Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Bits o' Legionnaire Business The Death of Lightning Lad

By five minutes to midnight, the party was in full swing. The host glided out in his hoverchair from a concealed door onto an upper landing, making his first appearance of the night. The conductor looked up. The orchestra stopped playing. The dancing came to an abrupt halt. Conversations dwindled, turning into whispers, then stopped completely. There was a smattering of applause, then silence.

“My beloved family,” whispered Garth Ranzz, his quiet, hoarse voice amplified by a hidden microphone. “Most of you do not know it, but tomorrow it is just one hundred and eleven years since Imra and I founded the Legion. And we have just one hundred and eleven descendants at this time.

“I am gratified that one hundred and eight of you have managed to make it here tonight. I know that you are all busy, with many pressing responsibilities. We remark with sadness the absence of Garridan, Morado, and Mari. I will not now burden you with recounting the individual tragedies that do not allow them to be here. For you little ones who do not know, ask your parents. The Ranzz family has a long and interesting history.

“I miss Imra, and even Mekt.

“I also welcome the fifty-seven sons-and-daughters-in-law who are in attendance tonight. Believe me when I tell you that you are exactly as precious to me as you are to your respective spouses.

“I further extend a hearty welcome to the guests of the Ranzz family, especially Pol and his clan. I do wish that Rokk and Lydda could have attended, but I am sure they must be having some very exciting adventure somewhere, either in the past or the future.

“I hope that you are all enjoying a taste of the champagne. These are the first bottles produced under the Lightning Ring Ranch label, and will soon be available, in very limited quantities, throughout the Galaxy. I cannot believe it took us nearly a century before beginning a grape arbor. Thank you, Salu, for the suggestion.

“You must suspect that there is an ulterior motive for this festive gathering, and you are correct.

“I will get quickly to the point. Yesterday morning, I skipped my daily dose of Rejuvium, and I do not intend to take more. I expect that by tomorrow afternoon, at the very latest, I will be joining Imra in whatever Heaven she has prepared for us. According to the terms of my will, Graym and Ivy will be receiving the whole of my controlling interest in Lightning Ring Ranch, Ltd. The remainder of my heirs will receive, at minimum, one million credits apiece, and I have specified a small number of treasured possessions to be bequeathed to a few of you. You probably already know who you are. Those of you here tonight with mortgages payable to the family bank, whether family or not, will have those mortgages forgiven on your primary residence.

“I have asked that my remains be interred, neither kept nor scattered, on the Ranch at a place I have chosen, and not on that forsaken Shanghalla Asteroid. My dear Imra’s ashes are in a memorial urn by my bedside. They should be interred with me as well.

*cough*

“This last will and testament has been drawn up by a Bismollian attorney, in conformity with universal U.P. standards. Believe me when I say it is ironclad. I am certain that a few of you will still attempt to contest it. I wish to discourage you in this endeavor. I do not hold out much hope for your success.

(At this point, he spares a glance for Dorritt and her husband.)

“And now, I am going to retire these old bones to bed. Enjoy yourselves for as long as you like this morning. I am sure at least some of you will be staying for breakfast. If I am still here at sunrise, I would not say no if you sent in one of the Probes with a plover’s-egg omelet and a small glass of fresh-squeezed blood-orange juice. I do not expect that you shall have to worry about luncheon.

“Good-night, and a Happy New Year to you all.”

(And now a small bolt of electricity flashes from the old man’s finger, lighting the antique chandelier hanging above the crowd. His hoverchair floats gently back through the open door. As it turns out, no one needs to send up breakfast.)

Very nice character piece Klar. Particularly enjoyed how Garth read perfectly in character as the Patriarch. 111 descendants? Wow those Winathians are fertile! The throwaway line about Rokk and Lydda being either in the future or past was cute - there's other stories waiting to be told! The side glance to Dorritt said volumes, the family may be there but they don't have to agree with each other - just like most family gatherings I imagine. A very poignant and, strangely, uplifting tale, thanks for sharing.

So now I have to ask, when are you going to write more for us?.

That was certainly a very interesting scene! More, more, more!

Rokk and Lydda did manage to attend the funeral. In fact, due to an error in the temporal scheduler, several of them attended the funeral.

Scene 1:
Rokk: I think we’ve been here before.
Lydda: I know we have. Look—there we are over there.

Scene 2:
Lydda: Wait- I think we’ve been here before.
Rokk: Oh, no. Not again. I suppose it would be rude of us to leave?

Scene 3:
Lydda: Wait- oh, no. This is just wrong. We should go.
Rokk: No, let’s stay for the wake. I could use another taste of that Lightning Ring champagne. That first batch was a pretty good year, and it’s the devil to find anywhere else.
Lydda: ROKK!

Scene 4:
Rokk (as the Time Trapper, at the wake): Ah, just one last small glass of that champage for old time’s sake. Lydda need never know.

I work in a world which is an extension of 5YL, before the temporal anomalies start destroying everything.

The Batch SW6 Legion eventually morphs into something like the Reboot Legion: XS, Kinetix, Monstress, Thunder, Shikari, Gear, and the Kon-El Superboy all eventually join.

LSV version 3 includes Garridan, Graym, Dorrit, and Dacey Ranzz, Pol Krinn II, Ivy, and Lauren Gand. Rokk is destined to become the Time Trapper, etc.

I have an outline of an epic which involves the 33rd century Legion, when much of early Legion history has moved into near-myth, in spite of the fact that there are still a half-dozen Legionnaires still alive. The problem is I need to slowly introduce a whole plethora of new characters, and I am trying to figure out a good “hook” to get people interested.

111 descendants in 125 years is not too many. Garth and Imra had 4 children; if they each had 4 children, that would be 16 grandchildren. If each grandchild had four children, that would be 64 great-grandchildren, for a total of 84 descendants. And we are now something like two generations beyond that.