🚀 go-pugleaf

     It is natural, perhaps, that when a sentient wise in the way of the
Universe thinks of Planet Xolchipalia, he thinks of the Xolchipalian Defense
Forces.  Made up of officers and agents known for their incorruptible natures,
their indomitable spirits, and their irrepressible nobility, the Xolchipalian
Defense Forces patrolled one of the largest sectors of allied space, pledging
their lives and their incomparable technology to the idea that all worlds
should have the capacity to rule themselves.  The X.D.F. had, over the past
millennia, repulsed attacks against their Member Worlds and Protectorates from
the Muhuhahaharan Empire, the Ottsamaddawidus, the Kreeps, the Bluds, the
Hordax, and even forces supported by their own renegade cousins, the
Interstellar Mafia.  The Exdefs have withstood magical assaults from the
Magestrix, cosmic storms from the Riders of the Cleansing Nuclear Fire, and
even the advertising barrages of Mister Popiel.  Only truly overwhelming force
or treachery had ever proven sufficient to surpass their Gunboats.  Satan T.
Lucifer Jones, flying the mammoth Yesj (since rechristened the Pretty Damn Fine
Ol' Hellacious Ship Alamo's Revenge's Revenge) managed to break their lines.
Deputy Commander Jonathan Frakes (Coincidence) had managed to betray them.  And
of course, there was the coming of the Cormanite Tribes of Planet Wood Junior -
- but the less said of those dark years, the better.
     As we stated at the beginning of the above paragraph, one usually thought
of the X.D.F. immediately when considering Planet Xolchipalia.  But they are
hardly the only thing Planet Xolchipalia has to offer.
     Their technology, for example.  It is generally accepted that the
Xolchipalians are the most technologically advanced race in the known universe.
Having harnessed the secrets of Xolchipalium, Xolchipalite and Xolchipalladium
(the metal that truly superior miniature figures are made of), the
Xolchipalians enjoy the fruits of a technology that is environmentally
friendly, extraordinarily sophisticated, simple to operate, easy to maintain,
and pleasing to look at.  While most starfaring races might do one or two
things better than the Xolchipalians do, no race could come close to the
Xolchipalians on a whole.
     But there is more to Xolchipalia than technology.  They have a near utopia
without the stagnating oppression most utopias carry within them.  No one goes
hungry, all are educated, and all have productive lives they lead through their
own choice.  There is no crime.  There are almost no laws.  The population is
stable and content.  The planetary ecology is stable and lush.
     Impossible, you say?  Of course.  But this is science fiction, so I can
get away with it.
     But for all of these things, there are still deeper truths to be found in
the Xolchipalians.  Deeper, in fact, than the strange, coincidental and utterly
legally unactionable fact that all Xolchipalians seem to have the identical
appearances, mannerisms, and names of terrestrial Science Fiction actors.
     Below everything the Xolchipalians are known for, there is the Corps of
the Fifth.
     In a cavern hewn from the nearly indestructible Xolchipalite ore of Mount
Jeez-that's-a-big-Mountain, a small knot of men and women met around a
Xolchiparallax Crystal.  They wore red and silver robes, and each had a silver
ring on their right hands.  A lens was set into those rings -- a prism shaped
like a smooth pentagon.
     "What news?" Corpswoman Judith Anderson (Coincidence) asked.
     "I've just heard from Alec," Corpsman Sean Connery (Coincidence) said.
"He is on the Ottsamaddawidu Free Trader Oksana."
     "The Oksana?" Corpsman Ralph Richardson (Coincidence) said, a look of
concern appearing in the depths of his face.  "I have had dreams of a Trader
such as that.  Dreams of the end of all there is."
     "Agreed," Connery said.  "He says he has made contact with a couple of
farmers from Planet South Dakota.  They're not evil, he says.  But he scents
death on them."
     "There has been echoes of destruction before," Anderson said imperiously.
"The coming of Tara.  The Ascendance of Fox.  The walk of the Elder Spirit.
Why should the Corps of the Fifth become involved?"
     "I'm rather afraid we have to," a quiet, yet firm voice said.  The
assembled Corpsmen turned to the faint, green glowing sending that approached
them.  "I'm afraid we have no choice at all."
     "What do you mean, Brother Alec," Richardson said to the ghostly sending.
"What is different about this cusp?"
     "The difference, my friends, is this."  Guinness made a gesture towards
the Xolchiparallax Crystal, and shimmering lights coalesced within it.  They
altered and formed, growing darker and darker, until they finally came into
focus.  The figure that remained looked to be carved from pure obsidian.  It
wore the uniform of the Xolchipalian Defense Forces.
     And its face was that of Michael Green, the Masked Bruce.


                               The Adventures
                                   of the
                        Adjusted League Unimpeachable

                                 Episode #80
                         "Origins Volume the Fourth"
                   "Knights in Blue Spandex Part the Fifth"
                                     by
             Eric, Lord Sabre, rasterized for maximum resolution


     The room was more or less dark.  What light there was came from the
Boston, which persisted in existing right outside the office window.  Said
window was cracked open, slightly, so Dianna could hear the noise of the
traffic.
     She gulped down more of the harsh Canadian whiskey.  She almost never
drank.
     She looked down at the microcassette recorder in her hand.  After a long
pause, she pressed the silver button.
     "I have no idea why I'm keeping this record," she said.  "Who's going to
listen to it?  Mike?  If Mike didn't hate me enough before, he sure does now.
Thanks to Nouveaux Skunk.
     "So get rid of him, Dianna.  Change your plea.  Stop this before it breaks
the A.L.U. apart."  Dianna rubbed her eyes.  "What's the matter, chicken?"
     She sighed and set the recorder down, still running.  "You bet I am.  I'm
scared to death.  And more than a little mad.  Mad at Nouveaux Skunk, mad at
Alpha Psi Omega, mad at Mike... at myself.
     "And at the whole God Damn Adjusted League.  And why not?  Damn it, I'm in
more pain than they are.  Bruce has a bad week, we all rally around him.  Jane
loses her powers or Trudy gets slammed around -- we spend weeks putting them
back together.  Building them up.  Making them whole.  And me?  Not one of them
has even asked how I was doing.  They've made their decision.  So why shouldn't
I take them down with me?  Huh?  Why not?"  Dianna's voice broke, thick with
tears.  "I didn't mean to kill him!"
     She sobbed for several minutes.  Gradually, the tension left her back, and
she slumped against the desk.
     "That's unfair of me," she said finally.  "When horrible things happened
to Trudy, Bruce or Jane, they were external.  Something was done to them.  I
made this mess all by myself, right?  Just like Mister Holt said I would.
     "The frightening thing is, it's looking like I could win this case.  And
what happens then?  How will they trust me?  If the... if Wilhelm wasn't bad
enough, Nouveaux Skunk's ripping my reputation *and* Mike's to shreds.  I can't
get over today.  First Figuremaster... and then Superuser.
     "God... Superuser...."

                                   * * * * * *

     "Please state your name for the record."
     "Your name for the record."
     Neither the Masked Bruce nor Trashman slapped the witness on the stand,
but it was a very near thing.
     "Let me try this again.  Can you tell us your name?"
     "Yes."
     "Very well, would you?"
     "Could you, in a train?  Would you, could you, on a pla-"
     "SUPERUSER!!!!!"
     The Defense Squad founder jumped.  "Jeez, if you knew my name in the first
place, why'd you ask?"
     "The Council has to wonder that the Defense doesn't have an objection
here," Trashman noted dryly.
     "The Defense was rather enjoying the exchange," Nouveaux Skunk said, a wry
look on his face.
     "So noted.  But in the interests of time..."
     "All right, all right.  My name is Superuser, I swear to tell the truth on
Superguy's name, my favorite color is blue.  Can we get on with this?"
     The Masked Bruce paced in the center of the Council Chamber.  "Superuser,
you were one of the heroes who fought against the Revolution, yes?"
     "Hang on, let me see.  Hm... picked up my laundry, drank a yoo-hoo, had my
split ends trimmed, went to a Mets game, fought in the Revolution... yup.  I
was there."
     "And," the Masked Bruce drove on, undeterred, "you met quite a bit of
resistance, didn't you?"
     "Well, sure.  The pooftas... 'scuze, I mean Bubbas--"
     "Objection -- the witness's personal prejudices have no bearing on this
case."  Nouveaux Skunk's voice was sharp.
     Superuser jumped, startled.  "I didn't--"
     "The witness will please refer to the participants against his side as the
Revolutionaries," Trashman said.
     "Yeah, well... anyway, the troops were pretty well trained.  They fought
in small groups -- in fact, if it had been Bu- just the Revolutionaries against
the rank and file magi, without the greater number of Superguys on the Counter-
Revolution's side, they'd have walked all over us."
     The Masked Bruce nodded.  "Were you aware that Spandex Babe trained the
Revolutionaries in small-unit tactics and military protocol?"
     "Yeah.  I had heard that."
     The Masked Bruce paced.  "How many people did those troops kill?" he
asked.
     "Objection.  The actions of the other Revolutionaries, regardless of where
they were trained, are not germane to this case."
     "I think it's pretty damn germane, thank you," the Masked Bruce replied.
     "Counsel," Nouveaux Skunk said, rising.  "The Revolutionaries were armed
with rifles and pistols as well, but there has been no suggestion of Winchester
or Heckler and Koch being held responsible.  Spandex Babe did not train those
troops in morality or in propaganda.  The ends to which they took their
training are not her responsibility."
     "Objection sustained," Trashman said.  "Until shown otherwise through
testimony, it shall be assumed that Spandex Babe did not contribute to the
actions of those she trained."
     "Sir, I have to protest," the Masked Bruce said.  "Without that training,
the Revolutionaries--"
     "Would have been trained by Bulletproof, Unorthodox Girl, Marie or
Spectrum.  Or by the several military experts among them."  Nouveaux Skunk's
voice was chiding... almost patronizing.
     "Your protest is noted, Masked Bruce.  Please continue."
     The Masked Bruce visibly calmed himself.  "Superuser, did you see the
murder of Wilhelm?"
     "Objection.  Alleged murder."
     "Sustained.  The Prosecution will not ascribe a verdict before this trial
is complete."
     "Did you see the *alleged* murder of Wilhelm?"
     "No."
     "Where were you at that time?"
     "I was talking down Ginsu World Class."
     "What do you mean, talking down?"
     "Well, she was fighting on the Revolutionaries' side, and she was about to
kill this Mage, and I talked her back from the edge."
     "She was using lethal--"
     "*Objection*, Counsel.  If the witness was not present at the scene of the
alleged incident, his testimony has no bearing on this case."
     "If you'll just... excuse me.  If the Counsel will permit, the bearing of
my questions will become apparent."
     Trashman considered for a long moment.  "Would the Prosecution please
approach the bench?"
     The Masked Bruce looked startled, and slowly walked up to the three
Counsels.
     "Mike," Trashman said in a low voice, "where are you going with this?
What *are* you leading up to?"
     The Masked Bruce glanced back at Nouveaux Skunk, his eyes avoiding Spandex
Babe.  He turned back to Trashman.  "I'm trying to show that lethal force was,
you know, what they were all using.  That Superuser talked Ginsu World Class
out of it, but otherwise--"
     "I see.  Mike, I have to sustain the objection."
     "What?!  But--"
     "Keep your voice down," Trashman hissed.  "Mike, if I let that argument
through, Nouveaux Skunk would obliterate it and call for a mistrial -- or
whatever the proper term for this hearing is.  You'd lose right now.  I'm going
to close shop down for the day right after cross-examination.  I want you to
take tonight and *learn* from today.  Maybe tomorrow you'll have a better idea
of how to prosecute this thing."
     The Masked Bruce looked like he had been slapped, and stepped back a few
paces.
     "The objection is sustained," Trashman said.  "The Prosecution will
refrain from questions that do not bear on the case at hand."
     "No further questions," the Masked Bruce mumbled.  He walked back to his
lectern.
     "Is it my witness?" Nouveaux Skunk asked a little too brightly.
     The Masked Bruce nodded, eyes down.
     "Thank you.  Superuser, I have very little to ask of you today.  Frankly,
I'm not certain why you were called as a witness in the first place, since you
have no knowledge of Spandex Babe's activities during the Revolution save
through inadmissible hearsay, never to my knowledge directly confronted Spandex
Babe, and did not see the alleged incident occur.  So I hope you forgive me if
my questions are more theoretical and also few."
     "It's astounding how much of a capacity I have to forgive," Superuser
said, his voice slightly bitter.
     "Quite.  Did you have any contact or encounters with Spandex Babe during
the weeks before the Revolution or during the actual final battle?"
     "Only in my dreams."  There was a chuckle.
     Nouveaux Skunk smiled.  "I'll take that as a no.  Had you *any* contact
with Spandex Babe previous to these events?"
     "Just a few chance meetings -- at Superguy's funeral, for instance.  Never
anything concrete or substantial."
     "I see.  Do you have any insight into Spandex Babe's motivations?"
     "No, not really.  I can guess--"
     "Finally, do you feel lethal force is ever justified in our line of work."
     Superuser's head snapped up, the sarcasm gone from his face.  "No," he
said.  "There is never a--"
     "Never?" Nouveaux Skunk said, his eyebrows arched.  "Let me expand the
question, then.  Does any law enforcement official ever have justification to
employ lethal force in the line of duty?"
     "I don't think--"
     "Come, Superuser.  It's a simple question, with a simple answer, I'm sure.
We arm police officers with deadly weapons.  Surely there are times that we
expect them to use them and we must therefore expect them to kill with them.
Is that not so?"
     "Well, sure, but we aren't police officers."
     "What are we, then?  Reports indicate that the minor Seattle hero Ramrod
participated in the battle against Radian expressly for the purpose of killing
her before she destroyed the world.  Was he justified?"
     "I... can't answer that."
     "Why not?"
     "Because... because I'm not Ramrod -- for which I'm eternally grateful, by
the way.  Whatever his moral code is, it's not mine.  I could never take on a
mission where I knew I'd have to kill someone.  I just couldn't."
     Nouveaux Skunk nodded slowly.  "The same with someone like the She-Devil?"
     "Yeah.  The same."
     "But you wouldn't try to arrest them?  You are a superhero, and part of a
registered superheroic team, are you not?"
     "Well, yeah... I guess if they're acting in the line of duty--"
     "Let me try to summarize for you.  While you would not ever condone the
use of lethal force and you feel incapable of it yourself, you would not arrest
a comrade who employed it in the line of duty."
     Superuser thought for a long time.  "I guess," he said finally.  "But it's
still wrong."
     "Many things are in this world.  No further questions, Counsel."  Nouveaux
Skunk turned and walked back to his lectern.
     Trashman was pointedly looking at the Masked Bruce, and had been,
apparently, for quite some time.  The Masked Bruce was staring at his notes,
dully.  After a long pause, he spoke.  "It is the opinion of this Counsel that
due to the... strain of the last two witnesses, we recess this Council until
tomorrow -- if my comrades do not object?"
     The Dash shook her head.  "Not at all," Mighty Guy said.  "I've wanted
something to drink since--"
     "Objections from Prosecution or Defense?"
     "No objections, Chief Counsel," Nouveaux Skunk said.  The Masked Bruce
didn't look up.
     "Then this Council is in Recess."  Trashman struck his bell three times,
rose and left, the other two Counsels following.  In the gallery and in the
Council Chamber itself, people rose and murmured, talking among themselves.
     The Masked Bruce didn't move for quite some time.

                                   * * * * * *

     "This whole thing *bites*," Roger snapped.
     "Easy," Phobos said.  "It's just the first day--"
     "I know what day it is.  It doesn't change anything.  This whole thing
stinks to high heaven.  They're going to let her off!"
     "We don't know that," said a quiet, Awesome voice.  The Teen Team as one
turned.  Summer fainted again.
     "Mister Awesome," Daydream Believer breathed.
     "Please, call me Andy.  Young Ghost, I understand your feelings in this
matter -- but remember that one day of testimony does not indicate the whole of
the trial.  There is much time still to go."
     "I guess," Roger said, stunned at the direct, awesome attention he was
receiving.
     Not far away, Superuser met his comrades.  "Hey folks," he said.  "I need
a Yoo Hoo more than life."
     "You did quite well, I thought," Wonder Grunion said.
     "YES!  I WAS VERY PROUD OF YOU!" ! said in a confidential bellow.
     "I hope I do half as well tomorrow," Ginsu World Class said.
     "Really?" Smartman said.  "Odd -- I was hoping you did at least twice as
well.  Come along, and don't speak to any reporters."  He began marching out.
     Superuser watched him go.  "Would anyone care if I killed him?" he asked.
     ! looked confused.  "I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T EVER TAKE A JOB THAT
MEANT KILLING," he said.  "THAT WAS UNDER OATH!  YOU COULDN'T HAVE BEEN LYING
UNDER OATH!"
     "It was a joke," Superuser said.  "Come on, I've done enough damage for
one day."
     In the back of the room, one man smiled slightly.  He looked nondescript
enough, but he had as much or more stake in the trial as anyone.
     "Can you believe what a yutz that Masked Bruce is?" the woman next to him
said.  "There were at least four times during Nouveaux Skunk's cross-
examination of Superuser that he could have objected, and he never did."
     "I noticed," Spectrum replied.  `One day down, Spandex Babe,' he thought.
`and you've got them on the run.  Enjoy the feeling -- you deserve it.'

                                   * * * * * *

     Dianna clicked the recorder off.  She felt horrible.  She had hoped
talking about the day's testimony would have helped, but it hadn't.  Rather
than being cathartic, it had pointed out how little control she had over the
whole bloody proceedings.  Nouveaux Skunk was fighting for her -- fighting a
pyrrhic battle at best.  The Masked Bruce was fighting against her and being
ripped to shreds over it.  Trashman had to balance it all and the team was
caught in the middle.
     The only one of them who had no part to play was Dianna herself.  It was
all about her, but she had no control over it at all.
     "I didn't mean to kill him," she whispered into her drink.  If she said it
enough, she might even believe it.

WILL SHE BELIEVE IT?
WILL SHE WIN THE CASE?
WILL THE MASKED BRUCE HAVE A BETTER DAY TOMORROW?
CAN SABRE WRITE A *HAPPY* ORIGIN STORY?
WHAT ABOUT FRIGID GIRL AND KID ELECTRON?
WHAT ABOUT BOB?


The answers, as always, are stored in the Author's fevered brain.  Sooner or
later he'll post them to Superguy.  He always does....