Story 5: Recruitment Drive

Pages 1-2: New legion HQ (everyone)

Patin is leading the team into the spaceport, which looks more like a futuristic set of docks than a modern airport. "I know we talked about having the first annual call for members--which as, you all know--is required by law if we're not going to stop every single time someone asks to join to hold a meeting," she says, "although we'll probably hold more open calls when we want to add someone--at our temporary headquarters, but frankly, we've had enough extra charges from the hotel that I'm very interested in not having more from a bunch of people showing off their powers.

"So, I think it's time that I showed you all a surprise I've been working on. This," she says, unlocking an opaque security fence as they turn a corner, "is our -new- headquarters, and incidentally, where our open call for members directed people to show up. So what do you think?"

Cut to a splash screen to show the scale of a derelict spaceship sitting at dock, one whose breadth (if not height) dwarfs the hotel their headquarters has previously been in, but which is clearly in bad shape; several sections are broken open or even collapsed, and there appears to be a permanent fire burning in one of the aft sections as shown by a pillar of smoke rising up from that area.

Gorvo gazes in wonder at the spaceship. "That is SO cool! Bags first dibs on choice of room!"

He dashes forward, flitting from one porthole to the next to try and see inside.

"Wow, I think we're not the first," he says as he levitates a local raccoon equivalent out of the ship in a force bubble.

"Aw," says Ode. "Could we --" He breaks off before asking to keep them.

"They won't they eat your face off while you sleep? Weird," replies Gorvo. "We're not big on pets on Tallag. But when in Meridian City, I guess."

He keeps the force bubble afloat and moves the raccoon-oids over for Ode to get a closer look.

"Maybe we could build them a nest? Or shelter? I know they're not pets."

"Maybe," Patin says, "I don't know much about local animals, but it's not like we don't have the space.

"It's not in great condition, but I hired a team to just clean out and set up the main entry hall, so we should be able to use it for a temporary headquarters and interviewing room. For the rest...it will take some work."

[BR: totally working in Proty meets Rockett plotlines if you keep the raccoon-oids]

“Do we know what to feed them?” Dolar asks. “Or anything else about their biology? If they multiply quickly, space could become an issue."

Gorvo smiles. "By the look of them they probably feed themselves on whatever we leave out for the garbage collection. If Ode wants to keep them, I say go for it. It's not my face that will get eaten."

**********

Given the open advertisement that went out, and the media exposure after last month’s events at the Diplomatic Academy, there’s a decent sized crowd of composed of both spectators and applicants.

Jinnjahl makes a short speech to the group as a whole, reminding them of the membership rules (age, intrinsic powers, vote of members, etc.) She continues, "We will ask you to speak to the membership committee - currently the entire membership - one at a time, introduce yourself, demonstrate your abilities for us or outline the circumstances you would need to do so, and tell us - *briefly* - under what circumstances you think your powers would be useful and generally what you think you'd bring to the Legion."

The first young man, clearly of a Wynathian root race, is balanced on one foot when the Legionnaire approaches him.

"Would you come talk with us?"

"You bet!"

Further back in the line is, for legal reasons, Future Boy. He may have already proved himself, but the charter says all new members must start as applicants.

Jinnjahl looks over the crowd but doesn't acknowledge Future Boy in particular.

Walking into the clubhouse the boy is gaping around and nearly walks into a chair.

"Oops. Just a little nervous," he says to the arrayed team of proven super-youths. He swallows, and then pulls out a collapsible baton with a flat base, which he extends and places on the floor.

"I'm Twidd Davi, but you can call me Gyroscope Lad! I'm from the colony world of Malon, where we live on top of very small plateaus in high wind. We Malons can balance *anywhere*!"

And with that he leaps, slightly awkwardly, onto the one centimeter diameter top of his collapsing baton. Once there he regains his composure, balancing easily on the ball of one foot, even swaying outward a bit and then swinging back to center with ease. He seems to have forgotten the bit where

he tells the assembled heroes when this would be useful in their work.

"Nice," says Ode, encouragingly.

"Oh, please," Patin says, stepping out of her seat and walking up a series of smaller and smaller stepping disks until she's approximately matching Gyroscope Lad. "I'm not one to say that acrobatics isn't useful, but...I can do that, not with a power, but with training and some talent. Have you found any ways to make your abilities...well...useful?". She suddenly leaps backwards, landing standing in front of her seat with a stepping disk steadying her, before taking her seat again.

"Well, I figured, if you needed to rescue someone from somewhere up high. Or carrying rare medical supplies over a wire or..." he shrugs, "I dunno. I thought being a super hero would be cool…."

“While we are grateful that Meridian City’s inhabitants appreciate our work,” Dolar says, i nclining her head the precise amount that conveys respect for an age-mate taking a social risk, "the Legion was started to help us use our natural gifts in the service of others, not to gather adulation.” Her eyes flick down to her right arm, which is now in a sling. "It is not always a safe undertaking, but working as a team helps each of us protect others. Do you have any thoughts on how you might you combine your talent with ours?"

"I... I dunno." Twidd is nervously hopping from one foot to the other, keeping perfect balance on the narrow baton point. "It seemed sort of obvious at my apartment... Can I, um, come back? like, next time? now that I know what to expect?"

Patin says, "Please do. When you're ready, not necessarily next time if it takes longer. Don't let anyone tell you you're useless--not even me--not if you work at it. But next time, I want to be impressed."

Gorvo pipes up. "Looking at the queue outside I think we're going to be doing this several times over. You take your time and work out what works for you. And if you can figure out how to balance a cork in Patin's mouth, we might consider that a plus."

Once Twidd is out of earshot, Gorvo turns to Patin. "Maybe we could let the candidates show us their powers, Patin, instead of showing off our own."

"That's not the point," Patin says. "If people think we'll let in the first person with a unique power, we'll never have any rest. We need to be choosy, and that means only adding people to the team who improve our ability to help out, rather than just being dead weight. And that does mean that if we have someone with the ability to create things, they need to be measured against the closest team-member we have to that skill set, people with mental powers need to be compared to Mr. Music, and acrobats or martial artists need to be compared to me or Metal Lass. If someone has a truly unique ability or skills, well, that's different."

The next candidate is led in. She has green skin, raucously purple florets over her head and shoulders as ‘hair’ and is waking slowly into the room.

There's a long pause, before the next candidate is led in. "Is there something wrong?" Diskette asks. She peers though a stepping disk. "Ah. It seems the next candidate...well, you'll see. Eventually."

“Greetings, Legionnaires! My name is K’kk’K<creak>shhhh, but since most people here can’t pronounce that, I am called Flora.” A slow grin spreads over her face. "You might say that I have a /green thumb/.”

Slowly and deliberately, she pulls a pot and a packet of soil out of her pack, fills the pot, and places it on the ground in front of Ode. She then pulls a peach pit out of her pocket, pushes it into the soil, and begins making a series of whispery sounds. As she steps back, a shoot erupts from the pot and quickly grows into a small tree which blooms and sets fruit as the Legion watches. Before long, there are six ripe peaches hanging from its branches.

"Oh!" Diskette exclaims, leaning forward with interest. "Well, she may be slow, but her powers aren't."

Flora picks one and offers it to Ode.

He smiles, but doesn't reach for it. "But, why this?" He gestures to his fellow legionnaires. "Why not create gardens and parks? Or help out on planets where the soil needs your encouragement?

She shakes her head, making her blooms bounce. “I want to help people *now*, not a lifetime away. Many Arcadians with this gift are expert terraformers. But it takes soooo looooong.” She twists at the waist, taking in all of the Legionnaires. “My progenitor thinks I am too impatient, but *I* think dealing with immediate problems is just as important as taking the long view."

"Is Flora also your preferred Legion name? Or do you have another name in mind for that?" Diskette asks.

“No, Flora is what people call me *now*. Thinking up a Legion name before I knew whether I could join seemed…hasty.” She shrugs, looking flummoxed. “Grow-Girl? The Botanist? Earth Daughter? Speaker-to-Plants?"

"Chlorophile?" Gorvo suggests. "Whatever name you decide, Flora, how do you see yourself helping out the Legion? How do your powers aid in dealing with an emergency?”

“I’ve been thinking about that!” Flora exclaims. "If someone is in danger high up off the ground, like when you fought that hotel fire, I could grow a platform up to them. If you needed to hang on to a criminal until the Science Police arrived, I could grow a cage of thick vines to keep them in. And I can make plants die back, too — that could have come in handy when you were chasing those Tellagi animals!"

Gorvo nods along with Flora's list. "That sounds good to me. Metal Lass can do lots of those things too though. Plants and metal are sort of complimentary maybe?"

[BR: One thing to keep in mind, though I'm not sure how to display this on page, but Flora's body movements and walking are slow. Almost comically slow. like, Mime doing one of those 'see how slowly I can move' routines. The only thing I can think of is her walking to the platform would have been drawn to take 22 panels, flip book style.]

"Don't know about that," she replies, "but I think I'm harder to damage than Metal Lass." She takes a slow glance over the Legion. "Or any of you, really."

"I don't think we need a demonstration on that," Diskette says, "Although I'm willing to assist if you -want- to demonstrate your resilience. Are plants under your...control...stronger or hardier than they normally would be? Or do you need to suit the plant to the task; ironwood if you need strength, willow for flexibility, kudzu if you need even faster growth than normal? And can you use plants to carry you--if you need to get somewhere faster than normal?"

“Each plant remains itself, although I can ask parts of it to grow thicker or faster than others. I’ve never tried..um..growing my way down a block. My kind generally use wheeled scooters that move when you lean one way or another if we have to get somewhere quickly. Which isn’t often.” She looks at the ground. “Most Arcadians are kind of dull, when it comes down to it."

Before anyone can respond, there is the sound of a ruckus approaching a riot outside; The young heroes spring into action to see what's happening... But Bubble Boy and Miss Anima are able to watch Botany Girl 'race' to help. By the time the crisis is resolved the earnest plant girl is just at the doorway to see Diskette and Metal Lass returning with Future Boy.

Flora cocks her head to one side. “Are we switching now? No matter what you decide, thanks for letting me show off how I grow things — that was fun.” She gives a cheery slow wave as she moves inexorably out the door. “Hope to see you around!"

*********

Outside Future Boy can see a striking red headed woman in line and recognizes her from his compulsive reading of news reports as Jandar Cee, the girl who lit fire to her hotel.

"You're Jandar Cee, aren't you," Future Boy says, "The Singeorgi who burned down the hotel? You look a lot better than in the police footage."

Jandar laughs, an odd combination of nervousness and habitual flirtatiousness. "Yup. That's me, although you can call me Dragon Maiden or Dragon Maid if you want, um..."

"Tok. Also known as Future Boy. though not nearly as well-known as you are--don't worry, I'm not one of those people who thought you were just drunk and went crazy; I know you were attacked--my subconscious knows even better, since it linked your bump on head into other factors and figured out that your attacker would strike again. And I've seen him in person, briefly."

Jandar starts. "You've seen him? I... I’d say I don't want to see him ever again, except, if I'm avoiding danger, what am I doing here? If--no, when I see him again. I want to be ready. Not a victim. Not a tool. Not a monster."

"That's very inspiring. Um," Tok frowns. "Apropos of nothing, what do you think of surprises--good or bad? How do you feel about learning about them before-hand?"

"I like surprises!" Jandar says. "Well, I like good surprises, of course. But for bad ones...I don't want to know of them too far in advance. If I can do something about them, I suppose that's ok, but if I can't, not knowing means I can enjoy the time in between without having to worry."

"That's a healthy attitude, Dragon Maiden," Tok says. "and good luck."

"Thank you," Jandar says. "Good luck to you, too, Tok!"

"Thanks, I won't...Thanks!"

He can also hear a conversation between a couple of other applicants nearby - many people are chatting about the Legion, about their powers and so on, but a strand of conversation floats to the surface of his awareness.

"Lucy, i'm not sure I understand your power. What does a projective psychotropic kaleidoscopic aura _do_?" one boy says.

A girl replies "It might be easiest to show you....”

"Dragon Maiden," Tok says "You'll want to close your eyes now."

The Singeorgi girl closes her eyes, perhaps with a bit of confusion, right before the girl several paces behind them radiates a gallimaufry of color, creating a mandala crazy quilt of overlapping images across, over and in-between everything in a five-meter radius. The light slights through the eye into the brain, triggering emotional-altering illusions.

Tok can feel the light working on his mind, but the shift to an altered state of thinking immediately triggers his own mutation, putting him into a state of flow that he has years of controlling. Given time he might lose control, but for now his actions are his own.

He can see the rest of the crowd blissing out, save for one boy who is beginning to look a little panicked... and Jandar, who has her eyes firmly closed.

But Jandar can feel the aura beginning to prickle on her skin, working its way into her body that way....

"I can't..." Jandar says..."have to get away...". Jandar breathes fire towards her feet, and jumps, using her fire to push herself up as far as she can go, working blind until she feels the prickling subside and looks for a landing spot, or she starts to run out juice, in which case she'll use her fire to soften an otherwise uncontrolled landing. (probably not too far away, given the 5meter radius).

Meanwhile, Tok walks calmly back towards the glowing girl, pausing to whisper something into the panicking guy's ear " "You can do this. Just keep walking forward, you'll be out of the field in no time", before continuing on. "You need to stop this," he says, "Someone's going to get hurt."

The glowing girl, Lucy, instantly shuts her power down. The lightshow ends in a flash, but the effects linger for several seconds.

She looks around, seeing Jandar crouched down in a circle of flame. "Oops," Lucy says. "Sorry."

"Still, " Tok says, "that was amazing, if scary. Where did you get that power--and can you control it, more than turning it on and off?"

At this point members of the Legion from inside come out to see what the ruckus is.

"According to Mum, dad ascended to a higher level of consciousness when i was, um, conceived," she blushes a little. "And it's taken my whole life to learn to turn it on and off."

She looks around again, and then looks at the recently arrived Legionnaires. "I'm sorry. Usually the people around me aren't as anxious as they were here. I'm Lucy Skydiamond."

The moment she says her name, Ode feels a prickling of warning from the earliest teachings at the monastery... of the deep, centuries old forces this girl is unknowingly toying with....

"Child," says Ode, uncharacteristically deadly serious. "You do not know what you are meddling with. There are consequences for disturbing certain forces. We should meditate together."

Lucy looks grave, then nods. She's clearly confused by his attitude, but at the same time she's happy to be taken so seriously by a member of the team.

"Yes, sir," she says, adopting a deference that the minimal difference in their ages wouldn't justify.

A panel or two of meditation, then her eyes open wide, and Lucy stammers out "I didn't realize!"

Dolar shrugs at the meditating couple and looks toward Tok. “Would you like to come inside and explain what just happened here?"

"Of course," Tok says. "I think it's resolved for now."

*********

"All right," Future Boy says, "first, you're going to want to know what happened on the line. It started when I overheard a girl talking about her powers..."

...

"And then we came in here. It was clearly an accident, and I think everyone should be ok. But you brought me in for my interview, right? Well, you've seen how my powers work first-hand, but I haven't been idle. I've outfitted my suit with a variety of tools and devices, so I should be able to do analysis as if I have a full field kit with me--which effectively, I do. And when things come down to blasters and fisticuffs, well, I can't generate a force field or move metal with martial arts, but combining some of my devices with my short term prediction," Future Boy does something and a staff appears in his hand, then disappears at least as readily, "I should be an asset on that score as well.

"Is there anything else you want to ask?"

"Sure," Diskette says. "Can you give us a demonstration of this self-defense? Probably I shouldn't do it, since i did the last one; Metal Lass, do you want to volunteer?”

“Certainly.” Metal Lass bows, then spins on one foot, darting her hand into a pocket of her robes to pull out a metal ball the size of a pool cue. She flings it at the superhero hopeful as she stops in a crouch, spreading her hands. As her hands widen, the ball warps and splits into ten small projectiles, each speeding toward a different part of Future Boy’s body.

Tok pulls a small package from his belt that expands into a staff, and he adopts a defensive position as the projectiles approach. There are two passes of the spheres that make it clear to Diskette and Metal Lass that the boy has had some training but nothing too impressive.

On the third pass Tok’s eyes glaze over, as if he is not really seeing things, and he proceeds to slap aside three of the incoming, fast moving spheres with his staff with no difficulty, including one that was approaching from behind, hitting it square with the narrow butt of the staff, and then spinning perfectly to avoid the others.

Metal Lass smiles and flicks her right hand upwards, causing Future Boy's belt, full of metal tools, to lurch upwards. Simultaneously, he spins around, throwing his staff at her belly and breaking her concentration in a soft explosion of breath. After a moment, she straightens and bows deeply, in the form denoting the end of sport. “The challenge is met.”

Page 3: The Missing Monsters

The Legionnaires have spent the last month trying various methods to track down the missing Tellagi animals, combining Bubble Boy's xenobiological know how with Mr. Music's deep understanding of detective fiction and police procedurals. After the morning meeting the two of them head off, new member Future Boy in tow, tracking down another lead.

Using the Legion's newly won reputation the pair have developed relationships with various biochemical supply houses, pharmacies and other places that might ship in the Pirtin needed to keep Tellagi animals healthy. One of those pharmacies called in today, saying that they had had someone else come in and surreptitiously ask about getting Pirtin. "The fellow seemed shifty'" their contact told them. "Wearing a rain-hood to shadow his face, nervous. I put him off, told him I'd meet him after hours."

The face in the holo smiles "And when he comes back you can be here!" the pharmacist seems exceedingly happy to be able to help 'nab a bad guy' "Thank you," says Ode. "It might be legitimate, but we definitely want to be there."

[Ode isn't suspecting a trap, but is concerned that the pharmacist not assume that just anyone buying Pritin is a bad guy, even if that is the way to bet. Otoh, he doesn't want to discourage cooperation.]

Gorvo says, "Maybe we should ask Future Boy to take a look at all the facts and take a nap before bringing him along, Ode. His subconscious will have a chance to work on the details just in case the lead proves fruitful."

The pair swing by the latest Legionnaire's 'lab' to find him already gone, off with Miss Anima to look into the Institute for Last Chance Medicine with Metal Lass.

"Well, Louis," says Ode, misquoting, "looks like it's just you and me."

"Then let us begin our beautiful friendship. Or continue it at least, at the pharmacy."

The two call for a skimmer/flitter/taxi-thingy at the appropriate time and head for the pharmacy rendezvous.

As they dart through the skies over the towers and curved forms of the city, Gorvo says, "What purpose does this Black Mace fellow have in mind, I wonder, beyond simple chaos. Do you know anything about the people he serves?"

Ode shakes his head. "Only what I was taught by the master."

"They want to tear everything down. Not to rebuild, not to make a better society. Just... to destroy. From bitterness or anger or envy or... things like that. Or the love of destruction. And those who work with them, they're bitter or envious, but may not realize what entropy really is. Or may realize and not care.

"It has the seeds of its own destruction within, of course, but by the time those grow, good people are dead, and good works destroyed.

"It sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it? Only, it's real."

"It's a pretty dark fairy tale. I can only imagine people like that might stop at nothing in pursuit of destruction. They remind me of little children on Tallag frustrated when they can't control their force-fields precisely. They often lash out in anger, smashing whatever they can reach. When you can't build, tearing down is the easy path."

Gorvo continues, "We have to be very careful. Such sophonts care little for bystanders or the innocent. If Black Mace wants Metal Lass dead, he will try again and may be endanger more than a gasworlder and two students in the process."

At this point the skimmer sets them down near to the pharmacist’s shop in the dimming, tail end of the day light. They should, by rights, have had a little time to set up before the supposed meeting, but they can see that some sort of altercation is already taking place inside as they approach. The door is open, slightly cracked and they can see a cloaked figure holding their contact several inches off the floor, up against the wall, with one hand. The figures back is to them, but they can see the pharmacist's face over his shoulder.

"Hey! Drop that pharmacist!" cries Gorvo as he hustles from the skimmer across the landing park.

The cloaked figures growls something to his captive, but does drop him the moment Bubble Boy enters the shop... only to launch some blue sphere across the room that damages energy flow to the light fixtures, changing the pleasant, calibrated lights in the room into a flickering strobe of half-light and half-darkness.

Round 1

Cloaked Figure: 17

The figures leaps across the room in the strobing light. he looks somewhat familiar to Bubble Boy, but all he can see is the feral, almost gleeful grin as the form hammers onto his personal force field. He feels the frission of his field interacting with another Tellagi's, and then is lifted off the ground and hurled across the room. The crash into the corner doesn't harm him - or anything else in the shop, merely upending a small table tchotchkes.

Bubble Boy: 16

**Splintering Moons!** thinks Gorvo, **I'm facing another Tallagi.**

Gorvo leaps to his feet, driving his force field ahead of him to pummel his opponent. **I have to keep his attention on me and away from the pharmacist.**

Backed by the need to protect others (and likely a surge of adrenaline), Bubble Boy's force field surges out, hitting the cloaked figure square in the chin and sending him down arse over teakettle.

"Surrender! The Science Police are on their way!" he yells, hopeful he sounds convincing in his bluff.

"Let them come..." the figure says, wiping away the trickle of indigo blood from his newly split lip.

Gorvo is certain that he has heard that voice before...

Mr. Music: 16

Mr. Music finishes hitting the 'emergency dial' number that Miss Anima coded into all of their communicators, then sprinted through the flickering strobe of the room to push the stunned pharmacist into the back room out of the line of combat. The two go down in an controlled fall to give them the maximum cover once they are out of sight.

"He...He just started demanding who I was selling the Pirtin to... it didn't make any sense..." the man gasps out as he recovers.

Cloaked Figure: 2

The rogue Tellagi comes up from the crouch in a sprint, hitting Bubble Boy full in the torso and carrying both of them out of the pharmacy and into the street via the window. The larger figure lands on top and, pinning Gorvo down, proceeds to punch him several times in the face.

Gorvo's force field holds through all of this, though he can see the almost cathartic pleasure the figure is getting in the visually impressive if ineffectual pummeling.

He suddenly stops and says, a trifle unconvincingly from Gorvo's perspective, "Oh. It's just you."

Bubble Boy: 1

Bubble Boy expands his force-field rapidly, ballooning upwards to drive his assailant into the air. "Just me, villain! And that's plenty!"

**Hang on,** thinks Gorvo. **Do I know this Tallagi? Colliding comets! Is it Hardo Sen?**.

Hardo flies into the air and lands with a thud right in front of the incoming SP vehicle

"What was that for you..." Hardo pauses then gives up muttering "Boy..."

He turns to the SP, clearly -to Gorvos eyes - over nursing any effect from the recent throw and his split lip.

"What's all this then," says officer Erin, looking over the scene.

Mr. Music: 1

[LP: Josh had to explain to me that Hardo was doing what Ode and Gorvo were doing. Would Ode actually have figured that out, do you think?]

[BR: Yes. Yes he would.]

Page 4 Top Half: Diskette’s office

Diskette heads back to the ship HQ's main office. Walking into the room she spies someone already inside the room, back to her, peering over the desk.

[BR: This is her older brother and perpetual rival, Qintin Felos. His genetically engineered power is Astral Projection, and since he kept most of his Terran endurance he's capable of projecting over vast distances. Up to you whether Patin recognizes him immediately or not.]

Palin stiffens, shifting to a stalk as she approaches the figure. With a disk, she quietly opens her door from the inside, her hand appearing from the inside to turn the knob, before approaching, weapon in its un-extended form in hand--then stops, relaxing visibly, and puts the weapon away. "Qintin. What a surprise," she says, her speech bubble slightly frosty. "what brings you to this benighted backwater?"

Qintin looks up, and flashes a smugly ingratiating smile. "Why you, of course. Can't I want to see my lovely sister?" He glances back down at whatever is on her desk, hands behind his back.

"The publicity impact of your new club, I admit, caught my interest, but I didn't decide to drop by until this expenditure," he waves his hand to indicate the ship, "hit the family accounts."

Patin steps around (and possibly partially through, if she's figured that he's a projection even if the readers haven't) her brother, before taking a seat at her desk. "This", she says, "was an excellent deal."

[BR: quick check against Patin's businesswoman background confirms that it was an OK deal, regardless of what she thinks.]

[JK: Patin thinks a lot of herself. Even when she's right--or wrong.]

Qintin's smile turns momentary patronizing. "You certainly saw an opportunity and moved on it, yes. The 'excellence' depends on whether you can find the technical expertise to get it flying again."

[BR: this should confirm for Patin how much her brother has been watching her, since he clearly doesn't know about Future Boy yet....]

"That's not really why I'm here, however. I'm actually here to let you know you may have to handle some family business. There's been some thefts targeting other major conglomerates on Meridian City. None on us yet, but I poked into it as a preventive measure and the thief may be a Gander native." His lip curls, "It may come around to us, so be ready for it.”

[BR: Patin knows what this means - the Felos family, for all that they run Gander - are not considered 'natives'. the Gander natives are of terran stock who engaged in mass geneforming centuries ago to give themselves wings at the expense of their terran endurance - not unlike with the Felos family does on an individual scale. There are factions on Gander who don't care for the Felos Group's governance.]

"Well that," Patin says, "I can certainly handle. With help, if it's enough of a crime wave that I can reasonably involve the Legion in it. What makes you think it's a Gander?"

He gives her a look that one would normally save for the terminally half-witted, then walks through the desk towards the door. "I watched him operate once. He has wings. It's a bit of a giveaway. His rig looks designed to block all electromagnetic detection and recording, but that's hardly an issue for me."

He looks around the room again, "Whether you involve your friends is of no concern to me, as long as it gets handled if it touches our affairs. Good luck with the club. Don't do anything that will make the family look bad." And with that he blinks out, having the last word, as always.

In the next few panels, Patin, her face flushed, starts meticulously clearing her desk, starting by moving a stylus she'd left carelessly to the side. As the desk gets progressively more ordered, we pan out to a point where we can see the stylus again, which is quickly falling between two disks to her right. As she works at her now meticulously ordered desk, her cheeks return to a more pallid normal, and the stylus accelerates to an invisible blur, which flips in the final panel, clearly heading towards the ceiling.

"Fine." Patin said, the words edged in frost.

Page 4 Bottom Half: Substitute Heroes

In the aftermath of Lucy Skydiamond's display of her abilities the crowd thinned out considerable, but it is still some time before the Legion sees every applicant for their first applicant drive. Towards the end Jandar approaches to see how things landed and finds a plant girl rooted nearby, watching as well.

"Hi!" Jandar says, smiling broadly. "So how'd it go?”

“Dunno,” the plant girl shrugs. “I’m not sure they know what they’re looking for yet. But I got to grow some stuff, and that’s /always/ fun. Peach trees _love_ showing off.” As she talks, one hand extends slooowly toward Jandar. “I’m called ‘Flora.’ What do they call you?”

Jandar shakes her hand, holding it lightly. "Well, they call me 'Dragon Girl' since the incident," she says, smiling, "but I usually go by Jandar or Janny. I was going to try out, but...this isn't the time. I almost lost control when that girl started strobing while you were inside; I could have hurt a lot of people; only didn't because Tok warned me in time. I want to help people, like I was helped, but until I can avoid being a danger, rather than stopping them, I'll have to avoid..."stressful situations."

“Nice to meet you, Janny!” Flora squeezes back gently, and Jandar can feel a surprising strength in the plant girl’s grip. “I know what you mean, at least, I worry about hurting people by accident, too."

Page 5: investigating the institute (Miss Anima, Future Boy, Metal Lass)

The trio of young heroes - Miss Anima, Metal Lass and Future Boy - arrive at the Institute for Last Chance medicine and are greeted enthusiastically, or as enthusiastically as his old Wynathian bones can manage, by Dr. Plact, the administrator for Jinnjahl's department.

"Miss Jinnjahl, Miss Ahn, Master Kallot, I'm so glad that you've asked to come see our facilities. Our facilities...." He looks at Dolar, "We always like giving new cultures an opportunity to see how our activities here are cutting edge. Cutting edge."

Plact gestures the three in, "And Mr. Kallot, your technical reputation precedes you. Precedes you."

"Thank you," Tok says. "I'm looking forward to talking to Mans Wyla again--I think he can provide a lot of insight in my research. He's a brilliant physicist, and I hope he can make a full recovery someday."

"That's our hope with all our patients, however unlikely. However unlikely."

[BR: Don't read too much into this being the same guy as before - law of conservation of NPCs.]

Dolar greets Dr. Plact in the form that denotes respect for an elder with the potential to become a teacher. Only the most adept scholar of Metaxian gestures would notice her partly-suppressed skeptical sub-forms.

“My people have long been curious about the methods you use here, Dr. Plact. I am grateful for the opportunity to learn more."

"Learn More, yes of course. Please follow me and I'll show you what you need to make a favorable report back to your homeworld. Your homeworld."

Plact leads them on a quick tour of the facilities, which are spacious and consciously austere in the public areas and jam packed full of scientific and medical equipment behind the doors. Some parts of this are things that Jinnjahl has seen before

• individual patient rooms that range from bright and cheerful to 'how can we possible cram more life sustaining gear in here' to "there's a nice print on the wall so the staff doesn't feel creeped out about maintaining life support on a stasis tube in a virtual closet" depending on the needs of the patient

• the small staff lounge (where's there's a picture of a kitten hanging from a tree branch and a happy 'hang in there’ motto that has been edited to have medical tape wrapping the kittens’ paws to the tree branch and the new legend "never let go.")

[JK: Around here is probably where the group starts hearing phrases of Last Chance's operational music-- "never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down..."]

[BR: The Institute is Rickrolling people?]

[JK: Naw; I/the letterer did that. The Institute's obviously playing a version of the song that's all about medical care. (operational music? Read "musak").]

• the antechamber to the operating room, where Jinnjahl will animate sketches, and one of the operating theaters - Jinnjahl knows there are 3 or 4 of these based on the needs of the operation, all kept at a constant chill to stay inside the bacteriological safe zone and lit with UV as well as visible light to identify any potential contamination.

What she has not seen before are some of the theoretical rooms, places that make Tok's eyebrows raise at the cost and variety of the equipment, from biology to chemistry to physics. There is very little that can be done to the bipedal xenomorph body that can't be done under controlled circumstances in this building.

"Wow!" Tok says.

Jinnjahl is able to spot through a partially closed door a graphical board filled with both calculations and a relationship map of various humanoid headshots, one of which she thinks might be Wyla's... The tour is moving quickly along at this point, into a tacheyon bombardment chamber designed to introduce vaccinations to a patient before they acquired the disease they currently possess.

"Time travel?" Tok asks, "I thought that was mostly regarded as impractical."

Plact smiles, "If we let something like that stop us, Master Kallot, then we wouldn't be here. Be here."

“But wouldn’t its use produce a paradox?” Dolar presses. “If you succeed, the patient would never come to you, and you wouldn’t know that you should try it."

"We encode the vaccine with both bio-luminescence and a molecular communication to contact us. The patient stays healthy but temporarily glows, and then when the discern why they're glowing they know to send the Institute a message to close the loop. It's all very elegant. Very elegant."

"Huh, that makes sense, but it does seem like you've only partially solved the problem of paradoxical time travel heroism, that by the time you've done your job, nobody remembers it."

"But, Mr. Kallot, we will have saved a life. A life." Plact brow furrows. "If we can ever get it to work properly. But we keep trying. Keep trying."

Dolar nods, amplifying the form that conveys respect for an ideal. “Attempting to save lives is always commendable. Do member worlds of the UP assist with the upkeep of the Institute?"

"Oh great stars, no. No." Plact says, "Governments usually have little funding for people who accept our level of risk. Of risk.

“You must have some very generous donors, then, to support such advanced equipment!"

Plact shakes his head "The problem with science is your desire to learn always exceeds your budget. Budget."

"My understanding," Jinnjahl says, filling in for her friends in a tentative tone, ready to have Plact interrupt, "is that some of the patients donate and many of the people the Institute saves are generous afterwards, and some of them are *very* generous in their wills. Their spouses and children too. But this changes a lot depending on who's died this year and how lucky the institute was twenty or fifty or a hundred years ago. And the donors who give just because they like the mission of never giving up on live change a lot year to year, depending on what else charitable people find to donate to this year and whether the institute has had good or bad publicity lately. Some years the institute has more money and can buy new equipment and still take all the patients with, say, a one in three hundred chance of a cure. Some years the institute is having a budget crunch and has to turn down patients they think have a one in _one_ hundred chance of a cure. But they always have to turn down patients -- there's simply more patients willing to give up their last few weeks for the slimmest chance of a cure than there is budget to pay for the operations, even when the doctors are donating their time."

Page 6: Investigating the Institute II

OK, we have a panel with showing the inside of Jinnjahl's closet sized office, summoning her uncle and her cousin. Then cut back to Legion HQ where she is explaining things to Diskette, Metal Lass and Future Boy.

The information is as follows: the institutes funding sources are mostly anodyne, if a little strange. There are a handful mega-wealthy individuals keeping them on a quiet retainer; there was a trust fund set up by one of their first patient (who lasted an extra 4 years) to handle some operational costs and indigent cases. they accept people with advanced forms of common conditions with minimal cost in hopes that their unorthodox treatment will lead to evidence of a broader solution.

Mr. Wyla is a special case - there are several different business ventures that are chipping in funding to keep him alive. The Institute is holding out very slim hopes for recovery if they can find something, anything that will work (and there's a tantalizing note that there may be something they could try) but the funders prime concern is keeping him in suspended animation and not permanently and definitively dead.

You do have a list of those funders, but I'm not going to bother typing all of them out.

"Well, this seems clear enough," Diskette says. "They're not trying to stop Wyla from coming back, but it's not that important to them; what they're focused on is preventing him from dying. And with it all being businesses, it's not going to be personal. I'd bet that if he dies, it's going to trigger something that will hurt them, and their businesses, in a significant way. As long as he's alive, however thinly, they're happy enough -- so my guess is that's it's about property rights. If he dies, all his intellectual property goes to his heirs--who have a lot of power over those working with his inventions, particularly if they don't -exactly- have a contract. Whoever is currently running his estate; maybe even some of those involved in funding his survival, might even be following his wishes, but his heirs are under no obligation to do the same, and a contract made even with power of attorney once he was unconscious would almost certainly not be enforceable on his heirs. Particularly if there was such a conflict of interest involved.”

“Are these the same people who were so excited about the ideas that Wyla’s image relayed?” Dolar asks. “It’s possible that different groups within his businesses are working at cross-purposes."

[BR: Not all of them are the same people; more precisely, some of the people paying to keep him alive are those who were so interested in his work, but they are a fraction of the whole of the contributions for him. It is that group that is most pushing for having him recover with wild out-there therapy; their money ramped up with Miss Anima was able to start asking Wyla about his work and the institute started feeding the data back. The other business interests are playing the "keep his name off a death certificate" game.]

Page 7: The dark byways with Hardo Senn (Bubble Boy, Mr. Music)

Bubble Boy and Mr. Music are tagging along with Hardo Sen, who is leading them through less salubrious sections of Meridian City.

"I had one other lead," Sen says. "Rather than trying to track what the Tellagi animals need, I started tracking why someone would need _them_. That led to the black market animal fighting circuit in the city. So I introduced myself as a trainer. Got a Kalak to use."

Gorvo knows of them through his xenobiology studies. They are normally docile badger-like creatures that can be goaded to fierce aggression, but a tellagi animal would tear them apart.

“A Kalak? I hope that's not supposed to face anything Tallagi fauna. It would be a blood bath.'

Hardo rolls his eyes at this amorphous altruism.

Gorvo turns to Mr. Music. “I know you can soothe tempers with your music. Can you sense anything like anger or violence around you when you play? I wondered you could pick a feeling for strong emotions nearby. It might come in useful when we get closer to any Tallagi creatures. They're ALWAYS in a foul temper.'

"Can try." Ode will indeed try. He's done something like this, if accidentally, the first time he sensed the entropy monks.

The lilting lad of lyricism starts to strum, shifting his senses into the spaces between sounds, and is able to feel the echo of continual rage that he last felt when he was surrounded by cranial lightning….

"Anger..." murmurs Mr. Music. "Great anger... just like on Bat Island!"

[A quick montage of Mr. Music leading Bubble Boy and Hardo Sen through progressively more disreputable looking alleyways, where progressively more disreputable looking sentients of a variety of species watch their passage -- some are around the equivalent of a trash fire, some playing a complicated card game that's no doubt a con, some arguing over the price of used trinkets on a rug on the sidewalk. Ode's expression varies from intense concentration to anger (the creature's) to shock at just how much anger there is. The musician may have had the idea that animals were somehow more tranquil on the whole than humans, and that the Bat Island situation was mostly because they were suddenly, y'know, dumped on Bat Island.]

[MC: The seedy underside of Meridian City. I knew it was too good to be true.]

[BR: it's 3 blocks, but it's very seedy.]

[LP: Josh says it lacks dancing girls (in lieu of anything more than G-rated).]

There are clearly some Tellag creatures present - perhaps only one - and nearby. The feeling is washing out the emotional feedback from the rest of the crowd, so Ode can't feel how anyone else is feeling.

"How is all that coming from one creature?" says Mr. Music. "I... can't feel anyone else. I mean.... they're there. There's a crowd. But, I can't sense its emotions beneath the anger."

"Perfect, we go in," Hardo says and muscles his way into the group, grabbing a box with the Kallak from one of the people nearby with a nod and a transfer of funds. There's an open space in the crowd behind him as he pushes in - room enough for the Legionnaires to enter the circle if they wish.

"You can't put that into the arena," says Mr. Music. "It won't last five seconds."

"Hardo, listen to him. It will be a slaughter! Surely we can identify the kidnappers before the fight starts."

Gorvo leans in close to Mr. Music and whispers. "Can you control the crowd if things get ugly? I think I can protect the Kallak with my force field long enough to get a bead on the owners, but if things get hairy we're going to need more than a force field to avoid a riot."

"Be easier to do it the other way around," says Ode, beads of sweat starting to form. "Can't even feel the crowd. Just the creature. I'll try."

Gorvo has to get close enough to see the Kallak and shield it if needed, so he presses forward with Hardo after the exchange with Mr. Music above.

Mr. Music's going with Bubble Boy's plan (unless told otherwise), and will also get closer.

The trio make their way to the center edge, and once Sen steps towards the ring with his Kellak. "I'm willing to put something in!" he says. Gorvo can hear the false bravado in his voice, but his stance and carriage do radiate a reckless confidence.

The crowd parts on the other side, and there's a big man with a caged Harun - the vicious, meter long cat-reptile creatures. The Harun is showing its normal emotional state, which is 'Hate All Creation'. Ode quickly recognizes the big man as being a litter mate of the mercenary that they rescued on Bat Island. Standing next to him is a woman in a purple and black combat suit.

[BR: reader may well recognize her as Detona, seen in the two asides with Liel]

"There was no way we couldn't hear about your clumsy hunting around for the Tellagi beasts, Mr. Sen. It didn't take much for us to set this up to resolve the issue."

Ode, Gorvo and Sen are all grabbed by the 'crowd' in a coordinated mob action, holding them (in Gorvo's and Hardo;'s case holding them by their force fields a few inches from their skin.) The people holding Hardo lob him into the center of the ring, where he lands with a thud.

"Kill." the ginger man says as he opens the door, and the Harun leaps with evident pleasure at the opportunity.

[MC: Balls.]

[BR: you can take comfort in the fact that Hardo's plan was bollox, not yours, and you get to save him.]

Gorvo tries to expand his personal force field rapidly, driving back the crowd holding him, and moves towards Ode to try and get him free to act on the crowd.

**I hope that Hardo can hold off that Harun long enough for me to free Mr. Music! We need his powers to sway this crowd.**

Gorvo strengthens and expands his force field, buying himself space to reach Ode. Once he's able to reach through and touch his teammate he has enough proximity and control to extend the field around him and then expand it again, giving both boys about 5’ of space inside the crowd.

Out of their sight due to the crowd there is a growling, a snap, and a loud scream from the center of the ring. A splatter of Tellagi blood lands on Gorvo's field before tricking downward and being lost in the pummeling crowd.

There is a constant battering on the field from the crowd, who have produced several easily concealable clubs. The pressure is nothing like being hit by Black Mace, but it's a sustained drain Bubble Boy's concentration.

"You really want to move from just minor illegal animal fights to murder?" asks Ode, strumming and trying to make the crowd afraid, or at least confused and uncertain. "We rescued your litter mate, dealing with more than one of these," he says to the woman. "He got himself into trouble. We got him out."

Raising his voice, he adds, "You do know these aren't your loyal pets, right? This isn't just some question of stopping your fun. These animals will turn on you as quickly as on anyone else. Do you really think letting them get used to killing sentients near you is such a good idea?

"Your brother thought he had it all under control. We didn't ruin that control. We were on a rescue mission, and we went to a lot of trouble to save him. Right now, we'd like to rescue Mr. Sen. We did tell him not to do this."

Under Odes influence a large chunk of the crowd wavers and then runs. Sentient nature being what it is this leads to a larger exodus as no one wants to be the last one standing around in a retreat.

The crowd still prevents the Legionnaires from seeing exactly what's going on in the center ring but they can hear the growling change tenor, become less fierce.

Gorvo is able to push a clear path in the rout with his force field to see Hardo on the ground holding his mangled arm. The Harun has apparently changed targets as it is turning to leap at the man who released it. Before it can leap the woman in purple smoothly draws her pistol and points it at the Tellagi beast.

There's a muffled bang and the Harun drops bonelessly to the ground. In the sudden silence the woman in purple (Detona) and the mercenaries litter mate are both scarpering

"Stick close," Gorvo says to Ode. "We need to get to Hardo."

Gorvo concentrates and tries to expand his forcefield and drive forward like a plough into the ring. He wants to reach Hardo but keeps an eye on the fallen Harun.

He's able to shove the melting crowd out of the way and extend his field to cover Hardo. For some reason Senn still hasn't strengthened his field, relying on the lower level of defense. He seems dazed, but was coherent enough to tighten his field enough to hold the wounds on his hand closed. His other hand is still holding the Kellak, which is looking up at him adoringly.

"What did I just...?" Hardo asks.

Mr. Music checks the Harun. It's dead, bleeding out of one ear. There doesn't seem to be a lot of blood. He’s not a medical expert but it's clearly no longer alive.

Page 8: the birth of Monster Boy

This final page of the story has three different tiers.

The top is labeled Meridian City University biotechnology department.

There Gorvo is assisting Darvish in the autopsy of the Harun. Since cutting into one of these is difficult the work is being done with a scanner, showing the interior of the things body. Gorvo is looking that over, while Dervash is looking at the biochemistry

"The blood sample is fine; they've been feeding it right, whoever had it. Estimated last bout of cellular regeneration coincides with the Bat Island incident, so they haven't been beating it enough for it to have noticed." She looks over at the corpse, "and it's the male. I hope the other one isn't with pups."

[Gorvo has the following information to share: there's no entrance wound. The beast's brains are jellied by massive concussive force, but there's no wound. Very slight charring on the inside of the ears. it looks like someone set off a bomb inside the things brain, but there's no metal fragments showing on the scanner to support that.]

Before Gorvo can share his information, Darvish changes the subject, "Look, about Hardo... I know he got in way over his head, and I know he'll never admit he's lucky you were there, but go easy on him. Ever since his...incident, he's been... overcompensating."

Darvish looks like she's on the fence about further explaining something.

Gorvo ventures, "his incident? What happened to him?"

"Hardo is an extreme environmentalist," She says. Gorvo knows of these durability testing hobbies among Tellagi, Heck, as a deep-sea explorer he practices one. "He got pinned under a rockslide in the desert, trapped out there for weeks, eating what he could grab with fields. His body had gone into shutdown, near dead when they finally found him. He never properly recovered. His body chemistry had changed; field glands had been permanently damaged. Hardo can't ever really power up."

She pauses, then continues. "He's on Meridian City because he's grasping at straws in my work. I think he thinks people back home see him as somehow less because of his injury." She shakes her head at this. "He just has a lot of anger in him, but I don't know if that's who he was before, or a biochemical change, or grief."

"Wow, and I thought he was just an ..., well you know, a bit of a jerk. That makes me look at him in a different light."

Gorvo shakes his head. "He's not wrong though. Some folks back home are really uptight about fields and the whole survival of the Tallagi. Cull the weak and all that." He shudders. "Much as we'd like to think that's all in our past."

"I know. Hardo can be abrasive, and pushy, and takes risks," she stops to push a stray lock of hair back into place. "But I don't like to think that he's a bad person. He's just hurt."

**********

In the second tier we once again have Detona, mask off now, in front of Mr. Liel again in his nightclub office. "I told you detonating one of your devices was a last resort! instead you killed my Harun before it could do what we sent it to do, and our problems are multiplying." Liel says, clearly furious. "If we hadn't already bred them your relationship would be at an end."

The curtain behind Liel twitches.

Detona, flanked by Liel's litter mates, keeps flicking her eyes up to the curtain behind his desk. "it was a last resort. The Harun had... stopped attacking that guy. Mid bite just stopped. And then it turned on us."

"Harun never stop attacking," Lael retorts.

"I know," Detona says, "That's what scares me. I really have to get off this planet...."

************

In the third tier we have Hardo, back in his rooms after being seen to at the hospital. His arm is bandaged up but all there. He keeps looking at it, and at his other hand, and then at the Kalak he still has in a cage.

He opens the cage, and the beast runs out. Hardo's eyes glow slightly as he holds up his hand and the animal stops. He twitches his fingers and the animal awkwardly shuffles up to its hind legs and starts to do a little dance in time with the fingers.

Hardo Senn starts to smile a thin, mean smile.

‘’’CONTINUED IN THE NEXT ISSUE OF ACTION COMICS’’’