By Chaz Hamilton
“Found them,” Catalyst reported to the group. “Small building, back of the manufacturing plant lot.”
“It’s about time.” Wyldfyre shoves a foot against the table and pushes himself back, still in his chair. The wheels squeak as he rolls in reverse toward the wall, but before reaching it, Wyldfyre hops out of his seat and flexes his broad shoulders. The chair clatters noisily as it collides with a pile of cardboard boxes stacked beside the exit door. “Don’t tell me we have to wait for that reporter guy before we can go.”
“I think he will be busy for the time being,” Chained Angel replied. “Good work, Catalyst.”
Catalyst grins as he continues working at his computer. “Ten thermal signatures are inside the building. Two are on patrol, walking the grounds. They carry guns."
“Guns they shall not have the opportunity to fire. I will dispatch them from the sky above before they even know I am there.” The Infinite Tempest punches his left fist into his right palm with a resounding thunderclap and sparks of electricity dancing up along his forearms from the impact.
The computer screens flicker and go dark along with the lights on the computer itself. “Hey, I warned you about doing that inside,” Catalyst groans as he starts fiddling at the back of his computer.
“I’m sorry, friend,” Tempest chuckles without remorse. “The need to pursue justice is sometimes too strong for even me to temper.”
“I never should have let you watch the Tick on Amazon Retro-Prime,” Catalyst grumbled.
“Send a message to El Rey and the Unstoppable Nightmask when you get things up and running.” Chained Angel’s wings shifted from glossy white to ebon black. “It’s time for us to go reap some bad guys.”
*****
Poundcake watches out the window as the Star Force team departs. “They’ve gone. Things aren’t going according to plan.”
Chuckie stops playing with a stuffed Easter Bunny rabbit on his bed. “I should still work. They’ll have a connection to the Arena Computers through the BADGE network. We really got lucky that the telepath was called away. I don’t think I could have thought like a baby for much longer.”
“I know what you mean. Playing worried mommy isn’t my strong suit either.” Poundcake moved to the door, opened it, and checked both directions in the hallway beyond. “The only one still here is that computer guy. How do you want to play this, Frosty?”
“That’s Frosting to you. No childish nicknames anymore, OK.” Chuckie stood up and jumped off the mattress, his body transforming into a white glue-like paste. Once his feet touched the floor, he stood as an exact replica of Starmaster. “The usual. I’ll distract him and you can beat his brains in.”
“Sweet.” Poundcake nodded as she moved into the corridor. “Sounds like a recipe for success.”
*****
Pysmatica arrived before the rest of the Star Force, having the greatest speed while in her photonic-plasma form. She landed out of direct line of sight to the building the Bakers Dozen had been spotted within. She reverted to her human form, conserving her energy until the others arrived. She bent the light reflected off the building and its surroundings around the corner of her position and created a mirage-like image before her, keeping an eye out for any activity.
Chained Angel swooped down and landed beside her. “The others aren’t far behind. I let Tempest go and handle the two on patrol. He’ll make enough noise that we will know when to start our assault on the front door.”
“Katálava,” Prysmatica replied. She brushed a long strand of her blue-black hair behind her from the side of her face and tucked it behind an ear. “Understood. I wanted to thank you for helping me remain hidden while Mr. Hamilton was at the headquarters.”
“We watch out for one-another.” Chained Angel studied the image Prysmatica created. “I don’t think he could handle knowing how many capes secretly worked at the Sentinel for their day jobs.”
HowlingMoon landed with Wyldfyre in his telekinetic tow further back from the others. “El Rey and the Eternal Nightmask are in position at the back of the building.”
A loud thunderclap echoed nearby. Chained Angel lifted into the air. “That’s the signal. Let’s go get them.”
The Star Force rounded the corner, charging the storage building. Chained Angel and HowlingMoon in the air, Wyldfyre and Prysmatica running out from behind the building at top speed.
The front door opened and two of the Bakers Dozen stepped out, guns in hand.
Before they could utter a word, Prysmatica flared with a pulse of brilliance from her hand. The front of the building lit up as if hit by the world’s largest camera flash. The two opponents dropped their guns and blocked their faces with their upturned arms.
“I can’t see,” one of them shouted.
“I’m blind,” said the other one.
The heroes continued to close the gap. HowlingMoon lifted one of the disabled men into the air and placed him within a nearby dumpster, repeating the maneuver with the second shortly after. “That’s where trash goes. Now be quiet or I’ll close the lid.”
Two more masked individuals came out, this time firing with sprays of bullets as they rushed toward the cover of stacks of large, construction-vehicle tires. “Get ‘em, Bakers. Let’s roast their gooses until they are well-done.”
Wyldfyre stopped in mid-stride. “Really? Cooking puns? Why do you waste your time coming up with that $&!+?” He stares at the ground and it erupts into two lines of flame that shoot directly at the piled industrial rubber his opponents use as cover. “You should've spent your time getting rid of flammable materials.”
The flames connect with the piles of tires and ignite with a tremendous WHOOSH. The gunmen are knocked back in the air and fly straight into the wall of the building behind them.
“Clean-up on aisle ‘dumb-ass’,” Wyldfyre strides forward.
A strong wind blows from within the building, knocking the door from its hinges and sends it at Chained Angel. She bats it away with a swipe from her jet-black wings. Clad in a gleaming silver suit of tailored armor, a deep lavender aura erupts around her as she is buffeted by the forceful wind coming out of the opening. “Surrender. We don’t want to hurt you, but that won’t stop us from enjoying the opportunity if you force us to continue this fight.”
Mixer spins out into the field of battle, a living whirlwind beneath her midsection. “You’re the one in for a beating.”
The flames from the burning tires are carried toward the Star Force heroes by Mixer’s gusts.
“Wyldfyre!” Chained Angel shouts.
“I’m on it,” Wyldfyre snorts. He raises a hand toward the advancing tendrils of heat. “Don’t get your heavenly panties in a bunch.”
The flames extinguish from the tires. Mixer scowls for an instant before drawing her arms in close to her chest. The winds beneath her increase and the tires themselves begin to tremble and lift into the air.
Chained Angel dives and forces her way closer to Mixer despite the power of her gusts. Angel grows in size until she lands and towers over Mixer’s by three-times the villain’s height. Chained Angel pinches a couple of the rising tires between her fingers and drops them around Mixer’s body. The winds drop down as Angel continues to pile tires around the smaller woman and covers them with a sheet of corrugated steel.
Four blasts of energy, two white-tinged with blue and two vibrant orange, shoot out from the interior of the building and strike Chained Angel in the leg. Steam erupts from the points where the blasts meet as the enlarged hero stumbles back.
A faint voice slips through the cracks of the layered tires. “Heatlamp. Deep Freeze. Get me out of here!”
“They won’t have time for that,” Prysmatica steps out from behind a tree and walks into full view of the two new opponents. She raises her hands above her head and her palms begin to strobe with a kaleidoscope of colors and patterns. The lights shift and illuminate Heatlamp and Deep Freeze from head to toe.
Wyldfyre turns his head to one side. “This always makes me want to puke.”
Both of Prysmatica’s targets seem to slump, their bodies relaxing as their arms limply drop to their sides. Chained Angel picks them up by the backs of their shirts and places them one by one into the dumpster with the others.
“Tempest, Nightmask, El Rey? Any signs of others?” Chained Angel asks as she shrinks back to her normal size.
They report back that they have disabled any opposition, Tempest having shocked the two patrolling guards into unconsciousness. El Rey and The Unstoppable Nightmask announce corralling three as they tried to escape through the back of the building.
“Good job, team. Let’s get them over to BADGE lockup.” Chained Angel claps as her wings return to white. “Cappuccino’s on me.”
*****
Catalyst kneels as he tinkers with the computer core in the Star Force Observatory. He digs through his toolbox and searches for components for his home-brew computer set-up.
“What are you doing?” Frosting, disguised as Starmaster, asks from the doorway. “Is something wrong with the computer?”
“No,” Catalyst taps a key and the screens come back to life. “Fixed it. Adding surge protectors before Tempy gets back.”
“Oh, OK. Can you come here for a minute, please? I’m having trouble with my communicator.”
“Bring here,” the formerly deaf hero stands and brushes his hands over his pant-legs.
Starmaster pauses. “I’ve got it disassembled in my quarters. Do I really need to go and bring all the pieces here? Just come and check it out for me. Please?”
“Whatever,” Catalyst replies. He opens a toolbox, grabs some small devices, and heads to the door.
Starmaster walks ahead into the hallway. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
“When back did you come?” Catalyst asks.
“Are you trying to do a Yoda impression?” Starmaster answers. He looks ahead to the doorway Poundcake lays in wait behind, anxious to be rid of the final Star Force occupant. “I got back a few minutes ago.”
Catalyst rubs the back of his neck. “Short trip. BADGE many questions for you two will have.”
Passing the threshold of the door, Starmaster stopped and turned to face Catalyst. “I’ve already spoken to BADGE. It wasn’t anything important.”
A shrill, nauseating squeal breaks all throughout the otherwise quiet hallway. Starmaster and Poundcake bring their hands to their ears, their faces twisted in pain.
Catalyst stood calmly between them, twisting a dial on a small electronic device in his hands. His mouth moved as if he spoke, but neither of the other two could understand a word he said. After a few seconds, Frosting melted out of his impersonation of Starmaster as he and Poundcake fell unconscious.
*****
BADGE transport vehicles pulled away from the Star Force Observatory as Chaz Hamilton and Chained Angel looked on.
“So, they wanted to infiltrate a league HQ and upload a virus into the Stellar Battle’s ranking program?” Chaz asked.
“Yes,” Chained Angel nodded. “We found the computer drive with the program. It seems like they wanted to alter the matches to put certain opponents into unplanned combats. Our belief is they meant to use these modified challenges to skew the odds for multiple gambling organizations. With knowledge like that in advance of the fights, millions could be made.”
“But why make us think there would be an attack on the arena itself?”
Chained Angel brought up a hand and then tapped Chaz against his back with a wingtip. “Misdirection. BADGE and we would be looking for one thing while something entirely different was going on. Luckily, they didn’t predict that Catalyst would be able to recognize that Frosting wasn’t Starmaster.”
“How did he?” Chaz hadn’t figured that out from all the details the Star Force shared for his story.
“As you know, Catalyst was born deaf. The appliance that was implanted to replace his hearing is extremely sensitive. Sensitive enough to hear heartbeats and changes in biorhythms. In some ways, he is a walking lie detector.” Chained Angel waved at Catalyst who had returned to working on the sentinel in the garage. “He not only knew it wasn’t Starmaster but he could hear Poundcake waiting behind the doorway. He’s always talked about wanting to test a sonic-debilitating device. I guess he got his chance.”
Chaz typed the additional details into his pad. “Are you going after Eli Hendricks now? That seems to be the final thread left to this story. How does he tie into all of this?”
“We’ll find him eventually.” Chained Angel smiled at Chaz. “But we need to head up for the League War soon. Will we see you up there?”
“I don’t know. The Chief is pretty sore at me right now.” Chaz tucked his tablet into his backpack. “I’d have to have a pretty good angle to get him to overlook what just happened at the Sentinel building.”
*****
The arena for the Stellar Battle filled one of multiple computer screens. Chaz and Chained Angel filled another, along with video from a reception at the new orbital city and several other current events around the world. A gloved hand pressed a button and the images at the Star Force Observatory cut out, replaced by a helmeted face. “It looks like we will have to proceed to our third objective. They discovered my efforts to infiltrate the arena’s systems.”
“No matter,” a chilling, alien voice replied. “They will never expect what I have in store for them”
Malicious laughter echoes over the speakers and is joined by a second chorus of amusement. “No, I don’t believe they shall.”
“Found them,” Catalyst reported to the group. “Small building, back of the manufacturing plant lot.”
“It’s about time.” Wyldfyre shoves a foot against the table and pushes himself back, still in his chair. The wheels squeak as he rolls in reverse toward the wall, but before reaching it, Wyldfyre hops out of his seat and flexes his broad shoulders. The chair clatters noisily as it collides with a pile of cardboard boxes stacked beside the exit door. “Don’t tell me we have to wait for that reporter guy before we can go.”
“I think he will be busy for the time being,” Chained Angel replied. “Good work, Catalyst.”
Catalyst grins as he continues working at his computer. “Ten thermal signatures are inside the building. Two are on patrol, walking the grounds. They carry guns."
“Guns they shall not have the opportunity to fire. I will dispatch them from the sky above before they even know I am there.” The Infinite Tempest punches his left fist into his right palm with a resounding thunderclap and sparks of electricity dancing up along his forearms from the impact.
The computer screens flicker and go dark along with the lights on the computer itself. “Hey, I warned you about doing that inside,” Catalyst groans as he starts fiddling at the back of his computer.
“I’m sorry, friend,” Tempest chuckles without remorse. “The need to pursue justice is sometimes too strong for even me to temper.”
“I never should have let you watch the Tick on Amazon Retro-Prime,” Catalyst grumbled.
“Send a message to El Rey and the Unstoppable Nightmask when you get things up and running.” Chained Angel’s wings shifted from glossy white to ebon black. “It’s time for us to go reap some bad guys.”
*****
Poundcake watches out the window as the Star Force team departs. “They’ve gone. Things aren’t going according to plan.”
Chuckie stops playing with a stuffed Easter Bunny rabbit on his bed. “I should still work. They’ll have a connection to the Arena Computers through the BADGE network. We really got lucky that the telepath was called away. I don’t think I could have thought like a baby for much longer.”
“I know what you mean. Playing worried mommy isn’t my strong suit either.” Poundcake moved to the door, opened it, and checked both directions in the hallway beyond. “The only one still here is that computer guy. How do you want to play this, Frosty?”
“That’s Frosting to you. No childish nicknames anymore, OK.” Chuckie stood up and jumped off the mattress, his body transforming into a white glue-like paste. Once his feet touched the floor, he stood as an exact replica of Starmaster. “The usual. I’ll distract him and you can beat his brains in.”
“Sweet.” Poundcake nodded as she moved into the corridor. “Sounds like a recipe for success.”
*****
Pysmatica arrived before the rest of the Star Force, having the greatest speed while in her photonic-plasma form. She landed out of direct line of sight to the building the Bakers Dozen had been spotted within. She reverted to her human form, conserving her energy until the others arrived. She bent the light reflected off the building and its surroundings around the corner of her position and created a mirage-like image before her, keeping an eye out for any activity.
Chained Angel swooped down and landed beside her. “The others aren’t far behind. I let Tempest go and handle the two on patrol. He’ll make enough noise that we will know when to start our assault on the front door.”
“Katálava,” Prysmatica replied. She brushed a long strand of her blue-black hair behind her from the side of her face and tucked it behind an ear. “Understood. I wanted to thank you for helping me remain hidden while Mr. Hamilton was at the headquarters.”
“We watch out for one-another.” Chained Angel studied the image Prysmatica created. “I don’t think he could handle knowing how many capes secretly worked at the Sentinel for their day jobs.”
HowlingMoon landed with Wyldfyre in his telekinetic tow further back from the others. “El Rey and the Eternal Nightmask are in position at the back of the building.”
A loud thunderclap echoed nearby. Chained Angel lifted into the air. “That’s the signal. Let’s go get them.”
The Star Force rounded the corner, charging the storage building. Chained Angel and HowlingMoon in the air, Wyldfyre and Prysmatica running out from behind the building at top speed.
The front door opened and two of the Bakers Dozen stepped out, guns in hand.
Before they could utter a word, Prysmatica flared with a pulse of brilliance from her hand. The front of the building lit up as if hit by the world’s largest camera flash. The two opponents dropped their guns and blocked their faces with their upturned arms.
“I can’t see,” one of them shouted.
“I’m blind,” said the other one.
The heroes continued to close the gap. HowlingMoon lifted one of the disabled men into the air and placed him within a nearby dumpster, repeating the maneuver with the second shortly after. “That’s where trash goes. Now be quiet or I’ll close the lid.”
Two more masked individuals came out, this time firing with sprays of bullets as they rushed toward the cover of stacks of large, construction-vehicle tires. “Get ‘em, Bakers. Let’s roast their gooses until they are well-done.”
Wyldfyre stopped in mid-stride. “Really? Cooking puns? Why do you waste your time coming up with that $&!+?” He stares at the ground and it erupts into two lines of flame that shoot directly at the piled industrial rubber his opponents use as cover. “You should've spent your time getting rid of flammable materials.”
The flames connect with the piles of tires and ignite with a tremendous WHOOSH. The gunmen are knocked back in the air and fly straight into the wall of the building behind them.
“Clean-up on aisle ‘dumb-ass’,” Wyldfyre strides forward.
A strong wind blows from within the building, knocking the door from its hinges and sends it at Chained Angel. She bats it away with a swipe from her jet-black wings. Clad in a gleaming silver suit of tailored armor, a deep lavender aura erupts around her as she is buffeted by the forceful wind coming out of the opening. “Surrender. We don’t want to hurt you, but that won’t stop us from enjoying the opportunity if you force us to continue this fight.”
Mixer spins out into the field of battle, a living whirlwind beneath her midsection. “You’re the one in for a beating.”
The flames from the burning tires are carried toward the Star Force heroes by Mixer’s gusts.
“Wyldfyre!” Chained Angel shouts.
“I’m on it,” Wyldfyre snorts. He raises a hand toward the advancing tendrils of heat. “Don’t get your heavenly panties in a bunch.”
The flames extinguish from the tires. Mixer scowls for an instant before drawing her arms in close to her chest. The winds beneath her increase and the tires themselves begin to tremble and lift into the air.
Chained Angel dives and forces her way closer to Mixer despite the power of her gusts. Angel grows in size until she lands and towers over Mixer’s by three-times the villain’s height. Chained Angel pinches a couple of the rising tires between her fingers and drops them around Mixer’s body. The winds drop down as Angel continues to pile tires around the smaller woman and covers them with a sheet of corrugated steel.
Four blasts of energy, two white-tinged with blue and two vibrant orange, shoot out from the interior of the building and strike Chained Angel in the leg. Steam erupts from the points where the blasts meet as the enlarged hero stumbles back.
A faint voice slips through the cracks of the layered tires. “Heatlamp. Deep Freeze. Get me out of here!”
“They won’t have time for that,” Prysmatica steps out from behind a tree and walks into full view of the two new opponents. She raises her hands above her head and her palms begin to strobe with a kaleidoscope of colors and patterns. The lights shift and illuminate Heatlamp and Deep Freeze from head to toe.
Wyldfyre turns his head to one side. “This always makes me want to puke.”
Both of Prysmatica’s targets seem to slump, their bodies relaxing as their arms limply drop to their sides. Chained Angel picks them up by the backs of their shirts and places them one by one into the dumpster with the others.
“Tempest, Nightmask, El Rey? Any signs of others?” Chained Angel asks as she shrinks back to her normal size.
They report back that they have disabled any opposition, Tempest having shocked the two patrolling guards into unconsciousness. El Rey and The Unstoppable Nightmask announce corralling three as they tried to escape through the back of the building.
“Good job, team. Let’s get them over to BADGE lockup.” Chained Angel claps as her wings return to white. “Cappuccino’s on me.”
*****
Catalyst kneels as he tinkers with the computer core in the Star Force Observatory. He digs through his toolbox and searches for components for his home-brew computer set-up.
“What are you doing?” Frosting, disguised as Starmaster, asks from the doorway. “Is something wrong with the computer?”
“No,” Catalyst taps a key and the screens come back to life. “Fixed it. Adding surge protectors before Tempy gets back.”
“Oh, OK. Can you come here for a minute, please? I’m having trouble with my communicator.”
“Bring here,” the formerly deaf hero stands and brushes his hands over his pant-legs.
Starmaster pauses. “I’ve got it disassembled in my quarters. Do I really need to go and bring all the pieces here? Just come and check it out for me. Please?”
“Whatever,” Catalyst replies. He opens a toolbox, grabs some small devices, and heads to the door.
Starmaster walks ahead into the hallway. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
“When back did you come?” Catalyst asks.
“Are you trying to do a Yoda impression?” Starmaster answers. He looks ahead to the doorway Poundcake lays in wait behind, anxious to be rid of the final Star Force occupant. “I got back a few minutes ago.”
Catalyst rubs the back of his neck. “Short trip. BADGE many questions for you two will have.”
Passing the threshold of the door, Starmaster stopped and turned to face Catalyst. “I’ve already spoken to BADGE. It wasn’t anything important.”
A shrill, nauseating squeal breaks all throughout the otherwise quiet hallway. Starmaster and Poundcake bring their hands to their ears, their faces twisted in pain.
Catalyst stood calmly between them, twisting a dial on a small electronic device in his hands. His mouth moved as if he spoke, but neither of the other two could understand a word he said. After a few seconds, Frosting melted out of his impersonation of Starmaster as he and Poundcake fell unconscious.
*****
BADGE transport vehicles pulled away from the Star Force Observatory as Chaz Hamilton and Chained Angel looked on.
“So, they wanted to infiltrate a league HQ and upload a virus into the Stellar Battle’s ranking program?” Chaz asked.
“Yes,” Chained Angel nodded. “We found the computer drive with the program. It seems like they wanted to alter the matches to put certain opponents into unplanned combats. Our belief is they meant to use these modified challenges to skew the odds for multiple gambling organizations. With knowledge like that in advance of the fights, millions could be made.”
“But why make us think there would be an attack on the arena itself?”
Chained Angel brought up a hand and then tapped Chaz against his back with a wingtip. “Misdirection. BADGE and we would be looking for one thing while something entirely different was going on. Luckily, they didn’t predict that Catalyst would be able to recognize that Frosting wasn’t Starmaster.”
“How did he?” Chaz hadn’t figured that out from all the details the Star Force shared for his story.
“As you know, Catalyst was born deaf. The appliance that was implanted to replace his hearing is extremely sensitive. Sensitive enough to hear heartbeats and changes in biorhythms. In some ways, he is a walking lie detector.” Chained Angel waved at Catalyst who had returned to working on the sentinel in the garage. “He not only knew it wasn’t Starmaster but he could hear Poundcake waiting behind the doorway. He’s always talked about wanting to test a sonic-debilitating device. I guess he got his chance.”
Chaz typed the additional details into his pad. “Are you going after Eli Hendricks now? That seems to be the final thread left to this story. How does he tie into all of this?”
“We’ll find him eventually.” Chained Angel smiled at Chaz. “But we need to head up for the League War soon. Will we see you up there?”
“I don’t know. The Chief is pretty sore at me right now.” Chaz tucked his tablet into his backpack. “I’d have to have a pretty good angle to get him to overlook what just happened at the Sentinel building.”
*****
The arena for the Stellar Battle filled one of multiple computer screens. Chaz and Chained Angel filled another, along with video from a reception at the new orbital city and several other current events around the world. A gloved hand pressed a button and the images at the Star Force Observatory cut out, replaced by a helmeted face. “It looks like we will have to proceed to our third objective. They discovered my efforts to infiltrate the arena’s systems.”
“No matter,” a chilling, alien voice replied. “They will never expect what I have in store for them”
Malicious laughter echoes over the speakers and is joined by a second chorus of amusement. “No, I don’t believe they shall.”
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