Friday, 27 February 2015

1.8 Assassins Part 3

Most of them have come. There is Britannia, Warden, Dreadnought, Green Knight, Merlin, Robyn Hood, Dreadnought, Multitude, Spectre and Eternal.

Ten of the thirteen Albion Defenders. Well, they are based nearby enough so they would have left London when I started fighting Nightblade.

Britannia and Warden are flying while the rest are in one of the Defender jets, a lesser copy of the League jet.

I look back down at Nightblade. He’s running in the opposite direction of the Riley house.

I land on the ground and Britannia flies down next to me, gazing her sister’s house. She looks uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“So now what?” I ask her.

“I don’t know,” mutters Britannia quietly, “I never, it’s just... I never expected this to happen. I just don’t know what to do.”

You can hear the hopeless despair in her voice.

“They could stay at the base,” I say, “We got more than enough room and they would be totally safe. And once things settle down they could always go and live somewhere else if they wanted to.”

She looks at me before sighing in regret.

“I’ll speak with my family,” says Britannia, “Thanks for the offer.”

“That was good thing to do,” says Aunt Mary as she lands on the other side of me and Britannia walks towards her sister’s house.

“Yeah,” I reply quietly, “But the others don’t have a clue about it.”

“Spontaneous?” inquires Mary

“Yes, but I don’t regret it,” I tell her.

“We were discussing what to do about it when we found out about Nightblade,” notes Mary sourly, “We never even considered the possibly of someone going after her family or even bothered to post protection.”

The local police have now shown up.

“I’m going back home,” I say as I fly up into the air, “I need to speak with the others and I got stuff to do.”


“Did you even think to check with any of us?” demands Lucy.

We’re all sit around the table, all of the new Leaguers.

“I came up with the idea on spot,” I reply, “I wouldn’t change if I what I said even if I could. It was the right thing to do.”

Lucy looks ready to argue the point further, but Sam cuts in.

“I agree with Daniel,” says Sam, “I know how I feel if my identity was revealed and I would wanted to protect my family. I know you would all feel the same.”

“First they might not even stay here,” I say, “But if they do, we’ll have to find out how much they know about us. We’ll work out what to do from there depending on how thing develop.”

“Any idea who is behind it?” asks James.

“Britannia’s identity going public?” I reply, “Not a clue. I tracked the source down to being originally leaked in America, but beyond that nothing. My gut says it is whoever built the machine and placed the bounties on us is behind it. But that might be me just being paranoid.”

“It could be one of Britannia’s enemies responsible,” suggests Sky.

“What about Nightblade?” asks Sam.

“I believe he was hired by whoever was behind the leak,” I answer, “That’s the only way he could have been hired to go after Britannia’s family like that so soon. I’m not entirely certain Nightblade was trying to kill them by the way. He might have been trying to capture them, but I can say that for sure.”

“What were you doing over there so quickly anyway Daniel?” inquires Helen.

“I had help the police stop an armed fight between a couple of gangs in Salisbury when I found out about the leak,” I tell them, “The situation was under control there so I decided to make sure Britannia’s family was safe when I found out they’re details and addresses were leaked as well.”

“Lucky for them,” mutters Sky.

“So now what?” asks Sam as he looks around the table.

“We get on with our lives and wait for things to progress further,” I say, “And keep an eye out for Nightblade since he got away.”

We all get up. I head for the lab while the others go off in different directions, mostly to the exits.

“Daniel, wait up,” says Charlie from behind me.

“Yes?” I reply as I turn around.

“I want to talk to you about the Bulk armour,” says Charlie.


We both walk to the lab. Once inside, I sit down in the chair at the workbench, my usual spot in the lab.

“So what about the Bulk armour?” I inquire.

“Well I figured that as it is too big for anything apart from the big such we should adapt for the big stuff,” says Charlie, “You know, some of the stuff Grandpa had on his armour such as missiles and heavy weaponry. In case I have to fight anything like the Machine again.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” I reply thoughtfully, “I’ve been meaning to put some heavier firepower into the Sentinel armour for the same reasons. Last time I clashed with the Machine, I almost got killed. Only Darrac and Lanterns saved me from death.”

“The space pirate,” says Charlie with a nod.

“Right, I-” I pause as my communicator beeps.

It acts as my super advanced phone and is disguised as a smart phone. If people ask me what make, I tell them it’s a custom design I created myself. Which is true.

“What now?” I complain out loud to no one in particular. 

Tuesday, 24 February 2015

1.8 Assassins Part 2

It shows an American news report from a website. What the report is about makes me both angry and worried.

Britannia Revealed as Elizabeth Greene

That is bad. Really bad.

I read onwards. The rest of it is about Britannia, both her cape identity and her normal one. Including her personal details such as her facebook page, address and her family.

Not that I’m worried about Britannia. As a Class 5 flying brick, she can take anything her enemies can throw at her just as well out of costume as she can in costume.

Her family on the other hand is a different matter. They’re all non-supers living in Surrey.

I really ought to get over there and make sure no one goes after of them in light of this revelation.

I look down at the situation below. Most of the gangsters are in cuffs and there are about twenty officers on the scene now.

I zoom off towards Surrey. If I’m lucky, it’ll between fifty and sixty minutes for me to reach the house of Britannia’s sister.

I decide to spend my time on the flight looking up the information. The report is now circulating between countless news networks throughout the world, but as originated in America. Beyond that, I can’t find out any more information about its source, but my gut says it is my secret mastermind.

As for Britannia’s family, she has a sister called Jane Riley who married to a teacher called Mark Riley. They have two daughters, one twelve, the other nine, and a three year old boy.

All appear to be at home at this point in time.

I wonder whether they know about Britannia or this is a shock to them. I hope it’s the former.

If worse comes to the worse, I think they could live in the base. Granddad made it fully functional for people to live in there long term. In case something happened like League’s identities being discovered or a nuclear attack.

It has enough bedrooms, several internal power sources, an underground farm and forest, living space, an underground water supply and plenty of other stuff.

I receive no calls while I’m flying. I expect someone to call me about Britannia’s identity being revealed.

I’m actually a bit surprise when I reach Guildford, the town Britannia’s family lives, without anybody speaking to me. I expected at least Narszara or Sam to contact me.

Oh and if you’re wondering how I kept myself busy on the long flight, I just tried to solve some technical problems.

It’s about quarter to twelve now. I hover over the cul-de-sac where the Riley family lives. All of them are inside their house at the moment. I scan the area for threats as I think about what to do next.

Then I spot him. A man is sneaking along the rooftops in full black body armour and a black armoured mask. I recognise the assassin instantly.


He’s a former Australian commando from WWII. During the war he became an enhanced human like the Paragon or Captain Noble. He stayed with the military for a few years before becoming a mercenary and an assassin for hire.

He must be going after Britannia’s family.

But he couldn’t have gotten here so quickly after the news report, especially if someone hired him. If I had to guess, he was hired by whoever released the news report to the public. Probably so the public would understand who the Riley family were when they are murdered.

Not on my watch.

I zoom in at Nightblade as he tries to leap onto the roof the Riley house. I slam into him and we both crash into the middle of the cul-de-sac. I jump away from the assassin as we both get to our feet.

Nightblade draws a pair of blade swords, both customs. One side is straight while the other side is curved. The blades are just over two foot long while the hilts are like those of a katana.

Nightblade looks at me and dashes forward without a word. I block his with my fists. With my armour, I can block his blades with arms and legs.

I roll back and fire my lasers at his swords. One of the lasers cuts one of blades in half.

From then one we fight in the middle of the cul-de-sac, using a mixture of swords, martial arts and other forms of combat.

Nightblade has his swords, is an enhanced human and has decades of combat experience while I got the Sentinel armour and have been trained to fight by the world’s greatest fighter since about the time I started infant school.

It’s been a few minutes before the fight reaches its conclusion. I grab Nightblade’s unbroken sword with my fist and snap it.  Unfortunately this gives Nightblade an opening.

“Good skill,” says Nightblade in his gruff voice before he kicks me in the chest, sending backwards.

It would have worked if it weren’t for one little thing.

I can fly.

Using the rocket pack, I fly forwards through the air and aim my sonics at Nightblade as I do.

“I can fly dumbo,” I yell at him as I fire the sonics at him.

He tries to dodge, but Nightblade can’t move faster than the speed of sound.

He drops his swords as he staggers away. Nightblade draws a custom pistol from his belt and fires at me a few times.

The bullets ding off the Sentinel armour. I’m about to swoop down on Nightblade when the Albion Defenders arrive.

Friday, 20 February 2015

1.8 Assassins Part 1

After a first hectic week and a half of our superhero career, things seem to settle down. No more supervillain battles and people begun to begrudgingly treat us seriously now. The roles within the League of Heroes sort of settled down as well.

The Walters, Charlie and Helen haven’t formed a reserve role as per such, but I don’t seem to interact with them in the field much despite Helen being my cousin and Charlie and I spending a lot of time in the lab together. It doesn’t help that Helen has a part-time job and multiple college courses outside of the League as a legal adult. The Walters are still the youngest members of the League that means they stay out of a lot of it and the sheer size of the Bulk armour means that Charlie is rarely able to use it non-destructively.

Lucy is our speedster while James is our telepath. I’m the tech guy whilst Vance, Stefan and Skyler are frontliners. Samuel is our heavy hitter and Narszara is our ultra-heavy hitter.

As for leaders, the role sort has fallen between Sam and me.

Not that we’re leading much. Most of what we do is simple stuff. Villains seem to be keeping their heads down as they have usually done in the past. Not much supervillain action except for what the other teams face since all of the country’s major villains are locked up in prison.

Can’t say I don’t prefer it that way. Not having someone trying to pound your face into the ground is rather pleasant.

Not that you would ever think for some strange reason.

No, what we have been doing is basically helping out the police. Helping subdue violent suspects, stopping high-speed chases, using the League resources to identify criminals and that sort of stuff. Most of the time it is overkill, but sometimes things can get really dangerous.

For example, that was this guy in a Ford that went over 100 Mph and drove along the pavement outside a school. Sam stopped him when he used his telekinesis to pick up the tireless and banged up vehicle. The man even tried to run after he jumped out of the floating car.

He got two metres before Sam picked him up as well.

The trial over that is still ongoing.

Speaking about trials, Vengeance’s trial has finally started today. Not that I’m worried about it as under local laws regarding supers, it is an open and shut case. They are a lot stricter on the supers that kill non-supers than those that don’t.

An alert starts flashing on the main screen as I work on a new upgrade to the Sentinel armour. I’m trying to make a sort of wrist mounted grappling lines or something like that. Just in case I lose the rocket pack in the middle of a fight again. Plus grappling lines are pretty cool.

I look up at it. It’s an internal alert activated by a subroutine in the base computer set up by Granddad and recently reactivated by me. Using a variety of resources such as police radio, news reports and more recently social media, it sends out alerts to base or Leaguers on patrol.

I activate to see if it’s worth my time.

Several information displays pop up on the screen, giving the majority of information such as locations and danger assessments.

This time it’s a meeting between members of two hostile gangs on the outskirts of Salisbury. An 87% chance of violence with a 72% chance of armed violence. I should probably check it out just in case.

A superhero showing up has recently proven to be an extremely good deterrent from resisting arrest.

I suit up. I’ve given up on trying to speed up the process of putting on the Sentinel armour. Between my normal life, superheroing, school and my other projects, I got too much to do and just isn’t really worth the time and effort.

“This is the Sentinel,” I say over the League comm, “I’m checking out the latest alert.”

That’s our new standard thing to do, broadcasting over the League comm when we’re responding to an alert so the others know.

I fly out. It’s about midmorning so a lot of people look up as I fly overhead.

Not that I’m bothered. Personally I don’t care either way what people think when I go out in the Sentinel armour.

The police are already arriving and the gangs have already engaged each other in combat when I arrive over the scene.

There are six police officers and twenty six gangsters, eleven on one side and fifteen on the other. About half of the gangsters have sharp blades such as knifes while the rest have blunt objects such as bats and golf clubs.

Five of the gangsters already down on the ground and I can’t say that none aren’t seriously hurt.

Good thing I showed up when I did because I doubt it would have been long before someone died.

I turn on the armour’s PA system.

“This the Sentinel,” booms my voice as I lower myself closer to the ground and into sight, but still remaining in the air, “Surrender yourselves to the police! I will deal with any attempts to resist or flee.”

Thankfully the majority of them comply as the police move in and more arrive. Three of the gangsters do try to flee however

I lock onto them with my HUD and send out three electro-spyders to take them down. All three drop as they are electrocuted.

For me, the funny thing is that all of this is illegal. The League of Heroes is private organisation and unlike the Defenders, Highlanders or Guardians, its members count as civilians, not government authorised agents.

In practice, we’re been around since the late forties, even longer if you count the League founders working together in WWII. So people consider it normal for the League to what it does and there would be an uproar if an official or politician tried to stop us.

It’s also the same reason we don’t get sued. While there aren’t a lot of official laws regarding what we do, there are certainly a lot of unofficial rules.

So here I am, having just illegally taken down three men whilst technically being unprovoked and the police are grateful for my help and the people will cheer me on when they hear about it.

A high alert flashes up on my HUD.

Tuesday, 17 February 2015

1948 - Luke

Luke walks down the streets of Lyndhurst. His hair is a ruffled mess of short brown hair while his eyes are a sharp blue. The RAF veteran is in his early twenties and is in the peak of normal human health.
Well, not quite the peak. He isn’t an enhanced human after all.
So he’s not superhuman, but he as close as any normal person can get with his Sentinel armour.
Or he was. The military and government confiscated it after the war, claiming it belong to them as they had paid for it. Which, to be fair, was actually true even if Luke had been the one to invent, design, maintain, repair and use the suit of armour.
Still, he’s got the old prototype in his cellar that the authorities don’t know about. And it isn’t like he can’t design and build another if he has to.
But that’s in the past, thinks Luke, today I am having coffee with Gordon, my old war buddy. Well, Gordon is having coffee at least, I personally prefer tea. Milk with no sugar to be precise.
Gordon is waiting at the local cafe. The man is in his late twenties, but appears older thanks to his scars and choice of clothing. A short mane of black hair and a mildly buff body are Gordon’s main features. The miss-match of scars covering his body aren’t apparent until you get a closer look.
Luke got his closer look when Gordon needed medical attention a few years back in the middle of the war.
Today, like Luke, Gordon is wearing a tucked in shirt and rugged trousers. Unlike Luke, Gordon is also wearing a brown woollen coat.
“Hello Luke,” greets Gordon as Luke enters the shop.
“Hello to you too Gordon,” replies Luke before taking a seat at Gordon’s table.
“Shall I order?” asks Gordon, “I take it that you’ll have your usual.”
“Tea with milk and no sugars,” nods Luke.
Luke looks around. The place is quieter than usual. At least quieter than Luke what remembers.
It’s not long before Gordon returns with a cup of tea in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He hands the tea to Luke before sitting back down.
“Do I wanted to know where you got the money from?” inquires Luke.
“Probably not,” grins Gordon.
“True,” says Luke as he takes a sip of tea, “So how is Linda?”
“She’s fine,” says Gordon, “My wife is looking after Charles back at the house.”
“How is Charles?” asks Luke.
“The lad is a healthy kid,” replies Gordon, “He’ll make a fine replacement.”
“How does Linda feel about that?” inquires Luke.
“She knew it was going to happen,” shrugs Gordon, “Linda isn’t bother by it. Especially since it is so far off. How’s your wife?”
“We’re fine,” Luke replies, “I’m going to start my own business.”
“What about the suit?” inquires Gordon.
“I got the prototype,” Luke answers, “And I been working on my base as well.”
“You’re getting back into the game,” notes Gordon, “You wouldn’t have built the underground bunker otherwise.”
“I might not wear the suit,” counters Luke, “I might just run the place while the others do their stuff.”
“You’re taking my training,” insists Gordon, “And you’re not the type to sit out of a fight.”
“I don’t even have any reason to wear the suit anymore,” disagrees Luke.
“Here comes your reason now,” says Gordon as he leans back in his chair.
Luke turns around to spot a man in a striped suit and a bowler hat enter the shop. Despite being well dress, the man has a grubby feel to him in Luke’s expert opinion.
The man strolls up to the counter as if he owns the place. The workers and manager seems to be extremely worried. A couple that were drinking some coffee quickly hurry out of the building.
Indignation fills Luke as recognises what is going on. A mob protection racket in his hometown.
To be honest, Lyndhurst isn’t quite his hometown as he was born and raised in Southampton and he currently lives in Ashurst with his wife, but the principle remains the same.
“Excuse me,” says Luke to Gordon as he gets to his feet.
For his part, Gordon nods and grins.
As the manager begins to hand over notes to the mobster, Luke walks up to the man.
“Hello,” says Luke as he taps the man on the back.
Surprised, the man turns around. He glares at Luke and takes him in before he smirks smugly. 
“Who do you think you are?” demands the mobster.
“The war vet who didn’t come home to put up with a protection racket in this village,” replies Luke coldly, “Leave before I make up.”
“As if a punk like you could,” snorts the man, “Stay out of our way or you and your family might suffer accidents.”
He tries to shove Luke away, but Luke grabs the man and tosses him over his shoulder. Before the man can get up, Luke punches him in the head a couple of times, leaving the mobster out cold.
Luke looks outside as the police sirens bellow from outside.
“I called them,” says Gordon, “Now come and finish your tea.”
Luke got the Sentinel armour prototype out that night.
It isn’t much, lacking the rocket pack, weighing more and having a thicker and bulker design. But it still has the Kinetic Energy Redirectors and increases the speed and strength of the wear.
Oh and it has bulletproof armour that saved his life and countless others who knows how many times.
Luke is currently waiting near the coffee shop at about ten at night. The place is just shutting up for the night and Luke expects to the mob to send more people, either to get their money and/or to make an example.
He’s not overly worried about the threats the mobster made against his family. His parents are protected and his brother lives in America. His wife was a leader in the French Resistance during the war and has superpowers of her own.
A car rolls up outside and a group of three mobsters get out. Each is supporting sidearms. Probably leftovers from the war that was discard once it ended.
“Alright,” says the leader of the group, “You know the plan. We take double for our trouble and get the address of the tea-drinking hero. You can ruff the folks here up a bit, but no more that a bit.”
“Got it Jeremy,” grunts one of the other men.
Time to make his entrance, thinks Luke as he steps out of the shadows and towards the mobsters.
All of them draw their pistols and stare wide-eyed at Luke. They definitely weren’t expecting a famous superpowered war hero to show up tonight.
And the best part, thinks Luke, is that all of this is all illegal so he can roughen up the men as much as he likes. And with his secret identity, the authorities or mob won’t be able to go after him. At least he hopes the authorities won’t.
“*&@# this,” curses the mobsters’ leader, Jeremy, “Back off mister. We don’t want any trouble and we’ll shoot you if we have to.”
Bad move, thinks Luke, a harmless threat and a reason for Luke to beat them up.
“If you didn’t want any trouble,” says Luke, the voice changer masking his normal voice, “The mob should have stayed away from my hometown.”
“Damn you,” shouts one of the other men and opens fire on Luke.
The bullets ping against the Sentinel armour, leaving small dents as Luke charges forward. He slams into the man, sending him flying into the car.
Luke swings his fist into another mobster’s gut, winding the man and making him drop his pistol.
He turns to face the mobster called Jeremy and reaches out and yanks his pistol out of his hand.
“Who do you work for?” demands Luke.
“You won’t hurt me,” quivers Jeremy, “Y-you’re one of the heroes.”
Luke kicks the man in the leg. Jeremy drops to the ground crying.
“Who do you work for?” repeats Luke.
“Mr Thorpe,” cries Jeremy from the ground, “Lucas Walton Thorpe. I don’t know anyone else.”
“Here come the police,” says a bystander from inside the coffee shop.
Luke looks down the road. Two police constables are running down the road.
Checking to make sure none of the mobsters are going anywhere, Luke places a trio of spyder-bots on the car so he can track it later.

With that done and his business tonight concluded, the Sentinel runs off into the night.

Friday, 13 February 2015

1.7 Bounty Hunters Part 5

“It was interesting,” answers Narszara, “There were only three of us. Myself, Warden and Robyn Hood. The Syndicate had over a score of people and four supers. A Class 2 illusionist, a Class 3 Mind Controller, a Class 3 Acid Shooter and a Class 4 Telekinetic. They needed me to defeat the supers while they bested the normal foes. It was rather fun. Then we went to the Great Lion for a drink. I still did not get any mead much to my disappointment Have you heard about the others yet?”

“No,” I whisper as my stomach plummets.

Are the others in trouble? Did anyone get hurt?

“There were two different fights that were involved in,” explains Narszara, “Vision, Commando, Accelerate and Storm Knight fought a villain known as Gravilord while the rest fought a woman called Gaia’s Vengeance. No one other than the villains was hurt and there was minimal property damage.”

“Excellent,” I says with a sigh of relief.

Nobody back home got hurt other than some supervillains. After my brush with death, I can’t begin to tell you how relieved I am.

“Indeed,” agrees Narszara, “I shall meet you back at our base.”

She cuts the connection. I look at Sam. I called Narszara on a private channel so he didn’t overhear us.

“The rest of the League had their own adventures while we were away,” I tell him.

“What happened?” asks Sam, always eager for an exciting story.

“Narszara helped out a couple of the Defenders against the Baglio Syndicate while James, Skyler, Lucy and Stefan fought Gravilord while the Walters, Charlie and Helen took down Gaia’s Vengeance,” I answer, “I doubt any of them had it as hard as we did.”

“You mean none of us had it as hard as you,” corrects Sam with a frown, “You flow the Star Guardian up there and the only one who knew what he was doing. Then you investigated the second signal after I flew off on my own. You beat Spartan and his people after he attacked you. I figured that much out on my own by the way. I’m not stupid you know. And you held your own against the Machine without any help. Well you didn’t die at least.”

“I almost did,” I mutter quietly and a shiver goes down my back, “And I have help from Darrac and Spartan. That was the only reason I survived.”

A week and a half into my superhero career and I’ve already killed and almost died more than once.

Then again, no one said being a superhero was easy or fun and games. In fact, most of them warned me about this aspect of leading this sort of life.

Not that I would trade the Sentinel armour and the League of Heroes away for anything mind you.

“Do you realise the time?” asks Sam, “My visor says it’s almost nine.”

I groan. Dad is going to kill me for this.

“Don’t worry,” says Janelle suddenly, “I was contacted by Laura Aquiline. She has informed Sentinel’s family that you three were with her today for some defence training.”

Thank goodness for Laura. I’ve forgotten out many times she has gotten me of trouble in private life because of things from superhero life.

“Bring down Vance,” I yell up to the cockpit, “I got to get out of this armour and get home as quick as possible.

It takes a few minutes for us to land. Skyler and James are waiting for us.

“You guys won’t believe...” starts Skyler before her voice trails off as she spots me, “Looks like you had it worse.”

“I know you two and Stefan and Lucy fought Gravilord and the others fought Gaia’s Vengeance,” I reply, “I fought space pirates, Spartan and his people and the Machine. Vance didn’t fight anyone and Sam saved me from the Machine. Also Narszara fought the Baglio Syndicate along a couple of the Defenders.”

“We know about Narszara and the Defenders,” says Sky as she rolls her eyes, “I want to know what put the Sentinel into this shape.”

“The Machine,” I tell her, “Totally had me on the ropes. If it weren’t for Sam or Darrac, I would have died. Oh, let me tell you about Darrac, he’s a Neriarr space pirate.”

“A space pirate,” says Sky, “He doesn’t seem the sort of person respectable supers like us would hang out with. And what’s a Neriarr?”

“A Neriarr what the human sub-breeds created by the Sektain are called and Darrac is a licensed privateer for the Knights Hospitaller,” I reply.

“So maybe he is the sort of person respectable supers like us would hang out with,” concedes Sky, “Still what’s he like?”

“Dangerous and ruthless,” I reply, “Neriarr are the most dangerous and the most numerous type of human supers and Darrac isn’t an exception to that. I think he stands a good chance of defeating the Machine on his own if he didn’t have to worry about anyone else.”

“So when’s the Sentinel armour going to back running at full strength again?” asks James.

“I’m going to start working on it tomorrow,” I tell him, “Now please excuse me, I need to get changed and head home.”


“Had a good time at Laura’s?” asks Dad as I enter the house.

“Yeah,” I reply as I take my coat off, “A few lessons I been taught in the past finally got through today.”

“Sounds good,” says Dad, “Next time try to plan ahead. I prefer to be informed ahead of time you know.”

“I’ll remember that Dad,” I tell him, “But this was a bit on the go. And we never meant to be out so late. That just sort of happened.”

“Your mother and I worry for you Daniel,” says Dad, “You staying out this late worries us. I don’t know how we could cope if something happened to you because you were out on your own at the wrong time.”

“I know and don’t worry Dad,” I reassure him as head for the stairs, “Anybody who messes with me will find that they bitten much than they can chew.”

As I head upstairs to my room, I realise how I just avoided telling my dad the truth without actually lying to. Not the mention how much I hate that fact.

Tuesday, 10 February 2015

1.7 Bounty Hunters Part 4

Sam twists the Machine’s arm and I can hear the metal tearing and twisting. He grabs the Machine’s arm with his other hand and uses them both to yank off the Machine’s arm.

As Sam tosses it aside, the Machine punches Sam into the air with his other fist. I would have tried to help, but at this point, I have pretty much had it.

Not that the Machine gets a break either.

Darrac flies over the Machine again, this time with a trail of over twenty micro-missiles following him. Most of them slam into the Machine before it can react with only three going over the Machine’s head.

The Machine staggers backwards following the explosion, the armour and lasers on its chest a useless mess.

Then Sam zooms back down and grabs the Machine’s remaining arm with both hands. He gives it a good pull, yanking out and tossing it aside like he did with the other. Sam reaches down and rips away the remaining chest armour from the Machine.

Sensing it isn’t going to beat to Sam, the Machine uses its flight abilities to zoom along the deck and off the carrier.

Sam appears to be about to pursue, but takes one look at me and lands next to me. He puts a hand out for me and I grasp it with my left as my right arm is disabled.

“You’re in bad shape,” notes Sam.

“He had me on the ropes several times,” I say, “Without Spartan or Darrac, I would have been killed before you got here.”

“What were you doing here before the Machine came?” asks Sam with a glance at Spartan, who has landed not too far away.

I give Spartan a look and we lock eyes before I reply, “Nothing important.”

Darrac lands on the ground next to us. He’ is also pretty banged up.

“We should leave,” says Darrac matter of factly.

“I agree,” I reply, “Lantern, you need to carry me. The Machine took out my rocket pack early on.”

“Okay,” says Sam as he hooks his arms underneath my armpits.


I let Vance fly while I make some repairs to the armour in the Star Guardian. The ship doesn’t have the full resources of the lab back at base, but I can get the right arm of the Sentinel armour working again.

Mia got off at Sydney in Australia, her home city. We left her in the hands of the local heroes and authorities. Darrac took the Dust Corsair back to space while we headed home.

“What do you think will be waiting for us back home?” Sam asks me as we near the British Isles.

“Mary wanted to borrow Narszara for a mission and it’s pretty late so our parents might be worried.”

“Not mine,” says Sam, “Mum never married.”

“My mum knows, but my dad and sis don’t,” I say, “I’m going to be spending tomorrow getting the 
Sentinel armour back in working order.”

“I’m sure somebody will have an explanation for us to fall back on,” says Sam confidently, “Did you use your money to buy the stuff from Mia?”

I shake my head, “No. I used the Sentinel’s account. Using Daniel Griffin’s account would have been too traceable and just plain stupid.”

By the time we land, I have gotten both of the armour’s lasers working again in addition to the left arm’s sonics. The sonics of the right arm have been almost utterly destroyed and need to be rebuilt from scratch.

This means it’s going to be a while before Narszara’s suit is built.

I wonder what Narszara is doing now?

“Narszara,” I call her my comm.

“Yes milord?” comes the swift reply.

“How did your day go?” I ask her, “Because the Sentinel armour needs some serious repairs. We’re going to have to delay starting on your new armour.”

“I have aided the Defenders in repulsing an attempt by the Baglio Syndicate to gain a foothold in this nation,” replies Narszara, “What is the damage to the Sentinel armour?”

“Right sonic and rocket pack completely destroyed,” I answer, “The lasers and left sonic will need more serious repairs to be bought back to fully functioning. The helmet and HUD need fixing and entire outer armour needs replacing. The right arm also needs more extensive repairs as well.”

“Sounds like our upcoming days will be busy,” replies Narszara, “What happened?”

“The trip went well,” I reply, trying to make it sound like nothing major happened, “Then we got involved in fight between two groups of Sektain separatists. Next we made friends with some space pirates and I bought a good haul of Sektain equipment. I’m quite please with that. We went home with our new space pirate friends and investigated a couple of signals. An oil platform and Spartan’s aero-carrier.Spartan and his bounty hunters tried to capture me and my space pirate ally. It went poorly for them. Then the Machine showed up and beat up a few times. Darrac saved me a few times. Than Lantern showed up and save me and totally defeated the Machine again. We headed back home for proper after that.”

I pause for a moment.

“How was your mission?”

Friday, 6 February 2015

1.7 Bounty Hunters Part 3

“Another foe?” inquires Darrac.

“One of the worst,” I reply, “We fought once before. It took down the entire New League except for myself, Lantern and Narszara. I barely held my own and Lantern was the one who took it down. Do your best to destroy it.”

“Excellent,” says Darrac in a satisfied voice.

He flaps his wings and zooms at the Machine, flying close to deck. I grab one of the bounty hunters’ guns of the deck. Hopefully this will do some damage against the Machine.

Darrac turns at the last moment, dodging the Machine’s laser beams. He swipes one of the legs of the machine, leaving a light tears in the armour plating. The machine tries to swing a fist at Darrac, but he’s already out of range of any melee attacks.

I take that as my cue and pull the trigger on my borrowed gun. It turns out to be a semi-automatic that fires explosive rounds.

The shots dent the armour of the Machine, but do little beyond that. I’m not sure how to beat it with Sam or Narszara to help.

Perhaps if I-


The world spins as I fly forward. A red warning message flashes up on my HUD.

Warning: Rocket Pack Disabled                                        
Warning: Severe Damage to Back Armour Plating

What the heck hit me?

I stagger upright. The loss of the rocket pack as removed a lot of my options as well as most of my ability to dodge.

Damn Machine.

I look towards the Machine as its lasers begin to hit me. It’ll take a couple of minutes, but if the Machine keeps this up, it’ll burn through the Sentinel armour and start hitting fleshy stuff beneath.
I try to shield by face and chest with my armours, but it won’t bring my anymore time

That’s when Darrac swoops back in and stabs both of his forearm spikes into the disco ball head of the machine. Bolts of electricity leap out of the machine, electrocuting Darrac. He barely gets his spikes out when the Machine grabs his injured leg.

He grunts in pain and the Machine tosses him off of the edge of the carrier.

“No!” I shout as I aim my lasers at the Machine.

I get off a few ineffective hits before the Machine fires four of its missiles at me. I get a couple of goes off, hitting one, two and three of the missiles before the fourth explodes into a dozen micro-missiles.

Without my rocket pack, I don’t have much chance of dodging the missiles, but I try anyway.

I fail miserably.

I maybe dodged two, maybe three, but the rest slam into me. The explosion sends me flying backwards. I can’t take much more of this, no matter how great the Sentinel armour is.

My HUD flickers and several flashing warnings pop up as I smash face up into the deck. Sonics are both offline, lasers are both offline, right arm is disabled and serious damage to pretty much every piece of outer armour plating.

Oh and the thermal vision is offline as well.

It occurs to me that this might be it. My final fight only a week and a half after becoming the Sentinel.

“Lantern!” I shout over my comm, “The Machine. I’m going to die if you don’t get over here.”

“Hold on buddy,” comes a firm and steady reply in a gratefully fast time, “I’m coming pal.”

I lean up expecting the Machine to finish me off. It fires another four missiles at me.

Help comes from an unexpected source.

A grenade flies into the path of the missile and explodes, prematurely detonating the missiles and the micro-missiles contained within.

“Come on you stinking piece of junk!” yells Spartan at the Machine with his gun in one hand, “Not on my aero-carrier!”

Oddly enough, my first thought is where did Spartan get his gun from. Probably picked it back up after I dropped it when my rocket pack was destroyed.

Spartan grips his gun with both hands and opens fire on the Machine. He quickly blasts its optic ball off since it was damaged by Darrac already. The Machine quickly responds by firing its lasers at Spartan.

I try to tell him to roll, but I’m still struggling after my beating. Several lasers destroy his gun while one hits his neck armour, barely missing his head. Another couple hit his cape.

Spartan stumbles backwards, coughing. As the Machine prepares to fire again, I spot a dark shape behind him.

With an unruly battle cry, Darrac swoops down and over the top of the Machine, slicing its shoulder lasers off as he goes.

“A Neriarr is harder than that to defeat,” calmly says Darrac as he throws a small, shiny device with glowing green lines at the Machine’s chest.

The device explodes in a green explosion, sending the Machine tumbling backwards into the deck. But with what appear to be anti-gravity packs built into its back, it quickly returns to standing up right.

Firing another set of four missiles, two at Darrac and two at Spartan, the Machine charges towards me. As the other two fly off to avoid the missiles, I sit upright. I look up to see the Machine pound me back into the deck. The Machine pulls back its fist for another strike, this time to finish me off.

As its fist comes down, a flash of light appears in front of me.

There is the Lantern in all his glory, the Machine’s fist caught in his hand.

“Pick on someone your own size,” snarls Sam.