🚀 go-pugleaf

(continued from part two...)

                                   ***********

     "This," said DEATHKNIGHT 3000, with as much incredulity as a super hero of
his caliber could muster, which was a lot, frankly, "is ridiculous."
     What Wilton 'Pinky' Smith felt compelled to dub ridiculous was in fact not
the battle raging at the Bob City Correctional Facility, or the burning moral,
ethical and social issues over which the battle was being waged, or even the
tremendous amounts of angst the battle's participants were experiencing, which
would have been enough to register on angst meters as far removed as Rush
Limbaugh's point of view, if indeed such things as angst meters or Rush
Limbaugh actually existed.
     No, what Pinky thought was ridiculous was the damage that some of the
more powerful weapons and magical energies from the battle had done to the
nearby Bob City Thruway (Best Byway in Bob), which had caused a massive
traffic jam that Pinky, Captain Non-Sequitor, Mr. Safety and Deadman had the
bad luck to blunder into. They were about a quarter of a mile from the prison
and going nowhere fast.
     "I can't believe," Pinky continued, "that we allowed ourselves to become
trapped out here just because Thieftaker has a taste for an obscure and hard
to find brand of English tea, that doesn't keep well in rainy environments. I
think she just made that part up so we'd forced to leave Bob to find some."
     "Maybe her lug nuts are glued too tightly to her doormat!" offered Captain
Non-Sequitor, who, for the last half hour, had been attempting to attach a
battery and a large collection of light emitting diodes to the front of his
shirt, in deference to Mr. Safety's many quotations of electrical safety
regulations.
     "You think she was trying to get rid of us for a while?  That's silly:
why would she want to do that?"
     Pinky turned to the back seat to face Captain Non-Sequitor just in time to
see him connect the power to the diodes, at which point the words "Love me,
love my bagpipes" began scrolling repeatedly across his chest in bright red
letters.
     "Forget I asked," Pinky grumbled, turning back around.
     DEATHKNIGHT 3000 glowered over dash at the car in front of him, half
listening to Mr. Safety inform a motorist to their left that his hairpiece was
made of potentially flammable materials.  A few minutes passed before he
noticed a shadow form over the hood.  Pinky watched it grow steadily larger,
and then watched the front of his car become crushed under a large granite
boulder, which had evidently been responsible for casting the shadow in the
first place.
     Captain Non-Sequitor leapt out of the car and began painting the boulder
bright pink.  Mr. Safety got out and began drafting a letter to the Ford Motor
Company about the inadequate protection their cars provided against surprise
boulder attacks.  Pinky decided it might be prudent to check the skies for
other boulders, just in case this one had company.
     Strangely enough, it did, though the other boulders ended up in a field
next to the Thruway where they caused relatively little harm.  What Pinky and
the others didn't know was that these flying boulders were the result of a
levitation spell gone awry, the mage who cast it having improperly judged the
distance they were to have travelled.
     It was then that Pinky saw the prison, just beyond the edge of the field.
He also saw the fighting, though from his position it was impossible to see
exactly who was involved.  Mr. Safety noticed it too and walked up to Pinky's
side to watch it with him.  Captain Non-Sequitor joined them presently -- on a
unicycle.
     "You know," Pinky began, "we could just ignore it and go call a tow-
truck.  Nobody would know we were here.  They might not even need us."
     Pinky turned to Mr. Safety, who looked at him with the unshakable
conviction of a man determined not to miss any opportunity to hand out safety
citations.  Pinky then turned to Captain Non-Sequitor, who looked at him with
the unshakable conviction of a man determined to plant a victory garden in his
underpants.
     "Aright already," Pinky groaned, "let's check it out."
     "Wait!" cried Captain Non-Sequitor, pointing to the rear of Pinky's car,
"What about the turnips in the sledgehammer?"
     "Deadman?" Pinky replied, "Sure, might as well bring him along, I suppose.
Just let me pop the trunk."

                                   ***********

     The Awesome Force One rested with confident security in the sky. It
mingled with the clouds, comparing its long, sleek, continuous lines with the
playful, leap-frogging curves and convexes shaped by the shorter and more
diverse lines of the clouds' vaporous skins.
     It had a brief but intense affair with the sun. His heat and passion
reflecting off the gleaming awesomeantium flesh before it's light and lust
slipped regretfully behind the clouds.
     The three persons inside the aerodynamic lover had no knowledge of the
illicit affair their airship was carrying on.  Anne, the pretty one with the
red hair and hazel eyes, did remark on how unusually slow the sun seemed to be
rising this morning, though.
     Anne Enger was considered short by many people.  When Chris Enger looked
into her eyes for the very first time, the one thing about her that did not
cross his mind was that he was looking down at them.  Falling into them did
cross his mind once or twice.  Or three times.  Her dark red hair was long
with attractively loose and unruly curls balancing on her shoulders.  Her
eyes, deep and brown, as we have already noticed, were also always open. Not
just the out-of-bed-looking-for-that-cup-of-coffee-as-well-as-incentive-to-
stay-awake open, but an absorb-every-detail-around-me open. Saying Anne was
alert would be denying her her worth.
     Chris would be the same way if he took his eyes off the computer every
once in a while to actually see something of the world to absorb.  "I have
Anne," he would say, "what else in the world do I need to see?"  Ah yes, Chris
enjoyed the fine aspects of his life.  As far as Anne was concerned, well, she
was heaven, but even heaven needs it's distractions.  That's where his
computer finesse enters his life, and the lives of others.  In the covered
bridges and bough-shaded lanes of the internet he lurks, waiting for the
corproated fat cat or amateur hacker to abuse the net in anyway and mete out
his own brand of electronic justice. If the Information Superhighway had a
highwayman, it would be Chris.
     Anne stood behind Chris's seated body.  She was admiring the view from
the airship.  They were very low right now, low enough to make out certain
conspicuous figures in the crowd below them, including Spectrum, Radian,
Spandex Babe, Mighty Dog, and Andy Awesome.  It was his idea to bring the
Awesome Force One this low.  It was supposed to put the fear of Authors into the
revolutionaries.  Apparently it worked. They were gathered at the edge of their
camp, but no one was advancing.  They kept glancing to the sky, wondering what
the next move would be.  Chris's communications monitoring revealed the
revolutionaries were lacking any formidable air support, although the
long-range scanners had been picking up some sort of vague fuzziness to
the western side of the city for the past few minutes.  The automated
systems had dismissed it as line noise generated by an approaching storm,
and had recommended a maintenance diagnostic of the starboard arrays.  Chris
had been a bit more suspicious, but the patterns didn't even vaguely match
any sort of ECM or jamming system used anywhere in the entire Altverse.
     Damien walked onto the Brain.  Anne noticed he was very relaxed.  The
most relaxed he's been since Andy told Chris to set the course for Bob.
     "What's up, lovebirds, enjoying the sunrise?"
     "We're wondering what's going to happen next," Chris said.
     "If they were smart, they'd retreat.  They've got a spike of solid
awesometonium the size of a corinthium column pointed at them," said Damien
assessing the situation accurately.  He looked around, noticing something was
missing.
     "Cats?" he asked.
     "I asked them to wait in the trauma room," Anne answered.  "I figured
they'd be needed there."
      "Good thinking," Damien said, throwing his arms out wide and
stretching his upper torso.  "I don't know if it's really necessary anymore,
though."
     His left arm broke in half when he puled it back to his body.
     The Awesome Force One shook epileptically as it bore the full brunt of
the ship that appeared infront of them suddenly and without warning.

                                   ***********

     Part of Shadebeam screamed that she shouldn't be here, she wasn't a hero,
that she should be doing what she usually did in these situations, that is,
run away very, very briskly.  In fact, most of her was screaming this at her.
If her sister hadn't been in the middle of it all, she likely would have been
gone by now.
     She saw Radian suddenly, for a brief second, as she twisted in the air
to avoid a hail of bullets from one of the towers.  Then she was gone again,
as Burnout swooped in to keep up the attack.
     A sudden, intense craving for a cigarette hit Shadebeam.  Snarling, she
cast a fireball spell that, to her complete astonishment, produced an actual
fireball.  She hadn't really expected it to happen, so she hadn't gone so far
as aiming, and the fireball flew wide to the right, narrowly missing someone
in a suit of armor (there seemed to be rather a lot of them flying about, and
Shadebeam wished she had a scorecard to tell them apart) who was swooping in
towards a group of bubbas.  Shadebeam thought she saw Unorthodox Lass and/or
Girl running amidst them, waylaying mages with a hula hoop.
     The short, blonde hairs on the back of Shadebeam's neck prickled, and
she looked up.  Despite the battle, she found herself unable to move.
     A ship was descending through the dissipating clouds, a ship far bigger
than even the Awesome Force One, with which it was presently colliding.
     It was huge -- monsterously huge.  It bristled with fierce weaponry and
evil intent.  The M.E.C.H.A. jet looked like a spec, against the sight of it.
     -Bloody hell,- Andro said, looking out of the backpack.  -You can see
the frigging brush strokes.-

                                   ***********

     Wilhelm looked around himself.  It was all happening.  He had hung back,
not wanting to go in, until he realized he was on the field where he had seen
himself die in the vision.  It was all happening!  The sky was burning with the
dawn, the night clouds were burning off!  It was dawn!  A new day -- a new era,
and it was going to kill him!
     And then he turned, and he saw the dead oak tree and the armored figure in
it.  The figure took a careful aim, and Wilhelm knew he was dead.  There was no
hope, no way to--
     There was a sharp crack, and Wilhelm's eyes slammed shut.  He waited for
the impact, as the bullet ripped his head apart.
     After a few seconds, he realized it was a pretty slow bullet.
     He opened his eyes.
     The tree had been shattered.  It was burning in places.  The armored
figure was on the ground, trying to get back up.
     And a man was limping towards the figure.  He was a heavy-set man, with a
beard.
     And he looked pissed.

                                   ***********

     As the giant Dalek battlecruiser appeared in the skies, many combatants
on both sides took notice of the large shadow and thought at first that the
sun had gone behind a cloud.  When they saw what it really was, there was some
fear and a great deal of consternation.  When it began to fire on Awesome
Force One, there was more fear and a great deal more consternation on one side,
but rising spirits on the other.  The Big Guns had arrived--just let those
magic-users try and stop us now!
     Link looked up into the sky with a good deal of apprehension as he keyed
the radio transciever in his armor helmet.  "G'day, Bruce," he said over the
secure, scrambled channel to the M.E.C.H.A. jet.  "Er, Dr. Science.
Contingency maneuver 7G-no, on my position, twenty meters by thirty degrees."
     "Confirmed," Dr. Science replied.  "Beginning pass now."  On the flight
deck of the jet, Dr. Science leaned over the empty pilot's seat to punch some
instructions into the flight computer, then stepped back to one of the
auxiliary stations which had been configured as Contingency Operations.
Keying in the necessary instructions, Odd gripped the joystick and waited.
When the crosshairs aligned...there.  Dr. Science punched the trigger key.
     Something shot out of a port on the lower left side of the transport jet.
It described a parabolic arc over the battlefield, was shot at once or twice by
Revolutionaries, and finally slowed its descent and touched down on twin
trails of thruster fire.
     Lincoln Douglas ran over to the cubical Cyclone, stripped the two
disposable rocket thrusters off the sides, and quickly unfolded it.  "Thanks,
Bruce!  G'day!"
     "Er...g'day," Dr. Science replied, not quite sure how to get into the
spirit of this Monty Python thing.

                                   ***********

     "WE ARE DETECTED!!"  a lifeless Dalek voice shrieked across the 2402's
bridge, in response to a sudden maneuver by Awesome Force One.
     "Open fire, all batteries!" Benedict stabbed a large switch with his
plunger-arm. "Land Units, deploy and exterminate!  Deploy and exterminate!!"
     Abandoning all attempts at stealth, Imperial Dalek Cruiser 2402 chopped
her lift, dropping out through the cloud layer like a brick.  Minuscule salt-
shaker-shaped specks plummeted from her underside as she turned slowly and
sluggishly to one side, bringing her entire port broadside to bear on the
airship that seemed tiny by comparison to it's assailant.  The massive volley
of energy-weapons fire that converged on the cylindrical Earth vehicle hardly
seemed fair.  But then, nobody had ever accused Daleks of fighting fair.
     The Awesome Force One shook as the first of the beams struck its side,
then vanished in a could of smoke and fire as it bore the full brunt of a
broadside capable of reducing small naval task forces to scrap metal.  Missiles
sizzled into the cloud, their seeker heads locked onto a target only visible
to the most advanced of sensors.  And even these were blinded by the earth-
shaking detonations of multiple heavy Dalekanium warheads soaking into a
Passive Absurdity field and deflecting off of Awesomeantium-permeated cloth.
     "Target obscured!" called the droid at the primary gunnery station.
     "Do not be misled!" answered Benedict, "There is a 90% probability
that the target has maintained structural integrity!"
     "No target that size could withstand..."
     "Negative!" Benedict cut off the droid's complaint harshly, "The target
is protected by Awesomeantium!  Reset all guns to sequential fire!"
     Benedict was right- deep within the pillars of smoke and fire, the Awesome
Force One still lived.  It's back unbroken, the airship rode the waves of heat
and turbulence like an wild horse.  But damage had been done- although the
hull had not yet been breached, the force of the impacts had been more than
enough to do serious internal damage.

                                   ***********

     Anne bent over Damien who had dropped to one knee and was trying to pull
the shard of metal that had flown from the ceiling out of his arm.
     "Don't touch it!" shouted Anne.
     "What am I supposed to do, keep it as a souvenir?" Damien said through
gritted teeth.
     "Holy Author!" shouted Chris as he struggled against the jerking controls
to take control of the airship.  Their enemy could only be described as a
monstrosity with guns.  Lots and lots of guns, conveniently pointed at them.
     Their view was filled with bright staccato light as their sudden nemesis
fired another salvo. The ship wrenched and buckled like a collapsing bridge in
high wind.

                                   ***********

     "We're having trouble.  Big time trouble."  Jeanne Marie sounded tense,
her thick accent not clouding her meaning.
     "I know," Figuremaster said.  "The Magistrate's down, Spandex Babe and
Ginsu World Class are cutting us to shreds, and we've lost most of our chain of
command."
     "It's worse... that other one, the Unorthodox Girl?"
     "Lass."
     "Pardon.  She is fighting like a wildcat.  We have many injuries from her
-- none lethal, but it is a matter of time."
     "Right," Powell said, casting a rite to protect himself.  "I'll take her
out -- but we need heavy support against Ginsu World Class or we're toast."
     "People are on it."
     "And that Spandex bitch?"  Jeanne Marie asked.
     "I'll try and take her down," Figuremaster said.  "But she's lower
priority.  She plays by the rules -- she won't use lethal force.  I wouldn't
think Ginsu would either... but I'm not so sure, now.  Move it."

(continued in part four, following...)