Note: McGill's posts about fanfic and such reminded me of this little 
side project (and a couple of others) of mine that I've been tinkering 
with. I've posted this chapter before, but as I said, I've been 
tinkering with it since then. However, it still doesn't seem quite 
right, so once more, I'm looking for C&C. If anyone can suggest a 
better title, I'd appreciate it.

Chapter 1

There was no such thing as cities anymore. Hadn't been for over sixty 
years. Instead, humanity lives in sprawling metropolis'. Huge, gleaming 
towers of glass and steel soaring upwards towards the heavens and 
creating canyons in which vehicles moved people from one to the other 
in a stately, orderly fashion as computerized traffic control ensured a 
smooth, if slow, journey.

	Cronikle City was no exception and one side of it's tallest tower was 
a huge TV, broadcasting the news from Channel seventy-five, which also 
happened to be in the building. The newcaster was literally, a talking 
head, a computer generated person crafted to appeal to as many people 
as possible, reading off the news in crisp, brisk tones, attempting to 
hold on to the ever decreasing attention span of the average viewer.

	"And in national news today, clean-up efforts continue in Neo New 
Crystal City following its destruction by gravbomb during efforts by 
the Hero Legion to recapture Metaterrorist Bolshavar. Bolshavar had 
threatened the destrucution of the Eastern Coast with a massive tidal 
wave and reportedly commiteded suicide rather then be captured by 
Legion members.

	The Legion also announced that Jagged Edge, a former partner of Legion 
leader and founder Golden Gaurdian and current protector of Cronikle 
City, was killed in the battle. Jagged Edge was a founding member of 
Team Sentinel and considered one of the Legion's most powerful members. 
In a statement at Legion headqaurters Geneva, Legion second in command 
Cassandra paid tribute to the fallen hero."

	Cassandra was a tall woman with short, white-blond hair, with only a 
few lines around her eyes to indicate her age. "Jagged Edge was a 
credit to the Legion and to humanity, which he labored tirelessly to 
aid. His exploits and achievements are legendary and we will miss him. 
His sacrfice is a sober reminder to humans and metas alike of the 
dangers that face us all."

	The head came back. "Despite Cassandra's words, rumors continue that 
Jagged Edge was not killed but instead led away in chains. There are 
also claims that staff from meta-prision S.L.A.B. was summoned to the 
Legion's moon base implant a supression chip. S.L.A.B. declined 
comment, but observers say that this confirms whispers from 
unidentified civilan Legion members that Jagged Edge allowed Bolshavar 
to trigger the gravbomb.

	Astrofly, one of several protectors of Neo Atlantis, made several 
public appearances in Cronikle, and in a brief interview with News 
seventy-five, indicated that he has taken over protection of our fair 
city.
	
	In local news, excavations have begun on a new Voldianan artifact, the 
largest fragment yet of the alien craft that exploded in Earth orbit 
sixty years ago and in doing so, gave birth to the meta population. 
Legion member Doctor Flash is assisting in the excavation and it's 
expected that the Legion will take posession of the fragment.

	We turn now to Tom Flodell for sports. Tom?"

******

Aeon City, five years later...

	It wasn't the first time that James Clancy had had a knife held to his 
throat, but it was the first time he had woken up to it. The knife was 
being held by a muscular young woman whose clear black eyes showed that 
she was rather fond of Jovian Steroids.

	Without even blinking, James snatched her wrist and poked her in the 
neck with two fingers. Her knife fell from her suddenly useless hand. 
Poking her in the neck again, he shoved her off the bed. Sitting up, he 
felt around but found no blood. He tossed the knife away and looked 
down at his attacker as memory of the night before came back. Not 
attacker, the prostitute he had picked up last night. She was easily 
six six, with large, firm breasts. Her hair shimmered like white gold 
and she was smoothly, flawlessly muscled.

	"Marla, wasn't it? You always greet your marks like that in the 
morning?" he asked.

	"Yeah. Figured I could pick up some freebies."

	"You mean stick me and then clean out my supply," James retorted. He 
got up and crossed the room to the kitchen unit. "Coffee?"

	In the smooth metal of the unit, he watched Marla shrug. "Bodies like 
mine aint cheap," she said.

	"So I recall. Ten ounces, eight up front," he noted and handed her a 
chipped cup.

	"You always this nice to people who try to kill you?" Marla asked.

	He grinned at her. "Only the pretty ones. Wanna use the shower before 
you leave?"

	She drained the mug. "Sure, why not?"

	Once she was in the shower and occupied with getting clean, James 
walked over to the bookcase and diddled with the back, causing a small 
compartment to open. From there, he took two small objects that looked 
like clear black jewels. These he placed in a small bag and held it up 
to the light.

	Jovian Steroids. Most potent steroid known to man. Disease immunity, 
the body of dreams, enhanced intellegence, strength, and reflexes. 
Meta-powers in a bottle, so to speak.

	Of course, the human body was never meant to be altered like that. Cut 
off the supply, and the user did a biological implosion, wasting away 
into a puddle of goo. Used carefully and rationally, however, and the 
user could live a long life of fifty years or so beyond normal life 
expentantcy.

	"And then they break down into goo," James quipped to himself. 
Retrieving his coffee, he looked around the room. The paint was 
peeling, the battered climate control system was slowly dying, and the 
decor was spartan. In one corner, neatly stacked, was his only vice, 
the one luxury he allowed himself. Puzzle discs. Each one full of word 
games, logic puzzles, and the like. Then he looked out the window and 
caught sight of his reflection. It showed a lean, athletic young man in 
his early twenties with dark hair and a huge tattoo on the right 
shoulder. He frowned. Not to long ago, that image would have been 
covered with a full black bodysuit. A single jagged silver slash across 
his chest from shoulder to hip would be his symbol.

	Not too long ago, that image...that ghost would have dumped his ass in 
jail for dealing in Jovian Steroids, small time or not.

	Not too long ago, James Clancy would have sooner shot himself then 
screw a prostitute.

	With a snarl of fustration, he hurled his coffee cup at the window, 
but it only bounced off and smashed on the floor.

	"Something wrong?" Marla asked as she emerged from the shower.

	"Bad memory," James said. He handed her the bag and a small cred note. 
"A tip. Go buy yourself something nice."

	Marla tucked the steroids and the note into her small cloth purse, 
which was decorated with a small butterfly brooch, dressed, and walked 
to the door. "You know something," she said, "you're the first mark 
who's gotten me off in two years. Thanks." Then she was gone.

	James smiled at that and stepped into the shower.

******

That night...

	James sighed as he unwrapped the soy dog and bit into it. Only the 
best imitation food for the chronically poor. Which was what he would 
be if he couldn't sell some of the stuff. He had close to thirty ounces 
in his pocket, and not one customer. He had even made the rounds to 
some of his regulars and they either hadn't been interested or couldn't 
be found.
	
	The rent was due tomorrow, hell of a time to have a slow day. He 
glanced up at the moon, hanging low in the sky. Towards the bottom of 
that luminous sphere, a small silver eye. James knew better, that eye 
was actually the size of Aeon City. That eye used to be his home. The 
Hero Legion's main headqaurters, a watchful eye watching over us all, 
or so the saying went.

	He stuck out his tounge at the eye and finished his soy dog.

	James took the long way home, through Aeon's warehouse district. He 
whistled what sounded like a meaningless ditty, but was actually a 
signal to anyone listening who might be interested in some of his 
wares...of which he still hadn't sold a single ounce.

	When his foot kicked something, he glanced down and saw a butterfly 
brooch lying on the walk. Crouching, he picked it up. This looked an 
awful lot like Marla's brooch. She must have dropped it. He turned the 
brooch over in his hands and frowned, the pin was stuck through a small 
swatch of fabric. As though it had been torn off.

	'You're not in the game anymore,' his inner voice insisted. 'Besides, 
even if the brooch is hers, she probably just got a frisky mark. Go 
swing by the bar you met her at. She's probably there.'

	James stood, but for some reason, gazed at the nearby warehouses. The 
chip may have turned him into a human, but the Golden Gaurdian had 
taught his young partners to be observant and that skill was not 
something the chip could take. Within moments, he saw the ever so faint 
glow at one of the windows. Had he not been looking for something, he 
would have missed it.

	'It's just a watchman burning the candle,' his inner voice said. 'Or 
someone forgot to shut off something.'

	But James' feet were already carrying him across the yard.

******
	It had taken some looking around and the chance finding of a crowbar, 
but James found an open window that he could pull himself through.

	The warehouse appeared to have been a printing plant at some point. 
There was massive amounts of machinery and rolls of paper. Using the 
sides like a ladder, he clambered up to the top of a press and took his 
bearings.

	The faint glow that had attracted his attention was coming from the 
far side of the room and James headed for it.


	The source of the glow turned out to be a bank of monitors and a steel 
circle around a circle of glowing blue light. A ramp led up into the 
light and strapped to a chair at it's foot was Marla. She wore a blue 
coverall and her expression was terrified. Two people in lab coats were 
checking the straps while a thin, weasel faced man dressed in black 
worked at the monitors.

	James shook himself to loosen up and then took a firm grip on the 
crowbar. With any luck he could get Marla out in one go. Picking up a 
card sized piece of metal, he hurled it away where it clanged as it 
bounced off something.

	Without even changing expression, the two men stood and walked off 
into the shadows, pulling hand lasers from under their coats. Lab 
assitants and hired muscle in one. How economical.

	Charging from the shadows, he hurled the crowbar not at the man in 
black, but at the machinery behind him. As the man blinked, James 
vaulted over the edge of the montiors and planted his foot in the man's 
chest. Taking only a moment to verify that the man was out cold, James 
scooped up the crowbar and walked over to Marla.

	"Lonley again?" she asked him with a small smile.

	James shrugged and started prying at the fasteners with the bar. "I 
like work by someone who takes pride in what they do."

	She laughed at that. "It wasn't my first choice."

	"Neither was my current profession," James said bitterly as he went to 
work on the strap around her waist. There was a flash of golden light 
and James' ribs felt like they'd been hit with a sledgehammer. He 
collapsed on Marla's lap. The toes of his boots dragged along the ramp 
and then he was falling.

-Steve "Komodo" T.
http://www.geocities.com/studio_pc_hub/


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