Avenger Assembled

Fala had a lot to say about that, something of a dissertation in fact on the divine right of kings and how it played out on this gorilla-dominated planet. He didn't do more than yell, though, and right now his kingly rage wasn't the most important thing in the room. Sir Connor, his lined face hard to read as he clutched an arrow-pierced leg, shook his head. "You would have to take us beyond the confines of the Empire," he said gravely. "In any land where gorilla law rules, news of a peasant revolt would bring armies marching from miles away. Especially with the king alive." He sounded sick of the whole matter, but of course in his half-donned armor and with his serious wound, there was nothing he could do about it. "And if those armies march," said Bonda, looking from his wounded knight to the chimps outside with obviously divided loyalties, "their serfs will rise as well. The Empire is dead," he added, in a voice too quiet for the still-ranting monarch to hear, shooting a look of obvious venom at the king, who had turned his back on the unhelpful heroes to shout insults at the chimps down below. From the sounds on the first floor, the surviving gorilla warriors had barricaded the doors and were making preparations for a last stand.

Particularly in a superheroic genre, it's common to imagine oneself as a righteous crusader for justice in any reality save the ones where the good guys by nature are bad guys by nature instead. But history tells us that things usually don't work that way; heroes by nature are exceptional people, of course, and not typically subject to these laws of narrative, but most people are the way they are because of the society where they grew up. Faced with brutal dictatorship, people who were heroes in happier times may find that they were forced to make some grimmer choices on other Earths. If anyone's feeling depressed enough to speculate like this, go right ahead! SOLDAT Sharl Tulink and the inhabitants of Tronik were very lucky on our world. On others? On Erde, the Ubermensch rescued the inhabitants of Tronik from the Curator almost by accident, wresting their hard drive from the Curator's burning ship while hunting for salvage in low orbit. (The whole world is Kal-Zed's, but he still enjoys getting his hands dirty with some alien scum.) Believing they'd successfully transported themselves to an alien world, the citizens of Tronik soon began to realize how much peril they were in as bizarre accidents rippled through the city: millions of people disappeared in flashes of light, leaving just their clothes behind, while sky and ocean warped and buckled as they watched. Their outlook was grim, and the general consensus (from the city's surviving scientists) was that they had accidentally transported themselves to an unstable parallel dimension. At least, that's what they thought until the first giant face loomed in the sky and a startled exclamation in German filled all their minds. All this time, they'd been helpless; their lost people and warped city a product of clumsy, inexpert computer tampering. The discovery of what they were, computer programs in the captivity of a brutal, primitive alien civilization, was grim enough to drive some inhabitants of Tronik to suicide: luckily, that was before one scientist discovered how to reverse the death algorithims and bring stored programs back to life. Others became test subjects for fascinated computer programmers across the Reich, the lives and deaths of sentient programs from Tronik helping pave the way for new leaps and bounds in German artificial intelligence. The inhabitants of Tronik, those not taken away for research, learned to live under the watchful eye of their organic masters and to embrace the world they'd been given. Sharl Tulink dreamed of more than life as a slave for himself and his family, one whose life, death, and very soul is in the hands of his masters, and so 'volunteered' among other boys in his gymnasium for a chance to see the world outside. The resistance has many computer networks blooming now, and what better than a program to destroy and infiltrate those systems? He survived extraction and alteration, and as Soldat, the computer warrior, he joined a group of Reich-trained teens as part of a new generation of Aryan defenders. Sometimes he feels guilt, terrible crippling guilt in his room in a hard drive in their base, but it's not like he's ever had to really hurt anybody: he's a hacker, not a killer. And other times, deep down, he feels nothing but disgust for this planet and its so-called civilization, where even kings and gauletiers live worse than the inhabitants of Tronik-That-Was. This is a vile planet of savage aliens, what does he care what they do to each other as long as his people are protected? There are thirty million inhabitants of Tronik whose lives depend on his every move, on his unswerving loyalty and his defense of the Reich. He can't fail them. Whatever the cost. He's their only champion.

"I did no such thing!" exclaimed Terra-King. "I came to pick her up for her date, and when I arrived she fainted for some reason!" He patted the giant beetle's head affectionately, like a man would a large, favorite dog. "I was concerned, but I couldn't take her to some surfacer hospital! Who knows what might have happened, or what your PARANOID minds might have suspected?" "You...you had a date?" asked Citizen, more baffled at the concept than the absurdity that Terra-King himself had a date: the man was odd, but he'd met plenty of odd people, and criminal though he was, who was Sharl to say what people here might think was attractive. The logistics were the real strange part. "Yyes, I have an OKCupid account," admitted the king as Dr. Rao began to rouse under Miss Americana's ministrations, looking concernedly at her. "I may have omitted a few things, but..."

The alien and the computer projection met up at the rear entrance to the Old Mission, the one that faced an equally deserted warehouse and had no working lights overhead. The dark and stillness of the abandoned neighborhood was a little intimidating, but surely there were no serious threats here to a Kinigosi warrior and her holographic buddy! Sharl nodded a cordial hello at Indira's arrival, by now at least a little used to the shapeshifting alien girl and her ever-fluid body. Maybe he hadn't grown up with people like that, but he'd certainly made an exhaustive study of her teammate now that they'd be working together. "Wraith," he said with a nod, not wanting to betray who the shapeshifter was when they weren't exactly on a standard patrol. After some consideration, he donned his shades (though not his chest symbol), since they didn't actually impede his vision at all in this artificial world. "Koshiro should be here momentarily."

Cannonade's blow to 'Dog of War's' midsection seemed to drive the last of the fight out of the already-flagging Unifiers: the Flaming Feminist called out something in gutteral Latin, bringing both the Hebrew Hammer and her canine companion to her side before she hissed sharply at the heroes. "This isn't over!" Despite her tough talk, as they disappeared in a gout of hellish flame, it certainly did look over: they'd fled and left their putative leader behind, the Unifier himself still stretched out and groaning on the field, abandoning a field mostly clear of civilians (now that the white supremacists had taken off) to the heroes, along with the question of just what had happened to Aryan Angel. For his part, as soon as the Hammer was gone, Edge hurried over to join the others by the trailer. "I think the civilians are all away, or almost all of them. As soon as the real super-fight started, Higgins' goons grabbed him and dragged him out of harm's way. They may be ignorant, but they're not stupid." He shook his head, then looked around, sniffing the air. "You guys figured out what's smoking, right? Besides Midnight, obviously."

"I didn't do ANYTHING!" exclaimed the king of the Sub-Terrans guiltily, stepping back at Miss Americana's approach to let her view the unconscious Dr. Rao. Citizen took this opportunity to appear as well, drifting up through the floor and startling the Sub-Terrans: luckily they were too focused on their king and the awesome power of Gaian Knight (not to mention the lovely-voiced Miss Americana) to panic or go on the offensive. On closer inspection, Rao wasn't quite unconscious, but she was pale and sweating, close to going into shock, and stared up at Miss Americana with wide eyes. "Miss A..." With nothing coming up on Miss A's scanner, it looked like Rao had simply fainted. "Ohhh..." exclaimed the Terra-King, pulling nervously at his hair. "Is she all right? I'm a geologist, not a medical doctor! I was trying to get her to the medical machines below in my mighty stronghold!"

"He transformed after being shot, ma'am," said Citizen respectfully, Sharl casting an uneasy look around the campus of the sinister-looking school. There was something unsettling about the way those trees came right up to the edge of the school's property line, the unnatural merger of civilization and primeval forest a suggestion that the school had grown right out of the forest itself. He tried to tell himself that it was just his urban instincts talking, and that there were no monsters waiting in that forest. After all, as he'd seen again and again in his science classes and on his trips to Wharton Forest with Miss Americana, despite what they'd seen in the Canadian woods, not every forest harbored savage monsters. He kept a firm grip on his projector case anyway, walking over to talk politely to the two adults as he kept an eye out for any students about. With Mr. Summers' permission, he went on. "He seemed to lose control of his body and mind in the same moment. We had injuries, and we were lucky no bystanders were hurt."

"I'm not comfortable letting anyone die if we can help it," said Citizen uneasily. "If the king dies in the revolt, that's one thing; but if someone comes to us for help we've got to do something for them, even if it's just relocating them away from the fighting. I...hey, wait!" He slapped his forehead, hefting his projector. "You guys, the Pegasus crew!" They found the Pegasus crew in the rooms nearby, the civilians obviously frightened but willing to stick by the heroes. It was a little odd to have adults defer to their judgement, but after all they were 'playing' adult Freedom League members and so couldn't avoid using their age to get out of this situation. After that, they headed for the keep as the fighting in the courtyard raged on. There was quite a melee going on at the gateway to the keep when they got there, chimpanzee and gorilla forces in the courtyard locked in a deadly struggle. The chimps had managed, by weight of sheer numbers and ferocity, to push the gorillas back against the heavy wooden doors, but things were looking grim all around: bodies littered the courtyard of both sides, and neither side was giving much quarter either way. Gorilla families were huddling behind what few noncombatant men were there, along with three very familiar faces: a wounded Sir Connor was there, his squire at his side yet, while King Fala was ranting through a window. "I am overlord of this demense! You will all pay for this blasphemy!"

Sub-Terrans were blind, of course, a legacy of their millennia of life underground, as was their surface-born king Jerris Trent. They might not have gotten much from the lovely Miss Americana, but as Gaian Knight casually shaped the very flesh and blood of their universe with his own doughty abilities, they knew that a mighty foe had arrived! Though some reflexively surrounded their king, raising spears and other weapons to defend his person, others began running around screaming in high-pitched voices as if the very end of days was upon them! (And indeed, by a close listen, they were indeed shouting something just like that in their own language.) Terra-King, standing protectively over the fallen body of Dr. Rao, raised his staff in warning and called out nasally, "Keep back! This is my realm, and I am armed with mighty weapons!" He seemed to hesitate, his hand shaking. "Un...nless one of you is a doctor!"

Eventually the cops came and took the Clown Constructor off Bishop's hands, the hero having so thoroughly cowed the odious villain that he'd offered no successful resistance. They locked up the equipment before they left, leaving the high-tech stuff securely out of the hands of the local trailer park folks, though they were more than happy to leave the ultimate authority in the hands of the nearby superhero. Meanwhile, Arleen was pacing. "Scared!" she said, spreading her arms wide. "You know how hard it is to find jobs when all your skills used to be hitting people with big hammers and hiding out from the cops? I do medical billing, so I can work from home anywhere we go, but if this gets back to my boss I might be in even bigger trouble. Ex-supervillains are as bad as ex-cons, except most ex-cons don't have crazy clown bastards kicking down the door of where you work looking for you."

All right, that will thoroughly wreck the equipment on stage as well as the cameraphones from those few audience members who haven't fled. (The Unifiers used Fucastrega's hell-teleporting to get there rather than any tech of their own, so the only equipment wrecked was what belonged to the white supremacists already there. Oh, what a, uh, horrible tragedy. Trevor has just enough Notice to get pertinent information from the Teleport Trace, though unfortunately Aryan Angel is beyond the reach of Teleport 4: Aryan Angel was definitely teleported out of there, there are no secret passageways or anything like that. (Trevor can tell that she went beyond his capacity to follow with what he has on hand, it's not a matter of inadequate detection but superior power). He'll have to bust out the more advanced teleport sensors to get an idea of culprits. He and Erin both notice a distinct smell of acrid smoke from underneath the trailer, like burning electronics. It's not something Erin missed, it's something that specifically started just before his arrival. Cannonade is up, after Midnight goes IC. (I will probably end combat after Cannonade goes)

APPROVED Sorry for the delay!

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Citizen put his hands on the stone window sill, only half-able to feel the rough work beneath his hands, the electronic projection as unreal in the simulation as he was outside in the 'real world'. This was an alien place, made more so by the strange simian beings below them, and he honestly wasn't sure what to do at first. He thought of Miss Americana, and tried to think how she'd handle this. "We need to get down where we can see what's going on, and talk to them if we can. If we fly in and monitor the situation, we can keep the revolution from turning bloody." He looked at the other two boys, trying to see if his words made sense. "We can't just sit up here while people are fighting and dying, but we can't take sides either. Right?"

Okay, Midnight is up.

Erin can see no sign anyone else was in the trailer, nor is there any hint Aryan Angel is still in the trailer. It looks like Aryan Angel walked into the trailer and disappeared as soon as she was out of sight of everyone else. Erin knows what that's called. She knows what you call those people.

Okay, this will take some time, but she can do it in a fight as long as no one targets her. (And she has movement enough that she can leap back into the fray if something very bad happens, though it'll cost her). DC 25: There are signs of footprints leading right up to the trailer and a dirt mark right on the front steps, but then they abruptly stop: it's as if she didn't even put one foot down before going away. It looks like she stepped into the trailer and behind the door, then vanished.

Electra, Robert, and I are visiting friends this weekend, so access will be spotty.

Koshiro's hasty fiction seemed to soothe the gorilla's suspicions, and soon all three of the travelers from Freedom City were lodged in what was by local standards a lush suite: a big room with wall hangings of heroic gorilla warriors fighting giant dragons, a massive bed big enough for three humans or two gorillas, and even a private bathroom that dumped out right outside the castle walls. Though all three of them were curious about where they were, the internal sensors in the exercise told them they'd been active for hours and were all ready for bed. It was something of a railroad, but violating the internal logic of the scenario would make all this a waste of time. The next morning, at least in theory, the scenario would restart and they'd be taking the scientists out to pick up the fallen spaceplane. Koshiro and Corbin bedded down for the 'night', deciding between the two of them where they'd sleep, while Sharl rolled his eyes and took up space in his emitter. Time rolled by fast as the internal clock sped up in the night, just like a Sims game where the protagonists were sleeping. Suddenly, though, the Moon visible outside the window came to a dead stop, and the heroes heard a noise coming from below: many noises. There were sounds of screaming and blows from the castle and courtyard beneath, hasty orders and shouts to arms , and from the courtyard a steady chant that resolved itself into one word. "REAP! REAP! REAP!" Down below, there was a battle taking place: a small coterie of gorilla knights in half-donned armor were under heavy assault by a large group of black-clad chimpanzees wielding scythes, swords, and other refurbished instruments: the castle gate was down and wedged down by a wagon, the body of the gate guard visible nearby. There were already bodies in the courtyard, gorilla and chimp alike. Suddenly, on a wagon in the courtyard, a simian figure appeared familiar to Koshiro especially. Hannibal waved a broadsword high. "MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS!" he called to the fighting chimps. "TODAY IS THE DAY WE TAKE THIS CASTLE AND OUR FREEDOM WITH IT! WE SHALL REAP THE POISONED GRAIN OF MONARCHY AND HARVEST A FUTURE FOR OURSELVES AND OUR CHILDREN AS FREE APES! REAP! REAP! REAP!" The cry went up among the chimps again and the rebellious peasants resumed their attack on the shrinking knot of knights.

Why study public history?

Suitably intimidated by Bishop's arrival, especially with his equipment in a bad way in the wake of Miss Americana's arrival, the Clown Constructor sat back and tried to look like the master of the situation, but the way he flinched at Bishop's every glance more than ruined the impression. "Oh yeah? Well, I'll...I'll get out of jail one day," he dared, "but you'll still have that eye!" Evidently Melvin had gotten his potty mouth from his dad, but what was mildly annoying from a child was downright pathetic from an adult supervillain. Well, villain anyway; Miss A hadn't been exaggerating about the pizza boxes and Cheetos. With sirens sounding distantly, it looked like Melvin's dad hadn't left the place in a while.

"Why don't you two try diplomacy?" suggested Citizen, shooting a glance at the others. "I can come up through the floor and take them by surprise, since I don't make any vibrations coming up through the floor." He'd taken the time on the way down to figure out exactly how it was all the Sub-Terrans saw down there. "If they don't start a fight, I can just come up through the floor like nothing happened." Since Miss A could communicate with him via computer link either way, Citizen went into action, disappearing into the walls and flying down slowly and carefully (since he couldn't see where he was going) to get close to the Sub-Terrans and their anxious king.

Unifier struggled in Cannonade's grip, thrashing and cursing, before suddenly going limp: while the helmeted hero had been meaning to subdue his enemy rather than simply knock him out, evidently Unifier's rage and fury had been enough to knock himself out. Up close, the putative UN 'hero' smelled faintly of cheap liquor and cigarettes. This close, with the man in a headlock, there was something naggingly familiar about the other man, as if it was a ghost of something from Cannonade's own past inside the costume. Inside the smoke, Dog of War rose to his feet on a sharp command from the Flaming Feminist and disappeared in a puff of smoke, reappearing outside the cloud of midnight mist, visibly shrugging his furry shoulders before reappearing next to the scantily-clad woman who was evidently his master. Screaming a curse that was foul enough to darken the already smoke-filled air around her, she raised her hands and fired a blast of scorching black flame that seemed to ignite the mist around her, pushing the smoke cloud away from the supervillains on stage (and far enough from the heroes that it didn't obscure their vision either). So the hellfire seen earlier had come from her! With the cloud cleared, Hebrew Hammer ignored the others and leapt from the stage, swinging a giant hammer at Edge that just missed his head. He wasn't playing around the way the others were: he'd focused on Wander, Midnight, and then Edge before picking the latter, and the massive blow that nearly took off Mark's head had certainly been in deadly earnest. Letting the bad guy focus on him rather than the now-rallying civilians, Edge sneered as he let a wall of earth rise up from the ground all around him. "Come on, try it again! At least the real Donar could actually fight!" From the stage came a cry from Flaming Feminist. "Where the hell IS she?"