The Magistracy's Baby

[csyphrett]

In the three earlier stories about the Magistracy, a team of heroes have assembled under the auspices of protecting the world for the UN. They have repeled an invasion, dealt with a mercenary, and fought off an invasion of their headquarters by test tube superhumans. They have learned of a connection between the mercenary and the test tube villains.

 

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

1

 

Jerry Silver frowned at the drawings in the middle of his friend's room. He had promised to be silent while the ceremony was going on. Impatience made him grit his teeth while he waited.

 

Light flared across the conjoined letters as the Chemist wrote different meanings to fine-tune for what he wanted. Concentration froze his face behind the sunglasses he wore. One of his words snapped in two as he tried to write it. He shook his head, letting the complicated drawing die.

 

"Did you get a lead?," Silver asked, toying with a cigarette. Nonsmokers had become the bane of his existence in the last year or so.

 

"Maybe," said the Chemist, standing. He smudged out the chalk outline with his foot as he considered his reply. "I couldn't find anything to tie Stafford with the mad doctor, but I did find a trace of magic leading into Virginia. I'll have to investigate a little more to see if it's a valid link. That other magician has covered their tracks well, almost erasing them."

 

"Take John Public with you," said Silver. "We need to find out who's behind this before they wreck the Tower."

 

"This shouldn't take long," said the Chemist. "I can handle it on my own."

 

"Take him," said Silver, frowning. "No one goes alone until we bag this guy. There will be no more ambushes where one of us is out of contact and we don't have some idea what's going on. No exceptions, no arguments."

 

"I'll let him know," said the Chemist.

 

"And don't try and take off without him," Silver said, putting the cigarette in his mouth. "There's too much to do besides tracking down any lone wolves trapped somewhere."

 

"I understand," said the Chemist, who had been thinking of ditching the other magistrate and riding a letter to the mainland. He didn't expect to be so transparent in his intentions.

 

"Go do what you got to do," said Silver. "I'm hoping Maker came up with something we can use to indicate if there is a pattern to these connected attacks."

 

"This might not be anything at all," said the Chemist.

 

"Then do it faster so we can be sure and look somewhere else," said Silver, leading the way to the operations center. "I hate being a sitting duck."

 

"Going," said the Chemist.

 

The magician spotted John Public straightening his suit jacket and tie while watching Maker work her magic through the world's computer systems. One hand was on her metallic shoulder as he watched through her eyes.

 

"John, come with me, will you?," said the Chemist, regretting what he was doing. The two were becoming lovers. He didn't want to separate them. "We have a job on shore."

 

"Hon?," John asked Maker.

 

"Don't worry," said Maker, voice abstract. "I can snoop just as well if you aren't here."

 

"I'll be back as soon as I can," said Public, pulling his hand away. "Where are we going, Chemist?"

 

"Virginia," said the magician. "I hope to dig up some way to find Stafford at least."

 

"Let's do it," said John.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

2

 

 

The Chemist and John Public appeared out of thin air. A few pigeons noticed their arrival but nothing else did. The magician adjusted his sunglasses as he looked around.

 

"Are you sure this is the right place?," Public asked, straightening his jacket. "Why would Stafford come here?"

 

"There's a trace," said the Chemist. "I saw it when I worked my spell earlier. He's still being cloaked by the other's power for the most part."

 

"But you do have some way to track him down?," said Public, looking around. "Otherwise why would you be out looking for him?"

 

"I've some thoughts," said the Chemist.

 

John shook his head. He had known the Chemist for a while, maybe ten years. The magician never liked to explain things. The psychic put it down to the traditional silence magic users vowed to uphold. He understood it, but poked at it.

 

The Chemist took the prodding stoically. He had been apprenticed in silence, worked in secrecy, and fathomed riddles. Second nature kept his ideas inside until he could prove them.

 

The magician led the way to a building named the Cook Museum of the Sea. He pushed the door open. A sign asked them not to touch the display cases as they stepped on a brown carpet protecting the wooden floor of the converted house.

 

The Chemist wrote on his sunglasses with his fingertip. He looked around the room beyond the foyer. One of the objects glowed behind the plastic cases. The magician started toward it, holding out a hand.

 

John Public was two steps behind him. The psychic paused, feeling something not right. The museum appeared empty. There was something wrong with that. There should at least be one tour guide eager to show them around and keep their hands off the items under glass.

 

John felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. He tried to turn, tried to link with however many people were in his area of effect. He didn't have time before he was flung across the room. His body smashed several shelves, something jamming him in the back as he headed for the floor.

 

The Chemist started to turn at the noise. His reflexes weren't faster than the bullet that took him in the chest. He crashed against the wall, blood spilling down his coverall. His glasses fell to one side as he went.

 

The Halberdier sprinted forward, smashing open the case the Chemist had been looking at before he had taken the bullet in the chest. One hand seized the paper inside as he turned to finish the job. It didn't matter if the other magistrates wanted to track him down if he could get rid of their primary information gatherer right now.

 

As Stafford took aim to put a bullet into the Chemist's head, he vanished from the room. The full mask he wore hid the disgusted look he had as he was recalled with his goal in hand.

 

John Public got to his feet, shrugging off the pain in his head as he rushed to his friend's side. He found a pulse with a touch of his mind. At least the magician was still alive.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

3

 

The Halberdier took aim at his patron in suppressed anger. Two more seconds would have stopped the Chemist and John Public for good. Now he was facing having to deal with them when they were aware he was out there looking for them.

 

"Send me back," he said. "I still have a job to do."

 

"You work for me, Mr. Stafford," said the writer, smiling slightly. "The parchment please. You have three more stops to make."

 

"The Magistracy aren't a joke," said Stafford, lowering the pistol. "I'll need to hire backup if you want your precious pages."

 

"I will pay the extra amount as long as you bring the other pieces in the required time," said the magician. "If the Chemist lived, it will not take him long to try and counter us."

 

"Let me make a phone call," said Stafford, holstering the pistol. He pulled out a phone, dialed a number, and talked for a few minutes. He handed the phone over to the magician. There was a buzzing sound before the cell was returned. Locations were given to the voice on the other end of the call.

 

"It's in motion," the Halberdier said, closing the phone.

 

"Thank you," said the master of the world, taking the loose page from his hireling. "You should have plenty of time to get the rest."

 

"We'll see," said Stafford. "Energize me."

 

The mercenary vanished in the glow of a floating letter. The master of the world knew Stafford would get the things he needed or die trying. His mercenary code made sure of that. The magician took the page and placed it on a template he had created years ago in anticipation of what he was going to do when the stars were right.

 

The pieces of paper glowed, rearranging themselves on the metal plate. Unknown letters lit along the sides before fading out again. This was the most important thing he had undertaken in a century. The Chemist had stood in his way the last time as well.

 

Maybe he should have sent Stafford back to finish the job. Nothing to do about it now. The Magistracy would have to be kept busy for a little bit.

 

The magician went to the screens on the wall. A finger scribble lit up pictures of the tower where it sat in the middle of the Atlantic. Silver had visitors from the aircraft landing in the raised hangar bays near the top of the building. This was a perfect opportunity.

 

The master of the world wrote on the screen. He didn't expect much from his spell. The Chemist would have put some kind of wards in place to keep out the type of sending he was doing. Still some of it might get through since the other writer was wounded.

 

That's all he needed at the moment.

 

A distraction to the Magistracy and its allies would keep them from trying to find out what Stafford had taken, and what the real goal of things were.

 

Someone might piece it together, but what was the worth of things without a little risk.

 

The master of the world went to his desk. He still had papers to sign, orders to give, things to take care of while he was engaged in his side project. He delegated where possible, but he still had to personally see to things just to make sure his ship had smooth sailing.

 

The world will be a different place after the birth of his child. He would finally take the time to arrange things the way they should be. The other writers like the Chemist would be swept aside. There would be a wave of magic on the face of the Earth unlike any in the history of the world.

 

Of course the toll on civilization would be devastating to say the least. Preparations were on the way to make sure only the right people survived the cataclysm ahead. He would rule not only behind the scenes but as the savior of mankind.

 

He idly wondered how many of the non-chosen would die in the future. The smaller the number of survivors, the less to worry about. Especially when he had a corps of writers at his disposal to shape as he wanted.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

Jerry Silver lit up a cigarette as he walked into the conference room at the tower. He nodded to his guests as he headed for his chair. It was the most comfortable one there. He didn't like to spend a lot of time talking to people he barely knew.

 

The Persian, Jonah Charles, and Crystalmach had decided to visit from the CORPS. They wanted a shot at Stafford. He had been a thorn in their side when they first started, working for some guy called Hellspur.

 

The Pointer had dropped by with official word from D.C. that the School wanted Stafford also. He was a mercenary operating in their superhuman mandate, and the boys on the hill wanted him gone. That meant their watchdogs were also looking for the Halberdier.

 

Silver wasn't giving up anything to what he considered special interests. One of his guys had been hurt. No one was going to tell him to back off under his own roof. That's the feeling he was getting from his guests.

 

They were going to be disappointed.

 

"What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?," Silver asked, leaning back in his chair.

 

"I want what you got on the Halberdier," said Pointer, wearing the standard suit that most FBI agents wore, badge on his belt. He didn't need whatever weapon the Bureau issued. The ones he manifested worked better. "It's that simple."

 

"So what," said Silver. "You know better than that. I want access to the information the world's intelligence services gather. We both know it ain't going to happen."

 

"Maybe we can work out some kind of exchange," said Charles, a tall thin man in an expensive suit. He looked like a peanut on top of a grass blade. "The School wants Stafford for crimes. WE want the people he used to work for. You want him for whatever he's doing now. Let's make a deal."

 

"Tell me you're kidding," said Pointer, rounding on the taller man.

 

"Tell me you don't know this is international soil so you can't do anything unless you're ready to declare war," said Charles, pulling out a pipe and stuffing the bowl full. "Let's not kid ourselves. All I'm asking is five minutes of Stafford's time."

 

"What are you giving me in return?," asked Silver. The beanpole had con man written all over him, but he had cut to the heart of the matter without trying.

 

"Crys is good at finding people," said Charles, indicating the woman in brown and yellow. A tiara of clear stones held her long brown hair back from her face. "Her expert help for five minutes with Stafford."

 

"Agreed," said Silver. His expert had been taken to the sick bay with bullet holes in the chest. Public had done something to keep the Chemist alive where they had been attacked, but the magician was out of the fight for now.

 

"You can't do that," said Pointer.

 

"Diplomatic immunity and the approval of the UN security council says I can," said Silver, puffing on his cigarette. "I guess you could try and rescind my charter but we both know the State Department couldn't get that done in a month of Sundays, kid."

 

Pointer looked at the others. He was in a bad bargaining position, and knew it. On the other hand, he didn't have anything to lose by sharing what did come into the School's hands until they had Stafford in hand.

 

"I can't promise access to any classified network," he finally said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can get clearance for you to see things we have gathered on Stafford in the last few years since he came on the scene."

 

"That's a start I guess," said Silver, putting the cigarette out in a plain ashtray. "This is what we got. Stafford stole some pages from something called the St. Swithin display at a museum earlier. We were able to identify them from the curator of the place."

 

Silver pushed a couple of buttons. He wasn't great with computers but he had been looking at pictures earlier so it wasn't any big deal to reload them for the other screens. Pages with arcane symbols and letters filled the screens after a few seconds.

 

"Is it colder in here?," asked Charles, looking around. His pipe went in his mouth but it was unlit.

 

"This is part of something else," said Crystalmach. Long fingers changed the arrangement of stones on a bracer covering one forearm. "There should be three more. I have heard of such things, but have never thought of seeing one."

 

"It's definitely colder in here," said Charles, moving toward a bulkhead.

 

The Persian moved in front of his boss, looking around also. Light played across his artificial eyes as he examined the room a little closer. The skin on his forearm broke apart to reveal a round orb. He had worked with Charles enough to trust the man's feelings.

 

Something was going on.

 

"We need a search, Crys," the Persian said. If the rest of his team had been present, he would pulled his com set from his belt pack and plugged it into his eye. "The ambient temperature is dropping in this room."

 

Pointer and Silver looked around, but saw nothing. That didn't stop Pointer from flexing his left hand and gripping an invisible gun. He had been in a fight against the Persian before. If the synthetic man decided to get ready to fight something, there was an excellent chance there was something there to fight.

 

Crystalmach changed the pattern of stones on her bracer. Light blasted out. Thin lines became things with claws and hooks. She added another stone to her alignment so that she could lock on to those shapes wherever they were.

 

"Intruder alert, Reilly," Silver said into the intercom. "We have invisible bogies in the building."

 

Klaxons sounded as Reilly hit the button. The operations officer had already been through one invasion of his domain. Two was getting on his nerves.

 

"How bad is this?," asked Silver, lightning running up his arm.

 

"Full scale invasion," said Crystalmach, pointing her bracer at the nearest shadow and punching the add on stone. The sending came apart under the light.

 

"Any ideas how to stop them?," Silver asked, pointing a finger at another and letting fly a small thunderbolt. The electricity flung the line collection away.

 

"I have them locked in this shape for the moment," said Crys. "If we had time I could banish them with some kind of ward wall."

 

"We'll get you time enough to build one," said Pointer, ghost guns firing at shadows stupid enough to get in his way.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

5

 

John Public and Maker stood watch in the Chemist's sick room. The psychic had mended the wounds as well as possible with his melding powers. The Halberdier had come out of nowhere, and dropped both of them like amateurs.

 

Maker had traced the stolen object as fast as possible. They didn't know why he wanted it, but it was a lead. Capitalizing on it seemed to be the tricky part.

 

"Silver is in a meeting with Pointer and some of the people from the CORPS," said Maker. "They all want the Halberdier. I wonder if they will reach an agreement."

 

"Not our problem," said John Public. "Let's get this over with. The faster, the better."

 

"I'm ready," said Maker. "Let's go ahead before something happens."

 

Public took Maker's hand, feeling the woman beneath the metal. He was in love with her. He was committed to her. He liked the feeling. Just touching her hand sent waves through him. He felt her smile without having to look at her face.

 

Public put the other hand on the Chemist's forehead. Connections were made, all three thought together. The psychic made sure to keep his and Maker's personality distinct from the magician's. Facts drifted by them, warped by experience. The stolen page swam by, chained to other pages.

 

"Home in on that image," said Maker. She memorized what she saw as the images expanded in her inner vision.

 

"That one on top is the one we lost," said Public. "What are those others?"

 

"I think they're pages of enchantments," said Maker. "I'm sure of it. Why would the Halberdier want those? He's not a magician. He wouldn't be able to use them."

 

"He was hired to do it by the same people as the mad doctor," said the psychic. "What we need is the location of these pages."

 

"No problem," said Maker, hooking into her remote. Instantly her connections started looking for anything that matched what they were observing. "There's no guarantee they'll be public anywhere."

 

A match fell in Public's mind from the link he had set up. He looked at the address, nodding to himself. That was where he was going to be as soon as he broke the connection.

 

The alarm sounded. The Chemist's mental landscape shook at the sound.

 

"We are going to have to break contact," said John. "I want you to stay here and look after the Chemist while I help with whatever is going on."

 

"I don't like it," said Maker. "But I will. Be careful."

 

John broke the connection, bringing them out of the trance slowly. He looked around the sick bay, sensing something wasn't right about the room.

 

"Reilly said there were shadows loose in the tower," said Maker.

 

"They're here," said John. "They must be after the Chemist."

 

The things froze into visible stick men. They looked amazed at their transformation. They were crowded around the door to cut off escape by the magistrates. Escape was the last thing Public wanted to do if he could touch them.

 

The shadows rushed the three heroes. They knew something was wrong. They shouldn't be solid like this. Still they could claw their prey to ribbons like any big carnivore.

 

John didn't wait for them to try. He had the strength of the staff coursing through his muscles. He leaped in, swinging with both hands. His tactic was ineffective, since his fists just slid across their slick skin.

 

"That didn't go like I planned," said John.

 

"I have a solution," said Maker. She placed her hand on the Chemist's chest. He shook on his bed.

 

"What are you doing?," said John, getting in front of the technology user.

 

"I'm waking the Chemist up," said Maker. "We need his magic to shut those things down."

 

The Chemist sat up in bed, eyes strangely glowing as he looked around. He raised a finger, and wrote a symbol on the air. Light raced through the floor. Glowing vines went up the walls.

 

The sendings burst apart while John and Maker watched.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

6

He had lost his name years ago. He had been named the Hurting by his first employer. He had kept the name as he worked his way from one criminal operation to the next. He had worked with and against the Halberdier before. They had a professional respect, he supposed.

 

All that mattered was the color of his money. The Hurting had lost a lot of things with his name. All he cared about was doing a job. He found it acceptable for people to pay him for something he would do for free.

 

The Hurting's partners were different. They only liked to work for money. If a client couldn't pay the amount asked, they tended to take revenge. The Hurting didn't care as long as he moved like he was alive, mixing it up in the real world.

 

The Hurting stood beside a plastic display case. Clawed hands extended from under the ragged shroud wrapped around his thin body. His talons cut the plastic in a circle in one swift motion. He pulled the circle out with an easy move of his thin wrist. The paper on display beckoned him to take it.

 

The thin fingers pulled the paper from the display case with care. Red eyes glanced at the strange writing from under the hood hiding his head. He handed the paper over to his partner, Quentin. The mercenary slid the paper into a carrying case with care.

 

The Hurting almost wished someone would show up to try and stop him. He didn't like a job that was too easy. It didn't give him that buzz that he needed.

 

"Let's go," said Cano. "We got what we came for. We're rich."

 

Quentin looked at the hulking piece of rock and dog mixed together. He looked like he wanted to say something scathing, but couldn't think of the right words. Finally he gave up with a sigh.

 

"We're rich," said Quentin. "Let's drop this off and move on to the next one before someone catches wise and tries to stop us."

 

The Hurting nodded, silently leading the way out of the museum. It made no difference to him if someone tried to stop him or not. Still it would be nice to rake someone's face to ribbons and feel their blood on his hands. It would let him know he was alive.

 

He needed that constant reassurance since he had lost his name.

 

The trio had crossed paths with the CORPS and the School on numerous occasions. The Hurting had enjoyed one duel he had engaged in with the Graft. There was a man after the revenant's heart. They had fought to a standstill until events had pulled them apart. That was what made whatever acted as his blood to sing.

 

Stafford would pay the rest of the money into the account. They would split the money. He wouldn't spend his. Quentin had women and play as a vice. Cano had a wife and kid somewhere. The Hurting had no one and no need so his money stayed and collected interest until one day he did feel like spending it. He knew that was a long way in the future because right now he couldn't imagine anything different from the way he felt now.

 

The trio boarded a van designed to carry Cano's bulk without breaking the streets. They drove away before the police arrived to investigate the alarm. Maybe next time, the Hurting told himself as he watched the building recede in the back window.

 

"I wonder what the Halberdier wants with this paper," said Cano. "Maybe we can hold him up for some more money."

 

"No," said Quentin. "We were paid to deliver this. Then we get the other half of our money. We're not going to get greedy and blow this."

 

"Greed smeed," said Cano. "I was just thinking we deserve a bonus for our professionalism."

 

"Professionalism means we don't hold up our employer," said Quentin. "Besides who else would we sell the paper to? Let's not throw easy money away."

 

"Quentin is right," said the Hurting, attention still on the passing streets. "Let's wait before we bite the hand that feeds."

 

The Hurting wanted more jobs, harder jobs. He couldn't get those if his group started reneging on their deals. He would do anything, but he wouldn't jeopardize a good working relationship for something petty like money which he didn't use anyway.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

7

Crystalmach stood behind the Persian, shifting the stones on her bracer. Pointer was beside her, ghost guns rippling the air as he fired round after round at the stick men trying to get close enough to touch them. Jerry Silver stood by himself next to his chair. Lightning coruscated around him, forming arcs that shattered the moving black when he looked at them.

 

Crystalmach placed the last stone in place, then pressed the activate key. Mystic energy cleared the room, lashing out in glass spikes of light. She smiled, glad to have bought a little time. Purple lines ran up the walls in the aftermath of the spell.

 

"Looks like the building's defenses activated," Crys said, scanning the area with her bracer. "I can't find any of those things left."

 

"Feels better," said Jonah Charles, standing straighter in his corner. "Looks like your guy doesn't want you to stop him, Silver."

 

"We'll see about that," said Silver, letting the electricity die around him. "Status report, Reilly."

 

"Jerry," said Maker's voice, cutting Reilly off before he could say anything. "We have something. The Chemist had a picture in his mind of what the Halberdier stole, and it was linked to some other papers."

 

"How sure are you?," asked Pointer, bulling his way to the intercom. His tie hung loose from his neck now. Cordite drifted around him.

 

"The second piece we learned about was just stolen by the Triangle," said Maker. "A notice just came in to the system."

 

"Where are the rest?," said Silver, pushing Pointer out of his way.

 

"One is in Los Angeles, the other in Dallas," said Maker. "They are both in museums on display."

 

"You in, or out?," Silver asked his counterparts.

 

"I'm in," said Pointer. "I'll have to file a report on this to my boss."

 

The Persian nodded. His plastic face hid the calculations circuiting through his brain. The Halberdier had taken some very valuable things from him. He wanted to pay back the cost.

 

"Maker, keep working on the Chemist," Silver said, before switching to an open channel. "Magistrates report to the Slide. We're finding out what's going on. Reilly, take care of damage control. Maker is staying behind in case you need her."

 

Silver looked at his guests as he cut the intercom. He had dealt with them before this, and knew what they were capable of in a crunch. He could have picked worse people to go into a fight with if he wanted.

 

"You guys will stick with me," said Silver. "John Public will take the rest of my people with him. We'll take Los Angeles. They'll take Dallas."

 

"Have a good time," said Charles. "I'll get the CORPS up to speed in case we need them from here."

 

"I'll send a note to the agency after we touch down," said Pointer. "We might need them, might not. In any case, I have to let them know where I am and what I am doing."

 

"Let's go," said Silver. "Charles, you can do your organizing from the control room. Reilly will give you a phone to use if you need it."

 

"Thanks," said Charles.

 

"Just stay out of trouble," said Silver. He pointed to a set of arrows on the wall. "Follow the red ones to the control deck. Reilly should fix you up."

 

Charles broke off, waving at the group as they continued to the transporter room.

[OddHat]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

Good stuff, keep it coming.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

Good stuff' date=' keep it coming. [/quote']

 

Thanks, 'Hat. I appreciate it.

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

8

 

Jeff Stafford looked around the roof of the museum, armored costume concealing his nervousness as he breached the security of the place. It was child's play for a man of his talents and skills. A few minutes later, he was walking into the room he wanted after disabling many of the devices put in place to stop him.

 

Stafford checked his chronometer as he worked his way to the display case in the back of the room. He felt the pressure of passing time. Sooner or later the Magistracy would figure out what he was doing, even with the Chemist dead, or hurt. Then he would have a real problem on his hands.

 

Unfortunately he had been forced to waste a day and a half preparing for this job. His paymaster was making him crazy wanting him to take excessive risks for some paper, no matter how old it was. He also knew he couldn't turn it down either. He might wind up back in a coma.

 

At least he was alone in the room, and it looked like an easy score.

 

A flash of brown drew his attention, making him draw his pistol as he ducked to one side. A rain of crystal passed by to his left. Stafford frowned under his full mask.

 

The frown deepened when he recognized Crystalmach in her brown and yellow costume, leather bracer on one arm. She never went anywhere alone. Where were the other members of the CORPS?

 

Reflexes took over as the mercenary backed out of the room, firing bullets at the witch. This had to be a trap. He expected no less since he had lost the element of surprise.

 

The Halberdier pulled his axe out of the sheath on his back as he watched the bullets he fired bounce off a crystal shield. His senses had switched to high alert at the first sign of trouble. The sound of shoe leather alerted him to Pointer popping up on his left. He spun the long axe in one hand, stopping the impact of invisible projectiles with the metal blade.

 

Crystalmach and Pointer were a surprise. Still neither one was a match for his skills and heightened physical powers. He would just have to kill them both, then grab the paper and move on before anyone else showed up to help them.

 

The Halberdier reversed direction, exchanging fire with the Pointer as he closed on Crystalmach. The witch was more of a threat than the suit with the invisible guns. Once he cut off her head, he could turn and deal with the government agent.

 

A crick of leather moving made Stafford turn his head, made him start to swing his long axe at something coming from his left. A hand blocked it, another catching his face with a fist. He staggered from the blow, turning to bring the pistol in line to deal with this new threat.

 

The Persian.

 

Stafford rode the punch into a spinning fist. He and the leader of the CORPS were near physical equals. He should have expected the artificial man. Crystalmach and he were inseparable.

 

Stafford leaped over another punch, used the last of his pistol's ammunition to keep the witch and government lapdog out of his hair as he rushed the display case. He smashed the plastic open with his axe.

 

Lightning lifted him off the ground and flung him across the room. Smoke drifted across his still form.

 

"Now, let's get some answers," said Jack Silver, lightning still rushing in his eyes venomously.

[aylwin13]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

More, more!!

 

 

Great stuff c.s.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

Thank you Alwyn. I appreciate that.

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

9

 

The Triangle arrived in Dallas a day after dropping the stolen paper off with the Halberdier's agent. They were on a time schedule, and decided to hit the target as soon as possible after touching down. Then they would find a way out of the city and drop their booty off for payment.

 

Quentin secured a van to transport them to the museum. The Hurting and Cano rode in the back behind shaded windows. No point in letting the other motorists know they might be in danger if something happened on the way to the zone.

 

Quentin pulled the van to the parking area in the back of the building. They hadn't bothered to check with security to see what was where. They didn't have time. A hasty plan of attack placed Cano in the lead, drawing all the attention while Quentin and the Hurting followed using cover.

 

It was the best thing they could come up with barring spending time to plan an entrance. Shock and awe would have to do for stealth and surprise. Quentin didn't like it, but he already knew that time was running short.

 

Cano's fiery form sent the patrons running for cover as he burned his way toward the target. He laughed, tongue hanging from his canine face. He didn't bother frying them. They were running, and that's what the Triangle wanted. Burning one meant burning anybody else that got too close.

 

The trouble started when a lone woman in a purple dress/long shirt stepped in their path. Quentin paused. He recognized Luna from her pictures. That meant the Magistracy was close, maybe close enough to ruin the job. Speed was a priority now.

 

"The paper," Quentin said to the Hurting, before vaulting along the display cases. He used the leaping momentum to try for a kick to Luna's head. Take her down, then worry about the rest of the heroes.

 

"You can do better than that, Quentin," said Luna, stepping out of the way of the kick. "What's up with the paper you guys want?"

 

"None of your business," said Quentin, upping his reflexes as he dug into a series of moves aimed to drive Luna back out of the way. He was slightly alarmed when none of his blows landed.

 

Cano was having his own problems. The hulking fiery dog man had decided to torch the walls. A man had got in the way of his bad breath, blocking the flame. He grimaced, knowing where Luna went, her solar powered boyfriend Phaeton wasn't far behind.

 

The Hurting glided between the two conflicts. The paper was in front of him, and once he had that, they could leave. He reached for the case, slicing it open with his taloned fingers. Cano could burn the place down to cover their escape if he had to.

 

The shrouded figure was surprised at something beating against his face and body. He was surprised but didn't feel anything beyond impact. Clawed hands ripped the air, trying to catch the green figure in his way.

 

It looked like they had walked into a trap.

 

Time to get out.

 

The Hurting leaped away from the display case, clawing the air to keep the transparent form of Quick away from him as he started his escape. If only Phaeton and Luna were there, he would fight it out. Since he didn't know how many of the Magistracy was there, he felt it was better to flee to fight another day.

 

He couldn't inflict pain from solitary confinement.

 

The shrouded figure bumped into something as he flew backwards away from his adversary. He looked over his shoulder. A fist knocked him to the ground. He didn't feel pain, but the impact drove him into the marble floor. Something heavy dropped on him, pinning him in place.

 

"I think it's time we had a talk," said John Public, another concrete trash can in his hands.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

10

Quentin looked around, calculating the odds. Anyone else would have given up. One of his team was down, the other stalemated, and he only had a gap of a few seconds to make a move to get out of the mess.

 

"Switch," Quentin ordered Cano.

 

Quentin leaped away from Luna and Quick, as Cano turned his head. A stream of flame leapt from the maw of the fiery beast as the martial artist landed with both feet on Phaeton's face. His boots caught fire but his momentum had driven the solar hero into a concrete bench. He landed lightly, rolling the flame out as he retreated from the battle.

 

Cano's fire blast scorched the air. It forced Quick to counter it with a fan of air while Luna ducked for cover. Public threw the other concrete trash can, but the stone wolf man knocked it aside as he lit up the room. Flames threatened the building and the valuable display pieces enough to give them some leverage to use to escape without the prize.

 

Quentin moved back, hurling steel stars at the Magistracy as he made his way to the door. He was pleased that Cano was going the other way. Both of them could escape if they moved fast enough.

 

Quentin turned and headed for the stairs. He knew he was easy prey on the roof. His escape route was a tunnel leading to a building across the street. Once there, he could get a disguise and walk away. He felt something coming at him from behind. He started to turn, to dodge whatever attack was headed for him. He wasn't successful.

 

Quick slammed into him, using her velocity to add to the force of the swing of her arm. The super soldier flew into the doorframe, falling to the floor. He rolled to his feet, trying to come on guard as the speedster vibrated in his vision. He wasn't ready to give up.

 

Quentin backed against the wall, limiting options of attack, on guard. Wind pulsed against his skin, hummingbird wings beat on his ears, mist clouded his eyes, but he ignored it as he concentrated on his opponent standing in two places at once. He waited for the attack. She couldn't allow him to escape, or to drag out a stand off when someone might arrive to be a hostage he could use.

 

Quentin spotted the move, like a baseball player waiting for a fast ball. He swung his whole arm in a clothesline. The hope was to crush her throat, and walk away while she suffocated on the floor.

 

His arm swept through air. He tried to use the carry through to flip to another position. His enhanced reflexes weren't enough to handle lightning. Battering punches landed while he was still in the air. Even with protective padding, he knew that some of his ribs had been broken. He landed hard on his back, trying to breathe.

 

Quick put plastic handcuffs on the super soldier to keep him from going anywhere fast. Medical attention would have to wait. She still had a rampaging fire thing to handle.

 

Cano had went the other way, firing jets of flame at anything in reach. The others were on their own until he could find a place to hide and regroup. Hands clamped on his stony hide from behind.

 

"Let's take this outside," said Phaeton, dragging the unwilling monster through a skylight and into the air over Dallas.

 

"Hey!," shouted Cano. "I can't fly. Put me down."

 

"Can you swim?," Phaeton asked.

 

He aimed for the largest body of water he could see from the air and flew into it at full speed. Superheated water and air formed a hot fog around him as he dragged his crumbling captive out of the suddenly empty pool.

[OzMike]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

Great stuff. I always enjoy reading these

 

 

Any chance of these characters ever being written up and posted?

[aylwin13]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

The Magistracy story (all of the parts) has been excellent. This and RDU Neil's Mavericks thread are two of my favorites.

 

I had thought (a few times) about asking if you'd post the character write-ups, but then I figured if you wanted to share them you would. Still, it would be cool to see them.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

I guess I could do that when the last two stories are over. I hadn't seriously thought about posting character sheets.

CES

[OzMike]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

I guess I could do that when the last two stories are over. I hadn't seriously thought about posting character sheets.

CES

 

Please - seriously think

 

I'd like to see your take on the way concepts/narrative connects to the game mechanics, plus some of the powers you've attributed to various chracters have my interest piqued.

[aylwin13]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

Yeah, what OzMike said.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

I'll post something. I'm not as good as Mike Surbrook or Chad Reilly, but I guess that's the least I can do.

 

Do you guys have any requests for any more stories after this set is over.

CES

[OzMike]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

Yes on both counts.

 

And don't sell yourself short on the character front - even Mike and Chad post initial write-ups that they change in response to feedback. They don't just pop out of HD fully formed (although a random character generator attached to HD would be cool...).

 

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

I'll rig out something. I have two more things to write down and that will be the end of the set. I'm sure something else will come to me, either for the main characters or some of the guys in the background.

CES

[Trebuchet]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

I'll post something. I'm not as good as Mike Surbrook or Chad Reilly, but I guess that's the least I can do.

 

Do you guys have any requests for any more stories after this set is over.

CES

Something featuring Wonder Woman and a hot tub.

 

What?

[aylwin13]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

I'll post something. I'm not as good as Mike Surbrook or Chad Reilly, but I guess that's the least I can do.

 

Do you guys have any requests for any more stories after this set is over.

CES

 

I'll rig out something. I have two more things to write down and that will be the end of the set. I'm sure something else will come to me, either for the main characters or some of the guys in the background.

CES

These two posts got me wondering and now I have a question: are these stories you've been posting novelizations of games you've played, or actual fiction you've written using your own characters? Either way, its all good. As to what I'd like to see: anything you have works for me.