Kid Marvel and Spellbinder battled back against the Ggrrggians who were blasting away at them, knocking them backwards by the dozens. In an instant, the ground erupted as Princess Tarina unleashed her power from below, destroying the street and knocking debris everywhere.
As Kid Marvel fell backwards, he looked up at the sky, and it was then that he saw with his super-vision the Mind-Flayer armada descending down upon Ggrrgg. “Big trouble Crujectra!” he screamed telepathically. “Ggrrgg looks like its being invaded! We really picked the wrong time…”
“Invaded? But…by who…?” she said, and instantly hooked them all up ‘online’ so their thoughts could be heard by all. Caliente let loose her fire as she joined the fray, and Fat Cramer, in half-cat/half-human form, kicked a soldiers across the face. Cobalt Kid flew up to the sky, joining Spellbinder, ripping away a cadre of soldiers. Far off, he could see Tarina blasting away at buildings, apparently attempting to destroy Ggrrgg by herself.
Far off, Outdoor Miner emerged from the other side of his port, with Vee and the P.O.W’s shrunken down on his shoulder blade, and immediately found an escape cruiser. He ported himself over to it, and using his LMB-lockpit space-kit, he was able to quickly rig it so the cruiser was set to go. As it went on, the cruiser’s locking system immediately told him what to expect in orbit. “The Ggrrggian controls,” he thought, “they’re rigged to detect Mind-Flayers ships apparently…I guess this is a Mind-Flayer invasion of Ggrrgg…”
Ten minutes became thirty as chaos ensued, and the LMBers continued to battle the Ggrrggians, but now also the invading Mind-Flayers, who were attacking. “We need to get the hell off planet,” said Caliente. “Its no use being caught in a war were each side is the bad guy,” she added.
“I think you’re right,” said Kid Marvel. “We might have to—“ instantly his eyes caught a glimpse of what was coming, as it entered Ggrrgg’s atmosphere. Instantly, he knew it was something terrible, and knew what it probably meant.
This was the 31st Century after all…and the use of bombs only meant one thing by this time.
BOOOOOOOM!
In a matter of seconds, the bomb ravaged all of Ggrrgg, and sparks could be seen across the sky. But this was not an explosive bomb—it was something far more terrible. The biological agent created by the Dominators was released into the atmosphere and immediately spread as if it were expanding outwards with no way to slow it down or stop it. Plants began to wither and die, and animals fell to the ground sick, and choking, their skin burning.
Men, women, children. All of Ggrrgg. All of Ggrrgg’s slaves. All of them fell to the ground, their skin burning, their eyes failing, their insides coming undone. All of Ggrrgg felt a death worse than any should ever have to bear.
[ March 14, 2007, 01:14 PM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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Kid Marvel’s reaction was perfectly timed so that before anyone knew what was happening, he had at least Caliente and Fat Cramer in his hands, and was up in the sky. When the ‘BOOM’ went off, it was deafeningly loud, and their eardrums kept ringing even after they were in empty, soundless space, looking down below at the red, misty covering on the atmosphere.
Outdoor Miner was able to make it out well before, and was on his omni-com with Rockhopper Lad when both began to get word of what happened. Both were shocked, both were horrified.
Down below, the BOOM could be heard all around, and Spellbinder felt a wave of panic and fear so great, so intense, that she knew something was coming. It was those at the epi-center of the explosion, and their despair reached her before the biological agent did. She immediately put up a telekinetic barrier around herself, as strong as she’d ever done, to keep any particles from hitting her skin. And without thinking, on pure instinct, she found Cobalt Kid, and did the same. He had been burnt briefly by the agent, and his forearms were bleeding awfully, melting down to the bone. He began to cough and to choke, but he focused on his healing power, and pushed it outwards, and began to heal himself, in tremendous pain. She picked him up and they looked around. And all around them, Ggrrgg was dying, and in that bunch of seconds, they were already too late.
They walked through the destruction and the dead and dying, and tried to heal them, and to telekinetically include them in their bubble, but it was too late. All were dead already—some just hadn’t finished yet. The horror was too much and neither said a word.
Finally, they came to a familiar figure. Princess Tarina sobbed loudly, as loud as could be, the death too much for her to handle, the pain still too raw from her own planet. Finally Spellbinder sat next to her and held her.
“Shhh, Tarina…its over. Its over…all of it,” she whispered in despair. “Cobie?” she said finally, looking up.
But he had already seen one more familiar figure.
“Father?” asked Cobalt Kid, walking forward to see his dying father before him, his skin burnt away and the last remnants of life in his eyes. Cobalt fell to his knees and a panic overtook him. An overwhelming wave of nausea and pain. He put his arms around his dying father, who he hated, and who hated him, and didn’t know why he was acting this way.
His father looked up at him. “Ggrrgg…Ggrrgg…” he spoke, his words soft and low. “Its gone…all of it gone…it was so glorious…” He whispered looking around.
Cobalt held him tight and remembered the whole of their relationship. He loved his father and hated him. He had lost the ability to cry long ago, after cracking at the torture inflicted on him. One might think it wasn’t Dr. Hoffman to blame, but his father. But now Cobalt felt the hot wave of emotion hitting his face, and knew a large portion of his life was over before he could ever do anything to fix it. It would always be too late now. But even now he held back his tears, and looked down. “Father…” he said. “…I’m sorry…”
His father looked at him, his face horrifying to behold. “Goodbye son,” he whispered. “I will see your mother now.” And with that he died.
And Cobalt clutched him for a long time, and for the first time in his life, he prayed.
END CHAPTER FIVE
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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The Triangle of Death, United Planets Admiral’s Fleet
“The United Planets is in a state of shock,” said Admiral Cornwallis to all those present. “We all are. Two entire planets completely destroyed…mass death on a scale we hoped we’d never see again. I swear…I don’t know what to think…” The Admiral put his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose and then curled his long moustache. “How are your fellow LMBers?” he asked Rockhopper Lad.
“Not good,” replied Rockhopper Lad. “They’re all having a very hard time dealing with it. As well they should…” he added, himself horrified.
“The Mind-Flayers will have to be dealt with,” said Abin Quank, who was also present in the room. He had joined Rockhopper Lad there. “That is a guarantee.”
“Yes, definitely,” said the Admiral and the officers agreed. “But what about the Khanate of Sol Invictus? Should we invade? Do we have the authority? They never actually attacked us. By damn, you can believe I want to head in there!” he said yelling.
“I don’t think we can,” said Rockhopper. “That’s up to the UP General Council to decide, not us. This may be an act of war, it may not be. But something has to be done…”
“Sir, we’re receiving word,” said a lower-ranking officer. “Its Elagabolus’ army. Its moving out of United Planet’s space. Its returning the Khanate of Sol Invictus.”
“Those bastards,” said Cornwallis, though Rockhopper Lad and Abin Quank felt the same.
All along the ship, the LMB felt the dread and depression that follows what they just witnessed. But far more than that, they felt the anger and the rage. The thirst for vengeance.
All except one. Cobalt Kid sat alone now, looking into deep space at generally nothing. He said little since returning and showed virtually no emotion at all. He seemed melancholy but those who knew him knew that could not be. Finally Spellbinder approached him and sat next to him. He looked at her in the eyes, but said nothing, not even telepathically.
She put her arms around her neck and put her head on his shoulder and hugged him. At once, he hugged her back too, feeling guilty for not checking to see if she was okay, given what she witnessed too. And the two hugged in silence and tried to quietly make it right.
“I’ll tell you what I want to do,” said Caliente to Kid Marvel, as Vee raised his eyebrow and Outdoor Miner turned around. “I want us to invade the Khanate of Sol Invictus. Us. The LMB. We have the firepower. Something has to be done, and I think we should do it!”
“Hold on my fiery friend,” said Vee, trying to calm her. “And accomplish what though?”
“Something. Anything…” she said. “If we had Reboot, LardLad, a few of the other real powerful LMBers…”
“But we don’t,” said Vee. “It would take weeks for a lot of them to get here. And even if we did, what then? I think Caracalla and the Khanate should get their comeuppance too. But how? What could we accomplish…?”
Kid Marvel turned away now, looking back to where he was looking before. He seemed drawn to that spot. Outdoor Miner walked over. “What is it?” he asked. “What are you looking at?”
With his telescopic vision, Kid Marvel stared strait ahead, but then two floors down. There, in a private quarters, Princess Tarina of Kerissia was sitting alone in her room, staring at the walls, in complete shock. She had barely moved since she was brought in. “A catalyst,” replied Kid Marvel.
[ April 07, 2009, 02:36 PM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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The small Ggrrggian cruiser flew at top speed through the Asteroid Belt, as it became harder and harder to navigate in the tight confines.
“That’s some good flying Stealth,” said Eryk. “I didn’t realize you were one our premier pilots.”
“Well, I’m pretty aware of your record for crashing these things, so lets just say that whenever the two of us team-up, I’ll be the one doing the flying.” All three laughed at that, including Marcus.
Marcus seemed less tense in the last two days as they tracked the Trumpeter, as if he was ready to make up for his earlier mistakes and try and fit in and do something right. “Up ahead,” he said. “I thought I caught a glimpse of metal behind that conclave.”
“Jeepers!” said Eryk, “I think you might be right!”. Suddenly an asteroid moved out the way, and a figure stood before them: covered in metal armor from head to toe, with large red gloves, stood a lone female figure, who had been described to them before. Middlefinger VIII. “Move!” he yelled, as Middlefinger unleashed a blast of power from her middle fingers that ripped across the bottom of the small cruiser despite Stealth’s evasive maneuvers. The ship rocked sideways, crashing into another asteroid. Middlefinger again attacked, this time unleashing dark matter photons at her.
“Its time to see what this girl’s got,” said Stealth, hopping out of the destroyed cruiser. “Or is she just some floozy that the Trumpeter stuck in some hopped up armor that wanted to use the Middlefinger name?” she added, blasting back.
“Why in space would anyone want to use the Middlefinger name?” said Marcus, leaping out, and unleashing a spear at Middlefinger’s torso, which knocked her backwards and to one knee.
“I thought of the same thing, dear boy,” said a voice, adding, “but then again, I should ask myself something of the same.” Salad-Tosser Lord was instantly upon him, putting a cloth of space-chloroform on the young soldier’s mouth, hoping to subdue him. “But you’re little group is starting to be a nuisance.”
“Jeepers STL,” said Eryk, purposely abbreviating the villains name, “but you really *should* change your name! We’re in like a new modern era and stuff!” Eryk’s luck lord instantly caused the mad scientist to trip forward, as Eryk turned to join Stealth against Middlefinger.
Middlefinger unleashed another burst of power, this one a form of star energy that was more blinding than anything. “Joke all you want, LMB,” she said finally, “but you’ll all be taken down a peg or two soon enough.” Suddenly, she took both gloves and pointed them at the asteroid they were standing on and blasted it, shattering it immediately, and causing them to fall into space as it fell apart. Grabbing Salad-Tosser Lord, she gave a laugh. “Until the next time!”
“Hey, I think Middlefinger VIII is finally getting into this!” said Eryk.
“Hey, you think maybe you could help me out?” said an annoyed Stealth, who was floating into space.
Farther up… Unknown to them, the Trumpeter stood at the entrance to where the coordinates had led him. “At last,” he said with a smile. And with a burst, he blew his trumpet, and shattered the secret entrance to the Secret Library at the Xiandria Asteroid Belt.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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“We’re devastated,” said Ambassador Relnic. “All of us. The magnitude of it…its just so awful.” The master politician had the entire media hanging on his every word, and had been talking for some time. But he meant what he said now, and truly was devastated at the death and destruction caused by the horrors on Ggrrgg and Kerissia. “It’s a terrible tragedy that such genocide and death can still occur in what many refer to as this ‘modern age’. Though we have made many breakthroughs in sciences and humanities, we still revert back to our most barbaric selves. I hope that out of this horrible tragedy, a stronger awareness of the political and cultural conflicts in this universe arises.”
Bevruck Jespers, famed Ggrrggian actor, now spoke. He looked horrible, as if the wind had been knocked out of him, but oddly enough, he still looked staggeringly handsome. His movie star tendencies must have gained that strong a foothold, though Faraway Lad, that he would look as he did. “I…I’m at a loss for words, I’m afraid,” he said, clutching the podium. “I look at my colleague,” he continued, looking at Antequated Forms of Communication Lass, who sobbed in Quislet, Esq’s arms, “and I think that we are two of the surviving members of our entire race. How can we continue? I don’t know…I just don’t know…”
“Faraway Lad,” asked a reporter, “what is the status of the ambassadors?” referring to the Ggrrggian, Wynthian and Kerissian ambassadors still on Weber’s World.
“Obviously,” said Faraway Lad in a soothing voice, “they fear for their lives with good reason. They are under the protection of the LMB, and will stay that way. No harm shall come to them in these trying times, as the universe once more is forced to reckon with the horrible events that have occurred.” Faraway Lad now answered questions, giving Ambassador Relnic a breather, and showed a particular proficiency for directing the horror away from the last Ggrrggians, who had tried so hard for peace.
Matlock watched on from the shadows. “No…this won’t do at all,” he thought. Given recent events, the mole in Weber’s World would likely slip away now and was probably no longer needed. He would have to work fast. He turned to a guard, talking aloud. “Who stands to gain from this?” he said.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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posted
The Secret Library at the Xiandra Asteroid Belt
“Imagine,” said the Trumpeter with a grin, “that this incredible vessel of knowledge was so close to all three of the planets, but they were so locked up in their wars, that they never bothered to come here and look for it.” He walked through the enormous library made of meteor stones, functioning with some sort of oxygen filter that allowed sentients to breath in space when inside the library—Kerissian technology no doubt. “But as any student of history will tell you, such is always the way. All you have to do is search and apply your mind, and you can find things long forgotten that can be very advantageous to you,” he continued, picking up an old manuscript.
Déjà Vu walked close to him, looking at all of the various books and indexes. They were quite numerous, the majority of them relating to Ggrrgg, Kerissia and Wynthia, and one fourth topic: the Psionic Spear. “Then you’ve come here for the spear?” she said finally. “Its here?”
“Oh yes,” said the Trumpeter. “Its here.” He played a soft rhythm on his trumpet, as if some secret note was being played, and he could here some movement further down, many shelves and turns away. “Ah…” he said.
Déjà Vu remembered now when Salad-Tosser Lord and the Trumpeter recruited here, weeks before all of this began. They had already ‘created’ the new Middlefinger, and needed her expertise. Her reputation as an intergalactic terrorist preceded her. She was to gather intel on the ‘Psionic Spear’, the legendary weapon that had put three neighboring planets at an endless war and which had the power to cause great devastation to the universe. So she gathered it, first at various scholastic places, then at Weber’s World, Kerissia and Ggrrgg, all under the guise of terrorism. But she knew there was far more to the Trumpeter’s plan than that.
“It appears that once Caracalla and I were aware of each other, we both made inquiries about meeting up. To trade information at the least. We both have the same enemies after all…” he continued, obviously pleased with what was happening. “He approached me about finding the Psionic Spear, and retrieving it for him for his future war against the United Planets that will undoubtedly occur, especially because his immediate interests lay in the region where it originated. Immediately, I planned on taking it for myself, until I became aware of something far stronger than that.”
Déjà Vu’s interest was peaked. She followed him more closely now, listening to his every word.
“You know its history: the Psionic Spear was created by the Kerissians and drew upon the Psionic power of the Mind-Flayers. It was given to the Ggrrggians to defend all three against outside forces. Except…it became apparent that using the spear would drain the power out of the Mind-Flayers to the point where they would lose their psionic senses, and then after that, almost certainly, their lives. It transferred the sentient Psionic energy, most especially telepathy and telekinesis to the spear, which could harness with massive results. The Mind-Flayers retrieved the weapon—and then the Ggrrggians stole it back, kicking off the long war.”
Now the Trumpeter walked around a corner, and saw the bookshelf that had moved. There was a small staircase that led deeper into the large asteroid, and he went down it. Déjà Vu followed. “At some point, in those early years, about eight decades ago, the spear was lost…in other words, some brave soul decided it was the cause of all this war—back when people actually regretted the blood shed—and hid it here on this asteroid’s secret library. Most knowledge of the spear was destroyed, except for what could be passed down orally.” He came to an open room, with no furniture or books. It had marble walls, ceilings and floors, and there were a series of jars to the side.
Déjà Vu looked through the jars. “Nothing but scrolls…” she said.
“Undoubtedly secrets of the highest esteem. Most likely many relating to the spears, but I would not doubt some other important secrets. I would take as many as I could carry if I were you,” he added, and she knew full well that was an order.
“Spears?” she asked, however, caught up in his wording. “As in plural?”
“Yes,” he said, “as I’m sure you’ve seen in the information you’ve retrieved for us,” he added, knowing full well she knew there was more than one spear. “The secret history is that there were three spears of power, though there are available descriptions of the other two—simply that they are called the Spear of Day, given to the Kerissians, who made daily life brighter and easier, and the Spear of Night, given to the Ggrrggians, who defended them all at night. It is said that only one spear could destroy another, which indeed is why the Psionic Spear was hid and not destroyed. What they are, what they do, what they look like and what happened to them have been lost. I highly doubt the other two are actual spears…” he continued.
“And I highly doubt you intend to stop at the Psionic Spear,” she said.
He was quiet now, looking at the floor. “There,” he said, pointing towards the upper middle of the room. “Look at the floor,” he continued. The floor looked normal, although a closer inspection showed that the marble had been laid out in panels, in an odd sort of arrangement. “You can see the lines on the marble, which is odd indeed.”
“Is there the shape of a spear? Up the middle?”
“No…,” he said, “…because the Ggrrggians did not always fight in the style they do now. At first, they used a spear and a shield. Since then, their technology has changed so that their clothing is shielded by other means, so they can discard the use of their ancient protection. However, should this layout be in the shape of a spear and and shield…” he paused, then pulled out his trumpet. With a fury, he let out a blast louder than any other Déjà Vu had heard so far, and ripped back the marble were the Trumpeter thought the spear was.
The Trumpeter was right. Below him, in the marble, was a tomb, and in it, was the Psionic Spear.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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posted
The Secret Library at the Xiandra Asteroid Belt “At last…” he smiled, leaping down, and picking it up. It was a wooden spear, painted red, with an ancient bronze tip. Truly, this was a spear of old. It was heavier than it looked, and longer, but the touch of it caused a wave of lightheadedness and nausea. As it subsided, the Trumpeter stood up, and understood that even by just holding it, one could feel a change in the senses. An awareness telepathically, and a closer feeling to the object around him telekinetically. He climbed back up.
Déjà Vu turned to him. “The others are coming back.” The Trumpeter and Déjà Vu reentered the upper library floor to see Middlefinger and Salad-Tosser Lord returning.
“So you’ve found it,” said STL.
“Indeed,” said the Trumpeter. “And now its time for our own agenda to begin,” he said with a grin.
“Our own agenda?” asked Déjà Vu, confident in the fact that her questions would be answered now more than any other time while the Trumpeter basked in his own glory.
“Yes,” he replied. “The Psionic Spear is immensely powerful. But it is too well known and the price paid for using it will create too many enemies we don’t need aware of our plans. But with it…I can find the spear that we are truly after—the Spear of Night.”
Salad-Tosser Lord put his hand on Déjà Vu’s arm. “Between the two of us, my dear, we’ve cracked the code of exactly what the Spear of Night is, and what it can do, and that is the spear we will need.”
“And now to begin…” he said, clutching the Psionic Spear with both hands.”
The Trumpeter closed his eyes and concentrated, and focused his will upon the spear. At once, he became aware of his heightened senses, as the full psionic awakening occurred within him. He pushed the spear with his will, pulling the psionic energy into him. The spear responded by offering what it had—but it did not have enough.
And so it reached across space to the nearest psionic well of energy, and pulled psionic out of Wynthia, home of the Mind-Flayers. There on Wynthia, the Mind-Flayers had returned from their destruction of Ggrrgg, content to be at peace finally after all these years. But the effect of the Trumpeter’s will was felt immediately. The spear began to train their psionic power without hesitation, and they could offer no defense against the weapon created to do just that. Their senses flickered and faded, like a lightbulb about to go out, and they felt at once their telepathic senses fading away, and were blinded and deaf, unable to communicate or see. Next their telekinetic abilities could be felt slipping, and the gravity of their planet began to crush them—for it was those abilities that allowed them to live on such a barren planetoid.
The Trumpeter pulled with great energy, and laughed out loud with a cackle—feasting on the psionic power as if it were a chalice of the sweetest nector in the galaxy! The psionic energy ripped forth across space, so that a sparkling orange glow could be seen reaching into the asteroids, and the force of it knocked back the other villains, who watched on in amazement. At last, it began to pour in so greatly, that the secret library exploded, and ripped further into the asteroid so that it blew apart completely, scatting debris everywhere!
The Trumpeter telekinetically held his three allies by his side, now in full control of the spear, and continued to drain the Mind-Flayers across space. He grinned now, knowing what must come next.
TELEPATHY—pure, raw, harsh and vicious. Across the entire universe, the Trumpeter read the minds of every sentient he could penetrate, downloading as much information as humanly possible. Any normal sentient, or even abnormal, would be driven mad by the process, but the Trumpeter was not normal or even slightly abnormal—he was one of the greatest minds in all of the multiverse. And with this information he analyzed, he calculated and he discovered, and he knew, in his heart, exactly where in all of the universe the Spear of Night would be.
The power he used to achieve such an end was devastating, and at once, the Mind-Flayers began to drop and to die, the drain simply too much for the weaker ones to handle.
But still, the Trumpeter was not done. He pulled forth all of the asteroids in the asteroid belt and held them together like some gigantic hand clutching an cluster of missiles and ripped them across space, sending them out in a direct line towards a small moon across this sector. Asteroid debris ravaged all in its path, and was dumped to the sides, falling at unbelievable speed, heading across space where it would inevitably cause a great more destruction.
The Trumpeter followed across space at great telekinetic speed, with his allies in toe, following the rain of asteroids as they gained moment with each and every push, as the Trumpeter pulled the rest of the energy out of the Mind-Flayers. At last it began to land on a moon, hitting its orbit and finding that it had its own small atmosphere, causing the asteroids to overheat and explode upon impact, falling down as if from the heavens onto a mountain on the moon.
The explosion was massive at first, and Déjà Vu was sure the entire moon would explode, but her powers told her no, it would not. It would hold, but the mountain would fall, and the rubble would clear a way, so that only one small fortress embedded in the mountain would be revealed. And so they arrived, and the fortress was there, and the Trumpeter flew in, and ripped it apart. And at once he found what he was looking for, though a spear it was not. In his hands was a large, black horn, and the Trumpeter, drunk on power, laughed hysterically at the irony before him.
The Spear of Night—a large black horn, that could unleash torrents of anti-matter energy through time, space and reality. It could unleash darkness and disaster, and it could decay and revert. It could undo.
And on Wynthia, the last of the Mind-Flayers called out in pain, knowing full well he was the last of his people, their power now all but gone. He closed his eyes, his senses cut off from the rest of the world, and died. The Trumpeter, in a matter of minutes, finished off the Mind-Flayers, and they were dead.
Caracalla, on the journey back to the Khanate of Sol Invictus smiled. Of course the Trumpeter would betray him. Of course he would use the Psionic Spear. That is what he wanted. After all, what use if the Psionic Spear when he already had Elagabolus? No…it was the Trumpeter he wanted to use it, to eliminate and kill the Mind-Flayers. In one week, Ggrrgg, Kerissia and Wynthia were all gone, and a large piercing sector of the universe was vacant, the perfect ‘spear’ into the United Planets side, should an invasion from the Khanate of Sol Invictus occur.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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Middlefinger looked at Déjà Vu, and both were relieved to see that they were not the only one feeling uncomfortable by this sudden display of madness. They remained quiet.
The Trumpeter held the Psionic Spear, and the Spear of Night, which all could see was far more than that—an Anti-Matter Horn, a Spear of Undoing. His laughter had subsided and he had a wicked grin on his face, his eyes glowing red and his eyebrows creased in both elation…and rage.
Salad-Tosser Lord had a sudden look of concern. “The Mind-Flayers? Did you use their power, then? Are they still alive?” he asked, attempting to hide the fact that he did not wish to be an accomplice to genocide.
“No,” replied the Trumpeter, “and forget any feelings of guilt you have, friend. We have accomplished our goal for this phase of our plans, and now have two spears. The Mind-Flayers can burn in whatever hell they believed in.”
“It’ll be you that burns in hell, you monster!” said a voice, as suddenly, Stealth leapt into the fray, kicking the Trumpeter across the chin, her power hiding their presence!
It had been sheer luck—as it usually was with Eryk. Eryk Davis Ester, Stealth and Marcus had followed them to the Ancient Library, only to get there just in time for the Trumpeter to begin using the spear, and then hurling the entire asteroid belt into the moon. They would have died no doubt, even if any of the mightiest LMBers were among them…but they had Eryk’s Luck Lord, and with the utterance of ‘jeepers’, they were able to be teleported out of the asteroid belt turned weapon right before it entered the moon’s orbit, and thus had managed to survive. Quickly, they followed the villains, unsure of what had occurred, but with some idea of it—only to learn moments earlier, what the Trumpeter had truly done.
“How can you all stand by this monster?” said Eryk, leaping on the back of Middlefinger and taking her to the ground. “He’s a mass murderer—you just saw what he did!”
Marcus ran at them and hurled his own standard UP spear at Salad-Tosser Lord, its electronic blast knocking him backwards.
“Fools!” laughed the Trumpeter, “you had little chance before of beating all four of us, but now you have precisely none!” he added, ripping forth a telekinetic blast with the power still left in the spear from the Mind-Flayers. It ripped across the moon and knocked down all in front of the Trumpeter: Stealth, Eryk, Middlefinger, Salad-Tosser Lord and Déjà Vu! Now he put the Spear of Night towards his lips. “And now you’ll pay the ultimate price—as I rip you apart and undo your very existence, reverting you to the molecules holding you together!” He put his lips towards the horn and began to hum softly, and at once a blackness began to grow misty around the horn.
Panic overtook Eryk and Stealth. They had no idea what to expect. And they would not get the chance to find out…
SLASH!!
The sharp blade finished slashing across the Trumpeter’s back and he fell forward, to the surprise of both the villains and the two LMBers. The Trumpeter clutched the Spear of Night, which was his true prize, though the Psionic Spear came loose. Behind him stood Marcus, the soldier that had become a close ally and friend of the LMB during these last few weeks. He looked calm and confident, pushing the Trumpeter forward coldly, and then, to the surprise of everyone again, reaching out and grabbing the Psionic Spear.
The reaction around him was immediate, and all rose to their feet, and scattered a little, prepared to resume battle—but none took their eyes off Marcus. He looked different however. Cold, calculating. Angry, furious. His eyes immediately went back to how he looked when he first saw Caracalla on Ggrrgg.
“Marcus,” said Eryk now carefully, “you’ve got the spear. Back away from the Trumpeter! We just need to get the horn, and we’ll be okay…”
“He’s going to use it!” screamed Déjà Vu suddenly, ducking off to the side. “He’s going to unleash the Spear again!” she said, and all knew it was her power kicking in, not some hysterical accusation.
Salad-Tosser Lord immediately followed her, as Stealth turned to what she thought was a new friend. “Marcus, don’t!” she said. “Don’t use it! Remember what it does—it could kill psionics. Remember the Mind-Flayers, Marcus,” she said softer.
Eryk turned to see Middlefinger picking up the Trumpeter, who wasn’t as badly hurt as it first seemed, but was now clutching the Spear of Night. He looked furious, but that began to fade and Eryk could tell he was calculating in his head. “Stop right there, Trumpeter!” he said, moving towards him.
“Let him keep the spear…” said the Trumpeter, “…its effect is maddening anyway…too out of control. We have what we came for. Middlefinger, keep him away…”
Middlefinger fired at Eryk with her blasts, and he dodged them.
“Marcus?” said Stealth, now seeing the cold eyes of Marcus focus on her as if he noticed her for the first time.
The power of the Spear was immediate, and it still maintained a great deal of power from the Mind-Flayers, which the Trumpeter had sucked into the spear. It was invigorating, exhilarating. He felt the ease of the telekinesis giving his blood extra fire, and the telepathy allowed him to see the universe in a different light. “Stealth,” he said, “I have it. I have the Psionic Spear.”
“I know Marcus, you did good. But we need to stop the bad guys here before they get away.”
“Let them,” said Marcus calmly. “We’ve been wasting our time with them for too long now, when the real villain is getting away. Caracalla. The Khanate of Sol Invictus.”
“Marcus, you’ve moved past that. You know what’s at stake here.”
“Stealth,” he said quietly, suddenly using the spear to pin her back against a large rock. “I was faking.” She looked shocked. “I’m going after them…all of them. The Barbarian Hordes will pay for what they’ve done. Caracalla and the rest of the Khanate will pay!” Suddenly, power erupted around him in a fury, as a telekinetic backlash knocked the entire moon off by a fraction of a decimal point, knocking them all to their feet.
Marcus, solider of the United Planets, telekinetically flew across the blackness of space, leaving his friends and enemies behind, traveling at a speed unquantifiable, using the psionic energy of the spear. His destination: the Khanate of Sol Invictus.
“Time to make our exit,” said Salad-Tosser Lord, grabbing a device and grabbing hold of Déjà Vu. The two were joined by Middlefinger and the Trumpeter, who was holding the spear of night. “Good bye LMB,” he finished, and he pushed the device, which began to teleport them back to their ship.
“Dammit!” said Stealth, running towards Eryk. “I think we better get going too…” she said, when suddenly the full telekinetic backlash of Marcus’ trajectory came crashing down on the moon’s gravity, and rocked it one more time. This third, horrible telekinetic crash was too much this time. The moon began to collapse.
Far off now, Marcus flew with the Psionic Spear, his rage more full than ever before. To the Khanate of Sol Invictus and Caracalla he flew to, and to revenge.
[ March 14, 2007, 01:09 PM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
Deep Space – Former Moon orbiting Ggrrgg and Asteroid Debris “Aaargh!” said Abin Quank loudly, as he used all his willpower to deflect yet another cadre of debris from shattered asteroids and one very large shattered moon. “Aaargh…!” he continued, as his ring created a giant series of walls, acting as a grid to filter out all of the debris to a more static area. “…got it!” he finished.
All around him, gravity was in a flux, as an entire mass such as a moon had been destroyed by an ever larger mass, what was once an asteroid belt. Now Abin attempted to meld the two into a larger asteroid belt to restore some semblance of gravity, so the Science Police could enter the area and use their own gravitational regulators.
“Yet another catastrophe,” said Rockhopper Lad, who was with him, “luckily this one did not cost any lives that we know of,” he said, using his new found super-breath to freeze small chunks of debris into a solid, frozen asteroid form, then adding, “…yet”, knowing full well the consequences of such actions were too astronomic to figure still.
Hours earlier, Rockhopper Lad answered the call of the Science Police to investigate this area, given how close he was on the Admiral’s Fleet, and he took Abin with him, hoping to give all the LMBers who had seen the horrors on Ggrrgg some additional time to rest. Kid Marvel appeared to be fine, but Rockhopper Lad knew that he had seen some very real horror. Besides, he and Abin needed to get out and do something, instead of being cooped up on that ship. Reports were coming in regarding the Mind-Flayers, but all seemed to vague to make any sense.
“Up ahead,” said Abin, flying by Rockhopper Lad, so that he joined him. “That cluster there seems oddly shaped.”
“Yes, I see it,” said Rockhopper Lad, as he joined his ally. “Like a ringlet. Odd that such a shape could be made naturally.”
“I don’t think there’s anything natural about it…” said Abin, then talking into his ring “Ring. Analyze for life-forms.”
Analyzing… Analyzing… 85% complete… Finished…two life-forms within, both alive, both unharmed. Known to this unit. LMBer CODENAME: Eryk Davis Ester. LMBer CODENAME: Stealth.
“Well I’ll be,” said Rockhopper Lad, flying into the middle of the larger ringlet asteroid, to see the two LMBers huddled together, both too exhausted to move. “We’ve been worried sick!” he said, smiling, but very concerned still. He quickly picked them both up, as Abin flew over, making two green beds with his Green Latnern’s ring.
“Get in, guys,” he said. “How do you feel? What happened?”
“Long story…” said Stealth, “…but thank the luck of this guy right here…” she smiled. She’d been with Eryk for a few weeks now on this mission, and that kind of camaraderie can’t be put into words. But it was evident that Eryk’s Luck Lord must have saved them.
“No time for rest,” said Eryk, drinking from Rockhopper Lad’s energy drink (which all LMBers carry). “Stealth and I will explain fast but we have no time. Marcus…going to Khanate of Sol Invictus….Psionic Spear…wants to kill Caracalla…”
The Borders of The United Planets and the Khanate of Sol Invictus The soldier known as Marcus flew faster than could be recorded, soaking up the power of the Psionic Spear and using its reserves to fly across space towards the Khanate of Sol Invictus. At last, he entered it, though he did not realize that a border had been crossed in empty space. As he moved forward, the reserves in the Spear began to be met, and at once, though he hardly realized he was doing it, he began to drain forth once more additional Psionic energy.
However, the Mind-Flayers of Wynthia were all deceased by this point. The Spear would have to search further away, further into UP space to find additional Psionics. And it did: it found Princess Crujectra of Psyonia…and then Psyonia itself.
END CHAPTER SIX
[ March 14, 2007, 01:14 PM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
“Go on,” said Kid Marvel, speaking to the large omni-com screen in front of him. “Eryk can confirm that he’s heading there?”
“He says its definite,” said Rockhopper Lad on the screen, speaking through a make-shift omni-com made from Abin’s ring. Rockhopper Lad was floating in space, with Abin, Eryk and Stealth behind him.
“It looks like we have a problem,” said Kid Marvel, turning to Admiral Cornwallis. Kid Marvel’s eyes, however, never seemed to move from the a point in the floor, diagonal from the room. He was looking at something.
“Agreed,” said the Admiral, who was flanked by the rest of the LMB present: Caliente, Outdoor Miner, Varalent, Fat Cramer, Cobalt Kid and Spellbinder. “As you know, the politics of it all is still being worked out, because the Triangle were no longer members of the UP. To enter the Khanate now would be an act of war on our side. Though I want to enter,” he said, “and I know you Triumvirs would march right on in with clearance Rao bless you,” he added quickly to Cobalt, “I cannot. As the highest ranking Admiral in the UP military, I have a responsibility not to.”
“We, however,” replied Varalent, “well, that might be another story.”
“Uuuuh,” said Spellbinder, sudden feeling tremendous pain. She bent forward, and reached her hands to her mind. “Aargh…what is…causes this…?” she said out loud.
“Crujeckie!” said Cobalt running towards her. Their telepathic link meant he too felt the pain, but she was obviously blocking it from him, so he would not feel it. It was overwhelming. He had his arms around her, and she stood again, though the pain had obviously not subsided.
“Something in my mind…body too…feel like I’m being stretched,” she said.
“I was deathly afraid of this,” said Eryk, joining Rockhopper Lad. “It’s the Psionic Spear, which Marcus is using. It drains the Psionic power of the races that have those powers. Drains them and kills them. This is what the Trumpeter did to the Mind-Flayers. I know its horribly blunt and in light of the recent horror, but the Mind-Flayers are assuredly all deceased. The Trumpeter killed them all using the Spear. The Spear must have used up all their power…and is now pulling the Psionic power away from other races—including the Psyonians.”
“B-but ERYK!” said Cobalt, “do we only have a matter of minutes?” he said, uncharacteristically losing his cool.
“No Cobie,” replied Eryk, “Marcus is not doing the extraordinary feats the Trumpeter was, he’s simply flying through space. But you can bet he’ll try that stuff later. Especially when he fights Caracalla—and Elagabolus,” he added, and they all knew full well how powerful Elagabolus was. “We don’t have a of time. All of Psyonia is in danger…” he said, knowing it pained him to say it. “Including Crujeckie and Crusader.”
Spellbinder stood strong and held Cobalt’s hand. “I won’t allow that to happen,” she said.
“Me either,” said Cobalt.
“None of us will,” said Kid Marvel to them. “Okay listen—“ suddenly he stopped.
“What is it Joey?” said Caliente.
“…she made her move…” he replied softly to himself.
Suddenly another omni-com went off, this time Admiral Wellesley’s. “Sir!” said a voice over it. “Its Princess Tarina sir! She’s left the ship! She’s taken off!”
All of the LMB rushed to the windows to see a streak of light heading out across space.
“I’d say it’s a safe bet where she’s going,” said Fat Cramer. “Marcus is not the only one invading the Khanate of Sol Invictus…”
[ July 20, 2007, 05:26 PM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
“Mr. Jespers, sir!” said a diplomat loudly so he could be heard. “An honor!” he said even louder.
“The honor is all mine, Ambassador,” replied the actor, and the woman on the ambassador’s arm could be heard telling her friend ‘he’s so classy…”
Bevruck Jespers moved down the hallways, glad to be leaving the party he was just attending. Weber’s World was hosting yet another diplomatic function, and could not cancel it on such short notice due to the events. He wasn’t sure what was worse—the diplomats too disgusted at there being a party in light of the recent tragedies, or the ones who tried to overcompensate for the melancholy by putting on more of a show than usual.
“Excuse me, sir, if you don’t mind…?” said a Science Police Officer approaching. “This is embarrassing…but can I have your holo-graph?” he finished.
“Of course Officer,” said the handsome leading man, “anything for you fine chaps,” he added, knowing it was an over the top response which was just the thing he was known for. Although sooner or later, he’d have to stop signing every holo-graph he was requested to—it was becoming a non-stop occupation! Ever since the destruction of Ggrrgg, and the sad speeches made by he and Antiquated Forms of Communication Lass, he was more famous than ever before. More importantly, he was more in demand than ever before. The tragedy seemed to lend an air that he had a tremendous amount of emotion bottled up inside him. There was something appealing and attractive about that, and now movie deals were coming in left and right. He had signed three in the last two days, and had five more pending. He was essentially becoming the biggest star in the universe.
He saw some more fans coming, and turned and ducked the other way. He couldn’t help but give a wry smile. “You old dog…” he said to himself, “…you’d never have done that in your early days, you gloryhound.” He laughed and ducked into a restroom.
He walked over to the sink and splashed some water on his face. He’d been on Weber’s World for quite awhile. It was time to leave, since the peace talks were irrelevant now. He bent down again to splash water on his face one last time, getting some in his eyes by accident. As he felt for a towel, he found one and dried his face. He suddenly got a chill up his spine and almost didn’t want to open his eyes. He remembered his early days as a B grade actor in horror movies and laughed at himself, half expecting someone to be there behind him as he opened his eyes.
There was not. Now he did laugh a little. Actually, now that he looked, he saw something in the corner. Something on the wall. Wait, he thought, was that something written on the wall? In black marker? What was this, the 23rd Century? He walked over to clean it and saw what it said:
”Who Benefits?”
He stopped cold for an instant. He looked long and hard and wondered what it meant. He almost thought…but no, there’d be no way.
“It’s the first question you’re supposed to ask,” said a voice, “and the one most easily overlooked.”
Bevruck Jespers turned, looking for a fight. He looked around the large bathroom, and saw a figure walking out of one of the stalls. He recognized him instantly: Matlock, Super Detective of the LMBP.
“You’re a star now Jespers,” said Matlock. “The universe not only loves you…now they sympathize you. That’s pretty good for a movie star.”
“You can’t be serious,” said Bevruck Jespers, growing angry. “How dare you accuse me! And you think I want their sympathy?” he said, moving forward.
Matlock smiled. “I know you want it,” he said, adding, “you’ve wanted it all your life. How can there be a leak, here at Weber’s World, when it’s the hardest place to leak information out of? One guess: its not a diplomat, soldier or staff member here. It’s a guest.”
Bevruck Jespers grew grim and his eyes narrowed.
“How did Kerissia, Ggrrgg and the Khanate of Sol Invictus—all three mind you—know about the LMB’s every move? Simple. The Khanate knew and leaked it to the others. The Khanate was ready for the LMB every step of the way. They were the ones with the inside man.”
“Now you’re ridiculous,” said Jespers. “My entire planet, my entire people, were laid to waste. They’re all dead! All of them! I have no home now!”
Matlock’s smile faded. “It was never your home, son. Ggrrgg is a warrior state, focused on conquering, honor and glory in battle. You’re an actor. Ggrrgg was not kind to you in your youth, I’d wager.”
Bevruck Jespers grew silent, though a look of pain came across his face.
“You wouldn’t be the first, I’m afraid. Many of Ggrrgg’s sons were not treated kindly. Though the one I know quite well was lucky enough to have parents in the upper classes. I’ve checked your records. You did not have such luck. I have no wish to make you relive it, Bevruck…but I know it must have been awful for you.”
Images of Bevruck’s Jesper’s childhood flashed before his mind. It was torture. Horrible beatings, embarrassments, humiliations, violations…such was life on Ggrrgg for those unlucky enough to be born in a lower class. His face suddenly looked contorted. His movie star looks faded and he looked hideous—his black hair fell crooked, and his eyes narrowed further. “Do not speak of it again!” he yelled. “Those bastards deserved what they got! They were horrible, horrible people who deserved to burn in Hades for all they did! And now they will! All three of those hideous races and their non-stop wars! Well, now they’re gone and now there is no more war! Problem solved,” he said at last, softer.
“Bevruck,” said Matlock, “what about all the other plebs? And the slaves…what about all the innocent slaves?” Matlock’s voice became soft and fatherly, and it had the desired effect.
Tears began to run down the movie star’s face. “I gave them mercy…” he said, “…I ended it for them. I ended all the horror for them…” He began to weep softly.
“You gave away state secrets to the Khanate of Sol Invictus, who has every intention of wiping us all out. You were indirectly responsible for the deaths of three entire people—mass genocide on a level too large to comprehend. No matter what happened to you, no matter what horror you faced…you have to own up to your crimes and pay the penalty for them. You have to face justice, son.” Matlock was calm, and spoke firmly, but not loudly.
Bevruck Jespers wept. And then suddenly—he was leaping towards Matlock, looking to kill the hero! After all, only he knew, right? Wrong.
CRACK!
Out of a second stall was Antiquated Forms of Communication Lass, prepared for this. In these last few moments she felt sympathy and sadness for the fellow Ggrrggian, but minutes before she felt nothing but anger. Her punch was direct and in true Ggrrggian style—it broke Bevruck Jesper’s nose upon impact, and his eyes began to water, and he fell to the ground. Her entire people, gone. Her entire planet, uninhabitable. Everyone she ever knew at home dead, except two. She was not the biggest fan of Ggrrgg, but she would never condone what had been done. The message on the bathroom wall was her idea—an antiquated way of communicating, of course.
“I’ve been waiting for that,” she said.
“I know,” said Matlock, “but we had to wait. He already had alerted Caracalla about Marcus, but the false information we fed him about the LMB standing down and not going to the Khanate went through. At least now Caracalla won’t know we’re coming.”
“You do good work,” said AFC Lass with a smile. As Matlock turned, however, another noise startled him.
BLAM!
Bevruck Jespers had concealed a small weapon in his suit pocket this entire time, just in case. And now he knew, his life was over. He would never be the star anymore and would only be hated. That was something he couldn’t live with.
“Oh Bevruck…” said AFC Lass.
Matlock sighed. “I hope the others have a more fulfilling end…”
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
The Khanate of Sol Invictus Caracalla sat upon the bench that all of the Holy Clerics sat, although none were allowed to sit level with him. Elagabolus’s thrown was in front of them, empty, as Caracalla had planned. Citizens of the Khanate of Carthac, mainly warriors and their families sat out across the rows and rows of benches within the cathedral, praying before Caracalla’s divine presence.
All had worked out as he had wished. A lifeless husk, shaped like a triangular tipped spear, now existed in the United Planets, on the border of the Khanate of Sol Invictus. When the time was right, it would be the entry way for Elagabolus and his armies. But the time was not right now and all that he hoped to accomplish was finished. He had little wish for the Psionic Spear, content in the notion that the Trumpeter would use it on the United Planets. But that an insignificant little brat would bring it to him—that was an opportunity he must capitalize on.
Caracalla sat upon the bench, praying. All had worked as he had wished.
Psyonia and Saturn All across the planet-side, those with Psionic powers felt the pull, and felt the pain. Something was draining them and causing them great pain, and would need to be stopped soon.
The Khanate of Sol Invictus At last, Marcus saw the planet that he intended to approach. There would be no way he should know what he was looking for, but he used the Psionic Spear to guide him. The feeling that the Spear gave him was unlike anything he’d ever felt in the world. In his flight here, he had time to think, and he made sure that he did not lose sight of his anger and did not calm down. He remembered what he felt when all of his fellow soldiers were killed—they were like his brothers. Scipio Taltarus was his hero, and he too was destroyed along with his lover. Marcus wanted revenge, he wanted justice. It wasn’t just anger that he felt. It was the guilt. It was the embarrassment…that all of his comrades had perished, and he was forced to live. There was nothing he could do to save them, nothing to save at least one other. He didn’t even get to die with them.
Now he finally had the means to do something about it. Now he wouldn’t have to feel guilty anymore, because he would correct that mistake. He would wreak vengeance on the Khanate, but he knew he could not kill them all. But he would kill Caracalla. That much he was sure.
Up ahead he came closer to the planet and used the Psionic Spear to force his mind into all those down below planet-side. With the telepathy, he would find out precisely where Caracalla was. But immediately, he felt the presence of another. Someone closer. And the thoughts he felt were maddening…they echoed his somewhat, and were an even more horrible, more unending form of rage.
Elagabolus floated in space ahead of him, waiting for him. He wore pants and the golden chains about him as usual, and his tattooed body shimmered in the starlight. He was beautiful and horrible to behold. He stood with his arms outstretched in a cross, and waited for Marcus.
Marcus felt the fear hit him at once like a bucket of cold water. He wanted to turn and run—but no! “Not today,” he said out loud, and he focused the spear on him. He began to pull forth Psionic energy, not caring that he was draining Psionics across the United Planets. He began to unleash a telekinetic blast.
“Not fast enough!” said Elagabolus suddenly, speaking finally! A wave of red energy came over him, the same destructive energy that Elagabolus was the sole master of—instantly consuming space-debris, asteroids and anything in its path. Marcus’ skin burnt hot, but he used the telekinetic power of the spear to put a shield above him and was locked in a duel of wills.
He waited and waited, scared and unsure, and then unleashed a wave of telekinetic energy back at the young Emperor, knocking him backwards in space, and then rushing after him.
Elagabolus moved easily in space, and turned back, catching Marcus off-guard. Again, he unleashed his energy, its horrible putrid smell somehow discernable in space, through awful magic means. Elagabolus’ eyes grew red with hate, and he prepared to burn this sentient to his bare soul.
At once he was upon Marcus, and put one hand on the spear. He would pull it from his grasp and burn the young soldier alive, and return it to Caracalla.
Suddenly, Princess Tarina crashed down upon him with blast of light energy, tackling him downwards closer to the planet, lending Marcus a hand. He would not be alone in his assault.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
Princess Tarina moved at the slowest pace possible before light speed, erupting energy at a level unquantifiable and sending it through Elagabolus’ body, knowing full well the immense power the teenager had. She said nothing, the pure, bitter anger still like bile in her throat. She let loose more blasts, and more, and finally Elagabolus began to fall back…
“Aaargh!” he yelled, obviously attempting to lure her into a false sense of safety by falling back, and now unleashing his own brand of fury on Princess Tarina, as she fell backwards at the intensity of his power. She began to clutch herself, feeling the painful sear of his burning energy. Suddenly, Marcus burst back into the battle, ripping at Elagabolus with the Psionic Spear once more.
Not far off, the LMB flew through space at top speed, having left their cruiser a ways back and preparing to join the fray. Suddenly, Spellbinder felt the burning sensation again, as tremendous pain came over her.
“Crujeckie!” said Cobalt, holding her arm close as they flew.
“I’m okay, Cobie…” she said, “…but my people…it must be a tremendous strain…” It was the concern of her people’s welfare that weighed down on her mind now, and he could see that despite her ability to keep it together, each moment was terrifying her.
“I promise,” he said to her softly, “I won’t let what happened to mine happen to yours…” The two held hands. “No matter what”, thought Cobalt, “I will do whatever it takes to save her. She means too much to this world, and too much to me…”
“I can hear your thoughts love,” she smiled through the pain, “and we will do this together,” she said firmly, but with her beautiful smile.
He forced a smile back. “Together,” he said, and they flew on.
Further up, Marcus and Tarina battled Elagabolus, unleashing tremendous blast after tremendous blast, but both were having little effect on him other than knocking the wind out of him. However, his blasts were blistering hot and growing hotter, meaning they were somehow finding a way to magically break through the built-in defenses that each had. At last, he ripped forth a blast at both of them, knocking them back.
A large smile came across his face. “Get up!” he yelled. “You two alone cannot beat me!”
“How about three?” said Kid Marvel, suddenly slamming into Elagabolus and knocking him backwards. The LMBP had entered the fray.
Kid Marvel landed punch after punch on Elagabolus, using the full might of his super-strength. Each blow was devastating to the young Emperor, but he was able to get his bearings, and once more unleashed his energy upon his enemies. This time, Kid Marvel was knocked back, but not before Abin Quank could land a tremendous giant green fist upon him.
“Jeepers!” yelled Eryk. “Do something Lucky!”
Fat Cramer put her hand on Princess Tarina’s shoulder. “Are you alright, Princess?” The Princess turned with a vengeance, about to unleash a blast on Fat Cramer, the rage inside her still. “I’m a friend!” said Fat Cramer, “I’m here to fight with you. We all are,” she said softer.
Princess Tarina halted and then nodded, and suddenly turned, and jumped back into the fight.
“Alright!” yelled Caliente, following suit and unleashing her fire at Elagabolus.
“Marcus!” yelled Stealth, coming close to the boy, “you must stop! You’re better than this! You’re a better man than this…you must stop using the Spear!” she said, as Cobalt, Spellbinder and Rockhopper Lad joined her.
“She’s right Marcus,” said Cobalt, “you’re killing innocent sentients all across the United Planets. The Psyonians, the telepaths of Titans…so many others. You’re truly hurting them Marcus. You cannot use the Spear!” he said firmly.
“You…” said Marcus, “…you did not have the courage to do this…so I will!” he yelled.
“Foolish boy!” said Spellbinder, “put down that Spear,” she said, attempting to pull it to her telekinetically, but it was no use. Marcus had it in a telekinetic grasp that could not break.
“Please, soldier,” said Rockhopper Lad now, “what I have heard of you tells me that you are an ally. Would you abandon your friends now, after so much? Would you abandon the United Planets?”
Marcus hesitated, holding the spear closer. “I-I…” he began, but stopped. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, and then with a tremendous burst, he blasted himself telekinetically, and flew down to the capital planet of the Khanate of Sol Invictus.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
Marcus was gone instantaneously, the force he used tremendous. Spellbinder felt a pain unlike no other, as being the closest Psionic to the Spear meant she felt the full brunt of this drain, and she felt herself being stretched thin like never before. It was a maddening pain, and she closed her eyes and thought of her brother, Mikaal, the Crusader, attempting to block the pain.
Cobalt, through their telepathic link, only caught a glimpse of it, and it was horrific. He knew it was too much for anyone to handle, and could not bear to see the one he loved in so much pain. Immediately, with the full force of his magnetism, he pushed forth and flew through space faster than ever before—riding the magnetic current down below.
Not far off, Princess Tarina, Abin Quank, Eryk Davis Ester and his Luck Lord, Kid Marvel, Caliente and Fat Cramer battled the might of Elagabolus, who held them to a standstill. Again and again, each hammered away, each time growing no less victorious, but all the more tired.
“We have to get planetside,” said Vee to Outdoor Miner, shrinking onto his shoulder. “No need for a blind port. Crujectra, I know its hard, but use your telepathic link to see what Cobie sees and send it to Miner. Miner, take us down there. It may take sneakiness to get that damn spear…”
Rockhopper Lad put his hand on Spellbinder’s shoulder. “We’ll be there shortly,” he said, turning towards the others. “Now good luck! Go for it!” and with that, the two LMBers ported planet-side.
Down below The Holy Ceremony of Prayer was in full session, when Marcus broke through the atmosphere and arrived on the capital planet of the Khanate of Sol Invictus. The masses, in mid-prayer, were alerted by the High Priest Caracalla, who told them simply to be “wary my children, death looms from the West.” The masses scattered, while the warriors reached for their weapons and awaited the arrival of the now-extremely powerful soldier, the wielder of the Psionic Spear. The clergy scattered, but the High Priest Caracalla stood upon the altar and waited.
Marcus arrived with a BOOM!, knocking back all the Khanate warriors with a vengeance, and creating a small hole in the ground. The open church area was instantly wrecked, a terrible religious affront, though Marcus hardly cared. “Caracalla!” he screamed in a fury. “Caracalla! Today you answer for your crimes! Against the soldiers of Legion World and the United Planets! Against Kerissia! Ggrrgg! Wynthia! Against the universe—because you are an evil unlike any other!” His fury was blinding at this point, and he was unaware that he was using the spear to hold down all of the Khanate soldiers and put piercing headaches in their minds.
Caracalla stepped forward, slowly, without the slightest bit of fair or hesitation in his dark, black eyes. “You are the monster my son,” he said with his brisk voice, “you are the killer. You have come here for absolution…and I will give it to you,” he said, the last part showing his voice grow slightly shrill and cruel.
Marcus was beside himself with rage and confusion. He came all this way, yet he strangely felt compelled to let this holy man live…NO! He picked up the spear and prepared to end his existence with one blast, so total, so complete it would destroy everyone on this planet…
“Enough!” screamed Cobalt Kid, landing upon Marcus with a vengeance, and crushing him to the ground. The impact was astounding; with the magnetic force Cobalt projected against the telekinetic shield Marcus had created. The impact shattered Marcus’ collar bone instantly, and Cobalt felt his ribs crack. Both stood up. “No more Marcus!” he yelled, and before the boy could respond, Cobalt cracked him across the face with a punch.
Outdoor Miner ported into view, with a miniature Varalent, who leapt into the fray on Marcus. He leaped towards his chin, and flew at it with top speed, knocking the young soldier backwards. Outdoor Miner immediately ported to Marcus’ side and tried to pull the Spear free, but it was to no avail, Marcus had it too tight.
Again, Cobalt grabbed Marcus, as Varalent tried a different tactic and grew very tall, about 25’ in height, and put his giant hand down upon Marcus, to hold him. “Please Marcus,” he said, “we don’t want to do this but you’ve left us no choice…”
Caracalla laughed a wicked horrible laugh at the sight before him, as the Khanate of Sol Invictus’ warriors gathered around them in a giant circle. “You see, my sons,” he said, “even the enemy knows it is wrong for them to come here. They know they are at fault!”
Finally, Marcus unleashed a tremendous blast of telekinetic energy blasting all three LMBers back, and pulling himself back up to his feet. His uniform was ragged now and his mouth bleeding. He was beat up, but stood up alone.
“Marcus! You know in your heart this is wrong!” said Rockhopper Lad, as he and Spellbinder arrived to the battle. “You know you cannot do this…”
“I must…” said an exhausted Marcus, worn out from the long travel, worn out from Elagabolus and worn out from the LMB. Most of all, the strain of the Spear gnawed at him, as the Trumpeter had learned. “I must…” he repeated, “I must…GUKKK.” A blood curdled moan came from Marcus, as he felt hot metal pierce through his back and come out of his chest, and blood squirted up his throat. His hold on the Spear had been waning from the strain, from the exhaustion, and he could hold the telekinetic shield no more.
A metal piece of debris slid back through his body and out the way it came, Marcus’ blood covering it. Caracalla pushed the boy forth and dropped the blade to the ground—he had stabbed the young man in the back, and killed him where he stood. He looked at them all now, who looked on in horror, while the warriors of the Khanate of Sol Invictus cheered loudly for him.
“Such is the fate of all our enemies,” he said at a normal tone. Before him now, Marcus’ body began to shake, and he realized in the end, that the madness had overtook him too greatly, and that he should have been able to let go. And so Marcus passed away, as Caracalla picked up the Psionic Spear.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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Caracalla stood before Rockhopper Lad, Spellbinder, Cobalt Kid, Varalent and Outdoor Miner, who were battered, bruised and suddenly—afraid of what would happen next. In his hand was the Psionic Spear, which now continued to draw forth telekinetic energy. “You have trespassed, Legionnaires,” he said, and the crowd cheered their High Priest loudly. “You are at fault here, and there must be retribution!” They cheered again, as Caracalla stepped over the dead body of Marcus, who had been not only an ally to Stealth and Eryk Davis Ester, but was becoming a friend.
“No retribution today!” said Stealth, leaping out of the shadows! She had joined Rockhopper Lad and Spellbinder on their way down and remained hidden. She suddenly kicked at the spear, hoping to knock it away. She looked down at Marcus in the middle of the act and felt remorse for the path the young man had taken…she had grown fond of him as an ally. Her kick landed on the spear and the rest of the LMB regrouped, when suddenly, a burst of light blinded them all, and with speed unmatched, a new figure emerged with the Psionic Spear.
Princess Tarina now held it, and held it high above her head. In her hands, she felt its power continue to grow, and upon looking at Spellbinder, and the tremendous pain she was in, understood what the cost for using it was. She looked at Caracalla and felt the rage and the madness, as her entire people been laid to waste—a mass genocide engineered by this man before her, through his various agents. Death would be too good for him…but she must have her vengeance. There must be justice.
She pulled it back as if to cock it at the man before her, and all looked on, knowing there was little they could do to stop it. And then at once, she decided.
quote:Originally read by Faraway Lad: For first there was peace…and then there was the Three ‘Spears of Power’. History was not kind in recording what they were, though the obvious assumption that there was one for each planet is generally made. It is known that there were two lesser spears for day and night...
quote:Originally spoken by the Trumpeter: “Yes,” he said, “as I’m sure you’ve seen in the information you’ve retrieved for us,” he added, knowing full well she knew there was more than one spear. “The secret history is that there were three spears of power, though there are no available descriptions of the other two—simply that they are called the Spear of Day, given to the Kerissians...
quote:Originally posted by Cobalt Kid: Kerissia Recently thrown out of the United Planets, Kerissia is known for its technological advancements, as well as its continued war with neighboring planets Ggrrgg and Wynthania. The royal family of Kerissia continually has a genetic power passed down from heir to heir (with no natural explanation for which heir is chosen or when the power moves down the line) that gives that heir complete mastery over light.
quote:Originally spoken by the Trumpeter: It is said that only one spear could destroy another, which indeed is why the Psionic Spear was hid and not destroyed.
She held the Psionic Spear up for all to see, and gripped it with her other hand—and then smashed it completely in half. So it was that the lineage of the Spear of Day destroyed the Psionic Spear.
A psionic backlash unleashed backwards across the universe as all of the Psionic energy was restored. It was too late for the Mind-Flayers, but all of the other telepathic races were able to reclaim their birthright, and Spellbinder once more felt whole, as the pain began to slip away.
Tarina looked to the heavens to where she believed her people would be and at once apologized for her decision, but thanked them for the strength to make it. She looked down, tears streaming down her face, and beheld Caracalla. “You have much to answer for High Priest,” she said, the first time talking since the destruction of her people. “And you will answer for it now.”
But a wave of red destruction energy was suddenly upon her, pouring in from the sky, in a horrific, unending display of magic destructive power. In the final instant, Elagabolus rained down upon Princess Tarina with a vengeance, scattering her into hot, smoldering molecules.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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