Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Bits o' Legionnaire Business FINALE! - Legion 35C

Xo ‘Strer Chan, the Dalai Lama of the Trom Buddhists knows what he must do.

As the aged man allows his two Emerald Eyes of Ekron to propel him through space towards Legion ‘Stroid he collects his thoughts and focuses on the meeting he must ensure he has with Kord Das. Chan knows he must make the Legion leader see that this attack on the Life of the Dying Realm must stop.

This is not the way to save the Milky Way from That Which Must Occur.

Xo ‘Strer Chan has lived a long life. He has had a long time to train and prepare for the Hard Life of the Offworlder, though his Brotherhood had never in their wildest dreams imagined that their prize possession, the access to the intra dimensions, would lead to such a bloody and terrifying conclusion. They did not want the blood of two universes on their collective hands.

In the space of only the last three decades he had seen his Brotherhood grow from a small community on the outskirts of civilisation, grow to be feited as the saviours of a weary universe and fall to the depths of despair as they learn that The Gift of Travel is tainted with the cries of wounded Life.

They had come a long way from when his mother had fled to Trom, away from his violent father nearly two hundred Trom years ago. His father, with his half trained psionics had tried to track her and bring her back to his Tartarus Hell life. The Monks of Trom had taken her in, helped her through a difficult pregnancy and protected her from the man who had used her as a serf and impregnated her against her choice.

From his father Chan had inherited a strong body and a razor sharp mind. Although not psychic himself he had formidable mental strength and psi barriers that could have repulsed Titan Net Questioners. It was because of these barriers that he had been chosen to engage with the Eyes of Ekron. Their twisted whispering of promises of power meant nothing him. As one of the Brotherhood of Trom why would he want for anything they could offer when his adopted family needed for nothing anyway?

Still the Trom Buddhist Movement’s Upper Hierarchy had waited for one with a mind like Xo ‘Strer Chan before releasing the Eyes from their crystal prison.

His task was not simple and there had not been a day gone past that he had not prayed to Holy Jan CRE 71 for guidance. Yet still, he was charged with protecting the Gift. The Life of the Valenian Realm was to be saved at all costs. It had suffered unimaginable hurt as a result of his Brotherhood’s miscalculation and it was Xo ‘Strer chan’s path to guide it to safety.

He had thought that pitting the Ambassadors onboard Legion 'Stroid against themselves and sewing the seeds of dissent against Kord Das's Legion would have been enough. He had planned to... persuade the young Winathian to his cause, distracting the gathered Beings from their War against the Grand Invaders.

Fate it seemed had other plans.

Xo 'Strer Chan was not one to stop believing in his mission just because Fate might want to do something differently. He knew he would have to be fast, but he had to persuade Kord Das to stop!

The Firstfooters divide into smaller groups as they continue their mission.

Searching the intra-dimensional ways for the fragments of their fallen Soulsinger, they are drawn down dimensional wells, through vari-hued lines of power and along broken uncharted paths by the echoes of the Amber Man’s Song that still resonate within the lost remains. They move with a purpose, like an army of ants across the cavity walls of a broken down house.

With each find they hear the deep bell like chime of acknowledgement from their cosmic totem. They continue their search with added zeal, His will be done.
…………………….

Dozens of confused Legion ‘Stroid staff and visitors had been ushered up to the Ambassadorial Section.

Snaija and Blackout had argued briefly early on in the search. They had come to a damaged Sleep Cubby, normally occupied by shift security staff. Here were no life signs showing on the Info grid but Snaija wanted to know for sure if there was anyone inside.

Snaija Patel was unused to any Being refusing her requests, and certainly would never have expected it from a trainee.

“NO? What the squajj do you mean by that?”

The Reaquindoodis Lizard girl had merely stared at Snaija with fish cold eyes and not replied.

“I said phase through the walls and search the bloody quarters for any stragglers!” Mega’s tone of voice was one of command.

“Errrr Snaija.. Ma’am..” Gannet rather bravely stood between the two Beings and tried to get into Snaija’s line of sight, breaking the eye contact between the two. “Erm.. that’s not how her power works Ma’am, y’see she don’t phase through thing, stuff just phases through her, y’know, like a shadow, you move through it, it doesn’t move through you..”

The gimlet hard eye contact was maintained for a further three long seconds before Snaija turned towards the young Bismollian. She closed her eyes for two second, sucking in a deep breath and said “Right, munch a hole in the wall then and see if there is any Being inside please Gannet. Blackout, scout ahead and tell us if you find anyone.”

Five minutes later and Snaija believed that the task Enri Longtan had set them would be shortly finished and she could return to the safety above. A ‘Stroid wide announcement calling on all none essential staff to evacuate their quarters and travel quickly to the upper decks had gone out she was amazed by both the speed of the reaction and the professional manner in which it was carried out.

The AI Bubblejack facility suddenly going offline had not been expected.

At first Gannet had suggested it was because the 'Stroid had been damaged in an attack and Snaija half considered it to be a plausible explanation. The AI Neural Web was held within the bowels of the station, for an attack to have reached that far into the ‘Stroid it would have caused massive structural damage to get there. If this were the case Snaija thought that around each corner they would find a gaping maw falling into deep space. As they progressed through the station it became apparent that this was not the case.

Snaija Patel was worried by the thought of what might have gone wrong that they were without AI support anymore.

Excerpt from the personal journals and memoirs of Lady Serah Kesch of House Landonkess of Xanthu.

That carazy day had just been too much for Grand Mama Jollie, the Midshipbotman was at a loss what to do.

We were en route to the Civil Society of Space Fund Raiser on Naltor when things just went.. wrong! The Family had invested a lot in the charity and it was deemed only appropriate that we send a couple of representatives to this meet. As I was approaching marital age and Grand Mama was well respected amongst the elder statesmen who would be present we were told to go. Of course in those days when the Family asked something of one, it was never questioned. It simply wouldn't have been done!

The Captain had joined us for a glass of finest Xanthui Port and a multiplayer Bridge tourney. He was a great bear of a man, with surprisingly gentle hands. In his immaculately pressed white uniform I thought he rather cut a dash. His great walrus moustache and broad shoulders made quite an impression on me. Grand Mama said that there was obviously a Family Member somewhere on the wrong side of the sheets in his ancestry and that’s why he had such class.

After a day with just Grand Mama for company I wished for a little wrong side of the sheets!

The Alarum was raised quite surreptitiously, the captain’s wrist’mator gently chimed and if I hadn’t of seen his eyes widen as he read the message I would have believed him when he said he would be back shortly, he just had a little business to finish as he gracefully excused himself and left our quarters.

Of course, we were unaware that the fabric of Hyperspace had been warped and cracked by the intra-dimension Invaders.

We were left in our quarters for ten whole minutes before the Ship alarm burst into life. On the Outer Deck, where the Family always rode, this was signalled by all info skins fading up into life, the Captain’s ashen face appeared on them in every room. His message was short but very worrying.

“Do not attempt to leave your quarters, we are under attack! I repeat, do not leave your quarters! This is not a drill!”

Well, Grand Mama Jollie summed it up rather well when she took the Family Mic and demanded the Captain report to us exactly what he meant by not allowing us out of our quarters. Did he not know who we were? She told him in quite certain terms that we were not amused by the current situation.

As she stood there like an Empress, in her Real Sable and Mink long dress with green Caruui leather gloves, all Grand Mama was worried about was missing out on her Star Bingo Hour with the other Ladies of Status.

In hindsight it was that day that changed the balance of power within the Galaxy, it was the Last Day of the Old Order. We were unaware of the new born Valenian Star, Of the many hundreds of brave Legionnaires who gave their lives, of the Last Flight of the Freetraders, of Dak Sacchev single handedly holding back an expanding star, of the Olympian Stand or of Legion ‘Stroid flying straight into the heart of the New Star in a last ditch desperate bid at defeating the Valenians.

All I could think of as I watched Grand Mama Jollie struggle with the door control was how awful it was that her wig had slipped by a centimetre and the servants could clearly see a line of her white hair framing the left side of her immaculate face.

The shame!

Helen of Thermyscira holds onto Zoe Saugin’s hand.

The Amazonian warrior has had extensive battle ground training, and this includes first aid. The credo of her people has always been guided by compassion, and Helen has been given the chance to re-earn her honour in the eyes of the Amazons. She will not let them, herself, or her new friend Zoe down.

She has lain Zoe in the recover position; on her side, upward arm turned and folded over so her own palm cushions her desperately pale face. Helen holds her other hand, talking to her fallen comrade in surprisingly gentle tones between asking for help from her Sisters and praying to the Mighty Olympians for help against the appalling might of the Valenian Grand Invaders.

Although she is unaware of it her prayers are away to be answered.

…………………

Glorion and Abbi stand just within the Security Perimeter of the Legion Cruiser’s lower docking bay.

The opening into space is awash of colours as the cruiser continues to ride out on a wave of force created when the Valenian Star erupted. They are facing out away from the star so cannot see directly what is happening. They are glad of this as along the Legion Telepathway’s they can hear the awful truth of the massacre that is happening close by. That is bad enough.

The AI Bubblejack system announces that the object has been retrieved and the docking bay doors close with a silent flourish. They hear the air whoosh back into the large room and witness a heat haze in the otherwise empty docking bay, a shimmering of lines and colours that slowly coalesces into form. Over a matter of seconds that seem to Glorion to be minutes long, the Tamaran Princess regains her material form and collapses onto the cold deck floor.

Abbi turns to Glorion and says “Hey furbag, I hope you ain’t to close to this princess as I’m not getting anything from her mind. It seems like there’s nobody home!”

It is true that as Glorion rushes toward the golden Princess that her life affirming aura fades before his eyes.

“SHIT!”

The structure of the Intra – Dimensions is a complex arrangement.

To be able to begin to understand it one must think of a child’s model of the molecular form of tritanium. A mixture of bright balls beautifully composed in whorls and diamonds, connected by small stems.

Each 'ball' represents a Reality, each Stem a Realm.

If this model of the molecule were to be scaled up until it was, say building sized, with each ball holding a room, each stem a connecting corridor it would be easy to visualise one moving from sphere to stem to sphere as a way of travelling between rooms. One would not normally consider standing with a bazooka and blowing ones way through the connecting corridor to open the way to the neighbouring room. Yet if we continue with this train of thought as a metaphor for the structure of the Intra – Dimensions it would be succinct to say that this is a suitable image to give a fairly accurate description of the affects of the Valenian Realms invasion to the Einsteinian Reality and neighbouring Spaces.

And as one could image that the structure would collapse if one were to use a bazooka, so it would be fair to say, the structure of the Intra – Dimensions is falling apart with ominous speed.

As the centre cannot hold the weight around it in a collapsing building so the symbiotic nature of the Intra - Dimensions is tested and begins to come apart.
…………………………

They search for the remains of their fallen clanswoman, Wee Eavey Hakkawolla, the Soulsinger of the Amber Man.

She was disintegrated when the Valenian Life forced its way into the Einsteinian Reality, blown apart from the epicentre of the collapsing framework of the Many Realms. Her Firstfooter Clan split into smaller and smaller groups until they are each travelling individually.

With each find there is a chime.

A deep bell-like resonance that fills each one with pride and determination. Their Cosmic Totem, the Amber Man, is acknowledging their strength and prowess. Each chime brings a renewance of their Faith, confirmation of the Truth they each hold dear to their hearts.

They fan out along the debris and fracture lines. Each linked as they sing praises to their god, achingly fragile counterpoint echoes of his Song of Life.

Polurs Corpinini, Kid Mental of the Sol Defence League, and 19 of Xi Cho Kenned, Triple Cubed of the Carggg People’s Planetary Protectorate’s selves are aboard the CCC Deck of the Legion ‘Stroid.

“Grife on a bike it’s getting warm in here, I haven’t sweated like this since I was seventeen!”

“Polurs, it’s not that warm sweetheart, feel..” Triple Cubed brushes one of her hands across Kid Mental’s brow while another of her selves brings his left hand to her cheek.

“Hey, what.. I’ve the metabolism of the Galaxy’s greatest all round athlete, the stamina of the fittest True Born Human, why am I burning up like this?”

He looks at her eight selves stood in front of him and shakes his head, sending a spray of sweat into the air like a dog drying himself after a roll in a puddle.

One of Triple Cubed selves moves to the Med Desk, runs her fingers through the Info-display and frowns. Looking up she says in a quiet voice “It’s the New Star Polurs, you’re somehow attuned to something in it’s energy spectrum and it’s beginning to seep through you.”

……………………


When Helen of Thermyscira was banished from the Inner Sphere of Paradise Island, back to the Einsteinian Reality, she was not allowed to take any of the Objects of Power traditionally held by the Representative to the Outer Spheres. No Golden Lariat of Truth, no Thunder Spear of Father Zeus, the Shield of Eternal Olympus was taken away, her bow and arrows given to her by Sister Shadarelle of the Kiss of Hermes had to be returned and even the Helmet of Athena was removed.

Apart from her simple white linen robe, non magical sandals, basic bracelets of defence and a pair of sky blue star shaped earrings made of slivers of Amazonium, she returned to the Legion unadorned.

Still her Sisterhood watched her every move.

In their eyes her behaviour at the funeral of Shaman’s daughter was reprehensible. She had much to prove and more to atone for.

When the Legion Cruiser that sister Paragon rode in, was first thrown out into space by the erupting Valenian Star alarums rung within the Temple of Hera. Helen may have been disgraced but still she was an Amazon Warrior and as such she would have her Sister’s support if absolutely necessary.

An invasion against Reality constituted grounds to give support.

And not only from the Amazon Sisterhood.

As the wrecking effects of the Valenian invasion spread throughout the gossamer walls of the intra-dimensions Mount Olympus itself was shaken.

The Amazons, led by Queen Yunipta, Wearer of the Holy Girdle and Voice of Mother Hera Incarnate, and Diana, the Most Revered High Priestess of the Central Temple and Keeper of the Flames of Olympus, were amassing on the Great Sod, a hill that overlooked the mass Graves of the fallen from the War of the Spheres and the pure seas that lapped the southernmost shore of Thermyscira.

The egg hued skies were split as a storm of great wrath blew over the sea towards their sacred Isle. Faster than would be expected if natural, purple and black like a bruise.

At the fore of the storm the Sisterhood could see Father Zeus, resplendent in a corona of light, his son Herakles and grandson Adales with him. The three Gods in a gleaming chariot pulled by the finest example of a Stallion imaginable. Behind him an army could be seen on chariots of sun bright copper and gold, pulled by stallions coloured like the storm tossed sea below.

“AMAZONS! Stand down, this is a battle for your Gods!”

The entire hill seemed to move as if a tide had passed over it as the assembled army bowed to their Gods as They flew over head and winked out of existence inside the dissipating thunderhead.

The sea continued to roar below them for many minutes afterward, the sky shook with echoes of godly thunder and the Amazonian army knelt and prayed.

Guys, girls and others. Anyone got any views, comments, criticisms or queries?

Have I missed out anything or anyone you want to read about before I crack on and finish this story off?

Aboard the Daxam Northern Arm Fleet High Command Warship Rao’s Fist Commander Hor Elli sits quietly in his three sided cell, listening to the carnage all around.

He knew that the Warship had been badly damaged when the Clamp Down and Neutra-fields had abruptly cut out. It was only to be expected that a Daxam Space Ranger be held within these when incarcerated. The potential trouble a rogue Space Ranger could cause was well documented. Hor Elli had no intention of moving now that the fields were down. He knew that no matter what had happened to the ship it would be the end of his career if he left the cell before being summonded by a superior officer.

Hor Elli listened with his yellow sun enhanced hearing as the guards entered the corridor that led to his cell. He heard both Nar Nase and Byt Fees. He had seen them sat in their individual cells when the honour guard had brought him here. They had not acknowledged him, though Commander Elli saw the rise of bruising around both of their faces. The guards had not been kind to a pair of Non-breeders. That was to be expected. Daxam Space Ranger laws were strict about homosexuality.

Commander Hor Elli remained seated as the three guardsmen, Nar Nase and Byt Fees came into view.

“Commander, the upper Decks are lost, we must retreat and …”

“WHAT?” Hor Elli stands up and stares at the cowled guards. “The command decks are what?”

“Sir, the upper levels were lost and we are currently in a chaos orbit around the Invaders Star. Field Marshall Fri Ovid, High Commander Ste Gart, Ministerial Aides Jaz Soki and Ard Lomb, 4 of the Honour Guard.. 108 crew lost…” The mans face starts to show signs of grief and his voice cracks.

Nar Nase interrupts the guardsman litany with a blunt question, “Commander Hor Elli, as ranking officer on board the Warship Rao’s Fist we’ve come to ask you what shall we do now?”

……………..

Snaija Patel, also known as Mega of the Imskian Leviathons and the two cadets have searched through the living quarters, recreational areas and common spaces of ‘Stroid. The pitch dark is split with flashes of colour as vast swathes of radiation flares around this latest incarnation of the Legion’s base. They had been without any power beyond basic life support or even the AI Bubblejack facility for nearly ten minutes now. Enri Longtan had been in regular telepathway’d contact with Snaija but there had been silence along the Telepathways for almost a minute now. She had been searching in the pitch dark with two barely trained cadets and no idea of the situation outside of the ‘Stroid.

They are returning to the upper Ambassadorial Decks when the lizard girl Blackout turns a corner ahead of her comrades. There is a flash of green light and she is hurled against the wall at the intersection of the corner of the two corridors.

“Back!” Mega puts her arm out to stop Gannet from rushing forward. “Let me handle this.”

She cautiously approaches the corner, shrinking down to a height of six inches, before peering quickly around to see what had blown the cadet from Reaquindoodi backwards.

She gasps as she turns back, resuming her normal two metre height. Even without her infra red retina flips engaged she would have been able to see what was just around the corner. The Emerald Eyes of Ekron were legendary.

“Sprock! The blatchin’ Trom Buddhist is being held by two freckin’ Eyes!” She telepathways her assessment of the situation to Enri Longtan up in the Ambassadorial Quarters and turns to the eager cadet behind her.

“Wait a minute Gannet, We are in the clear for now, they appear to be going the other way, but let’s give them a few seconds okay?” She has spoken in a quiet but obviously very serious tone. There is no arguing with her suggestion. Gannet, not privy to the communication between Snaija and Enri Longtan or what Snaija has just seen around the corner, has no idea what the Legionnaire is talking about. Wisely he decides to keep quiet.

After about ten seconds Mega again shrinks before looking around the corner. The small Trom Buddhist Dalai Lama is not in sight though there is a faint green glow from one of the inter-junctions up ahead. Mega regains her height and tends to the fallen cadet. Blackout is slowly regaining her consciousness but her left leg is sticking out at an awkward angle, obviously badly broken.

“Gannet, it’s your responsibility to make sure your fellow cadet reaches the upper Ambassadors decks. Take her up the Southren Mixway tubes, do not, I repeat, DO NOT follow me.”

And before he can say anything Mega is off along the corridor following behind the fading green light.

The Great Dragon Herd has been beaten back again.

In their last attack against the Valenian Star they lost a further thirty one young males and three of the nursing females. Currently a little over fifty percent of the original Great Herd are left alive. Of all the many races involved in the attack on the Grand Invaders they have sustained the greatest percentage of losses.

The tattered remnants of the mighty pod of Drones spiral and swoop, circling around J’onn J’onzz as they regroup. His telepathy has overcome their natural flight response, keeping the great Beasts from fleeing from their enemy.

J’onn J’onzz fights the urge to flee as well.

Nearly twenty kilometres from them there is a disturbance in space, a sudden shimmering as the Einsteinian Reality folds in on itself and suddenly erupts with a light matching the intense glare of the New Star before them. J’onn transmits his alarm at this new development to the regrouped Dragons and they wing towards it, energy flaring from their extended maws.

From this new rent a strange fleet emerge, led by a mighty humanoid with long red hair and an impressive beard in a chariot being drawn by a stallion that radiates strength. In the chariot are two other humanoids, both with long hair, though clean shaven, armed with bows and arrows!

More and more, and a hundred more of these strange anomalous chariots appear, full of warriors dressed from a much earlier age. As this new force arrives it is obvious to J’onn that things must indeed be more desperate than he feared.

Their campaign has just been joined by the Old Gods of Earth.

………………………..

Thane Refrocan of the Vegan Wandering Stars tries to keep his forces in order. The Tamaran contingent are renowned for their military upbringing, having kept the traditions of Okaaran Warlords alive for the last fifteen hundred years they are a fearsome fighting force.

With the damage to the Bubble Arcs this resolve was sorely tested. Each of them feared they would have lost a family member when the Utter Apoge and support ships were destroyed. Thane Refrocan knew his grand daughter, X’stelji, would have been on board. He has no time to worry, search or even cry right now. The Invaders must be repulsed!

He keeps thinking to himself that they might not be in this position if only the timespun Princess been present. Her calming aura would have helped keep the forces in line.

Thane Refrocan has just finished giving a challenging broadcast along telepathways reserved for the Vegan community, rousing his soldiers to battle despite their recent losses. He has turned to his Number Two, one of the few remaining Tigorr clones, when a ball of Valenian Life energy, slightly smaller than Venus smashes and engulfs his, and a large percent of his warriors ships despite their best efforts to repulse it.

The Vegan Wandering Stars have just lost nearly sixty percent of their Tamarani Warrior caste in one blast.

B - as I've said before, marvellous story telling.

I haven't got the proverbial bastard clue what's going on, 'cos I find there's too many people to keep track - and a few of them that I've/we've never actually met before.
Some of the long running stuff I'm okay on, but there's other side bits that, although perhaps necessary to show the vast scale of what's going on, seems to clog things up a bit in my head.
Doesn't stop me enjoying every last sentence of what you write - in fact it probably adds to it in that "vast scale" that I mentioned earlier. Which really is the point of the excercise, isn't it?

loadsolove - keep it up, it's majestic!

I don't think I've added any new characters Ken, just fleshed out a few that were floating around and tried to include a 'state-of-the-galaxy' post here and there so you can appreciate exactly what's at stake (EVERYTHING, EVERYWHERE). Oh, and I introduced the Martian Manhunter as a last surprise guest star, but I think everyone guessed thats who Lady Reptilla really was.

I am trying to give a 'vast' feel to it all though by following a large cast, Legion by name and all that

I was going to focus on a few more, like a couple of the Freetraders and one or two of Triple Cubed individual selves but thought that might be taking things too far If you could believe I would ever do that

Glad you're enjoying it Numf, and doubly glad you're back

Anyone else got anything to add before I plow on with this at the weekend? Go on, tell me what works, what doesn't, what you'd like me to address before I finish this off once and for all, usual stuff.

Bxx

It takes Gannet and Blackout nearly three minutes to reach the Ambassadorial Level on the Mixways.

This delay is unheard of. Mixways are the fastest non intradimensional mode of transport, everyone knows that! In a culture where virtually instantaneous transport and access to information are regarded as much of right as drawing breath, the sudden loss of access to the AI Bubblejack facility and the slow de-powering of the ‘Stroids systems are as shocking to the young Bismollian as the horrific casualties of the war outside. Gannet has used the time in the Mixway tubes to perform basic field first aid on Blackout’s badly damaged leg. One extending plas-splint, a Retari bandage-gripper and some TLC later and the lizard girl is saying she wants to go back to help Mega. Gannet knows better than to allow her to return to the Lower levels.

A further two minutes and they are in the Great Hall with the other scared staff and Legionnaires. There is an atmosphere in the huge room of muted anxiousness. As the two cadets tumble through the door several dozen faces turn expectantly towards them as if expecting answers. He can see Enri Longtan, at twenty five feet tall, is calling for order amongst the stragglers and confused ‘Stroid staff. Even the legendary Gimallon looks worried. Gannet thinks to himself that perhaps it's best to wait to report to Gimallon, he looks stressed as it is.

Gannet spots Hol El and Stellar, fellow cadets and the nearest thing to friendly faces in the overcrowded room, and he politely makes his way through the crowd to their side. Even at a distance he can see that the two girls appear to be quietly sharing a joke. He’s never seen them talk politely before, let alone laugh genuinely together. War, he thinks sagely, makes for strange bed fellows.

Overhead, through the polarised layers of force field, they watch as the battle continues.

Glorion Grundy reaches for the Princess.

He gently cradles her head, through her wealth of luxurious hair, between his nearly human hands.

Glorion: ‘Beetle, I can’t feel anything, can you?

NowYouSeeMeNowYouCan’t Beetle: No Glorion, she is no longer alive.

Glorion (quietly, scared): ‘Beetle, what are we to do? I thought she was to be your next Host…

‘Beetle: I don’t know Glorion, I really don’t know.

Abbi Ardeen (rather rudely interjecting along a personal telepathic link): Guys, this isn’t a good thing, is it?

Glorion (gruffly): Abbi, shouldn’t you be guiding Mr Nah at the helm? Maybe it would be better if you kept your focus there?

Abbi: Hey furbag, his mind is a synch, I’ve got him dodging the ‘Star and firing the odd salvo of whatever it is this ship shoots at it. Can I… like, do you want me to do anything else?

Beetle: I don’t know what else to suggest, I’m at a loss, we’ve just lost a Goddess. This is terrible!

Abbi: Well if you wanna lurk in her ‘Beetle maybe I could, you know, like animate her for you?

Glorion (sternly!): That’s enough Abbi, please just don’t say anymore.

Abbi: Sorry furbag, I was only trying to help…

Glorion (quietly but with obvious anxiety): oh shit!

‘Beetle (concerned): What is it Glorion?

Glorion: Who’s going to tell Dak Sacchev?

Dak Sacchev is shaking violently.

The tremendous forces he has been channelling are taking a toll upon his impressive mutant Martian frame. His eyes are beginning to bulge out from their deep set sockets, his muscles are straining against his blue skin, his tendons are like razors, cutting through the flesh.

Still, the universal force of gravity is pulsing through his body and up around the Valenian Star. So far he has halted its unhealthy expansion into the Einsteinian Reality, but there are limits even to his god-like abilities, as he’s finding out. Dak Sacchev has faced foes that would have terrified meta beings from throughout the ages without even his pulse quickening. His very being is in danger now with the awesome energies he is wielding.

…………

“What do you mean you don’t know where she is?”

Enri Longtan is talking quietly to Gannet. The Imskian Leviathon has a neutral expression on his face, yet Gannet knows better than to treat this lightly.

“Sir, she.. we were… umm I… you see…”

Enri looks to the Titan Net Questioner beside them and says “help the lad out please,” in a tone of a parent close to losing his patience with an unruly child.

The images from Gannet’s mind of Mega telling him to leave as she followed a mysterious flash of green light flow through Enri’s mind in an instant. They are followed by a conversation Gannet had just finished with his fellow cadets Hol El and Stellar about their rescuing Sparkzzz from certain death after she had been kidnapped by the Dalai Lama of Trom.

Gannet had put two and two together and wisely gone for help.

Enri Longtan, still looking at the Titan Net Questioner asks if he can sense Snaija Patel on the ‘Stroid and let her know help is on the way.

Gannet finds his tongue and foolishly interrupts, “maybe I could arrange for a…”

Enri silences the young Bismollian cadet with a stern look, and returns his attention to the Questioner. The Questioner pushes his ornate hood back from his head and looks up at Enri Longtan with sad eyes.

“I can’t sense her Enri, I’m sorry, but I don’t think she’s on the ‘Stroid anymore.”

Onboard the Daxam Northern Arm Fleet Warship Rao’s Fist.

Hor Elli was given control nearly ten minutes ago. He has not wasted that time.

He has discovered that out of the 1, 978 Daxam Space Rangers originally within ten minutes of the Valenian Star there are currently 5,61 non-respondants – presumed lost in action. The Warship has been irretrievably damaged. It would take a Daxam month in Space Dock to fix. Something else else for later, he thinks. Right now he is examining information from the battle site. All readings from within thirty AU are being examined and considered.

The Freetraders have lost a large percentage of their Braves, the Dragons have been hammered, Dak Sacchev is beginning to show signs of distress, the Kenroshi are.. well, the Kenroshi are to be ignored right now as, Commander Hor Elli hopes, they appear to be doing something. The Green Lantern Corps has held it’s own and is running a defensive strategy that has saved much of the Legion Flotilla. The state of the Vegan Wandering Stars legendary Bubble Arcs is unknown, though the readings Hor Elli has seen do not paint a healthy picture. The remaining Metas and Space Beings that have been drawn into this battle are not fairing too well either.

The Meta Community, according to the information available to Commander Hor Elli, generally has lost approximately 40% of it’s fighting force.

Hor Elli looks at the readings flashing before his eyes. 1,000 of his fighting force have been ordered to aid the Dragons and Green Lanterns. Of the remaining 417, 61 are needed to keep the Warship and attendant vessels together and 104 are battle field medics or other non-combatant staff. 135 are in need of medical treatment leaving him a personal vanguard of 117 to help him as he does the only other thing he can think of that needs doing.

Hor Elli will take his men and go to Legion ‘Stroid and once there he plans on getting some answers from Kord Das.

As Snaija Patel ran after the disappearing green light she clicked open her telepathways, hoping that the loss of the AI Bubblejack’s wouldn’t affect her thought communicator. She could still hear nothing. Damn and Sprock!

She came to a corner, around which the emerald glow seemed to pulse. Again she shrunk, again she peered quickly around the corner.

She is shocked at what she has seen, there’s no denying it, the Trom Buddhist monk was directing the Eyes. He had been gesturing for them as they pound the force field around Kord Das’ laboratory.

“Sprock!”

Snaija, considering discretion as the better part of valour in this situation, turns to run back the way she’s just come. Her boot squeaks against the tiled floor.

“Sprock!”

Even as she runs full pelt back along the corridor she knows with a cold clenching in her stomach that the Dalia Lama would have heard her.

Out of the corner of her eye she can see the emerald light has moved, an Eye has come searching for her!

Opening an intimate buffered telepathway she shouts her thoughts out “Hor Elli, you bastard, you promised me you’d look after me if I looked the other way! Where are you?”

Hol El, the Final descendant of the Last Son of Krypton walks up the excited knot of Beings around Enri Longtan. With him are two Titan Net Questioners (looking mildly anxious), the Winathian ambassadors (looking annoyed), a Durlan Ambassadorial bodyguard(looking blankly) and Gannet (looking very scared but trying not to show it!).

As Hol El approaches she hears Enri tell the Winathians, quiet firmly, that they have nothing to fear, that Snaija will take care of any problems she faces and how much he appreciated their concern. Hol El didn’t believe that last part for a Xanthui Second! Enri Longtan, for all his attempts at a poker faced nature, was an awful liar.

He was worried sick, Snaija had been a close friend for nearly a decade.

“Enri, sorry to interrupt, but could I help?”

He barely looks at her, the edges of mouth turning down. He turns to address the Winathians again but before he can start Hol El takes hold of his muscular arm and gently turns him back towards her.

She speaks quietly in a determined tone, certain to get his notice but not carry too far beyond.

“Enri, I’m sorry things didn’t work out between us, honestly I am, you’re a decent man but for grife’s sake I’m invulnerable and can gene-bang other meta abilities. Let me go look for Snaija. If you really don’t care about me anymore then what have you got to lose?”

The air around them crackles with tension as Enri considers her request. He looks at each of the group acknowledging that they had been listening into the conversation as if gauging their views on the offer.

“Take Dajjik Al Ghurani with you.” He indicated the Durlan at his side, who nods his head briefly in acknowledgement to Hol El. The Durlan turns away and starts towards the large doors.

“Enri.. I really am sorry, but I promise I’ll get Snaija back for you.”

“You’d better go, Dajjik will be waiting.”

Hol El turns away and pushes through the nervous throng of Ambassadorial staff and Legion ‘Stroid staff to catch up with her new Durlan comrade as they embark on their dangerous rescue mission.

When Wee Eavey Hakkawolla had originally approached Hol El with the idea to try out for Legion membership Hol El had been scathing in reply.

Point blank no! And a few choice expressions, phrases and criticisms. Some of which were repeatable, but not the really choice ones! Wee Eavey, for all her long life living in the timeless intra dimensional realms had no idea what most of the words meant. She wouldn’t have cared anyway, her God, the Amber Man had sent her and she would persuade Hol El to try for membership.

Hol El was adamant, who did this sweaty offworlder think she was coming here to the neutral Small Worlds with this ludicrous idea?

As Wee Eavey continued talking, sweat streaming down her cheeks from the humid atmosphere of the Small World where Hol El resided, she used her voice in a way the Amber Man had taught her. Modulating the pitch just so. Stressing certain words and speaking with just the right cadence, Wee Eavey was incorporating a very small portion of the Song of Life into their conversation.

The Amber Man had taught Wee Eavey well.

A subtle twist here, a minor turn there, just a speck of manipulation to encourage the heroic longings Hol El had felt as a child – the desire to live up to her distinguished ancestors was given a boost.

As they were talking Hol El had felt easier and easier in the company of the small Scots-Mauri girl. They had been together for about three hours before Wee Eavey brought up the subject of Hol El’s ancestors. She had brought the subject up gently, no big fanfare about being a descendent of Super Man, instead Wee Eavey asked about her Grandmother and her Gene-banging techniques.

Now normally Hol El would have been fairly reticent to discus her grandmother. Her grandmother was never too greatly known in the Outside Sphere, she had only been a member of the Martian Defence League for under a standard year. On the Small Worlds she was a legend. The old lady had been one of the first of the Great Voices of the Core Minds, the governing body that legislated and controlled the five planets that made up the small independent allegiance. Had Hol El not been under the thrall of the Amber Man’s manipulation her natural caution would have made her less hasty to talk about her grandmother's legacy to an Outsider.

The family tree was full of legendary characters, all worthy of discourse, yet Wee Eavey asked specifically about Mol El. Hol El responded keenly, showing Wee Eavey the arm band and Gene banging capsule system. Wee Eavey asked all the usual questions (“What would happen if a normal person tried to use it?” – “They would die as it’s coded only to Kryptonian genetics”, “Does it hurt?” – “No.”) and even asked to look at the system.

Now, at this point Hol El’s suspicious nature reared up, but against the Amber Man her will had no chance, so she offered it to Wee Eavey to look at. She was so overcome by the subtle charms of the Song of Life that she never saw Wee Eavey slip a tiny slither of amber crystal into the mechanics of the system, hidden from sight by a capsule pod. Even if she had seen Wee Eavey deposit the material in the armband it would be doubtful that she could have ever seen the significance. Hol El had been convinced by then that trying out for the new Legion was exactly what she had to do. It was no less than her destiny!

She certainly would never have guessed that a trillion years of planning had gone into this meeting and at this point those trillion years of planning were complete.

I meant to post that last segment in Fun and Games but forgot about it until the other night.

Ooops, my bad

I had written out the next couple of parts too but I want to re-write a big chunk as I forgot that Hol El is to be the next.. ahh but that would be telling

Anyone got any thoughts on this so far that they'd like to share while we wait?

Bxx

My thoughts for you....

Like the interpersonal stuff going on in the face of the big bad - Hol El telling Enri off was good, Shaija's broadcast to Hor Elli was interesting too.....

Dak Sacchevv about to blow up is great! The Princess dying is unexpected, I thought you would use her to plug up the warp hole, oh well....

Glorion and Abbi make an odd team, most unexpected... who would want to tell Dak Sacchevv indeed! Bagsy not me

Not sure if I like Zeus and the Olympian contingent coming to join the fight....

Where's Triple Wolf, I liked him in the original Legion 35C story....

And a TRILLION years of planning?

Ok B, I've caught up with this, you can carry on now, thanks for waiting....

More more more please, thanks

Commander Hor Elli of the Daxam Space Rangers Northern Arm Fleet is furious!

While personally leading a team of 117 Rangers on the approach to Legion ‘Stroid he had tried to contact his wife Snaija along the standing personal Telepathways. There was no reply not even an acknowledging ping signalling that the message had been received. Most strange as Snaija was too professional to switch off the psychic communicator link.

Hor Elli had then tried a wide band Legion call. Enri Longtan, the ex leader of the Imskian Leviathons and long time friend of Snaija’s had replied, with less than positive news. On all fronts.

Enri’s take on the current situation on the ‘Stroid was, Commander Elli thought, appalling. The AI Bubblejacks were all off line – absolutely unheard of, and rather worrying as they regulated virtually every system onboard the ‘Stroid! Enri Longtan had no idea what had caused this situation and had been unable to personally find out as he was tied up dealing with the Ambassadors, their Aides, the crew of the ‘Stroid and the few Legionnaires and cadets in the Upper ambassadorial levels. Enri had explained that he had been given no choice but to confine the majority of the Beings onboard the ‘Stroid to the most secure area. With the exceptions of basic life support, primary force fields and minimal lighting the entire ‘Stroids power systems seemed to be diverted away, to parts unknown, by Being’s unknown.

Along the Daxam T’pathways there were a few muted comments about Imskian cowardice and the weaker races showing their true colours by hiding away while the stronger races fought their battles. Commander Elli silenced these thoughts with a stern broadcast to his subordinates reminding them that Space Ranger protocols did not allow them to have any views of this nature. At all.

Enri sent further information as the Space Rangers approached. None of it was very heartening to Commander Elli. Some Durlan bodyguard and that Hol El Cadet had been sent on a reconnaissance mission to find, and hopefully help, Snaija as she was last reported trying to track the Trom Buddhist Dalai Lama and two of the legendary Emerald Eyes! Snaija.. Hor Elli’s iron will had this one vulnerability, he genuinely loved his wife and like any Being truly in love will admit, it’s difficult to view the ‘Big Picture’ while the one that is loved is missing and possibly in mortal danger.

A Durlan and Hol El? What was Longtan frickin’ thinking of? Shaija was missing and he sent an independent probable mercenary and a half trained cadet to find her! Hor Elli knew that if he were to persinally start to search for his missing wife he would be lost. There was a bigger picture to focus on for now. Sending 15 of his men with orders to not bother him until they had found Shaija he kept the remaining 102 with him for a very specific task.

No one had heard or seen Kord Das in days now.

Commander Hor Elli of the Daxam Space Rangers Northern Arm Fleet planned on changing this.

Kord Das had much to explain.

Keith, thanks for your views.

As ever I appreciate your honesty. Glad you liked my wee soap opera moments. There are no plans for T'Wolf, sorry, though I may squeeze him in at some point. And one of your points isn't quite accurate, and one is definitely totally wrong. I'll let you figure it out

Anymore from anymore?

The Talokean Protocols were interpreted on many worlds in a variety of ways.

On the tectonically stable planets of Mars, Colu, Idluy’hhu, Xanthu Prime, Trom, Crevitta IV, Choelin Star One and many more huge underground bunkers, filled with many supplies for the rebuilding of the planetary societies were dug out and fitted with Hi Tec protection.

On Braal, the Nu UP renegade ruling Scientific Elite took a more selfish stance. With a population of over twelve billion on this mineral poor world, a further twenty one billion in the nineteen planeted solar system, the ruling class decided it was best to look after themselves.

Operation Nirvana was initiated.

They organised their army of over six million active soldiers into small teams each given the task of protecting their clearly defined areas and enforcing the system wide curfew. The remaining two and a half million military personnel were posted into deep space, ready to keep their boundaries safe. The bunkers built deep in Braal's planetary mantle where furnished with every creature comfort the Elite would need to survive the troubles ahead. It was certainly not for the masses.

With the eruption of the Valenian Star into the Einsteinian Reality the commanding officer of the huge Outer-system force, Chief Arno Fenna, decided a good defence was a strong offence. For nearly sixty standard years he had been proud to be a representative of his homeworld’s military. All his life Arno Fenna had seen his people undermined and suppressed by the financially more powerful races of the old UP. He had witnessed first hand his people’s standing in the Galactic community fall as the damned Imskians tore long established Braalian territories away. Well, he sprockin’ well was going to give the backstabbing NuUP something to think about, he was going to ensure that the Braalian Alliance would be regarded with a bit more respect in future. In a small part of his mind he acknowledged that this was his chance to be remembered as the man who returned the Braalian people to their rightful place at the forefront of the Galaxy.

Against every command he had received, Arno Fenna ordered his entire staff into an attack formation, two thousand men and women on board each of the twelve hundred and fifty space worthy crafts available. They were ordered to find and subdue the cause of the Galaxy wide alert. As they entered the hyper spacial places that all interstellar faster than light transpot relied on it quickly became apparent that there would be trouble. Chief Arno Fenna was to lose nearly 97% of his brave men and women in the search alone as the Valenian Realm, which their ships had previously navigated was no longer safe to travel through.

Still, when the seventy five thousand Braalian soldiers arrived at the site of the erupting Valenian Star their help was appreciated.

Chief Arno Fenna was not alive to see his charges heroic battle with the many AU long tendrils of intra dimensional might. He never witnessed the collective magnetic power of his people as they helped the crippled Vegan Wandering Stars repulse repeated attacks. He would have been proud of the stoic resolve they showed in the face of such a terrible overpowering aggressor. The already horrific losses they had endured were compounded when a spitball of Valenian energy, slightly smaller than Earth’s moon exploded less than a thousand kilometres from their position. Still the Braalian Army used ever iota of their natural magnetic might and each one of their thousand trans-spatial weapons to aid the Legion in their battle.

According to the many history books and theses written in the years to come, the Braalian regiments played at best a very minor role in the final Battle with the Grand Invaders.

Not one official historian thought it worth while to comment that the power they brought saved Dak Sacchev's life as he single handedly held back the expanding Star.

Chief Ardo Fenna was never mentioned in the history books.

In the Upper Ambassadorial Deck the lights gradually returned to life. The assembled dignitaries, Legionnaires and station staff fell silent until they had full illumination again then pockets of clapping and cheering erupted.

The AI Bubblejack command disc, slightly larger than a child’s Frisbee begun to spin on the wall above the main door frame. The Bubblejacks were back!

Enri Longtan did not waste time with the self congratulation and cheering displayed by the crowd around him. He strode over to the Bubblejack and spoke.

“Bubblejack, give me a ‘Stroid wide status report, locate Snaija Patel, Kord Das, Hol..”

But before he could continue with his command a holo of Kord Das appeared in front of him. The Legion’s Naltori leader was stood as if on a parade ground, feet placed shoulder width apart, shoulders back, chin up.

Without any preamble or sign of emotion the holo spoke.

“Enri Longtan, the Upper Deck is now sealed. The internal mag-shield will soon be reversed and this area shall be separated from the body of the ‘Stroid. You have two minutes to prepare.”

With that the figure winked out of existence, leaving a bank of surprised faces on the recently excited crowd behind it.

………………………………

Commander Hor Elli had ordered fifteen of his crew to go to the Upper Ambassadorial Deck, rendezvous with Enri Longtan and protect the Ambassadors on board. The Space Rangers would not be accused of not remembering their charges! Fifteen Daxamite soldiers, he reckoned, would be enough to deal with any problem they encountered.

With the other 102 of his men with him he first scanned the ‘Stroid with his enhanced senses establishing the positions of any other Beings onboard, not secure on the Ambassadorial deck. It was clear except for an area close to the heavily shielded laboratory at the core of the ‘Stroid. There he could see nothing but a disturbing emerald sick miasma like fog in which there seemed to be several figures, none of which were identifiable at this range.

Along Legion telepathways he heard Enri Longtan’s frantic commands for the Ambassadors to prepare for any impacts. What was going on? What is Das playing at now? Commander Elli's queries were answered as Longtan gave a short recap of the recent visitor and message he had received.

..Grife, where is Snaija?

Assembling his men in a traditional attack arrow formation he tore into the ‘Stroid aiming straight towards the Laboratory and, hopefully, answers from the arch manipulator Kord Das.

Well since no-one else seems to be commenting let me speak for us all and say "Go girl!"...

More, more, more.....