Welcome Aboard Captain

Welcome Aboard Captain

Captain Jokko Moranian materialized in the transporter room without his usual dashing grin, he was nervous about this new command. He had spent four years on impulse transports and a internship aboard a dirty dwarven freighter but nothing like this. An assignment to the Dragonheart, the Triumvirate’s newest hybrid starship, on a 5 year voyage of discovery. Who was he, to be given this momentous commission? Jokko brushed away his uneasy thoughts, straightened his impeccably pressed microfiber uniform and cleared his throat.

The room was as clean as his uniform, sparkling white tile and gentle blue light panels. The floor was green carbon carpet. Jokko went over to the wall and pressed a panel. The panel slid up. There, beyond a forcefield and 6ooo kilometers of empty space lay the planet Earth. Great, rotting megacities lay on it like a brown stain. Enormous banks of polluted fog rolled over irradiated oceans. And here and there, small patches of green, small but growing. Trees retaking the world, healing the soil. It would take 6000 years before Earth returned to its former glory. And humanity could never have done it alone. Mankind had only realized what the price would be when they had ruined every beauty, spent every resource and looked up from the grim ruin of relentless Industrialism and realized that they could no longer see the sun.

All was lost, hope had fled, the remains of civilization hid, buried themselves in virtual worlds run on failing electricity or inside vaults and tunnels. And then came the Elves, blasting through the garbage belts and smog of Earth's poisoned atmosphere in their sleek, silver and green ships. When least expected they came from the sky, with biotechnology no one dreamed was possible, but more importantly with hope and beauty and order. Elves, stern but compassionate that began to heal the Earth and helped humans take their first step into the stars.

Jakko started as a young man trotted into the room, tucking in his uniform shirt and smoothing back his blonde hair subconsciously, even though the regulation haircut left precious little to smooth. He shook Jakko's hand, an old earth custom, then saluted formally. "Welcome aboard captain. I'm Corgo Morek, your first officer. Sorry about the reception, but I drank too much elven Silvis last night and overslept." Jakko gave the merest hint of a smile. "Is this by any chance your first assignment Mr. Corgo?" The first officer fell into step besides his captain as they headed through the automatic door and down the hall. "I hardly think that they would send a rookie onto a ship like the Dragonheart sir. I have three years in a Triumvirate cruiser, the Jaguar. We stopped the revolt in the Mars colonies, the Phobos incident."

Jakko was impressed, this man looked inexperienced but he was already a veteran, a quiet hero. During the Phobos incident the Jaguar had been heavily damaged by the rebel Martian colonists but had managed to almost singlehandedly destroy the rebel fleet of modified mining ships.  

As they walked a door leading into the hall whooshed open for a crewman to enter. Corgo indicated it. "Sir, this is sickbay." Jokko swept into the sickbay, taking in the perfectly sterile white walls and neat beds bolted to the floor amid retractable cabinets of medical supplies. He noted the hooks and loops installed in the ceiling. The wonders of dwarven technology had made artificial gravity possible, but there were still provisions for stabilizing patients in zero gravity. Off to his right a slight woman turned and fluttered up to him, hovering on glassy wings. Jokko was startled. She wore the regulation green microfibre shirt, pressed pants and brown jacket emblazoned with the Sigil of the Triumvirate, but also tiny slippers instead of the usual boots. She was small, like a child, with a gentle face. Corgo noticed that his captain was staring and coughed. "Captain Moranian, this is Seelo, our chief medical officer." Seelo smiled and took the captain's hand. Her voice tinkled like a little bell. 'Has the captain ever met a fairy before?" Jokko blinked. “Uh, no, heard of fairies, but never met one, mostly traveled the Earth-Homestone route, nice to meet you and, uh.” Jokko realized that he was rambling and fell silent. There was an uneasy silence. He looked around, desperately wishing that the fairy had a patient to care for, but all he saw were rows of tricorders and several full-body scanners. Seelo hovered respectfully. Corgo rolled his eyes behind his captain’s back and coughed. “Uh, sir, would you like to see engineering?” Jokko breathed in relief. “Thank you first officer Morek, let’s get going.” The captain rushed out of sickbay and trotted down the hall, nearly colliding with two crewmen heading the other way. He returned their panicked salutes and slipped into the hydrolift. Seelo turned back to retuneing the instruments. Her new captain was much younger and less disciplined than she had expected, but there was no malice or haughty pride in his heart.

The hydrolift deposited Corgo and his captain at engineering. In sickbay it had been so quiet that one could have heard a pin drop. Here the air throbbed with a constant roar. Before them lay a gray room 300 yards square lit by harsh yellow lights and crowded with machinery. Engineers hurried from panel to panel, finishing the final checkouts. Corgo motioned one of them over. “Captain, this is Chief engineer Darvas Stoneheaver.” Darvas was a dwarf, four feet tall, with a fluffy red beard and piercing blue eyes. He looked Jokko over, seized the captain’s hand in his own iron grip and shook it until his new superior’s eyes watered. “Sure is nice tae meetcha cap’n. Didn’t expect sich a pretty boy gittin charge of this boat, beggin yer pardon sir, an’ no disrespect intended.” Jokko nodded, still trying to process the dwarf’s thick accent. “So what are you doing right now?” He asked. Darvas beamed under his beard. “I’ve been makin’ some adjustments tae the Inversion Reactor.” He waved in the direction of the center of the room. Jokko looked up and took a closer look at the massive cylinder bulging with pipes, the heart of the dragon. The walls vibrated and hummed. Several of the rivets dotting its base glowed red-hot. Darvas chuckled at the look of dismay that washed offer his captain’s face. “Ach, dinna worry about tha reactor sir. She’s my baby, an’ I won’t let nothin’ go wrong wi’ her.” Jokko swallowed, not convinced. “And if something, uh, goes wrong?” Darvas never stopped smiling. “Well sir, that reactor operates on the infinite inversion principle an’ she is lined with the metal of Azokathom. If there were a serious leak tha heat of a sun would seep through the quantum relay an’ burn a hole clean through this ship from end to end.” The dwarf walloped his unnerved captain on the back and escorted him back to the hydrolift. “Dinna worry cap’n. There ain’t no danger, this reactor should last fer a thousand years. You just fly me ship an’ let me worry about the propulsion. Darvas was still chuckling as the officer’s left on the lift. The new captain was a good sport, he just hoped Jokko knew what he was getting into.

The hydrolift was as silent as death after the racket of engineering. Jokko felt sweat on his forehead, from the heat in engineering, he told himself. “I’ve been on five dwarven ships in my career, and I never seem to get used to the Inversion Reactor.” Corgo sensed his captain’s unease. “Well sir, without the dwarves and their amazing reactors we wouldn’t be going on this five earth-year cruise, exploring the universe. Only a 500 year old dwarf like Darvas would understand the reactor. Imagining how to harness near-infinite energy still baffles me, even the layman’s explanation leaves my head spinning.” Jokko felt relieved that his first officer knew as little about dwarven technology as he did. “I still wish that we could have got the elves to lend a hometree for the Dragonheart.” Corgo shivered. “Well captain, personally I prefer riding on a dwarven radiation-bomb to trusting my skin to some hocus-pocus magic tree.” Jokko was baffled by Corgo’s hostility towards magic. The elves disdained conventional technology and powered their ships with magic, an ethereal energy that flowed in channels through space. They used sentient plants called “hometrees” as ship computers. A single hometree could simultaneously maintain artigrav, cycle air and pump water throughout the ship, coordinate communications and, with the help of an elven mediator, open a “splice” in a channel of magic, propelling a ship through space at many times the speed of light.  

The two officers got off of the hydrolift at level 5. Corgo pointed down a hallway packed with crewmen. “This way to the bridge Captain.” Jokko pushed forwards. Crewmen quickly got out of the way when they saw the double gold bars on his sleeve. But Corgo was not so lucky. He tripped over a hovercart full of replicators. Jokko pushed on, unaware. He hoped that things would be more orderly once the ship got into open space. Confused by the crowd he turned into a side-hall, and again into a room marked 10-4. This appeared to be a lounge or bar of some kind. Everyone was busy getting the ship stocked. Two dwarves passed him carrying boxes of drinks for the bar. Jokko’s legs were aching after his long stroll through the ship. He began wishing that he had spent more time working out in the Fleet Academy gym and less time loafing in bars like this one, getting chummy with fellow cadets.

As Jokko headed for a couch to rest he was jostled by a trio of rowdy ensign’s. He considered reprimanding them, but decided to let it go. Everyone in the bar froze as a deep voice bellowed across the room. “Hold it there, you orcish scum.” A towering man strode across the room and glowered over the ensigns, his muscles rippling under a short-sleeved uniform shirt. “You spunkless trollings, you dare to pass your commanding officer without saluting? I should throw you goons out of the airlock. Sixteen demerits and sanitation duty for you, now do it right.” The cowering ensign’s saluted, as did everyone else in the room. The muscled man, obviously an officer, turned to Jokko and saluted. “Chief of security Baran Hew reporting sir.” Jokko resisted the temptation to take a step back and hoped that Baran couldn’t see his knees shaking. “Uh, very good Chief Baran.” He turned on what he hoped was still his winning smile. “I am sort of, confused about where the bridge is.” Baran pointed to a microchip panel embedded in the wall. “Is the ship computer broken?” Jokko walked over to the panel, feeling very ignorant. “Thank you, that will be all Chief Baran.” Baran watched as his new captain asked the computer for directions and hurried out of 10-4. He liked this guy, who was obviously intimidated enough to be not stupid but brave enough to avoid being a coward. Jokko seemed a little distracted, but it took everyone time to get used to this ship.

Corgo found his captain in barracks hall 21, chatting with two ensigns about developments in hydroponics. “Captain, sorry I lost you there.” Jokko bid the ensigns farewell and resumed his walk. “That’s alright, my new Chief of Security found me.” Corgo turned pale. “I hope he didn’t scare you sir, I mean, well, he grew up as an enforcer in the Mars colony. He can be rough but he is really a nice guy once you get used to him. Rather protective. Not that you would be scared, I mean.” Jokko held up a hand to stop his first officer’s flow. “I was scared for a minute there.” Corgo was silent. Jokko laughed. “Yes, even brave starship captains get scared sometimes. I remember my first time I entered slipspace. I nearly threw up on the bridge, not from the trip but from being so nervous. It amused my captain to no end.” Officer Morek smiled. “The first time we ran the Orc battle simulation in the holoroom I actually fainted. Scared my teachers. They gave me a “energy shield” on the next run to boost my confidence.”

The two reached the last lift and arrived at the bridge. As the doors opened Corgo straightened to attention and called out “Captain on the bridge.” As one the half-dozen people sitting at control stations stood, turned and stood at attention. Corgo led the captain to a side panel where a young man with curly hair and blue eyes stood stiffly. “This is Dingo Komandus, our tactical officer.” Dingo smiled and shook his captain’s hand. “Just you tell me where to fire the torpedoes captain and I’ll be cool.” Corgo nodded. “Dingo is always cool. And this is Elara Silvaru, our communications officer.” Elara was an elf, with long, pointed ears and spiky white hair. Dingo’s station had been covered in taped notes and several instruction manuals. But Jokko could see his own reflection in the glistening instrument panels of Elara’s station. She stood at perfect attention, green eyes straight ahead. Jokko ran his hand along the instruments as if looking for dust, although he was really looking for something to say. “Very good, um, what are your qualifications tactical officer Elara?”

Elara kept her eyes straight ahead, her voice snapping out perfect syllables. “300 years of experience in the Elven guard, including 27 years 4 months as a mediator. Graduated Triumvirate Fleet Academy with honors. Majored in Communications, Diplomacy, Navigation and Tactical Operations. 6 years’ experience in the Triumvirate Fleet as Comms officer, recommended by the Elven Ambassador Mellion and Tulias, Prefector of the Trium office of liaison coordination. Perfect record, no demerits. Three commendations.”

 Jokko was nodding as a reflex action. He extended his hand and Elara shook it before returning to attention. It may have been his imagination, but her hand seemed cold, like gripping ice. He moved on the next station. Corgo whispered in his ear. “Elara is very proud of herself. One of the ensigns who knows elvish heard her say that she could run the whole ship herself, and I almost believe it. I keep asking her questions and she always has the answer.” 

“Now this.” Said Corgo in his normal voice. “This is helmsman Root Taku.” A dark-skinned man with serious brown eyes took Jokko’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you sir.” Something in his grip made the captain felt more confident, felt that he could trust helmsman Root completely, with anything. “Likewise Officer Taku.”

Jokko turned around to the Navigator’s seat and found himself facing a beardless, nervous youth with large, round ears. Corgo suddenly sounded uneasy. “This is Ensign James Chevo.” Jokko turned back to his first officer. “Ensign? This kid can’t be over 20 earth-years old. Why is he the Navigator?” Corgo began smoothing his short hair. “Sir, we are already behind schedule for the launch. And when our assigned Navigator suffered a serious injury two days ago I had to improvise and find the best qualified replacement.” Jokko was still not reassured. “How qualified is he?” Corgo stood straight and with an effort kept his hands away from his hair. “James is older than he looks. He is not really human, he is a Shortling and almost 24 years old. And he is a fully qualified Navigator who graduated with honors, as well as the best non-dwarf engineer I know.” Jokko let his frown fade a smidge. “Captain, He may be inexperienced, but I personally vouch for James. And if you insist I have two other people who can Navigate if necessary. But it takes several hours to fill out a transfer application and several days to get is approved. We must launch today.” Jokko nodded and turned back to James. The young Navigator shook his hand warmly, giving out a winning, chubby-cheeked smile. “Don’t worry Captain, I won’t fail you.”

Jokko restrained himself from wiping the sweat from his forehead. Making a good impression on his new crew was hard work, perhaps he was overdoing it. Corgo broke in on his captain’s thoughts. “Sir, your Science Officer, Tuol S’cop.” A tall elf stood straight before him. Jokko was impressed, not just by his perfect uniform and station, but by how regal he looked. High cheekbones, straight eyebrows, impeccable poise and blue eyes that seemed to stare at some distant galaxy. The captain extended his hand for the mandatory handshake. He had lots of practice, one had to shake a lot of hands-and other appendages, to become a captain. But meeting all of his officers in such a short space of time was putting stress on his hand and his good humor. Tuol did not help, gripping Jokko’s hand so firmly that the captain fought back tears threatening to escape his eyes. He decided not ask about his Science Officer’s qualifications. Elves were always so annoyingly accomplished. “Well, glad to have you aboard Tuol.” Tuol raised his eyebrows a fraction. Jokko coughed and glanced at Corgo, who leaned in. “He doesn’t say much captain, not chatty.” Tuol shifted his electronic tablet and glanced at it. “Captain, we have been given permission to launch. I have checked all of the equations and we are ready begin our voyage.” Jokko ran his hand over a console. “What about the Inversion Reactor?” Tuol didn’t glance at his tablet. “Operating at 110% power, full efficiency.” Jokko turned to Officer Morek. “So, have I met everybody?” Corgo smiled mischievously. “You can relax now captain. There are only 3026 more people on this ship that you must meet. But they will understand if you just talk over the intercom for now.” Captain Jokko Moranian took a deep breath, straightened his impeccably pressed microfibre uniform and sat in the Captain’s chair.

 “Officer Elara, open a shipwide channel.” A beep. “Attention crew of the Dragonheart. This is Captain Jokko Moranian. I’m not great at making speeches, so I’ll keep it short. Today we set out into Space, that final frontier. Our mission is a five-year voyage into the depths of the universe. To explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no man, no dwarf, no elf has ever gone before.”

Jokko switched off the intercom and swatted his combadge. “Engineering, are we ready for Warp?” Darvas’s deep voice bellowed back. “Aye cap’n. Ready fer Inversion on yer mark.” Jokko winced and lowered the volume. “James, plot a course for…oh, somewhere in the Beta quadrant.” James activated his charming smile as he punched in the numbers. “Course set Captain.” “Mr. Tuol, release the mooring lines.” “Mooring lines and stabilizers released Captain.” Jokko spun his chair, sinking into the soft fabric. “Mr. Chevo, one-half impulse please.” The Shortling pushed forward the throttle with infinite care. “One half impulse Captain.”

The Dragonheart swung out off Homestation 2 with grace, it’s dozen impulse engines pulsing with blue fire. In three minutes the ship had cleared the dock. Jokko relaxed, his back muscles loosening. He had worried all day, about his crew, how they saw him, if they were capable, if they would respect him. Now, at the helm of the newest ship in the Fleet, embarking on the most unique and challenging mission of his career, with a bridge full of new friends that he was learning to trust, that were beginning to trust him, Jokko began to feel at home.

James glanced at his consol. “Captain, we are clear of Earth’s magnetic field.” Jokko ran his hands over the armrests of his chair. “Commence inversion on my mark Mr. Chevo. Three, two, one, mark.”

Beams of read plasma rippled from the Dragonheart and whirled in a spiral, faster and faster. The ship’s engines glowed, emanating a purple aura. 500 yards from the prow a wormhole appeared, bending space and time. Beads of plasma drew the ship into the gaping abyss. There was a final blinding flash, a backwash of red plasma and the Dragonheart was gone.

I hope you enjoyed this short story, which is a blend of the fantasy genre with the classic TV show Star Trek. Please comment below and tell me how I did and what I could have done better. And maybe recommend my blog to other bloggers, because I am trying to expand my audience.

Thank you for reading. Merry Christmas

Ultimate Avenger: Into the Sun

Ultimate Avenger

Smoke poured out of the broken wreckage of skyscrapers. Thousands of Chitauri littered the blackened streets of Detroit. Above the embattled city a giant world-ship floated, Chitauri sky-chariots streaming from it's hangars. The mad Titan Thanos gazed down upon Earth, below him he beheld a circle of tiny specks, the Avengers, this planet's pitiful guardians. All the might of his armies was concentrated on them. Soon the only beings capable of stopping him would be slain.

Thanos settled back in his floating throne and flexed his arm. There was nothing so satisfying as conquering a planet, watching millions of life-forms plead for mercy. . .and then destroying them. A lowly slave approached him, not daring to look upon him. She presented him with his golden Infinity Gauntlet. Thanos slipped it on, admiring the Green stone gleaming in it's center. He had not used this in a while. Thanos decided he should test it, no good going into battle with a faulty weapon. He turned to the slave and smiled. "Run". She only got halfway to the observation deck door before a green beam of energy melted her. The gauntlet still worked.

On the streets of Detroit the battle for Earth raged. Captain Steve Rogers caught a dozen laser blasts on his shield and threw a grenade into a squad of Chitauri. A block away The Vision's forehead shone as his Mind Gem took control of a huge floating space wyrm. The wyrm turned and plowed through a squadron of sky chariots. Hawkeye leaped from rooftop to rooftop, pelting the alien invaders with arrows. Thor landed beside Captain America and blasted a chariot out of the air with a streak of lightning. The Asgardian was grinning. "It has been to long since I fought such a glorious battle." Steve glanced around and saw a dozen civilians lying dead outside a mall. "The longer this battle lasts the more people will die. These things just keep coming, just like New York." Thor lost his smile and threw his hammer, knocking a space wyrm into a building. Iron Man landed behind them. "We need to take down that world-ship. We do that and every one of these aliens will go kaput." Steve looked up at the vast starship casting a shadow over the city. "O.K. Barton, Romanov, Scarlet and me will hold down the fort while Thor, Hulk, The vision and you fly up and get that ship into space. If it gets destroyed here half the city will go with it.

Thanos glanced down through the observation room force field and noticed the little heroes blasting through the atmosphere towards him. They had finally deduced that this ship was the key to his conquest. In a way he was pleased. They would almost be a good challenge.

Thor arrived first. His mighty hammer carried him through the force field and onto a balcony. A few yards away Thanos floated in his chair. Thor fired lighting at him. The green gem glittered and a lightning rod appeared between them, channeling the bolt into the world-ship. Thanos smiled. Tendrils of energy whipped out of the gauntlet, swirled around Thor's defenses and stabbed at him with piercing blades. Iron Man rocketed into the room and fired bursts of power from his palms. Thanos was hurled out of his chair. Now he was annoyed. A gleaming green T'Mirak crystal raced across the room and latched onto Thor's chest-plate, burning with unbearable heat. Iron man raised his arms for fire again but green tendrils slammed him into the wall, holding his arms in place and tearing apart his armor. Thor tore at the slippery crystal and toppled off of the balcony into space.

Vision had taken a little longer to get to the ship because he was giving the Hulk a boost. He flew into the room and took in the scene at a glance. He tossed Hulk at Thanos and caught a battered Anthony Stark as the tendrils released him. Hulk lashed out, catching Thanos by surprise. The Titan slammed through a wall, but was ready for the follow up punch. He caught the Hulk's fist and held it there, seemingly without effort. Hulk kicked at him. Thanos sidestepped it and kicked the beast's other leg out from under it. He had memorized several hundred pressure points for every type of humanoid species. As Hulk leaped back to his feet Thanos threw his first punch of the battle, right under The Hulk's chin. The green beast's head snapped back and Dr. Bruce Banner sailed through several walls and out into orbit.

Back on the ground the Avengers regrouped in a warehouse. Steve leaned against a crate and shook his head. Clint Barton and Romanov were busy helping the National Guard to hold a perimeter. Thor lay propped up against a forklift, burn marks all over his chest, his beard burned away. Tony Stark tried to rise and sank back with a cry. Scarlet Witch was using her telekinetic power to hold shut his stab wounds and stitch them shut. The Vision flew into the warehouse, holding the sleeping form of Bruce Banner in his arms. He told Steve about the being they had fought in the ship. Steve tried to think, although the laser burn on his leg made it tough. They had to stop the aliens, but more would always come from the ship. They had to destroy the ship, but a being in the ship had stopped them. So, they had to destroy the being.

As Steve shared his thoughts with the remains of his team Stark raised his hand. Steve knelt, removing the Billionaire's oxygen mask so that he could speak. "I've got a crazy plan." Steve looked around at the others. "Right now I would try anything."

Thanos flew across the room and sat back in his chair. The invasion of Earth was going well. He decided to send some space wyrms over to the country named Japan. Shake up Asia a bit. Several laser batteries fired up and spewed streams of energy into the sky, shooting down the missiles that the earthling army had been sending up all day. Even if any got through they would not penetrate the energy shield surrounding the world-ship. He noticed another figure flying up straight towards him. Another hero come to challenge the invincible Thanos. He signaled the laser turrets to leave it alone and sat back in his chair to wait.

Thor's hammer Mjnolnir hit his chair, shattering it into a thousand splinters. Thanos smashed through the ceiling, and another, and another. His head felt rather sore after blasting through all 300 stories of the world-ship and into orbit. Thanos turned to observe his new attacker. Before him hovered a suit of powered armor, forged of a gold-titanium alloy. The armored figure held in one hand the hammer Mjnolnir, in the other hand the vibranium shield of Captain America.

The Iron Man helmet opened. The calm purple eyes of The Vision gazed back at him. He looked about to say something. No doubt some appeal to his humanity or reason, thought Thanos. He had no time for this. The tendrils of green energy streaked from the gem towards Vision. The android fired his suit's thrusters and whirled aside. Vision tried to find an opening. But Thanos surrounded himself with a whirling mist of green. Vision darted forwards, but but the mist swirled towards him and he pulled back. Thanos was playing a cautious game, analyzing his enemy's abilities. Vision pulled away as if retreating, then raced forwards, sheltered by his shield, and smashed through the net of energy. Thanos turned to recieve a blow from Mjnolir that made his head ring and hurtled him out into space. The Titan stopped his tumbling, just in time to receive another blow from the hammer. Vision hit him again and again. Thanos lashed out with his gem, forming a huge hammer sweeping through space. Vision took the blow on his shield and struck Thanos again. He reeled, somersaulting through space before the moon stopped his fall. Thanos rose to his feet. He had never lost a fight, and he never would. He formed a wall of green energy between himself and Vision. The android struck it with his hammer, to no effect. Thanos began to recover confidence. Vision could not pierce his defense. Soon he would find this challenger's weakness and destroy him. Then he noticed that his world-ship was no longer hovering above Earth.

Captain Steve Rogers gazed through the porthole as the world-ship blasted past Venus. He wore one of Stark's suits of armor to protect him from the cold of space. Falcon had flown him up to the world-ship while Thanos was busy. It had taken Steve a few minutes to take out the Chitauri guards on the bridge. The navigation system was very strange, but J.A.R.V.I.S. had talked him through it. Now the world-ship was on a new heading, straight into the sun. Steve sighed, he would miss his friends back on Earth, but he HAD insisted on carrying out this plan himself. A dozen Chitauri warriors came clattering down a hallway towards the bridge. Steve was ready for them.

Thanos saw in an instant how he had been deceived. He made his decision, dropping the unbreakable wall and racing after the world-ship. Vision followed him, blasting at the Titan with his mind gem. Thanos focused all his power on speed and slowly began to pull away. Vision threw Mjolnir. Thanos felt it coming and barely dodged it. Vision was still losing the race. He was too bulky. The android launched every missile in the armored suit at Thanos. The space around him was filled with a ripple of explosions. Thanos lost control again and tumbled off course.
Steve kicked the last Chitauri warrior into the wall and turned back to the porthole. The sun now filled his view, a unimaginably gigantic yellow orb. Dozens of warnings flashed on the alien control panel. Steve looked away, studying some strange markings on the wall. This was the part about being a soldier he liked least.

Thanos had lost the race to the world-ship. Vision floated between him and the receding spacecraft. Thanos reactivated his energy wall, keeping it between himself and Vision as he circled around towards his ship."Do you think losing that ship will hurt me?" He taunted the implacable android. "I will return with more Chitauri, or simply conquer your planet alone. You can do nothing against my power." No reply. Thanos got between Vision and the ship. Now he backed towards his prize. Vision closed the helmet over his face, but then noticed a warning. Steve Rogers was in the world-ship. If he did not act Steve would die. Thanos felt the enormous gravity of the Sun tugging at him. He shifted away. To bad about the world-ship, but it was replaceable.

Vision struck, slamming into the energy wall. Thanos watched calmly as he hammered the wall with Mjolnir and his mind stone. Vision drew back to plan. The world-ship was gleaming red now, shaking apart under the strain of gravity. Vision forced himself to focus, focus all his power on one square inch of the energy wall.  He blasted it with all he had, his hammer, his mind stone and the arc reactor on his chest. And the energy wall broke. Thanos did not have time to cringe before Vision streaked forwards and kicked him into the Sun.

Vision flew towards the disintegrating world-ship, he pierced the shattered hull and plunged to the bridge. The glare and heat were terrible. Steve lay on the floor, sliding towards the view-port in the grip of the Sun's gravity. His armor was flaking away in charred embers. Vision grabbed him and boosted away. The world-ship peeled away around him, plunging into the sun. Vision strained, the boosters on his suit failed. He was held in place by gravity, unable to retreat an inch from the rippling ball of gas that was cooking Steve to a turn. Vision felt his strength ebbing, slowly he slid backwards, away from Earth. The blue planet was just a speck now, another point of light in the enormity of space. The Vision looked down at Captain America, who he held tucked under one arm. Any moment now the armor that stood between his comrade and space would chip off and Steve would die.
Vision slid back another centimeter and looked away from the searing sun. There on his wrist hung Mjnolnir. He threw the hammer away and lurched forwards a few feet. Again he threw it, and again. Steve must have regained consciousness because his boosters came on. Faster and faster the two Avengers pulled away. And then they were streaking away, carving through space towards Earth. Three minutes before they landed Steve Roger's suit fell apart, blowing away like leaves in the autumn. On the ground Hawkeye and Thor rushed over to see the Captain. Steve blinked and coughed on some ashes. "I guess I'm gonna have a pretty good tan." He said. Thor thwacked Vision on the back. "Truly, you are a mighty warrior. Can I have my hammer back?" Everyone smiled in spite of themselves. Wade Wilson, the Falcon and the recovering Dr. Banner joined the group. The Avengers were again united and the Earth was free.

Thanos floated in the center of the Sun. His mighty eyes watered in the heat of the plasma exploding all around him. His stomach cramped in the gravity. If he had required air to breath it would have burned in his lungs. He would not die, but could not bear to live in this burning maelstrom of pain. The green stone in his fist glowed, brighter than bright and slowly, ever so slowly, an inch at a time, Thanos began to move, out of the heart of the Sun

Thanks for reading my story. It's just a first draft. Please comment below and tell me how I did. 

Ancient Avengers

Ancient Avengers

The Shawarma restaurant was crowded that evening. Captain Steve Rogers stopped at the door, glancing up at the skyline of New York. The city had not changed much in the past hundred years. He winced at the pain that shot through his back and stepped inside, breathing in the spicy aroma of the Turkish eatery. He glanced around and saw them, sitting in a table corner, giving orders to the robot waiter. Steve strode over and smiled. The hundredth anniversary reunion of the Battle of New York was in full swing.

Steve sat down slowly and glanced around at the familiar faces. Anthony Stark was wedged against the window. He was wearing his iron man armor. But Stark had to wear it these days. He was nearly 150 years old and his health was not the best. He had designed a suit that monitored his vital signs and carried all his medical equipment. It would even shock him if he went into cardiac arrest. But Stark was still perky. He glanced up, fixing a cybernetic eye on Steve. "Hey, the old man made it. You look good for 200." It was true. Steve's skin might be a little wrinkled, his frame a little thinner, but he still carried himself tall.

The robot turned to Steve. "What shall it be Mr.Rogers?" Steve started, he was still not used to how they knew his name just by scanning his bio-metrics. "Uh, the usual." The robot instantly recalled Steve's profile and ordering history. "Shawarma? Very good sir." A old man across from Rogers spoke through a bushy white beard. "Hey, Steve. Earn any medals lately?" Steve smiled, that old easy smile of his. After New York he had stuck with S.H.I.E.L.D. but eventually rejoined the U.S. army and served for four tours in the Middle East. He had quickly become the most decorated soldier in the service, earning several Purple Hearts, the Medal of Honor and the Silver Star, as well as several medals from other nations. He had saved the lives of countless soldiers and personally captured or killed hundreds of enemies. Soldiers had written books full of his exploits. Finally the army promoted him to major general and stuck him behind a desk, reluctant to lose their most valuable soldier. Steve had had enough of the army anyway and had retired, married an old friend from S.H.I.E.L.D. and settled down. But he still made the headlines when he stopped a armed robbery and was given the keys to the city of Brooklyn by the mayor. "No medals these days. How about you Dr. Banner, they run out of awards to give you yet?"

Banner stroked his white beard and adjusted his glasses, which he still preferred even though ultra-compact contact lenses were now available. "Well, they gave me my second Nobel Prize last year. For physics of course. I just published this paper on radiation effects on the Mars colony and the consequences for communication. And they drag me to Switzerland and give me a little gold man for it." Stark broke in. He was always the center of attention. "Of course you would have been spared that if I hadn't built that colony ship for Mars Industries and practically gave it away to them."

Banner looked around at the patrons enjoying their meals, people from every walk of life. "I don't enjoy thinking about the battle of New York, but if it had never happened, if we had never become a team, the world would be much worse off." Stark grinned. "Yeah, when everybody in the universe saw what we could do, they got real quiet. This guy called Aldreich Killian came to my place a week after the battle and asked if I would please help him with this radical treatment called Extremis. The guy was a nut, the stuff was unstable but he had given it to a bunch of ex-army guys. But he couldn't make a move, knowing we would all show up and trash his party. We managed to stabilize a mild form of Extremis, practically cured cancer." Steve nodded. "Thanks for helping me out when H.Y.D.R.A. activated project Insight. If it wasn't for Stark those helicarriers would have gotten airborne." Stark nodded modestly, which was hard for him to do.

Steve took a drink of water. "They offered me a cameo appearance in our movie." Banner looked up. "What movie?" Stark took up the slack. "You know all those documentaries they did, about how we saved the world? Well now they are making a 4D movie about it. They just finished picking the cast. It's called "Earth's Mightiest Heroes". Don't worry guys, our rights are well protected, we get a dollar every time someone goes to see it."

The robot arrived and served their Shawarma. Steve looked up from the saucy meat pastry. "So, is Clint showing up this year?" Stark suddenly looked older. "You still don't follow the news, do you Steve? Clint Barton died last month in Ontario, from a heart attack."

They all sat silent for a moment, First Natasha Romanov, now Barton. Even Colonel Rhodes was dead, killed in a hovercar collision in D.C. Every year it seemed, another familiar face was gone.
The silence was broken by a rumble outside. A beam of pure energy struck the ground outside. Dust billowed into the street. Then, as suddenly as it had come the beam vanished and Thor Odinson, king of Asgard, breezed into the restaurant and dropped his hammer by the table. The Asgardian looked much the same as ever. A majestic golden beard spilled over his silver armor. "So my mortal friends, another of our company has gone to Valhalla. This is a grim day, but we should be happy for them." The robot came over as Thor sat down. "What shall it be today Mr. Thor?" For a moment the king was confused, curiously examining the machine. "Bring us tankards of strong ale, mechanical servant." Now it was the robot's turn to be confused, it hurried off to consult the owner on the best course of action.

Banner took off his glasses and polished them. "So Stark, how is miss Potts doing?" "You mean Mrs. Stark." Tony replied. "She is doing O.K.  She had to have a artificial spine implant last year. Now her arthritis is much better." Thor nodded. "Be sure to treasure your years with her my friend. I remember every moment with Jane Foster, from the moment I met her to when she died in my arms. For the good of the realm I had to marry Lady Sif, and we love each other. But when I am troubled the memories of Jane comfort me." Steve sighed. Thor had always been good at talking about emotional subjects.

The robot came back to the table with four steel cups of beer. Steve took his and sank back in his chair. "So, what are you doing tomorrow Stark?" The multi-trillionaire adjusted his glove. "I'm working on a quantum computing algorithm." He waved it away. "You probably wouldn't understand it." Bruce Banner slowly straightened in his chair. "I have to fly to Malaysia. There is a new super-flu outbreak there." Thor shrugged. "The work of a ruler goes on as usual. What about you Captain?" Steve opened his mouth to answer and his phone rang, a metallic male voice echoed through the restaurant. "Steve Rogers, you are late for the veteran's reunion, repeat, you are late for the veteran's reunion." Everyone erupted into laughter as Steve silenced his phone reminder.

Thor raised his cup of beer in a toast. "To our friends, those still with us, and those who have moved on." They all drank. Dr. Banner began hiccuping. Steve finished his Shawarma and stood. "So long then. See you all next year."

One by one they all left. Steve roared off on his ancient motorcycle. Doctor Banner called in a hovercar taxi with his phone. Stark clicked his helmet in place and roared away. Thor stood carefully in a parking space and vanished in a beam of light as the Bifrost launched him back to Asgard at the speed of light.

I hope you liked this short story. This is just the first draft. Please comment and tell me what you think. How could I have made this better? 

Disney League of Exploited Pirates

Disney League of Exploited Pirates

The tavern was loud and smelly. Dozens of sailors bellowed for rum or gambled their money away. But there was a back room for those who craved privacy, past a door planted in the sagging wall. In this room sat Captain Hook, his scarlet coat muddy and in tatters, a brilliant red hat hung in shreds on a hook in the wall. Hook glanced at his first mate, a chubby, short-sighted fellow named Mr. Smee. Smee glanced at his captain's stained brass hook, tapping on the table.

The door swung open and in walked a man with a friendly smile beaming upon his countenance. In one hand he held a tray loaded with steaming food, the other hand held a crutch to support his one leg. The man hopped into the room, laid out the food and touched the brim of his hat in salute. "Good evenin' to e' Mr. Hook. My name be Long John Silver." Hook groaned. "Can't ye shut the door man? I have a splitting headache." John Silver set out the silverware. "I told ye I'd recruit some swabs to join us. They will be coming soon."

In moments another pirate strode in and slammed the door shut. Silver beamed all over again, radiating conviviality. "This be my friend Wing Ti'p. He don't speak English very well but he be with us." Wing Ti'p was an Asian, swarthy and suntanned from years in the China sea. He flaunted a jaunty headband and fine blue coat, but looked downcast. Silver began carving a roast goose. "There be but one more to come, be kind to him mates, he be obscure but his heart be true."

The door squealled open again, admitting hot rum-infused air and a sturdy dutchman. The dutchman dragged a wooden chair across the room and leaned over the table. "I presume you are the grieved parties that I was asked to meet here. My name is Captain Hoseason. I am not a pirate captain properly speaking, but I wish to have justice, and if I must break the law to get it so be it."  Long John Silver snagged a seat at the now crowded table. "Alright men, we are all assembled, so I hearbye call to order the first Captain's council of Exploited Pirates."

Captain Hook twirled his mustache with his hook. "I demand to speak first." There were tears gathering in his eyes. "I have suffered most. It's that flying fiend Peter Pan and his Lost boys that are the cause of me woes. I have been beaten to shreds by those airborne brats. My crew was helpless. In the film "Hook" directed by Steven Spielberg, my men were defeated by paint guns and a very fat boy." Hook rose to his feet, voice shaking with intensity. "For most of the film I was left to try to make Peter's son abandon him. I killed one boy at the end of the film, just one, and Peter promptly outfought me and sealed me in that crocodile. Why couldn't I pull a pistol on that name-calling wretch? It isn't fair." Hook sank into his chair sobbing. "It isn't fair at all."

Silver and the other pirates looked grave. Wing Ti'p stood. "In Disney movie "Swiss Family Robinson" we were plenty beat by wimpy Robinson Family and the boy. My men attacked rocky hill and got plenty beat. We walked right into pits, got scratched by tiger, shot by ridiculous crossbow device, walked on collapsing bridge, hit on head by plastic logs and blown up by coconut bomb. So many things go perfectly for Robinson family. We happen to walk right on traps, happen to be spotted by boy on zebra, happen to be trapped by admiral's ship that come by just in time. It no fair. Movie director not give us a chance."

Long John Silver let that sink in for a moment before nodding to Captain Hoseason. The Dutchman stood and took a drink of wine. "I lost my brig, my crew and my first mate in the Disney film "Kidnapped". Hook barged in. "You are no pirate. What ships have you sunk? Who have you killed? You aren't even a privateer." Hoseason put down his wine. "I kidnapped a boy, I schemed to murder a passenger for 30 guineas and kept a first mate who was a drunk. I will not beg for help, and I was only in one film, but I stand for fair, unbiased treatment of pirates. I do not mean that pirates should win, but they deserve better than to be used as canon fodder.

Long John Silver stood last, shining his confident grin. "Gentlemen, capn's all. I have not been wronged like the rest of ye. I lost my crew and the ship I commandeered, but in true pirate style I turned the tables and went on to star in a sequel and a television series. I be what every pirate should have a chance to be, a pirate with style, with intelligence." Long John pulled out a rum-stained paper covered in handwriting. "Here be the charter for the League of Exploited Pirates. If ye cannot write sign with an x. Together we will fight for equality for all villains of the sea."

Hook, Wing Ti'p, Hoseason and Silver huddled together, writing their names in ink and hashing out the perticulars of the article. Behind them the door swung open. A man in a brown jacket slipped in, followed by a older fellow with grey sideburns. As the pirate captains turned the man touched the battered tricorner hat perched atop his dreadlocks and backed out the door. "Sorry." Said Captain Jack Sparrow. "Wrong room". 

I hope you enjoyed reading this article. I will try to post more often in the future, which due to current developments seems more likely. Please take a moment and tell me what you thought of it.

The Invisible World

The Invisible World

"Base, this is the Constellation, we are experiencing some unexpected gravitational pull." Captain John Connors wished that he could wipe away the sweat that was trickling down the visor of his spacesuit. His spaceship, the Constellation, was just outside of orbit with Saturn, performing a search of the moon Cletus for water. The grainy reply of the base on earth came through. "It is probably just Titan, you are drifting close to it's gravity field. Compensate your course." Captain Connors glanced back at his fellow astronauts, Teak and Alice. "O.K. base, compensating course."

The gravitational pull grew stronger and stronger. Connors activated booster rockets, but not on full, he needed to conserve fuel. Alice spoke on the personal communication channel. "Captain, this gravity field is almost exactly like reentry. If we weren't clearly thirty thousand miles from the nearest moon I would say there was a planet right in front of us." Connors nodded, even though no one could see it from inside his helmet. "Base, we are having trouble breaking away from the field, booster rockets on full, please advise." Static filled the channel. Connors threw some switches, trying to filter out the interference. "Base, come in base. I say again base, please respond." Static. Suddenly Captain John Connors felt very small, a tiny actor against the vast backdrop of space who had forgotten his lines.

The Constellation shook and began pitching down, despite the booster rockets. The three astronauts gasped as, where moments before there had been only a splendid view of Saturn's rings, the surface of a planet, blue with water and green with life, suddenly appeared before them. Connors cut the booster rockets and angled the ship to give him some control. Teak began rattling off the landing sequence checklist. Connors scanned his instruments, looking for a good place to put down. As the Constellation flew in decaying orbit within the atmosphere he considered a wavy purple forest, or a small desert framed by crescent-shaped mountains. Alarms began beeping. A indicator showed that the outside of the ship was flaming hot from reentry, in a few minutes the ship would disintegrate like a shooting star. "Teak, put us down over on that continent, if we can hit it." Connors sat rigid in his seat, unable to do more. Calling for base again and again over the static-choked channel. Parachutes flared out of the Constellation, slowing it to a few hundred miles per hour. The wheels extended, Teak pulled back gently on the stick and the spaceship gently demolished a giant mushroom farm.

Connors, Alice and Teak stepped out of the airlock, dropping slowly to the ground. John Connors didn't think of anything historic to say, he just bent down and ran his hands through the light, pinkish soil. Teak broke in on his profound thoughts. "We have company John."
The alien farmer was staggering towards them. He stood ten feet tall and hopped slowly on a single leg. Three eyes stared out of his blue, filmy, stunned face. Connors held out his hand slowly. The alien hopped forward and looked carefully at it. The strange person from space seemed to be offering him something, but he could not see it. He politely pretended to take something from Connors palm. The alien farmer was relieved, at least these person's were not hostile. His mouth curved downwards in a smile. Teak bounded up in the less-than-Earth gravity and grabbed the alien's hand, shook it, and let it go.

Everyone turned as dozens of three-legged pods bounded into sight and towards them. The pods formed in a circle around the Constellation. Forty tall aliens in black suits bounded out of them and rushed towards the ship, slipping on inter-species communicators and flashing badges with their slender hands. The chief alien approached the farmer. "Mr. Vitzala. I must ask you to forget everything that just happened to you. A Rumosta demolished your mushroom crop." He handed the farmer nine gleaming silver stones. "Fortunately the government is more than compensating you for your loss." The farmer nodded and began hopping away backwards. Teak waved at him. The alien waved back and hopped out of sight. The chief turned back to the astronauts. "You will be taken care off. Your ship will be repaired and readied for launch back to your world. You will be blindfolded and you must forget ever finding this planet." The Connors tried to protest but the black-suited aliens forced him into one of the pods and he was to a isolated facility hidden deep in a waving purple forest.

Four months later Alice, Connors and Teak found themselves four thousand miles from Earth, traveling aboard the repaired Constellation. The communication channel conveniently cleared and the control station came through. "Hey Constellation. Nice to see you back. That solar storm really messed up our comm's." Teak broke in. "Base, you will not believe what's happened out here. . ." A stern voice cut him off. "Teak, save it for the debriefing." Teak sat back in shock. Connors spoke. "We are beginning our approach for reentry, base. Please advise."

The landing went smoothly, without incident. The astronauts were hurried from the spaceship by black-suited men and debriefed separately. Connors was ushered into a lavish room bedecked with ribbons and left alone. Through a window he saw a massive crowd by a stage, waiting for the return of the heroes from space. A clean shaven man in a black suit and dark sunglasses stepped into the room. "Captain Connors. I must warn you not to speak to anyone about what happened to you in space." Connors bristled. "I am tired of people telling me what not to do. What are you going to do to stop me, huh? I'm a hero to these people. You gonna kill me? Or hide me away in some bunker?" The man in black shook his head and chuckled softly. "No John. We are not going to hurt you or threaten you. But nobody will believe you. What will you achieve? At most an official inquiry that we can effortlessly misdirect. Sure, it might make your biography sell better." John paced to the window and looked out. His wife and little boy were standing in the front row, beaming, waiting to see him. He turned back to the man. "But somebody has to tell the truth, even if nobody will believe." The man smiled, threw an arm over John's shoulder and led him to the door. "The world is not ready for this truth John. Go have your moment of triumph, see your family. Collect your generous retirement bonus and spend quality time with your son. Make memories on this planet." John Connors put his hand on the doorknob and sighed. "Alright, I won't go encouraging the conspiracy theorists. But I will never forget what really happened out there."

A cheer roared to life as the astronaut ran onto the stage and into his family's arms. The man in black headed for the back room where the spacesuits were being decontaminated. To anyone else it seemed he was frowning and upset, but inside he was smiling.





I hope you all enjoyed this short story. Please feel free to comment and tell me what you think.

Ten Favorite Screen Characters Tag

Sarah at http://howtowatchamotionpicture.blogspot.com/2015/05/10-favorite-screen-characters.html has tagged me to make a list of 10 of my favorite screen characters.

Instructions: For this quick, fun blog hop, you just name your 10 favorite characters from movies or TV, then tag 10 friends (if you can) to do the same!
This is such a fun tag to do. I hope you have fun with it also. Here are my ten most off-the-top-of-my-head favorite screen characters. P.S. I will try to avoid copying anyone else's picks.

"I come with glad tidings, of a world made free."

Loki is a wonderfully funny and well-played villain. He is one of my favorites and is hard to get down, always smiling and joking even as he plots world domination and treachery. It could almost be argued that he is an antihero, except he is so evil in his own happy way.

"Get Off my plane."

John Marshal, the heroic president of the United States in Air Force One, played by Harrison Ford. Marshal is a guy you would want by your side in a firefight. At once a loving family man and determined fighter, he never rests until the ones he loves are safe and the terrorists are brought to justice. Would our current president act so selflessly? John Marshal is a character worthy of emulation and has some great movie lines.

"There are a lot of ugly things in this world, son. I wish I could keep em' all away from you, that's never possible."

Atticus Finch, the lawyer in To Kill A Mockingbird. (Played by Gregory Peck.) Is a inspiring man who stands up for what is right but is never a stuffy prude about it. He is a solid citizen who loves his children and does all he can as defendant of Tom Robinson, a unjustly accused negro. Faced with a prejudiced jury, murderous southerners and the villainous Mr. Yule, Finch faces certain defeat but never turns back and wins his childrens respect.

"We both know I have to kill you now. You'll just have to imagine the fire."

Bane is another of my favorite villains. Every one of the baddies in the Dark Knight trilogy bring something special to the screen. Ra's Al'Ghul. (Am I spelling that right?) is the one who taught Batman, who gave him a path and lifted him from darkness. He had the calmness of a man completely dedicated to his cause. The Joker is a completely insane madman with real personality and lines, along with his own catchphrase. But ultimately I chose Bane, a brutal terrorist who can not only outsmart but outfight Batman and delivers some of the most memorable, deadpan quotes of any movie villain.

"Guys, I told you, call me Sully."

James T Sullivan is the lovable furry protagonist from Monsters Inc. He is an average joe who is the top scarer at the company. He meets, is terrified by and eventually charmed by the human child, Boo.
Sully is a friendly fluffball who has it all, a great job, admiration from his peers and his best friend, wisecracking Mike Wazowski. But he risks it all to rescue his human friend from his boss Waternoose and the sneaking reptilian Randal.

"No, I am your father."

Darth Vader is one of the most classic villains of all time. The powerful lord of the Sith, with his menacing black suit, helmet and cape he brings terrifying presence to every scene. His stern voice pronounces the will of his emperor as his red lightsaber cuts down all who oppose him. Few can match Vader, who wields the dark side of the Force. In the end he is redeemed and sacrifices his life to save his son. Star Wars would not have been the classic it is without Darth Vader.

"The price of freedom is high, always has been. But it's a price I'm willing to pay."

Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America, is my favorite Avenger, barely beating Thor. He was once a skinny kid from Brooklyn who was enhanced to the height of physical perfection. Now he fights injustice as the shield-throwing paragon of freedom. Steve has a firm moral code which he always adheres to, always doing what he sees is right. So this brave, noble, handsome and strong hero easily claims a place on my list.

"If one isn't willing to pay the price one shouldn't play the game."

There is not and probably will never be as great a detective as Sherlock Holmes. I really enjoy the modern incarnation as played by Benedict Cumberbatch. But my favorite is the Holmes of Basil Rathbone. Who can top that penetrating gaze, that snapping delivery, that energy? Sherlock seems to have been made for mysteries. He is bored to death with the life of average people, but give him a case, a puzzle or a crime and he does not rest until it is solved. But though his intellect is razor sharp he is not an emotionless robot. Holmes has few friends but to those he has he is understanding and fair. If something unexplainable has happened, the man to call is Sherlock Holmes.

 "Always remember, your focus determines your reality." 

Qui-Gon Jinn is a jedi knight who is a very rich, likeable character. Behind the lightsaber he is a stalwart friend, a wise warrior and a teacher. Qui-Gon is very practical, doing his best to get his friends out of danger. Throughout his adventures he always has a plan, but never controls or commands others, but rather persuades them, sometimes with the Force when necessary. Although he is cautious and prudent Qui-Gon has his own ideas, sometimes even defying the jedi council to support his gut feeling. When push comes to shove Qui-Gon Jinn is the man you want by your side.

"Hammond, after some consideration, I've decided, not to endorse your park." 

And finally, there is a noble model of the scientist-adventurer in Doctor Alan Grant. I wanted to put Indiana Jones here but decided it not to. Doctor Grant is a archaeologist who fights for survival against dinosaurs while he's not digging them up. When most people run for their lives, (and are quickly eaten.) Grant is the one who stays behind to help those who need help, using his knowledge of dinosaurs to stay one step ahead of the vicious reptiles. He is not just a survivor but a leader, taking care of everyone. When people all around him are losing their heads Grant stays calm. 

Well. That is my top ten favorite screen characters. I regret that it took so long to finish and my list is far from perfect, but I hope you enjoy it.

I cannot tag anyone right now because I just want to get this done and I don't know enough people to tag ten of them. I may tag someone later.

Power of the Digital Pen

The Power of the Digital Pen

How much can you write in a year? I decided to find out. This is how I arrived at my conclusion. For 

those who are not mathematically minded just skip to the bottom.

There are 365 days in a year. I subtracted 65 days (36.5%) for holidays, sick days etc.

I worked out a average typing speed of 25 words per minute and subtracted 25% for thought and 

word corrections. That leaves 18.75 word per minute.

If you typed for four hours every day you would get 1,200 hours of work done in a year. 

18.75 word per minute times 60 =1,125 words per hour. Bear with me.

1,200 hours per year times words per hour 1,125 =1,250,000 words typed in a year. But I didn't stop there.

My softcover edition of The Fellowship of the Ring, first book in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, is 8" tall and 5" long. I roughly estimated that there are 12.6 words per line in my book and 37.75 lines in an average page. There are 378 pages in my book not counting covers and introduction. Those pages all together are 1.5" thick. 

So 12.6 words per line times 37.75 lines per page equals the words per page, so 12.6 (37.75) =475.65 words per page. 

Next lets take our words per year and see how many pages we can type. 1,350,000 divides into 475.65 to equal 2838.221381 pages per year. And 2838.221381 divided by 378 pages that comprise the Fellowship of the Ring equals 7.508522172 or about seven and a half volumes every year (7.5) 

The thickness of the book, 1.5" times number of volumes, 7.5 equals 11.25" of writing. Given books 8" high and 5"wide one could turn out nearly a foot of books every year.

If one wrote poetry one could probably get even more.

That is 8" times 5" times 11.25" =450^3 cubic inches of literature.

As always I enjoy your comments so please tell me what you think. And thanks to my mother for the typing speed average.

1800 Union Jack

This is it, the long in coming alternate reality Avengers. I hope you enjoy it and as always I 

appreciate all comments. I am thinking of making a separate page for Marvel and DC one-

shots.


The dockside tavern was not a pleasant place. Unwashed sailors hobbled and staggered across the
floor, stepping in piles of leftovers from the tables. Two one-legged sailors at the bar turned to stare
at the stranger as he entered. His overcoat, fresh from the tailor and a beaverskin top hat marked him
as a gentleman, someone of importance, perhaps a captain hiring hands.

The gentleman scanned the dimly lit room for a moment and walked to the bar, boots thudding on the rotting boards. He leaned over the bar and called to the barkeeper. "Wine." Then he turned to look at the man beside him. The man was a strapping figure, finely tuned muscles bulging from under a faded blue jacket. His face was cleanshaven and two piercing blue eyes gleamed from under a tricorner hat. He noticed the gentleman's gaze and extended his hand. "I am captain Steven Rogers, what can I do for you?" The gentleman showed a soft smile. "I am Philip, an employee of a organization which desires your services. Steven frowned. He was not used to flowery words. "What king do you serve?" Philip drank his wine and glanced searchingly around the tavern. "We serve no king, but are nominally under George the third, king of England." Steve swallowed a draft of ale. "The king does not want the services of a Yankee privateer. If it was known I was here in England I am sure that redcoats would be swarming this place." He smiled a little. "You didn't bring any redcoats did you?" Philip looked Steve straight in the eye. "You are a great patriot captain Rogers. You carried out several daring smuggling runs to bring vital supplies to the colonies during their struggle for independance. We need a man who believes in freedom."

Steve furrowed his brow in thought. He took another swallow of the potent ale. He had already had three mugs of the potent brew, enough to make a grown man staggering drunk, but it didn't seem to affect him. Finally he spoke. "Who are your employers? I like to know who I am working for." Philip nodded. "We call ourselves Aegis. Imagine a large company, like the East India Trading Company, dedicated to stopping enemies who threaten the peace of the entire world. We will pay you well and you can walk away at any time, there is no contract to sign." Steve straightened and held out his hand. Philip gripped it and shook it warmly, but the smile on his face was fixed. "Don't look around. There is a man dressed in black on the stairs, he is very dangerous. We need to leave now, slowly."
Captain Rogers turned, slid a silver piece to the tavern keeper and strode purposefully towards the door. He detected a sound above the belching of sailors, the sound of the man in black flying through the air. Steve ducked. His assailant went over his back and crashed into a table, spraying ale everywhere. As he staggered to his feet Steve got a better look at him. A hood covered his face. His shirt was emblazoned with a white skull and crossbones. He was obviously in top physical condition. The man in black lunged at Steve, his fist flicked out and hit the captain. Steve crashed into a wooden post and threw a return punch with practiced ease. His foe evaded the blow with equal skill and rained punches on Steve, who protected his face with his arms. Philip called out in his quiet voice. "Crossbones, but your hands over your head and surrender." The man in black turned and saw Philip holding a double-barreled pistol at his head.

Crossbones leaped behind a post. The pistol discharged a moment later, clipping the post and spraying wood chips over the staring spectators. Crossbones leaped over a table and through the door of the tavern, Philip's second shot whistling past his ear. Steve grabbed a shield from the bar where he had left it. It was a simple round affair, made of metal with leather handles.
Steve slipped it on his arm and exited the tavern. As his eyes adjusted to the dark dock he saw Crossbones and two sailors aiming at him with blunderbusses, nasty close range guns loaded with metal fragments. Steve threw himself into a crouch with his shield covering him. A storm of shrapnel hissed towards him and bounced off of the shield. Philip dove back into the tavern as the sailors grabbed muskets from the ground and cocked them. Steve saw the new threat and stayed down. Crossbones aimed at the doorway where Philip had gone and signaled his men. The sailors began circling around behind Steve. Philip knew that Crossbones would shoot him if he showed himself, but he had to help Steve, he braced himself and cocked his backup pistol.

From the roof of the tavern a wild figure leaped into space and blasted one of Crossbones men in midair with a pistol. The figure hit the ground running and knocked out the other goon with one punch. As Crossbones aimed at this unexpected threat captain Rogers stood and threw his shield. The whirling arc of metal broke Crossbones musket in half. The villain turned and sprinted down a quay towards a waiting boat. Steve started after him but a cry brought him to a halt. Redcoats, british soldiers dressed in red uniforms, streamed onto the dockside and aimed their muskets at Steve. The figure who had rescued him stepped forward. In the dim lamplight Steve saw that it was a man dressed in pantaloons, boots and a thick jerkin. He also wore a cape emblazoned with a double cross. The man stepped forwards, his rugged face breaking into a smile as he adressed the soldiers. "Hey boys, uncock those muskets, you are letting that villain Crossbones get away." Aparently the soldiers knew this man. They slowly uncocked thier pieces and hurried along the quay after Crossbones receding ship. The man held out his hand to Steve, who warmly shook it. "You must be Cap'n Rogers, the Yankee privateer. It's a good thing mister Coulson had me stand by as backup." Philip stepped forwards. "Well done agent." He turned to Rogers. "This is Jack. He is quite a hero in England. He is working with Aegis for a while as security detail." Steve attached his shield to his back by a leather cord. "So when do I start work?" Coulson gestured towards a sloop moored to the quay where blinking lanterns winked. "My men are loading your ship with provisions. We can sail with the morning tide."

Cops and Robbers

Cops and Robbers

This is a short story that I wrote up over a couple of days. I will try to write my Marvel fanfic story soon. Please comment below. I enjoy your input.

"All right gentlemen, listen up." Roared the police Sergeant. "We have four targets." He activated a projector mounted on his jeep, throwing the image of a dirty mugshot onto the arena wall. Michael glanced around at the towering concrete walls that boxed them into a large gravel yard. His Sergeant barked at him. "Mike, I am trying to keep you alive out there and you are taking in the scene? Don't blame me if you are roadkill in ten minutes." He crunched over to the mugshot. "This is Madison. He is a small-time thief from Miami with a specialty in convenience stores. He has used handguns but didn't resist arrest." He pressed a remote and the mugshot changed. "This is Samuel. Don't let those spectacles fool you, he is a serial killer with three victims to his name. Likes shotguns and knives." Mike's mind was racing. Would Samuel have a shotgun? It would cost a few thousand bucks to get one into the arena. Sam probably would not be able to afford it, unless he had some high-ranking Syndicate friends.

The Sergeant changed the image again. "Say hello to Weaver." The four police officers smiled despite the tension. Weaver had a hard face. Dirt was plastered over his bald head. "Getaway driver is his bit. We ran him to ground in a Nevada corn field. He knows where his gang's stuff is hidden, so he may get some help." The projector gave a final click. Billy, Mike's partner, sucked in his breath sharply. The mugshot showed a malignant face. Wide, rolling eyes leered above a purple mohawk. The Sergeant frowned. "This is Crazy Eyes Harry. He is a hardcore gangster from Detroit. This rat escaped the Justice Arena two years ago after stabbing one officer and shooting another. He is a mascot of the Syndicate and very popular with the wierdo's. Watch yourself."

The projector darkened. The Sergeant stepped forward and shook the hand of each officer. He stopped at the team leader, Officer Jasper. "You be careful our there kid. Watch Samuel and Harry. Din't forget, every crook you capture means $20,000 for our department and everyone gets time off. But If they get to the Endzone they go free, with all their crimes pardoned. And always remember that you take care of your men, that is what is most important.
Michael stretched and began pacing back and forth as the Sergeant gave some final advice. "Don't freeze up. Our Department is counting on you bringing these men to justice. There are no rules in the Justice Arena. If one of those goons looks at you wrong you shoot him. Watch your back and protect your buddies." The steel door at the end of the yard slammed open, scattering rust chips. Mike sprinted forward and burst out into the Justice Arena.

Before him stretched a two-mile long expanse of city blocks. But it was a lifeless city. The buildings were made of prefabricated brick walls and empty window spaces. But Michael had no time to take in the sight. He glanced at the blue square directly before him. There lay the equipment that the force had bought for his squad, it wasn't much. Four batons, a bulletproof vest and two service revolvers lay cluttered around an old and battered police cruiser.
Mike looked up. Three hundred yards away the four criminals stood by a battered van, their orange prison suits in sharp contrast with the drab brick walls. All but one of them piled into the van. Mike sighed. A few days ago two officers had been shot as they tried to grab their equipment by a kid with a hunting rifle. All four cops had been killed eventually. The crooks had sauntered across the endzone like royalty. That wasn't going to happen this time.

Jasper dashed to the police cruiser and started the engine. "Michael, get a revolver." He yelled. "Billy and Ahmed. Grab the nightsticks and pile in the back." Mike wanted to protest, he wanted Billy to have the revolver. But he was disciplined, the Academy had taught him that much. They told every student about the 32nd match of the Justice Arena, where two police  officers shot each other in an argument over equipment. Ever since that day insubordination had been called a "32."
Mike buckled into his seat and checked the revolver chamber. Those cheapos at the Department hadn't even given him six rounds, only five. And bullets only cost $5 each. Jasper stepped on the gas. The engine groaned, misfired and sputtered to life. The cruiser closed in on the criminal who had been abandoned by the van. Mike saw that it was Madison. He stood dumbly in the road like a deer caught in headlights. Jasper barely slowed down. "Ahmed, hop out and take care of him." Ahmed nodded and opened the door. He was really well-built african dude, we all liked him. Madison barely twitched as Ahmed ran up to him, nightstick poised, he appeared to be unarmed. My partner stopped short. "You do realize you will be executed if we capture you, man, right."? Madison hung his head, his knees were shaking uncontrollably. "I got nothing man. Just do it quick will ya?" Ahmed hit him on the side of the neck expertly, an instant knockout. Madison crumpled to the ground.
We sped onwards after the van. Our cruiser was an old '87 model, barely running. The van was getting farther and farther away. Billy pointed ahead. "Mike, one of those jailbirds piled out of the van by that alley. I'm goin' after him." Jasper looked back at us through the steel grating. "No, Mike goes." Mike frowned. "Jasper, just because I have a gun..." Jasper cut him off. "Are you committing a 32 Mike?" Mike cocked his gun. "No sir."

Michael leaped out and dashed headlong into the alley. The cruiser's backfiring motor faded away and a strange silence descended. He trotted over the asphalt, his own heavy breathing pounding in his ears. Mike turned a corner and stopped cold. Not five yards away Samuel was trapped in a dead end. Mike stepped forward slowly. "Put your hands on your head and kneel." Samuel started babbling. "I can't, I can't. Please let me go. I just want to live." Mike took another step forward, revolver raised. He looked into Sam's eyes, frightened rabbit's eyes darting about behind fragile spectacles. He saw the sweat trickling down his neck. Samuel noticed his glance. "Please, I just want to live, like you. What did they say I did? They are lying. I never hurt anybody. Will you let me go? I just want to live." For a moment Mike felt torn. Then he saw Samuel looking at something beyond him. He risked a quick look. Thirty feet up hovered a television drone, its camera capturing every moment of this scene. His friends in the force, millions of people glued to their virtual television sets, and his wife, she wouldn't let the kids watch this televised murder, but she would be there. Worrying about him.
Then Michael felt anger, a deep fury welling up inside him. They were playing with him. None of this was real. These criminals had already been caught, they were guilty. But just because the rich kids wanted to make a buck, just because everyone in this cash-soaked, hyper-capitalist world wanted a real cops-and-robbers show, he was here in a fake city, risking his life and his family's happiness. Pointing a gun at a unarmed man in glasses.

Michael gritted his teeth. He was torn between anger at his manipulators and a reluctance to kill. Samuel moved towards him, shaking and weeping. Something about this set alarm bells ringing in Mike's mind. He gripped his gun tighter. "Stand back. Get down on the ground." Samuel kept coming, less than a yard away now. One hand raised to ward off a blow. Mike saw the other hand slide behind his back. He aimed at Samuel's heart and fired.Samuel twisted around and slammed into the asphalt. Michael saw the butcher knife that he had hidden behind him, tied to his belt. Another second and that helpless little man would have killed him. Michael sank to his knees. He wanted to hide somewhere, away from the camera drone, from the world and from himself. The sound of a automatic weapon spraying bullets came to him. He forced himself to move, rose to his feet. His legs stopped shaking. Perhaps this was just a cruel game. But his squad was in danger and they needed him.

Michael emerged onto the street. It seemed like he had been in that alley for days, but it had been barely sixty seconds. Ahmed was dragging the unconscious Madison back to the blue zone. Three hundred yards ahead the police cruiser was piled into the van. Mike jogged towards the wreck.
 Beside the police cruiser he found Jasper kneeling beside Billy. His partner had been shot in the chest. Jasper was trying to stop the blood from flowing out. "It was Crazy Harry, Mike. That psycho has a assault rifle and a belt of hand grenades. He waited around a turn and shot Billy as came around. My gun is empty. Weaver is high tailing it for the endzone." Michael saw him from the street, a small figure receding into the distance. "Samuel is dead." Jasper nodded. "Well that is good news. Mike. I need you to go after Harry." Mike turned red. "No sir. I can't. I just about let Samuel kill me. I'll stay with Billy, he's my partn . . ." Jasper spoke through gritted teeth. "Don't do this to me. I am your superior. A chief's first duty is to him men. You think I don't want to hunt Harry down? I must stay here and keep Billy alive until the round ends and medical help arrives. Take my bulletproof vest. Find Harry and kill him. I will send Ahmed after Weaver once he gets back." Mike wordlessly buckled on the vest. Jasper caught his sleeve as he turned away. "Mike. I'm counting on you. Be careful out there." Michael nodded and entered the alley beside the van.

Even though it was midday in the Arena a forbidding gloom hung over this garbage bin-riddled place, shaded by the brick non-buildings. Mike walked forward, gun drawn. From every shadow and window Crazy Harry's insane eyes seemed to leer out at him. He felt his legs start to shake again and forced himself to keep moving. A garbage bin lid creaked behind him and he spun around. Nothing was there. Then he heard a chuckle of laughter further down the alley. Harry was not running for the endzone. He was going to hide and kill cops.

Michael stopped, he detected a whirring sound. He turned slowly and saw the camera drone filming him. It was giving away his position. If it had not been strictly against the rules he would have shot it down. A small object sailed through the air and clanked against the wall beside him. It was a steel ball covered in serrated fragments. It was a grenade. Mike hurled himself away and rolled behind a garbage bin. An explosion shattered the brick around him. Dozens of red-hot splinters zinged through the air, bouncing off the metal bin. Mike was shaken but not hurt.
He rose to his feet and ran through the cloud of brick dust. On the other side he found that the alley turned a corner. Slowly he turned the corner and found that the alley ended against the fifty-foot concrete wall that surrounded the arena. His ears, still ringing from the explosion, did not hear the quiet tread of sneakers as Harry moved towards him. He turned to retrace his steps just as another grenade rolled towards him. There was nowhere to run. Mike ran forward, grabbed the grenade and threw it through a window. Brick dust billowed out and filled the alley. Mike vaulted through a ground-level window into a hollow house. He leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. The brick dust parched his throat. His vision was blurry. If he did not get water soon he would faint.

Michael staggered through the house and out another window. His feet struck something that clanked and he looked down. Two grenade pins. Harry had been here. Mike reeled and leaned against the wall. He rallied his strength and headed down the alley. He turned a corner and saw, out of the corner of his eye, a sneaker-clad foot go around a bend in the street. Michael raced down the street and around the corner with reckless speed, determined not to let his tormentor get away. Just in time to see the sneakers disappear again. He came around another corner and saw Crazy Harry dart behind the next corner before he could get off a shot.

Mike pulled up short, his tired mind racing. Harry was not fleeing from him, he was leading him somewhere where Mike would be helpless. Then another grenade rolled around the corner. If Mike had kept running it would have been right behind his legs. He leapt into another window space as an explosion filled the alley. Mike's legs were wobbling again, but from fatigue. He forced them to obey him, to carry him across the building and out another window. He got to his feet and saw his target slip across a street and into another alley. Mike took several ragged breaths and entered the alley.Harry was waiting at the end of the alley, his assault rifle aimed at Officer Jasper.

 Instinctively Mike raised his gun. Harry moved behind Jasper, denying Mike a shot at his cranial vault. Jasper stood very still. "Mike, listen. There are only three ways this ends. One is Harry leaves with me as hostage and gets away, and I won't let that happen. Second is Harry shoots me and you kill him. Third is Harry shoots you and I kill him." Mike's hand shook, his gun wobbling off aim despite all his training. "How is Billy?" Jasper swallowed. "He's dead." Behind him Crazy Harry cackled with glee. "You dumb cops, we should be hunting you down instead of the other way around. Some day its gonna be like that, buncha cops dumped in the Arena and we get to hunt 'em. My bosses are gonna give us real good stuff. Machine guns, rocket launchers. You wanna know why you always lose? You suckers always stick together, while guys like me? We look out for number one and got nothin' to lose."

Jasper gritted his teeth as Harry twisted his arm behind his back and began dragging him away. "Mike, you know what you have to do." Mike shook his head, his voice cracked in his dust-dry throat. "No sir, don't do this." His commanding officer walked backwards slowly. "You have a family Mike, you have kids who depend on you. Now do your duty." Jasper turned like a snake and belted Harry over the head, the same moment as rifle fired five bullets into his chest. As Jasper fell backwards Mike fired, he hit Harry in the arm. As the criminal spun around he shot him in the back. Harry fell down dead. Mike kept firing until all five bullets were gone. Then he threw down his gun and knelt by his officer. There would be no last words. Officer Jasper was dead.

Police Officer Michael Waller sat silently in the medical helicopter beside the bodies of two criminals and two policemen. Weaver had been caught and would be executed along with Madison. Michael gazed out impassively at the sprawling metropolis of New Washington, the paramedic handed him headphones, yelling over the engine that it was a call for him. He put on the set and the world went silent. Then he heard a voice, the voice of his wife. "Mike, are you all right?" Tears rolled down his cheeks. "Sherry, I'm here." He coughed and took a sip of water. "Don't worry baby. I'm coming home. I love you so much."

At the Federal Networking Association's main offices on Court street A leering leech named Keelman leaned back in his chair, dictating a memo for his secretary. "Michael has the right qualities for a Arena officer. Savagery, skill and pent-up emotion. We will find a way to retain him for mid- to high level events. Begin researching friends and family connections." He smiled like a tiger baring its fangs. "He may need some persuading."