of hammer on nail echoed across the hastily prepared plaza, as the Pharaoh's men worked diligently to build a gallows. While Mobius isn't entirely popular among the locals, he has created a national fervor, promising to 'restore Egypt to its rightful glory.' And, sadly, a good hanging has always been a popular spectator event. So putting on a good show is important. For the Silver Scarab, at least the one about to be hanged, the best 'show' he could imagine would be a hairsbreadth escape from the noose at the last second. Unfortunately, that seemed unlikely -- as did any other escape, for that matter. The thought that his hero, the 'true' Silver Scarab from Mobius' world, would no doubt attempt a rescue did not comfort him in the least. He struggled with his bonds for a moment, then sighed and sat down on his cot. "Enjoying the view?" A silky oriental voice echoed through the prison room. The Scarab stood to face Wu Ming, Mobius' Overgovernor for the area. He could never quite grasp why the Pharaoh would put a Yellow Peril villain in charge of his Egyptian power base, but Dr. Mobius was, by all appearances, insane. "I have to admit, Wu Ming, you sure know how to twist the knife like nobody's business." The mastermind chuckled in a mock-humble manner. "We do try." He brought his hands in front of him, folding them contemplatively at his chest. "Since your mental faculties are no doubt very focused at the moment, as one of your Western bon mots puts it, perhaps you are now willing to listen." The Scarab was suddenly very attentive. "Listen to what?" "You have no doubt discovered that your bonds are quite inescapable. The human body -- the _normal_ human body, at any rate -- can only bend in certain ways. The proper application of kinesthetics makes your position quite untenable." Wu Ming leaned forward ever so slightly. "Those bonds, too, are no mere twine. As your attempts to cut yourself free have no doubt revealed, they will not yield to your efforts. However, certain...chemicals..." Wu Ming's hand flickered into his voluminous sleeve, coming out with a minuscule vial. "will dissolve them." The Scarab was ashamed to find himself sweating. His mouth was dry. "What do you want?" "It serves me nothing for you and your mentor to fall so easily to Mobius' machinations," the Overgovernor explained placidly. "On the other hand, I cannot have you disrupting my province. Find him, and remove yourselves from my province without delay. You will give me your word, as a 'hero,'" Wu Ming said the last word with contempt, "to do so." The Scarab considered this for a longer moment than he would have liked. "What about Hippolyta?" "What about her?" Wu Ming replied dismissively. "You cannot help her now. The amazon will provide a useful...distraction. The Pharaoh seems quite fascinated by her." "Nuts," the hero shot back. Wu Ming sighed. "Such bravado." The vial vanished back into the folds of the mastermind's robe. "Consider your position carefully." He gestured out the window, where the Silver Scarab could see the scaffolding being built. "When the sun reaches its zenith tomorrow, you will be in no position to help anyone." "You know where you can stick that vial, Wu Ming?" the Scarab snarled, straining at his bonds. "A pity. Ah well. At least the Pharaoh will be entertained. And Natatiri...she does enjoy seeing you muscle-bound avengers reach the end of your rope. Perhaps you will provide a useful distraction after all! HA-hahahahaha..." Wu Ming laughed diabolically as he strode down the hall. The Scarab glared after him, but his mind raced. [Well, Jack, you've really gotten yourself into a fix _this_ time,] he thought darkly. [Now what?] OOC: That's your cue, heroes. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: A Hero at Hazard On Mon, 29 Mar 2004 03:59:12 -0500 Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011886 >On Sun, 28 Mar 2004 22:56:45 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00011882 > > Prologue. > Doctor Destroyer smiles grimly at the holo-screen in front of him. >"Ah, Dhyrclhanc. It _has_ been a while." > OOC: Hope you don't mind me taking a minor liberty with the Big >Guy, sib. Insert banter here ;^) > After 'pleasantries' are exchanged and strategies are coordinated, >Destroyer raises his hand to end the communication. Scorpia, who has >worked her way to his side by this point, taps him on the arm and >gestures at Eric. Destroyer gives the monster-slayer a sly grin. "And >Hunter..." he adds, his tone faintly ominous, "it is good to see that >you are well." With a menacing chuckle, he cuts the communication >just before a throwing star goes through the screen on the B.O.R.I.S. >(If the screen on the BORIS is physical, Eric apologizes >immediately.) Doc Energy monitors the communication from the cockpit. [Doctor. This 'Destroyer' fellow is a villian of the worst sort. I remember the uproar he and his compatriots caused, and it was enough to send most of my fellow scientists into hiding lest they be swept up in his search for Science to be used against The Champions.] sneered Doc Energy internally. [When this is over, I hope to stop at Ms. Quantums' coffeeshop and see if they do keep chai in stock. It has been quite sometime since I have had good chai.] He watches as the throwing star sails through the holographic display and goes CLANK against the bulkhead wall. With a electronic CHUNK, he turns the internal comm system on. {A very good shot, Hunter. But I think I may have found something that would fit the place you are going to. In the compartment above you is a twin shoulder holster rig. In it, you will find twin .45s, with the same modifications I noted on the Tommy Gun. To reload, just say the ammo type and "Reload" and the gun will reload it for you. You will find that Gun Fu is more appropriate for pistols than Tommy Guns. If I may make a suggestion, use the 45s. They are more fitting for the realm. Also in the compartment above you, I have a black leather fedora, with a slight difference. This one is my personal favorite. I call it the "Oddjob Boomerang Special" It and the pair of leather gloves that go with it work together. Throw the hat, and use the glove to guide the arc of the hat. The retractable diamond edge on the brim will "cut" to the chase, so to speak. The radius is 100 feet around you, and the hat will always return to your head when it returns.} > "He...helped me once," Eric admits grudgingly. "He never calls in >the damn debt, but never misses an opportunity to remind me of it >either. Son of a..." {Then it is well for him that he chooses not to cash in on it, since I think the price would be higher than he is willing to pay. We have to make a slight detour to Casablanca, and then we will get underway} Casablanca. The warm Moroccan night was sweltering like the dampness of a jungle gone nuts. Buck was starting to get irritated at the lateness of Romanov. He knew the Russian was willing to pay top dollar for the artifact, but waiting was never one of his strong suits. As for Indy, he was a little nervous meeting the esteemed Dr. Emil Romanov for the first time. He had met many gifted men and women in his time, but none had as much mystery surrounding him as Dr. Romanov did. >From the front of the cafe where the two men were sitting, they observed a tall gentleman enter the smoky cafe. The smell of kif, tobacco and strong coffee lingered like the smell of a woman's perfume. The gentleman was dressed for the weather, in a light cream colored suit, pants and a wide brimmed Panama hat with a blue brim. The fellow glanced over at the table where Buck and Indy were seated and casually moved over there and sat down at the 3rd chair available. "Gentlemen," said the man, "My name is Dixon Hill. I have been contacted by a mutual collegue, one Dr. Romanov. He gave me a list of instructions to give to you both. First, I must verify the two artifacts that you have aquired." "Hold on there, city boy," drawled Buck, "before we show anything, let's see some cash. We've gone through a lot to get these items and aren't going to show our hand without some stake money." Indy looked the man over. He had the look that said "private detective" all over him. From his well worn shoes, to the obvious bulge in his coat that indicated a gun or weapon of some sort, to even the way Mr. Hill observed every patron in the cafe as if they were a potential threat...it was clear that this man was who he said he was. "What my hayseed friend here means," said Indy, "is that before we risk exposing ourselves to prying eyes, we need assurances that not only will we be compensated, but also that this piece will not end up in the hands of some Mad Scientist." Dix smiled his "trust-me" smile. "I told Dr. Romanov that you two would probably want something up front for the trouble, Buck most of all because of his expenses." Keeping one hand on the table, he reached into the inner pocket of his suit and pulled out a fat envelope. "That's half of what you requested, sirs. The other half will be paid upon completion of a second assignment." He reached into the front pocket of the suit and a folded piece of paper. Dix unfolded the paper and read it aloud. Dear Mssrs Buck and Jones: I regret that I will not be able to arrive at Casablanca at the time given, but recent events have forstalled my meeting you here. This is why I have sent my associate Mr. Hill to represent me in this manner. The artifacts that you have described are in fact a primative type of "replicator" apparatus used by myself and other in futures yet to be. My research has come up with what I believe to be the 'instruction manual' for use of this device. Simply put, place the stone in the receptacle shown here. Once that is done, read the following passage aloud. "By the Eye of Ra and the Hands of Ptah, let that which I wish come forth." Only the speaker can operate the device and that falls to you, Indy. Dr. Marcus is very interested to have this device once it is used. As for what I need, on the reverse side of this note is a costume design that I wish you to make. Go to Cairo, make 50 of these costumes and enough cash to offer to locals to wear it. Buck, you go to the nearest tavern and get drunk. There, tell everyone within earshot that you don't think the Silver Scarab that's being hung is the real one. When anyone asks how you know, tell them that you saw the 'real' Silver Scarab in a flat up the street. Indy, you want criminals of low order or degenerates to wear these costumes, as I do not wish to inflict any harm on the locals with this deception. The most important part is that you have all 50 costumes made and worn by their respective owners by or before the Public Execution. Once that is done, you will not only get compensated, but you, Buck, will receive the best machine shop that money can buy, and you, Indy, will be the benefactor of a large donation by myself to the University. Good luck gentlemen. Sincerely, Dr. Emil Romanov Dix hands the note to Indy. "And just to be on the safe side Buck, make sure that you say what you are supposed to say within earshot of one of the Pharoah's guards. He is sure to go running to Wu Ming once the word gets out. If you see Wu Ming anywhere in the city, shadow him as best you can." And with that he stands up from the table, drinks the rest of his coffee and casually strolls out of the cafe and into the inky black night. Buck looks at the design on the back of the letter. "What the heck is this, some kind of funny book? There ain't no way we are going to get some drunk to dress up in a getup like this." Indy looks at the design as well, and shakes his head grimly. "You are right, so let's make sure we make enough gold to remove any objections. Any cutpurse or minor thug would bend over backwards to get this, even if it means dressing up like a costumed hero. Come on, Buck, we got work to do." > The Scarab glared after him, but his mind raced. [Well, Jack, >you've really gotten yourself into a fix _this_ time,] he thought >darkly. [Now what?] > OOC: That's your cue, heroes. The B.O.R.I.S flew over the ocean north of the Reality border. The reality storm appeared menacing in the distance, rolling like a batch of bad beets. #Uncle, I have detected massive possiblity energy fluctuations in the storm clouds ahead. I do not think the ship can handle a storm like that.# The Good Doctor nods grimly, #You are right, my dear. I think it's time we go for a walk in the ocean. Activate mecha mode. Adapt to water pressure and activate sound dampening system.# Up in the air, a lone fishing boat caught sight of a giant brass blimp moving quickly overhead. The captain walked out onto the deck and used his spyglass to get a better look. He looked up and squinted into the glare the polished brass gave off. When his eyes adjusted, he saw instead a large metallic man flying off into the distance, then suddenly the man did a perfect swan dive into the ocean, making very little splash, though it was enough to scare most of the school of fish he had been trawling for. He cursed under his breath, something about.. "Damn Mad Scientists. Can't leave well enough alone..." Doc Energy activated the comm. {Attention passengers. AEtherian Flight 9 arriving on the shore between Libya and Egypt in one hour. You have this time to make preparations to depart. Please observe all no-smoking signs and use the holomonitors to catch a lovely view of the Mediterranian (sp) Sea from the bottom up. That is all.} =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On Mon, 29 Mar 2004 07:52:27 -0500 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00011891 >Patrick O'Shea wrote on 3/27/2004, 2:52 PM: > >Patrick glances out the window, then asks: "Forgive me if this has >already been covered, but once we're in the Nile Empire area, where >should we go from there? Straight to this Dr. Mobius' place, or some >place for us to regroup?" "And if I may impose upon the good Doctor's generosity," Grephnix adds, "could Captain Sparrow and myself get a lift to Casablanca? It's on the way. I can arrange my own transport to the subcontinent from there." He smiles a bit lopsidedly. "And the Negotiator has his own means to get to Japan." Roger Smith merely smiles and adjusts his watch. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On Mon, 29 Mar 2004 12:57:31 -0500 Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011892 >On Mon, 29 Mar 2004 07:52:27 -0500 >"David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00011891 > > "And if I may impose upon the good Doctor's generosity," Grephnix >adds, "could Captain Sparrow and myself get a lift to Casablanca? >It's on the way. I can arrange my own transport to the subcontinent >from there." He smiles a bit lopsidedly. "And the Negotiator has his >own means to get to Japan." > Roger Smith merely smiles and adjusts his watch. Doc Energy grins, and activates the lens-link, tight beaming it to Capt. Sparrow and the Jedi Master. /Certainly. I am planning on making a brief stop at Casablanca anyway. Would you be kind to deliver a package to one Dixon Hill. I have been in contact with a couple of Nile Empire adventurers who have found an extraordinary device that can be used to 'distract' Mobius. A while back I saw a wonderfully funny movie, "The Three Amigos" and it inspired me. Inform Mr. Hill that the contents of this package are to be delivered to Tennessee Buck and Dr. Henry "Indiana" Jones Jr. at the address included. You will find the package in the compartment above your seat, Master Jedi./ =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: A Hero at Hazard On Mon, 29 Mar 2004 19:04:34 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00011894 >On Mon, 29 Mar 2004 03:59:12 -0500 >Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011886 >>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00011882 >> >> "He...helped me once," Eric admits grudgingly. "He never calls in >>the damn debt, but never misses an opportunity to remind me of it >>either. Son of a..." > >{Then it is well for him that he chooses not to cash in on it, since >I think the price would be higher than he is willing to pay. We have >to make a slight detour to Casablanca, and then we will get underway} Violet, meanwhile, had wandered off to another part of the ship, muttering something about keeping a low profile and having no need to see if Ddr. Destroyer had ever been a pulp fan. Finding a quiet room, she sits seiza, and begins, with utmost caution, to delicately probe for events and thoughts in Egypt. Not in any mind of power, nor on any influential person, but in the minds of the bakers, the petty thieves, the skulking cockroaches of humanity that prey on the crumbs dropped by mightier villians. Slowly, the situation begins to take shape in her mind. Although Violet does not quite equal her Zia-Realself for sheer mathematical ability, she makes up for this deficient with the dogged determination and meticulous obsession with every detail gained from Eric as augmented by Gaia's own power. Her own power burns stronger and hotter than ever, though no one has asked yet how she can manifest ultraviolet radiation at will. Eric likely had no need to ask, as there was one logical deity here to be giving such abilities. >> Cairo. >> Thud. Thud. Thud. The ominous strike of hammer on nail echoed >>across the hastily prepared plaza, as the Pharaoh's men worked >>diligently to build a gallows. While Mobius isn't entirely popular >>among the locals, he has created a national fervor, promising to >>'restore Egypt to its rightful glory.' 'Perhaps a bit of a smear campaign would be useful, if there is time.' Violet muses. 'Note to self: ask omniscient Pain-in-Butt-inski if he knows any thing about this Dr. Mobius that is true and would very much not endear him to Egyptians. Always has more bite if it's true. Plus, ' the Lavender Lady smiles ruefully, 'my rep for being just has become just as much a part of this role as the gaudy costume. The inertia of this strange, Consensual Reality obviously can strongly influence even me. Well. This _part_ of me, at least. I'll have to watch out for that.' The Just Violet removes her hat and then the headscarf under it - revealing hair so dark purple it is almost black - but glows with reflected color like a raven's wing. She returns to her delicate spying by Lens. "Silver Scarab? Not one I know. I'll have to ask Eric - or get a Roger to 'path me what he knows. The timing is odd. A setup? How would he know we're arriving?" >Doc Energy activated the comm. {Attention passengers. Aetherian >Flight 9 arriving on the shore between Libya and Egypt in one hour. >You have this time to make preparations to depart. Please observe all >no-smoking signs and use the holomonitors to catch a lovely view of >the Mediterranian (sp) Sea from the bottom up. That is all.} Violet shakes her head at this levity, donning her scarf, hat... then she stares in bemusement at the smoked quartz sunglasses that have appeared. She puts them on - they fit exactly, not quite opaque but turning the world quite... violet. She removes them, then she shrugs. "Oracle, Aurora? Since you're so eager to give me advice, mind telling me if these are a product of my Dream-shadowshifting, something from an ally presumably to help, or a trick tossed in by our good ol' buddy Omen?" @^Eric, Roger - do either of you know anything about a Silver Scarab hero? They're planning to have him hanged tomorrow.^@ =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: A Hero at Hazard On Fri, 2 Apr 2004 20:47:27 -0500 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00011906 >Roland X wrote on 3/29/2004, 2:05 AM: > > After 'pleasantries' are exchanged and strategies are coordinated, >Destroyer raises his hand to end the communication. Scorpia, who has >worked her way to his side by this point, taps him on the arm and >gestures at Eric. Destroyer gives the monster-slayer a sly grin. "And >Hunter..." he adds, his tone faintly ominous, "it is good to see that >you are well." With a menacing chuckle, he cuts the communication >just before a throwing star goes through the screen on the B.O.R.I.S. >(If the screen on the BORIS is physical, Eric apologizes >immediately.) > "He...helped me once," Eric admits grudgingly. "He never calls in >the damn debt, but never misses an opportunity to remind me of it >either. Son of a..." Grephnix makes a placid gesture. "The Jedi would say that allowing yourself to become agitated over his 'teasing' is granting him a victory, not to mention a handle on yourself, and that you should cultivate serenity." He smiles, very dryly. "For myself, I would remember that said serenity can sometimes be best cultivated by kicking the teaser's ass." His expression turns serious. "But, setting all humor aside, I would ask you to remember that redeeming that debt is *your* choice -- he acted of his own free will to assist you, and you are equally free to exercise your own when he attempts to manipulate you through your sense of honor. In brief: he has no more hold over you than you *give* him." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On Fri, 2 Apr 2004 20:47:41 -0500 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00011907 >George wrote on 3/29/2004, 1:02 PM: > >> "And if I may impose upon the good Doctor's generosity," Grephnix >>adds, "could Captain Sparrow and myself get a lift to Casablanca? >>It's on the way. I can arrange my own transport to the subcontinent >>from there." He smiles a bit lopsidedly. "And the Negotiator has his >>own means to get to Japan." > >Doc Energy grins, and activates the lens-link, tight beaming it to >Capt. Sparrow and the Jedi Master. /Certainly. I am planning on >making a brief stop at Casablanca anyway. Would you be kind to >deliver a package to one Dixon Hill. I have been in contact with a >couple of Nile Empire adventurers who have found an extraordinary >device that can be used to 'distract' Mobius. A while back I saw a >wonderfully funny movie, "The Three Amigos" and it inspired me. >Inform Mr. Hill that the contents of this package are to be delivered >to Tennessee Buck and Dr. Henry "Indiana" Jones Jr. at the address >included. You will find the package in the compartment above your >seat, Master Jedi./ "It appears," Grephnix remarks with mild irony, "to be my day to smuggle packages. Ah, well, Jedi or no, I do have an obligation to uphold the grand Corellian tradition..." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Indiana Jones and the Forge of Ptah On Fri, 2 Apr 2004 20:46:48 -0500 "David McMillan" Said As GR.CAoL Message # 00010538 >George wrote on 3/28/2004, 9:02 AM: > >"AEtherian Flight 9 now boarding at Gate 23 for Cairo, Memphis, >Casablanca, Tripoli and Cu (pause) camonga." Thunder, accompanying Grephnix and Sparrow, pauses at this announcement. "Cairo and Memphis? Why we goin' there? And wouldn't Nashville be more central-like?" he asks in a rather region-generic Southern drawl. "In fact, the good Doctor is referring to the cities in *Egypt,* not their namesakes in the American South," Grephnix corrects the younger Roger gently, before adding "my young hayseed," in a gently teasing tone. Thunder (who looks, for good reasons, much like a 1920s version of Sam "Cannonball" Guthrie passed through an Indiana Jones filter) blushes fit to compete with Roland's best and mumbles something under his breath about "furrin geo-graffy." Sparrow, for his part, is still looking for an opportunity to talk up something pretty and female. Unless it involves seaports or shipping lanes, geography interests him rather less than settling down in the suburbs. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9: Crossroads On Sat, 3 Apr 2004 12:08:10 -0500 Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011908 > On Fri, 2 Apr 2004 20:47:41 -0500 > "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00011907 > > "It appears," Grephnix remarks with mild irony, "to be my day to >smuggle packages. Ah, well, Jedi or no, I do have an obligation to >uphold the grand Corellian tradition..." OOC: Is that a Corellian corvette in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me? :-D /*chuckle/,says The Good Doctor /And you come from a great line of smuggleers, I am sure. Do be careful, I am sure the Vodacce Prince has his spies everywhere, and wouldn't hesitate to report to Mobius what he learned./ =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: A Hero at Hazard On Sun, 4 Apr 2004 18:16:19 -0700 (PDT) Rob N Said As CAoL Message # 00011909 >Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011886 > >Doc Energy activated the comm. {Attention passengers. Aetherian >Flight 9 arriving on the shore between Libya and Egypt in one hour. >You have this time to make preparations to depart. Please observe all >no-smoking signs and use the holomonitors to catch a lovely view of >the Mediterranian (sp) Sea from the bottom up. That is all.} Rob wakes up, stretches, and puts his vest back on. [I needed that. But now, I need all my senses back.] It takes the better part of an hour to adjust his space-time awareness to a place where the dimensional breaches don't "blind" his sense of the world. But when he finishes, he can sense the border. [Just in time.] =========================== Subject: AAE 9n: Gun Fu On Sun, 04 Apr 2004 20:14:26 -0700 Eric Said As CAoL Message # 00011910 >On Mon, 29 Mar 2004 03:59:12 -0500 >Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011886 > >He watches as the throwing star sails through the holographic display >and goes CLANK against the bulkhead wall. With a electronic CHUNK, he >turns the internal comm system on. {A very good shot, Hunter. But I >think I may have found something that would fit the place you are >going to. In the compartment above you is a twin shoulder holster >rig. In it, you will find twin .45s, with the same modifications I >noted on the Tommy Gun. To reload, just say the ammo type and >"Reload" and the gun will reload it for you. Eric examines the .45s with his expert eye, checking the loaded ammo, then restoring it into place with a distinctive *clack*. (OOC: Revolvers or clip-fed? Eric may be a Gun God, but that's about as specific as I'm going to get after my "no safeties on Glocks" thing with Roger 8^). "Nice. Thanks." Then he spins both guns dramatically, stylishly, and expertly, holstering them with practiced ease. At which point his jaw drops. "What did I just do?" he asks quietly. "No, wait, let me guess. Different reality. Different rules. That isn't insanely stupid in this Mobius character's reality, is it?" (OOC: Yep. 8^) >Also in the compartment above you, I have a black leather fedora, >with a slight difference. This one is my personal favorite. I call it >the "Oddjob Boomerang Special" It and the pair of leather gloves that >go with it work together. Throw the hat, and use the glove to guide >the arc of the hat. The retractable diamond edge on the brim will >"cut" to the chase, so to speak. The radius is 100 feet around you, >and the hat will always return to your head when it returns.} OOC: As long as it's _black_ leather... ;^) The gloves match, right? "Hrm." He turns the hat over in his hands briefly. "It certainly has the element of surprise." He dons the hat. "Odd. It feels...natural." >Dix hands the note to Indy. "And just to be on the safe side Buck, >make sure that you say what you are supposed to say within earshot of >one of the Pharoah's guards. He is sure to go running to Wu Ming once >the word gets out. If you see Wu Ming anywhere in the city, shadow >him as best you can." And with that he stands up from the table, >drinks the rest of his coffee and casually strolls out of the caf‚ >and into the inky black night. > >Buck looks at the design on the back of the letter. "What the heck is >this, some kind of funny book? There ain't no way we are going to get >some drunk to dress up in a getup like this." Indy looks at the >design as well, and shakes his head grimly. "You are right, so let's >make sure we make enough gold to remove any objections. Any cutpurse >or minor thug would bend over backwards to get this, even if it means >dressing up like a costumed hero. Come on, Buck, we got work to do." Thebes. Rick O'Connell dodged fire from Mobius' shocktroopers, returning the favor with his shotgun. While he was escaping the firefight unscathed, the shocktroopers were not proving so fortunate. The problem was, there was only one of him and an awful lot of them. "Ar-_deth!_ Any TIME!" he shouted, though there didn't appear to be anyone around to respond. The shocktroopers soon learned that appearances can be deceiving, as a Tommy gun roared to life behind them. Curiously, a handgun joined it. Rick dove behind an obelisk long enough for the gunfire to stop, then peaked cautiously around to see what happened. Ardeth Bey, leader of the Medjai, stood proudly on a small dune, looking down at the fallen shocktroopers, his Thompson on one shoulder. Rick didn't see anything odd about that. What _was_ odd was the pretty woman next to him. Dressed in a combination of Medjai black and American casual, she was clearly the owner of the handgun he'd heard. "Thank you," Ardeth said to her in his typically formal tone. "No sweat," she replied casually. "You aren't related to my wife, are you?" Rick asked her as he stood. She laughed. "Don't think so. Name's Marion Jones. You're O'Connell, right?" At Rick's nod, she grinned ferociously and continued. "Indy knows her, though. He's not crazy about _your_ idea of archaeology, but anyone who takes on Mobius is okay with me." "Yeah, well, I'm just the hired help," Rick replied as evenly as he could manage. "And if that's the 'Indy' I think it is, he ought to know better when the damn bodies start trying to kill you." Marion laughed. "I could tell you stories." "This should wait," Ardeth cut in. "This 'Mobius' seems even more dangerous than The Creature, may Anubis gnaw his bones forever. His interest in our sacred sites," he gestured at the ruins around them, "is as insidious as it is well-informed. I suspect there is more to him than meets the eye." "You mean _besides_ the army, the weird ray-guns, giant tin soldiers, bird-planes, robot sphinx, and Egyptian hocus-pocus?" Rick shot back caustically. "Yes," Ardeth replied, still perfectly serious. Rick rolled his eyes. "Great. Let's just hope that _your_ husband," he continued, gesturing to Marion, "doesn't meet up with _my_ wife. Let alone my son." "Why?" Marion asked slowly, eyebrow raised. "Because Evie's in Casablanca too," Rick replied dryly enough to suck the moisture out of the desert air. "Indiana Jones and Evelyn O'Connell working together? Mobius'd be the least of our problems. And God, if Alex is with them..." =========================== Subject: AAE 9n: Hang Time On Tue, 06 Apr 2004 00:57:54 -0700 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00011916 >On Mon, 29 Mar 2004 19:04:34 -0800 (PST) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00011894 > >>On Mon, 29 Mar 2004 03:59:12 -0500 >>Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011886 >>>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00011882 >>> >>> "He...helped me once," Eric admits grudgingly. "He never calls >>>in the damn debt, but never misses an opportunity to remind me of >>>it either. Son of a..." >> >>{Then it is well for him that he chooses not to cash in on it, since >>I think the price would be higher than he is willing to pay. We have >>to make a slight detour to Casablanca, and then we will get >>underway} [Casablanca? Are we visiting Rick's Cafe Americain?] Eric thinks dryly (yes, even to himself 8^). "I didn't ask for his help, so technically I owe him nothing. Honor is another matter." > Violet shakes her head at this levity, donning her scarf, hat... >then she stares in bemusement at the smoked quartz sunglasses that >have appeared. She puts them on - they fit exactly, not quite opaque >but turning the world quite... violet. She removes them, then she >shrugs. > > "Oracle, Aurora? Since you're so eager to give me advice, mind >telling me if these are a product of my Dream-shadowshifting, >something from an ally presumably to help, or a trick tossed in by >our good ol' buddy Omen?" @"I think there's a 'clothing effect' in play. Or something like that."@ Dry as ever, Eric compares the hat that appeared for him to the one provided by the Romanov Etherite. The similarity is uncanny... > @^Eric, Roger - do either of you know anything about a Silver >Scarab hero? They're planning to have him hanged tomorrow.^@ @Sorry, love. I'm afraid I've never heard of him.@ A thought suddenly occurs to the Hunter. @Maybe the boy scout's old gang would know -- the lady knight, the cyberpunkette, the Lunar, that bunch. Could be a native.@ (OOC: Attempting to move things along here...) That night. The Living Truth Agency is home to the best private eye in Cairo. Rex McMasters, Prop., is known for his keen skill as an investigator. And his mean right cross. That his lovely assistant and secretary, Sadi Bel-Adda, is rumored to possess mysterious abilities of her own, only helps the agency's stature. McMasters, while reliable and courageous, has 'earned' a reputation for working both sides of the street, so to speak, though he won't rough up the innocent. That Rex McMasters is, in fact, the original Silver Scarab, is far less common knowledge. While the detective scrupulously keeps knowledge from one paying gig from influencing others, the Silver Scarab is much more...flexible...with this information. "You must know that it is a trap, Rex," Sadi said quietly. Rex nodded, opening the secret panel in his closet that revealed his silver and red costume as well as the Scarab's Sting. "Wu Ming will be expecting you. Most likely even the Pharaoh himself." Her expression never changed, her voice never wavered. "I'd be disappointed if he missed it," Rex quipped, but even to his own ears, his tone fell flat. Sadi watched placidly as the private eye prepared to give way to the masked avenger. "Jack is a good man. I know that. This choice, however, was his own. He would not want you to throw your life away for him." Rex stopped, the Silver Scarab from the waist down, a private eye from there up. He turned. A single tear glistened in Sadi's eye. "You're worried." "There is a hope, true...I sense a faint chance that others will aid you at your greatest need." Sadi looked him straight in the eye. "If they do not, however...there is little hope. Even for the true Silver Scarab." Rex's gaze hardened. "Jack Murphy is as good a Silver Scarab as I ever was," he said firmly. "He's just green, that's all. Read too many pulps as a kid, maybe," he muttered, glancing away. "And I encouraged him. Ran into this guy, using my outfit thinking I was just a story, and played the wise mentor. Hmph. Wise_cracking,_ maybe." He looked back at Sadi. "I am responsible for him, Sadi. At least in part." He shrugged off the trenchcoat, pulled on the top of the costume, holstered his Sting blaster. "Take me with you," Sadi said. Her voice was as even as ever, her gaze as unwavering. The Silver Scarab trembled, for the first time that he could remember. "Sadi...no. Please. I..." Sadi smiled, It was a sad smile, but genuine all the same. "You care." "Of _course_ I do! It's just..." Rex ran his hand through his hair distractedly. "This is crazy. I know you can take care of yourself in a pinch, but this isn't the same thing, not by a long shot..." Rex trailed off as the mystic walked up to him, taking one of his hands in hers. "This once, I do not know what tomorrow brings, Rex McMasters. I do know this, however: whatever comes, I would that we face it together." The Silver Scarab paused for a moment. Then he kissed her. The placid, unflappable Sadi Bel-Adda melted in his arms. "Together," he agreed, pulling on his mask. (OOC note: this http://www.keithpaquette.com/infinitygauntlet/figures/silverscarab.jpg is a custom figure for the DC hero Silver Scarab, but take the shoulder pads down a notch and make the blue parts red, and it's a passable pulp outfit. 8^) The next day. A martial drum beat rattles out an ominous beat. The sense of finality is palpable. Jack Murphy, once known as the Silver Scarab, walks slowly but defiantly toward his doom, even his executioner awed as he needs no prodding. For a moment, however, he stops and looks up at the magnificent dais, adorned in the grandest style the Lower Kingdom had to offer, that has been prepared for the event. In the center of the dais sits Pharaoh Mobius himself, face hidden in his trademark hood. He stops chatting with the exquisite, sinister woman to his left to gaze back at the hero. After a moment, he salutes Jack with verve. "Bravo, sir!" Wu Ming, the Overgovernor for Cairo, sits to the Pharaoh's right. "Is it wise," he whispers discreetly, "to encourage this troublemaker, even on his last march?" The woman to the left scoffs with a laugh. "You are worse than Wu Han," she says in a cultured accent that might seem Arabic to those not native to ancient Egypt. "Let them enjoy this moment. It may not be the Pharaoh's last," she adds, looking the bare-to-the-waist avenger over appraisingly, "but it's certainly his. Pity, that." "Honestly, Natatiri," the Pharaoh replies airily, "if you _want_ a pet hero, I certainly have no objections." He pats Hippolyta, who is chained firmly at his feet, on the head. She snarls at him. "Alas, it is too late for the Silver Scarab." "I'll take that hangman's noose, thank you," Jack says suddenly. The crowd roars with laughter (with no love lost between the two Overgovernors, they can do so safely). Natatiri turns white with fury. "Proceed," Mobius sighs. Though all that can be seen under the hood are white eyeslits, the rolling eye look is obvious. Then a Silver Scarab leaps out, fires, then ducks away. "Ah, Scarab! How nice of you to--what?!" Mobius shouts, as a second Scarab fires. Then a third. Then all heck breaks loose. "Guards!" Wu Ming barks. "Sebek _take_ the guards," Mobius cackles, snapping his fingers. Enormous mechanical men explode out of a nearby warehouse, sending splinters everywhere as they march slowly toward the fray... =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Hang Time On Tue, 6 Apr 2004 08:44:26 -0400 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00011917 Roland X wrote on 4/6/2004, 4:11 AM: >> @^Eric, Roger - do either of you know anything about a Silver >>Scarab hero? They're planning to have him hanged tomorrow.^@ > > @Sorry, love. I'm afraid I've never heard of him.@ A thought >suddenly occurs to the Hunter. @Maybe the boy scout's old gang would >know -- the lady knight, the cyberpunkette, the Lunar, that bunch. >Could be a native.@ Grephnix, Thunder, and Sparrow share a glance and mutual shrug. Thunder replies. @Ah'm sorry, Aunt Zee, but we've never heard of him eithah.@ =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Hang Time On Tue, 6 Apr 2004 09:15:31 -0400 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00011918 >Roland X wrote on 4/6/2004, 4:11 AM: > > Rex stopped, the Silver Scarab from the waist down, a private eye >from there up. He turned. A single tear glistened in Sadi's eye. >"You're worried." > "There is a hope, true...I sense a faint chance that others will >aid you at your greatest need." Sadi looked him straight in the eye. >"If they do not, however...there is little hope. Even for the true >Silver Scarab." Aboard a blimp headed for Casablanca, Grephnix stirs from his meditation, and turns his head back and forth, for all the world like a bird dog testing a scent. After a moment, he nudges the snoring Thunder with an elbow. "ZZZZsnargglewhat? Huh?" "Tell me, younger brother," Grephnix asks wryly. "Are you feeling particularly heroic? I suspect a Dramatic Rescue is in the offing." Thunder grins. "Flamboyantly so, ah reckon. Lemme at 'em!" "Well, not till dawn in Cairo." "What? Well then what in tarnation didja wake me UP fer? Stupid Jedi..." Disgruntled, Thunder rolls over and goes back to sleep. "Well," Sparrow comments from across the way. "That was pointless." Grephnix merely looks enigmatic. > The next day. > > "Proceed," Mobius sighs. Though all that can be seen under the >hood are white eyeslits, the rolling eye look is obvious. > Then a Silver Scarab leaps out, fires, then ducks away. > "Ah, Scarab! How nice of you to--what?!" Mobius shouts, as a >second Scarab fires. Then a third. Then all heck breaks loose. > "Guards!" Wu Ming barks. > "Sebek _take_ the guards," Mobius cackles, snapping his fingers. >Enormous mechanical men explode out of a nearby warehouse, sending >splinters everywhere as they march slowly toward the fray... There is a distant, mournful howl that would be familiar to any "Airwolf" fan (no one in *this* crowd, alas), that quickly dopplers up into an earthshaking roar that defies localization. Mobius has just enough time to start looking for the source before his platform and awning are hammered flat by the shockwave of a nearly-indestructible man-sized object travelling at about Mach 3. Oddly enough, the shockwave doesn't seem to hit anything else very hard. Wrapped in the coccoon of his kinetic blastfield, Thunder kicks it into third gear and "trenches" across the plaza, using the fine-tuned control "surfaces" and "louvres" in his field to vent the most harmful side effects of his velocity away from bystanders, and towards where it will do the most good. Making a beeline for the nearest mechanical giant, Thunder erupts from ground level like an ascending thunderbolt and smashes into it with his field set for soft impact -- rather than shearing through the giant like a bullet, instead the giant "splats" against Thunder's blastfield like a (big) bug against a (tiny) windshield, and is carried aloft as Thunder pushes it onto a trajectory that will terminate far out in the empty desert. *Then* he darts away from it, gets a running start, and gives the giant a taste of a Mach 5 shockwave straight through the torso. This all took perhaps five seconds. Thunder is already charging back towards the battle at best speed. Twisting the bezel of his aviator's goggles, he zooms in on one giant which has apparently decided that an unarmed target is easier pickings -- it is advancing on the prisoner Silver Scarab. /Ah got this {} one!/ From twenty thousand feet to ground level in the blink of an eye, Thunder strikes the mechanical giant from directly above. This time he uses his blastfield to do something rather more exotic: rather than being shredded, the giant is smashed flat into the ground like the offspring of an accordian and a railroad spike, abosrbing *all* of Thunder's considerable high-Mach kinetic energy, and all without creating any shrapnel. When the dust clears, Thunde is hovering above the shallow crater, grinning at the startled Scarab. "Howdy. Heard y'all was having a little shindig, decided to invite our ownselves. Hope y'all don't mind." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Hang Time On Tue, 6 Apr 2004 08:25:01 -0700 (PDT) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00011919 >On Tue, 6 Apr 2004 08:44:26 -0400 >"David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00011917 > > Grephnix, Thunder, and Sparrow share a glance and mutual shrug. >Thunder replies. @Ah'm sorry, Aunt Zee, but we've never heard of him >eithah.@ @That's quite all right, shugar.@ The Just Violet replies, with only a twitching hint of amusement as she matches the, ahem, dialect. @I'll just have to introduce myself.@ =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Hang Time On Tue, 6 Apr 2004 09:43:55 -0700 (PDT) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00011920 >On Tue, 6 Apr 2004 09:15:31 -0400 >"David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00011918 >> "Guards!" Wu Ming barks. >> "Sebek _take_ the guards," Mobius cackles, snapping his fingers. >>Enormous mechanical men explode out of a nearby warehouse, sending >>splinters everywhere as they march slowly toward the fray... > > There is a distant, mournful howl that would be familiar to any >"Airwolf" fan (no one in *this* crowd, alas), (That's what _you_ think) While all this very effective distraction is going on, the shorter executioner (this is after all, Egypt) in the black headsman's mask steps up behind the prisoner, careful to give him no chance to attack. "Don't move your arms." A woman's voice emerges from the grim mask precise and very clear with that indescribable force particular to mothers everywhere. Silk-gloved fingers, slender enough they could only belong to a woman, slide between his flesh and the bonds. >that quickly dopplers up into an earthshaking roar that defies >localization. Mobius has just enough time to start looking for the >source before his platform and awning are hammered flat by the >shockwave of a nearly-indestructible man-sized object travelling at >about Mach 3. Oddly enough, the shockwave doesn't seem to hit >anything else very hard. > Wrapped in the coccoon of his kinetic blastfield, Thunder kicks it >into third gear and "trenches" across the plaza, using the fine-tuned >control "surfaces" and "louvres" in his field to vent the most >harmful side effects of his velocity away from bystanders, and >towards where it will do the most good. "Rather ingenious, this compound, but these polymers are subject to UV embrittlement. Though I suspect aging under sunlight wasn't a consideration in this particular instance." She adds, as warmth blossoms at his wrists. It feels like the fierce tropical sun prickling - but fiercer. "Regrettable, the sunburn, but -" Her fingers wrap; he can feel her hands strain apart with a strength that he cannot believe even when feeling it directly. The fiendishly clever bonds that hold him part with a sharp snap. Her hand flashes upward, wrapping around his throat, beneath the cording as it constricts, preventing it from smashing his larynx and suffocationg him. "Wicked, but sadly unoriginal. Here." He feels the comforting weight of a well-balanced pistol slide into his hand. "It doesn't run out of bullets. You can move now. Want a mask?" > Making a beeline for the nearest mechanical giant, Thunder erupts >from ground level like an ascending thunderbolt and smashes >into it with his field set for soft impact -- rather than shearing >through the giant like a bullet, instead the giant "splats" against >Thunder's blastfield like a (big) bug against a (tiny) windshield, >and is carried aloft as Thunder pushes it onto a trajectory that will >terminate far out in the empty desert. *Then* he darts away from it, >gets a running start, and gives the giant a taste of a Mach 5 >shockwave straight through the torso. As he turns toward her, she doffs the fearsome blackness of the headsman's mask to offer it. She stands revealed, above the black robe, in a brilliant purple scarf worn like a veil over her hair and wrapping her lower face. Smokey purple quartz squared lenses float - unsupported - before her eyes, so dark her eyes are almost hidden. > This all took perhaps five seconds. Thunder is already charging >back towards the battle at best speed. Twisting the bezel of his >aviator's goggles, he zooms in on one giant which has apparently >decided that an unarmed target is easier pickings -- it is advancing >on the prisoner Silver Scarab. > /Ah got this {} one!/ @"Thank you, Thunder."@ Ultraviolet comments, as she draws two more pistols to fill her own hands. "Scarab? If I may conduct you, there is a home nearby where another confederate awaits. I believe he can offer us concealment, even so close to our foe." > When the dust clears, Thunde is hovering above the shallow crater, >grinning at the startled Scarab. "Howdy. Heard y'all was having a >little shindig, decided to invite our ownselves. Hope y'all don't >mind." "Thundie, we still have villains on the loose. Pleasantries and introductions must wait." UV frowns to herself, throwing off the black robe, and then taking careful aim at the poles holding the covering over the grand dais. Her pistols speak in a smooth, rolling roar, as she blasts away at the poles, seeking to plunge the canvas down around the villains for a momentary advantage. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Hang Time (Long Sorry) {Note: parts of this post were retconned out; they're marked by [...]} On Tue, 6 Apr 2004 16:02:06 -0400 Saint Dharma / Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00011921 >On Tue, 06 Apr 2004 00:57:54 -0700 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00011916 Earlier that day. The seas to the west of Cairo were placid as glass when suddenly a great churning of water and spray emerged out of the water. Slowly the head of BORIS 1 emerged from the salty sea, it's giant footsteps thudding the sea floor and reverberating onto the beach. As the body emerged from the sea, it's bronze armor glimmering, a THUMP THUMP BOOM could be heard a mile away. Then suddenly as it appeared, the robot disappeared, leaving only a wash of spray to indicate where it was. The BORIS 1 came ashore, leaving gigantic footprints in the sand. From inside the cockpit, the Good Doctor could feel the energy of the reality storm boiling around him. The mini-lens on his arm glowed as it absorbed the possiblity energy from the reality storm. Red and blue bolts of lightning struck the air around the robot, but no damage could be done to it. The cosm had accepted the robot within it's rules. "Excellent. Ana, patch my comm system to this phone number. 867-5309. Then do a search for Mr. Dixon Hill and connect me to him. A few moments passed, then Ana spoke up. #Uncle Emil, I have a connection to Dixon Hill established.# #Good, my dear. Patch it through to my voice comm, and notify the others aboard that now is the time to disembark.# #Yes, Uncle Emil.# There is a click as the AI switches from comm to lens link. /Attention all passengers of AEtherian Flight 9. We have arrived at our destination. Please note that we are now in another reality separate from our own, so secure all equipment and valuables. Please exit the compartment at the designated signs posted at the front and rear. Thank you, and good luck./ On the voice comm, the phone rang a few times then a voice came in over the line, "Hill Investigations, this is Fatima." {"Good day, Fatima. Is Mr. Hill in his office?"} "I'm sorry, sir, he's with some other clients may I take a message?" {"Yes please. Tell Mr. Hill [...] to contact me at this number."} he gives the number to Dixon's secretary and hangs up. A few minutes later, the comm beeps as a call is routed from the private number he created to his comm system. {"Good day, Dix. What's shaking, as they say?"} {"You wouldn't believe it. Seems Dr. Henry Jones Jr. isn't the only one searching for the Forge of Ptah. I had one Evelyn O'Connell and her family in my office. I told 'em where to find Indy since he was the one that had the Forge. Though she looked a little bookish, her bearing suggested that she could handle herself. So I gave her the address of the bar where Indy and Buck were holing up, preparing to make the costumes you suggested."} {"Excellent. I have heard of the legendary Forge of Ptah, and I am glad to see that two immanent archeologists/adventurers are on the hunt. [...] #"Will do, Doc. Normally, I would charge my usual fee here, but since we all stand to lose if Mobius and his allies win, I will waive it"} said Dixon. The Good Doctor smiled [Perhaps my detective friend has a heart after all.] {"Very good, Dix. Good luck with the O'Connells. You're going to need it."} he says as he breaks the connection to Dixon. [I think it's time I showed Ana the new toy I made for her.] The Good Doctor gets up from the captain's chair and walks over to a large closet in the hallway. He opens the door, and inside stands a perfect replica of Ana when she was 25 years old. It is not a human body, however. His skill in robotics and biomechanical engineering were put through their paces when he designed her "toy", but it was a labor of love as well as for Science. [It was good I planned for this eventuality] he muses as he admires his handywork. [Also good was the designs that my VA friends gave me for a suitable silicon brain to house Ana's vast intellect. The trinary computer system is the best thing that they have come up with.] Romanov shakes himself from his reveire. #Ana, come forth. I want you to try the new toy that I have made for you.# #What marvelous device have you....Oh!# exclaims the AI #"It's wonderful, Uncle. My scans indicate that it is a cross between bionics and human design. It's perfect."# #"Yes, my darling niece. Just like you, perfect. You can download yourself into the braincase. You will find that your abilities are the same as they were. And the added defensive measures I included are designed to protect you should you fall prey to our enemies."# There is a series of flashing lights around the robot body that increase in speed as the AI downloads herself into the robot. Then there is a flash of electricity from the nodes near her head. Electricty arcs from the tip of the nodes to the points just behind the ear and the robot slowed opened her eyes. Eyes which flashed an electric green as the electricity arced. "Un....cle. This....is....wonderful. But..I...feel...very....odd." said Ana in a human voice. Romanov beamed like a father doting on his beloved daughter. "It is natural. Your brain case is reinitializing and formatting itself to interact with the neural network. You will feel slightly disoriented, but you should be able to walk." The robot Ana slowly emerged from the closet she was in. She was naked, though she had no obvious gentalia or nipples. She carefully stepped into the offered robe that Romanov had in his hand. It was a black silk number, floor length. "Thank you, Uncle for this lovely gift. But I suspect that you created this not just with me in mind?" said Ana, her voice picking up stamina as her brain interfaced with the neural net. Romanov smiled, "Yes, actually. I will need you to go to the Living Truth Agency and deliver a message for me." "Yes, papa. Tell me your wishes." > Rex trailed off as the mystic walked up to him, taking one of his >hands in hers. "This once, I do not know what tomorrow brings, Rex >McMasters. I do know this, however: whatever comes, I would that we >face it together." > The Silver Scarab paused for a moment. > Then he kissed her. > The placid, unflappable Sadi Bel-Adda melted in his arms. > "Together," he agreed, pulling on his mask. [...] Sometime later, near the docks. Ana was nervous. Her EM scans and thermos didn't pick up anything, which made the stranger's appearance all the more startling. He was followed closely by a large bear of a man, carrying a large bundle in a sack. The shorter man was dressed in a manner that bespoke of "treasure hunter" whereas the larger man looked as if he had been on a 3 day ride on the back of a very grumpy camel. "Indy,"said the large man in a drawl, "are ya sure that we can trust this? This place is crawling with shock troopers. "I am not really sure, but I am making this up as I go along. My gut tells me that this is a good place for operations. "If I may have you attention, gentlemen" said Ana, "I will need to make some preparations before you set up shop. Do you have enough people willing to wear the costumes?" Indy grinned, "Yeah, it's amazing what people will do for money around here. Some were even willing to work for nothing provided that this would stick it to The Pharoah. Mobius isn't very well liked around here. More feared than anything, really. But once we showed em what the Forge could do, their fears left the building." "Very well," said Ana. "Inside the warehouse, you will find what you need. Set it up to where I can run things, then I have another assignment for you, Indy. My uncle, Dr. Romanov, tells me that there is a great treasure being sought by Mobius that will allow him to turn the tide of the war. This item must not fall into his hands. You and Buck take a plane to Cheops, and await further instructions." Buck scowled, "Now hold on, ma'am. No disrespect, but I've been dragged all over this god-forsaken area for this little trinket, and now you want me to take him" he said motioning to Indy, " to a place that the goddamn Pharoah has placed his elite guards at?" Ana blanched at the rough words that the hillbilly used, but pressed on, "Yes, actually. If you are worried about expenses, the gold you made from the Forge should more than cover that. Besides, I guessed that Dr. Jones could use the help of Evelyn O'Connell, since the heiroglyphics that need translated are probably beyond his knowledge." Upon hearing the name, Indy paled. "Wait....Evie O'Connell? As much as I respect her and her efforts, she's nothing but a nosy tomb raider who would open Pandora's Box just to see what's inside. It was only by good fortune and her family that she was able to survive both encounters with Imhotep." "Actually," said Ana, "she is quite the scholar, and could prove useful. Plus I hear that her husband taught her a few things over the years so she would be pretty good in a fight if needed. And her brother is a crack shot with a long rifle as many of Imhotep's thugs found out at Ahm Shere. Plus her son is no slouch either when it comes to archeology. He has his father's courage, and his mother's brains." Indy thought ruefully, [If it wasn't for the donation that Romanov is giving to the University, I would take my gold and go home. But the chance to work with Evie O'Connell is....interesting.] "Okay, you got me. But what is this thing, we are supposed to find?" "Quite simply," said Ana, grinning impishly as people started milling into the area to get the costumes "The Nose of the Sphinx." "I have a really bad feeling about this...." said Indy as he headed inside the warehouse to setup shop and get ready. > The next day. > A martial drum beat rattles out an ominous beat. The sense of >finality is palpable. Jack Murphy, once known as the Silver Scarab, >walks slowly but defiantly toward his doom, even his executioner awed >as he needs no prodding. For a moment, however, he stops and looks up >at the magnificent dais, adorned in the grandest style the Lower >Kingdom had to offer, that has been prepared for the event. The Good Doctor activates his long range viewer. He watches as the Silver Scarab approaches the gallows. [Well, time to put things in motion.] he muses. He turns the key in the ignition, and a rumbling sound emerges, though from the outside there is nothing there to tell where the sound is coming from. A few seagulls bounce harmlessly off the kinetic dampening field, screeching bird curses. Suddenly the inside of the cockpit transforms into a smaller version of itself. Romanov activates his power armor, and the armor merges with the robot interface. From his eyes, he can see everything around him thanks to the 360-degree camera he has placed in the well armored head. "Targeting sensors online. Tesla batteries full charged and ready. Sheilds at 100%, flight mode....ON!" suddenly there is a WHOOOSH! of air and a blast of fuel as the robot takes to the skies above Cairo. > "Proceed," Mobius sighs. Though all that can be seen under the >hood are white eyeslits, the rolling eye look is obvious. > Then a Silver Scarab leaps out, fires, then ducks away. > "Ah, Scarab! How nice of you to--what?!" Mobius shouts, as a >second Scarab fires. Then a third. Then all heck breaks loose. > "Guards!" Wu Ming barks. > "Sebek _take_ the guards," Mobius cackles, snapping his fingers. >Enormous mechanical men explode out of a nearby warehouse, sending >splinters everywhere as they march slowly toward the fray... And then.... >On Tue, 06 Apr 2004 10:18:26 -0700 >Patrick O'Shea Said As FD.CAoL Message # 00000122 > >Note: I'm making a few assumptions here, hence my sending it to the >FD list. Specifically, that we make it to shore/the city the night >before the hanging, and have time to set up. > >"With your permission, I will go ahead." Patrick says, stepping off >of the blimp (OOC: Which I really hope has landed). "I will check the >town and see what I can learn. If needed, I can be reached >telepathically." OOC: The robot has landed. And that's one small step for Science, one giant leap for Earth-9. >So saying, he steps off, and soon enters the town. Already, the >gallows has been erected, and guards mill around, in various states >of inebriation. "Hey, who goes there?" one guard drunkenly demands, >waving a semiautomatic towards a shadow. > >"Just someone eager for the show." Patrick replies, voice matching >the guard's accent almost perfectly. "Come, tell me what will be >happening tomorrow." The young Kai leads the guard off, promise of >gold and liquor working as well as any psychic force Patrick could >bring to bear. The Good Doctor watches the Kai Master do his thing, and remarks, "That reminds me of the time I had to take out a rogue Akashic Monastery that had been corrupted. The things they could do, it was amazing. It was very sad that the Oni had destroyed them from within." And THEN.... >On Tue, 6 Apr 2004 09:15:31 -0400 >"David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00011918 > > There is a distant, mournful howl that would be familiar to any >"Airwolf" fan (no one in *this* crowd, alas), that quickly dopplers >up into an earthshaking roar that defies localization. Mobius has >just enough time to start looking for the source before his platform >and awning are hammered flat by the shockwave of a >nearly-indestructible man-sized object travelling at about Mach 3. >Oddly enough, the shockwave doesn't seem to hit anything else very >hard. OOC: That's what YOOOOU think. > Making a beeline for the nearest mechanical giant, Thunder erupts >from ground level like an ascending thunderbolt and smashes >into it with his field set for soft impact -- rather than shearing >through the giant like a bullet, instead the giant "splats" against >Thunder's blastfield like a (big) bug against a (tiny) windshield, >and is carried aloft as Thunder pushes it onto a trajectory that will >terminate far out in the empty desert. *Then* he darts away from it, >gets a running start, and gives the giant a taste of a Mach 5 >shockwave straight through the torso. The Good Doctor begins his controlled descent, tight beaming to Roger Thunder /"I hearby dub thee Roger Ramjet."/ And THEN... :-D >On Tue, 6 Apr 2004 09:43:55 -0700 (PDT) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00011920 > > "Don't move your arms." A woman's voice emerges from the grim mask >precise and very clear with that indescribable force particular to >mothers everywhere. Silk-gloved fingers, slender enough they could >only belong to a woman, slide between his flesh and the bonds. As Romanov gets closer, he recognized the familiar energy pattern of The Just Violet, and breathes a little easier. [Good, I was hoping she would get there to free him in time.] The Good Doctor watches as 2 of the mechanical men make their way towards the Faux Scarabs that are firing at Mobius and company. "Time to even the odds, as the odds get even." With that he rockets down to the ground, twisting so the BORIS lands just outside of the palace walls. He takes care not to crush any occupied housing or people, and lands with a thud that would register 4.3 on the Richter scale. He activates the outside comm system, and modifies his voice. "Hey! Why don'tcha pick on someone your own size, you two-bit metal monstrosities." Suddenly the air around the robot shimmers, and the BORIS 1 appears in full glory, with the Tesla coils charged. "It's time I take charge of the situation, Mobius." Blue-red-white streaks of lightning emerge from the forearms of the BORIS, and arc toward the giant metal men. There is a BUZZZZZZZ as the lightning strikes the robots, frying their circuitry. Then the lighting sticks to them, as the robots are lifted into the air and thrown over the BORIS and into the sea behind him. "If that's the best that the feared Dr. Mobius can do, perhaps he should go back to school?" quips the BORIS/Good Doctor. Dr. Mobius looks in a combination of rage and respect as Doc Energy tosses his creations like they were mere toys. Not willing to give him the satisfaction, he fumes, "I doubt you will be the one to teach me, Energy." he snaps his fingers again, and an unearthly roar is heard, followed by the sound of metal on metal. The Good Doctor pans over to the twin sphinxes as both of their eyes start to glow red, then rise out of their perches and make a beeline for him. He slowly brings the right hand quad cannon to bear on the first one when it suddenly pounces, tackling him and knocking him into a row of derelict houses. The crash and dust only barely covers the thrashing of the two metal giants. Suddenly there is a HUMMMMM and a BUZZZZZZ as the Robot Sphinx is hurled 1000 feet into the air. The Good Doctor rockets up and body checks the sphinx, smashing it into pieces. [Shields at 70% and holding] thinks Romanov. /"Look out, Roger Ramjet. Another sphinx is headed your way!"/ Dr. Emil Romanov "It's pulp, not camp." ===========================