DarkBeast.com :: Forums :: Post New Message :: Board
This message Premiere #33: Mission Control was posted by Another quarter heard from courtesy of... the Hooded Hood 9and also featuring a brand new Dancer pic) on Saturday, September 28, 2002 at 07:15.
Premiere #33: Mission Control
This episode contains swearing.
Premiere Archive (Previous episodes)
Who's Who in the Technoverse
The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom
Who's Who in the Parodyverse
Sergeant-at-Arms was a brute of a man altered by cybernetic surgery to have ten additional fighting appendages grafted to his spine. He strode in front of the new recruits with military arrogance and glared at them with ill-concealed contempt.
“So,” he snarled. “You pussies are the best this planet has to offer, are you? I’ve wiped turds off my boots that could fight better than you. Prime Originator, it’s no wonder this world is falling on its back and spreading its legs like a whore on payday if you’re an example of the caliber of combatants.”
He strode along the line of new recruits, making eye contact with each one, making sure they knew who was in charge. “I am Sergeant-at-Arms. For fifteen years I have trained and assessed science heroes – real warriors, men and women with heart and guts and fire in their bellies. They came here like you as little mewling pukes who thought their powers made them something special. They sweated and they bled and sometimes they died to satisfy me. And the best of them went on to make a name for themselves. Unlikely as it is, you asswipes will be given the same chance.”
He stopped in front of Hell Hairdresser. “What in the Originator’s name are you supposed to be, son?”
“Me? I’m Hell Hairdresser. I can control any follicle within a ten yard radius and I’ve taken on big names like Fetish Lad and, well, Fetish Lad really.”
Sergeant of Arms nodded paternally. Then, faster than the eye could see, his appendages reached down and ripped out the Hairdresser’s testicles and heart in that order. “We got no room for losers in this outfit, son,” he told the bleeding corpse. “Only two kinds of soldiers in the new Technopolis army. Good ones and dead ones.”
He moved along to the next man in line, the pale and trembling Killer Elf. “And you?”
“Killer Elf, sir. I’m a half-faerie that… urk!”
“Ain’t no fairies in my outfit, boy,” Man-at-Arms told the second corpse as it slumped to the floor in a bloody mess. “We’re at war, ladies, and we don’t have the time to start doing corrective psychosurgery on every deviant and motherfucker amongst you. Those of you that survive this little training camp get to join the Red Watchman’s elite and do whatever you please under his orders to the stupid sheep of this backwater dung-world. The rest can join these dead losers in the recycling plants.”
He walked along to another of the new recruits. “You?” he demanded of the tall woman with the braided hair who stood in a casual but alert manner as he approached.
“Pegasus,” she replied. “And if you twitch those arms towards me then you’ll be needing corrective surgery to get them out of your orifices.”
“Oh,” nodded Man-at-Arms. “A smartass. There’s always one in every intake. Thinks they’re tough as selenite and mean as Biohazard. But they learn.”
His arms moved in another swift blur. Pegasus moved faster, caught him by the throat, and released a cosmic blast that took his head off.
“Bring us a new instructor,” she demanded of the science police guard that watched in shocked amazement. “This one is defective.”
___________________________________
Dr Zalas looked up from his comm-pad with a certain disbelief in his face. “You have quite a file, Penelope Christadopolous.”
“Pegasus,” the woman answered him. “I am the Pegasus. The other is just a name use when I pretend to be human.”
“You used to be field leader of the Scourge, I see. What happened to them?”
“They were retconned from reality by the Hooded Hood. I don’t like the Hooded Hood.”
“But this file also says you are a personal friend of some of this world’s leading science heroes.”
“So?”
“So isn’t it a little strange that you should seek to join us here in Technopolis when we will be sending you out to kill your world’s science heroes?”
Pegasus shrugged. “A mission is a mission. I do what I have to do to get the job done.”
“And you felt you had to sear off Master-at-Arms’ head and cripple four other science police operatives in order to get my attention?”
“It got the job done, didn’t it?” the warrior challenged. “I don’t audition for my place in the team like VelcroVixen. I have other skills.”
Zalas swallowed as he remembered how Vicki Vee had claimed her place in the Technopolitan hierarchy. “Hmm, well, the point is that we can hardly trust you to join us without some guarantor of your behavior. We shall have to fit you with an obedience chip.” He paused as if waiting for something. “Aren’t you going to leap forward and assault me now?”
“Through that high-power forcefield you have concealed between us?” Pegasus asked. “What would the point be? In the fifteen and a half seconds it would take my cosmic bolts to shatter it you would have doubtless run away somewhere else.”
The leader of the Science Council nodded approvingly. “Very good. Very good indeed. You come with some excellent credentials, Pegasus, and we are eager to recruit entities from this world’s adjacent subdimensions for the time when we extend our program there. But we will require that you submit to a behavior modification implant.”
Pegasus scowled at the man in the white lab coat. “Very well,” she hissed. “Get on with it.”
___________________________________
“Hey! Hey Pegasus! Remember me?” called Quake, the multi-powered villain from the future.
“Yes,” admitted the new arrival in the metahuman military barracks. “Still haven’t conquered halitosis in the twenty-second century, I see.”
“Huh? So you got smart and joined these Technopolis dudes too? They have some science that makes even my time look backward and they’re seriously going to take over the world.”
“So it appears,” Pegasus conceded, stalking past him to find a suitably private locker area. “Won’t that mean that your own future never exists, thereby rendering you to oblivion?” And she moved on.
“Ah, Pegasus,” another villain called to her. “I wondered whether you would be joining us.”
The winged woman turned to see the Confiscator breaking down one of his custom rifles. “I wondered whether you would ever come out of hiding after Dark Knight threatened you last time,” she noted. “Do you really suppose the Red Watchman will be able to keep him inside that plascrete lump forever?”
The assassin didn’t seem concerned. “The world has changed, Pegasus. The old order can’t win this one. A man’s got to think about the future. I’m thinking rulership of Tahiti.”
“I’m thinking you are a sad old man, your glory days behind you, coat-tailing the powerful in the hopes of receiving some of the scraps from his feast of conquest,” Pegasus answered dismissively. “And I think that this time the Dark Knight will probably kill you.”
“Bitch,” Confiscator muttered under his breath after she’d gone.
He brooded for a little while longer then sidled up to the Technopolitan science villain Animator. “Hey, Desek, dear boy… You have override access to obedience chip commands codes, don’t you? Well I happen to know of a very sexy little newbie who needs to be taught a few lessons in life…”
___________________________________
Animator came for Pegasus in the middle of the night, overriding the locks on her quarters with the same codes he could use to demand abject obedience of anyone implanted with a behaviour chip. “Wake up,” he told the winged woman who lay on the bed. “It’s fun time.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “What did you have in mind?”
Animator told her in elaborate detail.
“Hmm,” Pegasus considered. “I had a different program in mind. It starts with you screaming a lot and it ends with Confiscator waking up to find your severed head watching him from his pillow.”
“How amusing,” Animator mocked. “On your knees now, angel-lady.”
“That’s Pegasus,” she told him. “I’m a shape-shifter. I have a fully human form, a hybrid winged human shape, a winged centaur form, and a full winged horse avatar. This is me as winged human.” She didn’t fall to her knees. “Unlike your science-based metamorphs I change shape by magic. Wounds in one form are mitigated in another. A control chip implanted in my human body isn’t there is my other shapes.”
Suddenly she was at the door as a huge winged centaur pinning Animator to the wall. “And that means that it’s time for you to start screaming,” she told him.
___________________________________
“Scramble, scramble, scramble!” Majordomo shouted to raise the new recruits from their beds. “We have a Code Crimson situation! I want all you science operatives ready for full combat in three minutes.”
Pegasus looked round to see who else was there. She noticed that Quake and Confiscator, earlier inductees, had already left on their assignments. The fifty or so Parodyverse metahumans left with their Technopolis training staff were all from her time of recruitment or after.
“What’s the situation, boss?” Manseed demanded as they hurried to parade.
“We have an incursion,” Majordomo instructed them. “A big incursion. Premiere.”
“He was your first science hero, yes?” Pegasus remembered, thinking of the orientation lessons. “And one of your most powerful?”
“Yes. He’s in the city. And it’s our job to bring him down.”
Some of the new recruits looked at each other nervously. This wasn’t the easy conquest they had joined for.
Pegasus smiled at last. “Excellent,” she said.
___________________________________
The Technopolitians’ strategy was obvious but logical. Their heavy hitters like Steel Enforcer, Iron Monk, and Blast Zone were keeping Premiere off-balance and confined. Meanwhile the lesser fighters were being poured in to soften him up before each being annihilated. The Science Council were wisely sending in the chip-controlled comrades he might reasonably be expected to hesitate against and then bringing up the Parodyverse recruits with whose powers he would be less familiar.
The battle had already raged for four hours through the Exelis district and was moving on now to downtown Selimax.
“Clear people back,” Pegasus told Majordomo. “I’m going in.”
Shifting to her fighting centaur form she formed a cosmic bolt, holding the glowing blue sphere between her hands until it built in strength sufficient to shatter a mountain. When she loosed it it screamed into Premiere like a thunderbolt from God.
“Good,” encouraged Majordomo. “Again.”
Pegasus flew directly over the downed hero and hammered a second blast straight downwards. It pounded him through the superstructure of the city into the dark underbasements filled with the conduits and ducts that regulated the civilization above.
Then Pegasus’ wings burst into flame as Premiere focussed his thermal spray on her and she plunged down after him into the darkness below.
Premiere moved with amazing speed, forcing Pegasus to redirect her cosmic energies just to react fast enough to avoid fists that could crumple a battleship. She struck back but found that all her vaunted strength didn’t even scratch him. Her combat prowess was superior to his, but not by much. His physical abilities were far in excess of hers.
“Listen carefully,” she told him as she danced aside from another volley of hits. The man was exhausted, she could tell, and that was why she was still alive. “I’m here on a mission. Your civil war and the invasion of Earth mean very little to me. My sponsors, the Constellation, are only concerned about the interdimensional imbalance of such a massive estate transfer as your people performed to bring this city here. How do I make sure that those dimensional engines are never used again?”
Premiere smashed her back into the tangled wreckage of a recycling plant. “You don’t,” he told her. “I need to use those engines to take my people home.”
“I can’t allow that,” Pegasus warned him, bracketing him with a spray of lesser cosmic bolts. “Help me find and destroy those engines and I’ll help you get out of here and fight that Science Council.”
“No deal,” Premiere told her, shattering the wall to drop in on his adversary. He jerked his head to one side as he heard more enemies approaching. “Damn, it’s the Tech Pack now in hunter/killer mode. Perfect!”
“I’ll do it whether you help me or not,” Pegasus warned.
Premiere looked at her almost sadly. “No,” he told her. “You won’t.”
And almost gently he swept past her guard, reached out, and snapped her neck.
Then the next wave of attackers rushed in at him.
This poster posed from 212.159.41.181 when they posted
Message Thread
- Premiere #33: Mission Control - Another quarter heard from courtesy of... the Hooded Hood 9and also featuring a brand new Dancer pic) - 07:15 on September 28, 2002
- - (nt) - 07:16 on September 28, 2002
Post A Message
DarkBeast.com :: Forums :: Post New Message :: Board