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LYLE NORG, INVENTOR, reclined upon an impossibly thin, pale blue hover-mat that conformed perfectly to the shifting lines of his body.
The hover-mat, designed by Lyle, was a piece of hi-tech furniture that matched the tasteful, expensive furnishings and equipment that filled the large room.
LYLE NORG, SCIENTIST, knew how to be methodical, disciplined, exact, organized. In *this* room, however, he was a slob. Dirty laundry, bags of new clothing still in their wrappings, and food containers cluttered the floor. Shiny bits of machinary in varying stages of development, along with the tools that built or dismantled them, covered the tables and counters.
At Legion HQ, Lyle was neat and orderly. Here, he was anything but. This apartment/lab/hideout/workroom had been purchased with the fortune Lyle made before a Legion of Super Heroes existed. His surroundings were sloppy, his thoughts were not.
LYLE NORG, FORMER(?) SPY, studied the holofiles that arrayed about him, suspended in mid-air. Occasionally, he'd point the index finger of his right hand at one or another of them... sometimes with a jab, sometimes with a stroke that was almost a caress.
His trademark headband twirled about the first two fingers of his left hand in constant circles that never sped up or slowed down.
Lyle 'vanished' half of the files, arranging the remainders into neat rows. He flicked a button on the omnicom that rested against his thigh on the hover-mat. The theme from an ancient television show, Mission Impossible, began to play. The antique cd player was a prized possession; he'd had a wall unit specially built to house it. On that unit, beside the player, a holder for the ancient cd rested. "For Lyle... from Rokk... hope this inspires you" was emblazoned on the cover.
Lyle's reaction to this music was the same every time he played it. His eyebrow cocked and he grinned slightly. And then he seriously got to work.
LYLE NORG, LEGIONNAIRE, was distracted by a signal from the Legion Belt peeking out from under a pile of dirty uniforms. He recognized the tone of the signal as that of a routine communique. He glanced at the omnicom to double-check. He was right, so he didn't bother to 'open' the message from the mission board.
He was on official leave for a few days, after all. The Legion could do without him.
Wearing baggy short shorts and an open sleeveless vest, Lyle was settled in for a nice long day of planning. Laundry could wait. The Legion could wait.
The holofiles in front of him... the 'mission' they represented, couldn't. Though the time Lyle Norg, Invisible Kid, spent researching and planning would be considered 'down time' by the number crunchers, he was working as hard as the Legionnaires flying off to their next exotic destination. Like them, his work could save lives. Many lives. Entire planets of lives.
This time, it would be one life Lyle Norg intended to save.
A life that would, in turn, save countless others.
posted
Lyle stretched to ease the kink in his back. The hover-mat moved with him. He'd worked himself into a near-standing position, as he'd elminated most of the files. Now, 12 holofiles hovered about him like a halo. He moved several of them back and forth, seemingly without aim.
His eyes were focused intently on the files; his brow was furrowed, troubled. Lyle's teammates would recognize the expression contained in those usually warm, brown eyes. Most Legionnaires were a little intimidated of what those eyes, when so focused, might see.
More than one Legionnaire had suggested that it was the sensitive, probing, almost all-seeing vision of those eyes... and of the mind that interpreted the data delivered through them... that was the real superpower that kept Lyle Norg in the Legion. Not his ability to turn invisible gained from a serum of his own invention. That ability just gave him his name.
"Time to make some people disappear...", he muttered.
The ability he'd learned to expand.
With decisive, abrupt moves, he clicked several holofiles off.
Six remained glowing around Lyle Norg in his darkening-into-dusk hideaway. A futuristic tarot waiting to be read.
Six faces gazed back at Lyle. Six faces representing six lives that were about to change for the foreseeable future. Perhaps forever.
Lyle's eyes narrowed into a squint. The files grew brighter to compensate, then faded slowly away. Lyle closed his eyes, only to see the six faces slowly revolving beneath his eyelids. Turning in his mind. Coalescing.
Lyle concentrated on each one, considering their names in turn... recalling relevant and irrelevant bits from their biotexts.
"A rejected Legion applicant..."
"A fringe A.P. resistance organizer..."
"A mercenary..."
"A convict in Takron-Galtos..."
"A hero gone rogue..."
"An unstable genius..."
"And me, making seven. Seven Against Phoebus. Seven to rescue Jacques. If we can't... then I'm dead. And dying with me, the Legion."
Lyle shook his head slightly, his shut eyes tightened further. He wasn't being immodest. He *knew* he was right. He didn't need the calculations of Brainiac 5 or the prophecies of Dreamer to reinforce what he already knew.
He'd sought them anyway.
"Time to make some people disappear," he repeated. "There's more than one way to make someone invisible..."
From: Knoxville, TN | Registered: Jul 2003
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posted
OK-- if anybody's reading this, I'm gonna pause for a day or two to allow room for hilarious and inappropriate guesses (or prescient and exactly appropriate ones, perhaps) that can fill the roll call of the six unofficial espionage squad members.
I've already decided who the characters are that Invisible Kid is gonna pick, and one of them would be impossible for anyone to guess, since they don't exist in continuity. But the rest do.
But I'd like to see what characters other folk think fit the minimal descriptions I've given.
posted
Good guess, Juan ! Love Dev, but I think he'd overshadow the others. A better clue for this character might be rogue-became hero (preboot) roguish hero(postboot)...
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ML, as they say around these parts - more more more please.
From: home sweet home... unless i'm posting from work | Registered: Jul 2003
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posted
Better call in the Legion Trivia Squad for this, Mystery Lad! I'm lousy at guessing, but I love your eagle-eyed Lyle! Please, please continue soonest!
"This is what I get for 'borrowing' one of Brainy's discards", Lyle thought as he made his way through a long, darkened corridor.
Carefully looking into each room he passed, Lyle wafted along like a ghost on an invisible conveyor belt a handspan off the ground. "He *said* that the results were increasingly unstable when he shelved it..."
Looking up, Lyle spotted a blue spark traveling through an opague conduit. The 'conveyor belt' sped up to follow. "Maybe I should've fiddled a bit, like I did with the Valorium..."
The spark turned into a side-corridor, as long and unending as the previous one. "...but I'm as wary of The Anywhere Machine as Brainy is. I was *supposed* to materialize in the same room as my first 'recruit'..."
The spark disappeared as the conduit it traveled veered off into a side-chamber. Lyle followed, phasing through the closed sphincter-door like a ghost or a Bgztlian... or the user of The Anywhere Machine (trademarked by Brande Industries, restricted use only). "...guess The Anywhere Machine is programmed with a different definition of 'room'."
Emerging into a cavernous hall, Lyle could barely glimpse 'his' spark as it traveled the conduit now descending from the ceiling, one conduit among dozens... each opague, each suffused with a light blue energy. Each coming from a different angle in the ceiling to converge at the figure floating in the center, reclining/standing upon hover-mat of Lyle's own design.
Lyle quickly moved towards the figure, slowing a few feet from his quarry. The thin blue conduits undulated slightly as they converged upon the figure's head... like a nest of snakes under the sea.
Among the blue, tendrils of red moved more willfully, untangling conduits that here 'crossed wires', guiding unattached conduits that there needed a 'home'.
Bright blue sparks traveled through many of the conduits to their ultimate destination... the mind of the figure that now turned towards Lyle. Red sparks flared outwards through other conduits... blue for information received, red for messages sent.
"Hello, Lyle," the feminine figure spoke.
As she turned to face him, Lyle winced as he saw the totality of the changes in his acquaintance since the last time he had seen her. Elevated even above his floating form that wasn't there, she seemed thoroughly at home, as if she'd never belonged anywhere else. She wore a tight-fitting sheath-dress that gleamed a silvery blue. A red line of jewels sculpted into ruby spiders formed a belt around her waist. A larger ruby spider clung to the 'V' of her plunging neckline. Her sentient red hair, her glory, bustled in activity around her head... the thin conduits disappearing into her scalp like they'd been weaved in by some mad scientist turned hairdresser. Her natural hair, by design, camouflaged the points of insertion... which would've made manifest the monstrosity her form now but suggested.
"Sussa..." He wanted to ask how she was, how she could have let the sentient machines of Robotica do this to her, how she could have *sought* her new condition. He wanted to quickly recruit her to his cause... she owed him, after all.
But the Sussa he knew seemed but a memory... the Spider-Girl who'd worked with and fought against the Legion seemed gone. How much of Sussa Paka was left in this CompuSpider Queen hiding in her underground Labyrinth of a lair? Was it in him to play Ariadne and lead her out?
Lyle accessed the control panel attached to his omnicom and to the Anywhere Machine back in his apartment... causing a white light to shine. He needed to *see*.
Spider-girl flinched. Lyle winced, in response. He recalled one of her secrets... that she'd always been vulnerable to light, wearing goggles to compensate when she was a member of the Work Force. Now that vulnerability was apparently a weakness.
One of the conduits detached from the ceiling and struck at where Lyle would be standing if he were actually there... the 'male' ends of the conduit acting like claws.
Lyle didn't move. He was sorry she'd read his need for visibility as an attack. "You don't need..." he was interrupted by a surge of energy that he actually felt. Sussa stood immobile, her chin raised. She regarded him like a Queen of the labyrinth she'd built. A labyrinth he'd helped her begin. He knew it was a risk then. But he'd taken the gamble. As he still did.
"Clever... you've placed a means of attack in my apartment. You've been watching me..." he didn't want to follow the trail of *that* thought. He'd done more in that apartment than research...
"As you've been watching me, Invisible Kid," her voice was scratchy, as if long unused.
"I have... do you know why?" he might save himself some effort here.
"I have ...an idea," she answered. "Terms?"
"Check your account... the one I helped you set up," Lyle answered.
An red spark sped off into the ceiling... one of the many blue sparks returning carried the reply.
"Accepted," Spider-girl answered. She lifted a hand, donning a streamlined version of the goggles she once wore. She flung her hand out, pointing at Lyle...
...who found himself forcefully bounced back into his body, back at his apartment. The strength of the 'push' caused the hovermat to spin, spilling him to the floor. "I'll have to correct that..." he thought.
"With my acceptance, consider my debt to you paid, Lyle Norg," Spider-Girl's voice sounded from a red spider dangling from a blue web inches from his face. "Never spy on me again."
The spider burst into flame, then quickly disappeared, leaving a small dusting of ash that slowly settled to the floor.
"What have you become, Sussa?" Lyle muttered, pulling his headband into position on his brow.
"More than you can guess," a second red spider spoke from its blue webstrand, as it, too, exploded into a brief flame and disappeared.
"Just remember that spiders *bite*, as well as spin webs...", a third scarlet spider said from beneath him, just before it pounced onto Lyle's bare foot, closing its metallic jaws, then bursting into the brief flame.
Back in the 'labyrinth', the Spider-Girl who was queen of her own kingdom, smiled a hesitant smile.
A conduit/strand of her new Robitican weave curved so that its end hovered directly at her eyelevel. Its end was a small monitor, in which she spied Invisible Kid. She mirrored his words, speaking in unison with him.
"One..." a cascade of red sparks erupted through many of the conduits, branching off into dozens of directions.
"...down." Invisible Kid sighed, and called up another holofile, rubbing his 'hot foot'.
Spider-Girl giggled a laugh dusted with cobwebs.
From: Knoxville, TN | Registered: Jul 2003
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posted
An apology goes here to those who provided a guess for 'the hero gone rogue'. I realized as I wrote this, that my interpretation of Sussa isn't quite born out by her most recent appearances.
She does, I think, qualify if you consider the totality of her Legion appearances, unrestricted by footwear.
But *I* probably wouldn't have guessed 'Spider Girl' from the limited information I provided. So, again I apologize for a somewhat-unfair entry for the 'hero gone rogue'.
In case anyone wants to still make guesses, I'll identify the mercenary as someone that would be impossible to guess, as they don't exist in any continuity but that of my imagination.
I'll further add the the 'fringe organizer' is based on the most oblique of reboot information, but valid, nonetheless, I think.
That leaves:
"A rejected Legion applicant..."
"A fringe A.P. resistance organizer..." (for the bravest of guessers)
"A convict in Takron-Galtos..." (this should be the easiest)
posted
I'm not going to guess Todd, I'll leave that to those more knowledgeable that me. I love your ComputoSussa - a great interpretation of her, she did need revamping and you did her proud. Go Sussa! I pictured her as a Borg Queen with glorious sinuous strands, great stuff!
Actually, I'll guess that Xbomb Betty is the failed applicant - only because I love the Graemlin
-------------------- "Tempus Fugitive" the final part of the Adventures of Dream Boy series, set in the Three-Boot Universe. Read it only in the Bits o' Legionnaire Business Forum.
From: here, more often than not | Registered: Sep 2003
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Lyle snapped his headband against his forehead. "Funny. You tell a lie long enough you begin to believe it," he thought.
He frowned as he ran his finger alongside the border of the holographic headshot representing his next recruit. "Technically, my first recruit," he winced.
There would be no offer to make here, as there had been with Spider-Girl. The bargain had been made long ago. Which didn't make his prospective contact an easier one to make. If anything, the opposite. He ground his back teeth together. "No putting it off..."
A tall young man made his way quietly and efficiently through a crowd of celebrants clogging the street of the capital city, Szrii. Wild, high-pitched swirling music native to the planet Graa filled the air. Random natives stopped and ululated while clapping in a rapid triple pattern. They'd repeat the claps and resume whatever they were doing. Decorum was suspended on Graa. Couples and occasionally more kissed and groped each other openly. Food and drink, mostly of the mind-altering kind, were given freely with a hug and a wave thanks enough.
No one noticed the young man as he ducked into a nondescript housing unit. If they had, they would've seen slumped shoulders and heard a sigh or two. He wore his pale blond hair long and currently it hung in front of his face, obscuring his expression. What glimpses of his face that could be caught should someone make the attempt showed strong features, a nose slightly too big for his face and light blue eyes, all schooled in a rigidly controlled neutral blank.
As he stepped into his spartan, airy apartment, his slump disappeared and what had been masked by posture and baggy clothing became apparent; his shoulders were incredibly broad. As he shrugged out of the sleeves of his brown uniform, it became apparent that his arms and torso met the expectations those shoulders created.
He paused and triggered the 'privacy' mode at the abode control. The sounds of the jubilant crowd disappeared. He grunted a sound of relief. He was glad to get out of the noise, but the engagement of the expensive soundproofing system was triggered with another motive in mind.
"Maybe today, word'll come. It has to be soon," he tried to keep the sharpening sense of desperation out of his thoughts.
He glanced beneath the abode control panel at a Graan mask doll. The eyes were dark. No messages.
He stepped out of his uniform. His legs lived up to the torso.
He froze. Something was off. By now, the Graan Quillfox kits (three years old, but kits nonetheless) should be prancing at his feet, competing for a welcoming scratch behind the ear. Where were they? His muscles tensed. He had no weapon, but any intruder would find that he needed none but the strength and skill of his body... and the singular abilities of his mind.
He leapt around the slight partition that separated the entry from the rest of the one-roomed apartment. He crouched in combat-readiness, then quickly relaxed. Well, at least his hands went to his side as he stepped out of his crouch. His muscles stayed tense, ready for controntation.
The foxkits sat at attention, their oversized ears erect and pointing to the ceiling. The dark blue quills that gave them their name weren't, however, en garde, but were flush to their bodies, in vivid contrast to the pastel purple of their fur. The kits gazed in rapt concetration at a figure sitting cross-legged on the hover-couch (trademark SiteUnseen Industries), grinning at him.
"He's overcompensating for something," the blond man thought. "Here it comes..."
"I'd pet those beauties if I could, Ennis, but strictly speaking, I'm not really here."
"You mean 'officially'?" The years on Graa had taught Ennis to think like a spy. As he should since for most of those years, he'd been one.
"I mean corporally." He 'ghosted' his hand through the solid hovercouch. "What you're seeing is a holographic projection," the interloper explained, "one that can see you as clearly as you see me." The young man on the couch looked Ennis up and down.
Ennis shrugged. He hoped he'd never have to put on that uniform again. At least nearly naked was honest. Every stitch of clothing in this apartment was stitched together with threads of lies.
"Lyle," he growled. It was an urgent tone. Some would've taken it for menacing.
"Not in the mood for our usual marathon of banter?"
"No!" Anyone would've heard that as a growl.
Lyle sighed and the grin quickly faded. "I know, Animal Lad, I know. It's over. The transfer of power here in Szrii is complete. Your assignment here is over."
Ennis' hands covered his face for a second and his big shoulders shook once. Twice. His hands dropped and red-rimmed eyes looked out from the tendrils of long hair that obscured his expression. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, baring his face. Wistful, pleading blue eyes locked onto Lyle's steady, saddened brown ones.
"Then I can be a Legionnaire again?"
It caused a pang in Lyle's stomach as he heard the need in Ennis' entreaty.
"You've never not been one, Legionnaire." Lyle answered decisively, a little angrily.
"The rest of the team doesn't know that," Ennis snapped.
"More than you think." Lyle answered, his chin raised in challenge.
Animal Lad accepted the challenge. "Saturn Girl?"
Lyle nodded, surprised.
"C'mon, Lyle... a telepath shows up on Graa days after I arrive and offers to help me refine my 'gift'? Her disguise was a good one, but I had felt her thoughtcast before."
"She's not alone," Lyle said while obviously still thinking some deep thought or other. "But you'll find that out soon enough. For now, you're done here."
He gestured to a travelbag beside the hovercouch. "Everything you'll need is here. I've even arranged for transport for the kids there..." A thought strikes Lyle. "They aren't, are they? Kids I mean?"
Ennis shook his head. "I've had them for almost three years," he began but laughed a shaky laugh as Lyle did nothing but cock a questioning eyebrow. "Now that you mention it, there were some annoying kids down the hall..." He stopped and scooped back a recalcitrant strand of hair. "I won't even joke about it. My sentient into animal transformations have permanent effects if they last for more than a week. I don't and won't use my power like that."
"I knew that." Lyle stood. A disconcerting sight, since he now floated with hovercouch apparently severing him at the knees. "Do you need some time to say goodbyes...?"
"No!" Ennis' growl was back. "There's no one. There's been no one..."
"...for five years," Lyle finished the thought for Ennis. How well he knew. "That's a long time. I am sorry."
"You don't have to say that," Ennis tamed another lock of hair. "As long as the time I've spent here meant something. That I've accomplished... something."
"You have- but the nature and scope of that accomplishment will have to wait, Legionnaire. There'll be a debriefing back at Legion HQ. That's where I'd like you to go from here. And then..."
"Here it comes," Ennis' muscles retightened with the thought. One of the foxkits, Curly, the more empathetic of the pair looked back at Ennis and whined. "And then..." he said flatly.
Lyle's gaze looked exactly like that of the sympathetic foxkit. "And then," he hesitated once more.
"More deep cover," he shut his eyes. He was too near the edge. Could he do it again? Would he?
"No!" This time Lyle growled. "Not deep. And not alone. Never that again, Ennis. I promise on my oath as a Legionnaire. I am hoping that you'll help me make sure that another Legionnaire won't have to live the kind of life that you've had to live."
If Ennis had pointed ears like the quillfox, they'd now be pointing to the skies. Every muscle in his face was stretched forward as he caught what Lyle wasn't saying.
"You mean keep *you* from having to go undercover, " he said softly, sure that he was right.
Lyle nodded, reluctantly.
"I'm surprised you'd shy away from a mission," that didn't sound true. Lyle Norg had been the only familiar voice Ennis had communicated with for five years. There'd been stretches when he didn't hear from the Legionnaire for months at a time. In other stretches, he'd talked with Invisible Kid every day. He knew that he trusted the hero. Completely. He also knew that his expectations of Lyle were made too great by the nature of the past five years.
Lyle regarded Animal Lad steadily. He hadn't seen Ennis often, but he'd talked with him more often and more honestly than with almost anyone. He trusted him. As completely as he could. "It wouldn't be a mission, Ennis. It'd be the only way to save my life."
The pair regarded each other silently. The foxkits looked back and forth between them. The less empathetic one finally nipped at the other.
"The transport you've arranged. It's the fastest available?
Lyle nodded once.
"Three days then. Four, if there are delays."
"There won't be any, " Lyle smirked a bit.
"Military transport, then. They won't have a problem with the foxkits?" There was an unspoken question behind that last.
"Or the rest of the menagarie you've collected on the sly, Mr. Zookeeper to the Kings," Lyle smiled. "The U.P. Starcarrier Cullen awaits."
Ennis nodded once, a little too decisively. "I'll see you in three days then." He picked up the travelbag Lyle had indicated and rummaged through it, pulling out a tunic.
"There's a uniform in here."
"And a flight ring. I told you, Ennis, you are and have been a Legionnaire. Time to get the percs."
Animal Lad smiled a smile that revealed pure joy. He shook his head in disbelief, but let the uniform drop back into the bag. "I'm not ready to stand out *that* much yet," he said as he pulled out a black shirt. He pulled it on, then did the same with a matching pair of tights. His long hair now covered his face once again.
"Maybe I should get a headband like yours," he laughed as he once more smoothed his mane into place.
"And infringe on my trademark? I'd have to sic my lawyers on you. Try a haircut instead. There's a full-service grooming unit on the Cullen."
"Lyle--"
"Yes?"
"Should I be worried now?
"Relax, Ennis. Honest. Enjoy yourself on the Cullen. Get a message. Catch up news. There'll be some 'for your eyes only' files to get you caught up on Legion business, but don't rush into it. You've earned much more than a three day vacation. Nothing's going to happen to me, I promise."
"On your oath?"
"On my oath."
With that, Lyle grinned confidently and disappeared. Ennis Janhson, Animal Lad, onetime menagarie-keeper for the King of Graa, former spy (he hoped) and future Legionnaire (for all Lyle called him one, he didn't feel it yet) slung the travel bag over his shoulder, put a foxkit under each arm and left the apartment without looking back.
No one would have recognized the quiet palace worker who'd entered the housing complex in the muscular man in tight clothing who strode confidently through the still-celebrating crowd, head held high, hair streaming behind him in a pale, blond trail, a half-smile making his face handsome and attention-getting.
Settling back into his body at his apartment, Lyle breathed a sigh of relief. "That was easier than I thought it'd be," he said ruefully, shaking the compassion he felt for Ennis from his mind. "Two down..."
"... and a debriefing to schedule." He thumbed his flight ring, nudging a lever in its setting that sent a 'leader only' signal.
From: Knoxville, TN | Registered: Jul 2003
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posted
PHOEBUS VII: Once thought to be a planet, this world is actually a large satellite of Phoebus V. Phoebus VII does not revolve, thus has a fixed 'dark side'. It does have a unique orbital pattern that exposes the satellite to the system's star, Apollo. This exposure makes terraforming the surface of Phoebus VII virtually impossible. However, extensive 'cavern gardens' riddle the interior of the satellite, with sparsley populated surface cities housing Phoebus VII's industry and bureaucracy.
--Astromation Quarterly
Silver boots rang against the cool marble floors of Appollondria's Palace, the seat of this world's goverment. Legs clothed in shiny black powered the strides that took the silver steps around the crescent of the ancient throne room that still housed the ceremonies of one of the galaxy's oldest ruling monarchies.
A deep maroon cape billowed behind a silvercloth tunic with the world's sun-in-moon symbol emblazoned upon it. A deceptively ancient looking weapon- a cross between a sword and a spear dangled from a shoulder-scabard.
The man whose stride ate up the images of his world patterned in the marbled floor increased his pace. He growled as he passed an open balcony, where strains of the holiday song 'Season of the Sun' wafted into the room.
As a member of the ruling family, he had to observe the traditions that kept the populace content, but this weeks-long holiday season ate into his plans!
If he wanted to rule, he'd have to exercise patience to attain the throne. Once his spear sat in the sunsheathe, he could forget words like 'virtue'... and 'patience'... and 'restraint'.
He growled again, involuntarily. This growl had an unsettling undertone to it. An almost sexual one.
Yes, this son of the sun had plans. Ones the oracles and the Delphii and the Unseen they warned about could not halt. He wouldn't let them.
TITAN STARDOCK: A private Brande Industries operated starship docking facility, largely- but not exclusively- utilized by the U.P. Militia. Rumored to be shielded by Titan's telepaths, the Stardock is known as a place to meet when you *can't* be seen.
"The Places They Don't Want You to Know"
A well-appointed, but utilitarian conference room made beautiful by the floor-to-ceiling view of Saturn's rings. A plain, metallic table dominated the room, surrounded by floating hoverchairs. Holovid ports and refreshement trays dotted the table regularly.
A privacy field in the shape of a doorway dissolved with the descending glissando in a minor key characteristic of Titan's strongest psi-shields. Through the temporary door stepped a blonde woman wearing the emblem of Titan on her chest, a green-skinned man with a wrinkled-in-concentration brow, a tall, easy-going man with shaggy brown hair, a male with a serene expression and a lovely, regal looking woman on his arm. They were followed by a short man wearing a fur-lined cloak, a curly-haired blond man, a laughing strawberry-blond man and two dark-haired men, one of whom had an orange cloth draped over his forearm.
A glissando ascended as the privacy field reformed. This grouping was as private as 31st technology could make it.
"Have a seat, Legionnaires," one of the dark-haired men gestured towards the table.
The green-skinned man was the first to take a seat as he passed his hand over a well-disguised panel in the table, revealing a keyboard. He typed with speed and precision. The holoports flared into life, an 'L' floating above each projector. A center panel popped and another machine rose. This viewscreen displayed an approaching starship with a 'projected time till arrival' datafield blinking at the holo's 'foot'.
The second dark-haired man lifted the orange cloth, shaking it out. A vaguely man-shaped uniform dangled from his hand, which he held by the uniform's 'arm'. A visored helmet listed to the side, the visor hanging ajar.
"OK, Wildfire!" the dark-haired man said, as he glanced at the countdown.
The shaggy-haired 'jock' grinned and whistled, as if he were summoning a pet. "Here, boy," he laughed.
The dark-haired man let go of the cloth and it began to fill, as if hooked up to a pump.
A fist began to shake before the 'pump' reached the head.
"Let it be, Drake," the blonde Titanian said. She also gazed steadily at the countdown.
The fist pumped one more time, and the visor sealed itself with an audible, answering snap.
The 'jock' laughed again and shook his head. "We'll 'talk' later, bud," he mouthed.
"We've got less than an hour, Legionnaires," the regal woman stated.
"Let's begin," her consort added.
They exchanged a glance. Princess Projectra raised her hand, palm forward, fingers apart and curved in an Orandan oratorical flourish that would've been familiar to the first members of her royal line.
Cosmic Boy, Saturn Girl, Brainiac 5, Ultra Boy, Karate Kid, Mon-el, Wildfire, Lightning Lad, Dream Girl, Element Lad, Polar Boy and Princess Projectra... all those save one who have held the position of Legion leader turned their aggregate attention to the countdown clock and to their individual holoports, which now showed Ennis Jahnson's floating face with the interlac 'Animal Lad' floating beneath him.
"As current Legion leader, I ask my predecessors to come to order."
From: Knoxville, TN | Registered: Jul 2003
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Set
There's not a word yet, for old friends who've just met.
posted
So many options for the convict in Takron-Galtos that I'm not even gonna try.
Brainiac 5 would be far too easy for 'an unstable genius,' so I'm gonna try for Jaxon Rugarth, just for giggles.
Interesting stuff. I like the developments on Spider Girl and Animal Lad.
Registered: Aug 2006
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![[Invisible Kid]](graemlins/InvisibleKid.gif)
LYLE NORG, INVENTOR, reclined upon an impossibly thin, pale blue hover-mat that conformed perfectly to the shifting lines of his body.
![[Smile]](smile.gif)
! Love Dev, but I think he'd overshadow the others. A better clue for this character might be rogue-became hero (preboot) roguish hero(postboot)... ![[Invisible Kid - Post-Boot]](graemlins/InvisibleKid1.gif)
"This is what I get for 'borrowing' one of Brainy's discards", Lyle thought as he made his way through a long, darkened corridor. ![[Spider Girl]](graemlins/SpiderGirl.gif)
who'd worked with and fought against the Legion seemed gone. How much of Sussa Paka was left in this CompuSpider Queen hiding in her underground Labyrinth of a lair? Was it in him to play Ariadne and lead her out?![[Big Grin]](biggrin.gif)
![[X-Bomb Betty]](graemlins/XBombBetty.gif)
![[Animal Lad]](graemlins/AnimalLad.gif)
Ennis' hands covered his face for a second and his big shoulders shook once. Twice. His hands dropped and red-rimmed eyes looked out from the tendrils of long hair that obscured his expression. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, baring his face. Wistful, pleading blue eyes locked onto Lyle's steady, saddened brown ones.
