NOTES: This is the finale of a saga what began when this whole Op started and went on haitus around March. Hopefully, there's nothing in here that violates copyright and/or current continuity. Speaking of continuity, for the Continuity Impaired, this story takes place about three or so weeks after the events in "Turning Point Battle part 16." Enjoy! --MDS ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Phoenix Fallout: "From the Ashes, a Phoenix..." "I've been dead once already. It's very liberating. Think of it as... therapy." --The Joker, _Batman_ PROLOGUE: Sitting ducks before the four cruisers, we drifted, shields gone, power almost gone. There was truly nothing to be done. Every rat runs into a trap that it can't get out of, and this was mine. I sat back into the command chair, finally defeated. "Minerva," I said quietly, "send the message over the Jihadlink, please." <> replied Minerva. Then, as an unbearable white glow came from the four X'hirjq ships, she added <> I laughed softly, as the glow filled the _Long Shot_. "Thank you, Minerva. It was one hell of a Trip, wasn't it?" The world exploded. ************ The world exploded and there was... Light. Nothing but light. A few seconds or a few centuries later, the light dimmed to a consistent red glow. Somewhat homey, like a campfire. Really relaxing. Then I realized I had my eyes shut, and I opened them. More of that damned light. I blinked my eyes and looked around. Blue. White. More blue. The thoughts popped unbidden into my mind. Sky. Water. Beach. How the hell did I get here? I sat up. I had been lying on a beach, somewhere. The ocean was lapping contentedly against the shore. There were a few clouds in the sky, drifting back into a gray mass near the horizon. All very peaceful, very picturesque, a great vacation spot. And still the question remained: How did I get here? And where was "here," exactly? Okay, deep breath. Take stock of what's happened. How long has it been since... I looked at my watch. The date was five weeks after the last time I looked at my watch. Five frigging *weeks*. Allright. So it's been five weeks. I'm alive, and that's all that counts. I stood up, and started walking towards the land. As I looked around in my jacket, taking a quick gadget inventory, something possessed me to look back to where I was. I wasn't leaving footprints. The sand was soft enough, and deep enough, that I should have left a well-marked path. But there wasn't even the slightest hint of a trace. "Holy shit!" The exclamation resounded like an explosion against the gentle white noise of the surf. Maybe I wasn't alive, like I thought.... Allright, idiot, calm down and let's try this again. You're supposed to be a scientist, right? To try and calm myself down, I leaned on a post. At least, I tried to lean on a post. My hand went straight through the post. I must have jumped at least two feet in the air. What the flying fuck was going on? I apparently no longer had any substance. I pulled a small geegaw out of my jacket, and tossed it into the sand. It landed with a soft kerplunk, scattering the sand every which way. I walked back and picked it up. It had mass, and was solid. At least, it felt solid to me, but where did that leave me? I tried to put my hand on the post again. This time, I could feel my hand resting on the post, and it didn't look like my hand had passed through it. In fact, it was hovering a hair's width above the surface. I pressed down. I could feel the pressure, and the post moved slightly. Very weird Forget it for now, just find out where the hell you are and get back into contact with the Jihad. Five weeks is a long time to be incommunicado with anybody. So, I shelved the problem of my metaphysical state of being for the moment, turned back towards the hills, and went looking for a road. It didn't take too long to find one. A simple two-lane backcountry road that weaved around the hills. I walked along it for a few minutes, and then saw a car traveling in the same direction I was headed. Stepping over to the curb, I did what all good people who are lost and confused do; I stuck my thumb out and tried to hitch. It worked. The car pulled over. It was a rainbow-colored Volkswagen bus, which was getting on in years. Still, a ride is a ride. The driver's window rolled down, and I caught the whiff of marijuana smoke rolling out. "Hey, dude, want a lift?" he said. I replied, "Sure. Um, I dunno how to say this but, um, where exactly is here?" The driver looked at me strangely. "Man, are you allright? Sounds like you had a bad trip." "I suppose you could say that," I said, remembering what happened five weeks or five minutes earlier. "I was high and took a really long fall. Can you tell me where the hell I am?" "Bud, we're on our way to Frisco. This here is Marin County, California. Sausalito is just over the ridge." California? How the hell did I get to California? "Think you can give me a ride into town?" There was a small Jihad supply depot somewhere in San Francisco, I couldn't remember where exactly, but I knew I could find a secure comlink there. The ride itself wasn't memorable. The bus' suspension was shot to hell, but thankfully the roads were smooth enough that it didn't matter. My erstwhile benefactor, however, apparently had taken a vow of silence on his commune, since he rattled on about the poor pot crop this year, although the stuff that's been harvested was pretty potent, since the last month had been full of big lightshows in the sky every night. That particular anecdote I did take notice of, since it gave me a sense of timing. Apparently, somebody had won the battle about two, maybe three weeks ago. If the Golden Gate was repainted purple I'd know who had won. Thankfully, it wasn't; the Golden Gate was the same color it had been the last time I was in Frisco. My hippie friend dropped me off near Fisherman's Wharf and zoomed off towards the heart of the city. I shrugged and walked down the boardwalk, looking for the Jihaddi depot. I had a feeling that I might find the front for the depot somewhere in the tourist section of the waterfront; hiding in plain sight, as it were. At the same time, I was trying out my newfound abilities. Every now and then, I'd drop inside a wall or kiosk or other solid object and see if anybody noticed. The interesting thing was, I could still perceive everything that was going on outside the object I was hiding in. I knew that... before... I had no appreciable psychic powers. But now... It was about then I spotted them. Not Jihaddi, but spoungin. My new sixth sense screamed out "SPONGIE!" as a group of twenty or so people dressed in green and purple stood in a small knot a few yards ahead of me on the walk. I ducked inside a wall and watched as they continued to stand there. I didn't know if they had weapons, but they were all looking at a picture of something. Best guess: Somehow, they were tipped off to my arrival and were looking for *me*. Why they were looking for me in particular, I couldn't know, and I figured that I couldn't take to time to stop and ask. I withdrew all the way into the wall to take a few seconds and think. I needed an advantage. Armed only with a few tools and a small PPG, I'd need something to either distract them or get rid of them... waitwaitwaitwait... Their shoes. They had a small blue triangle on the heels. The *Evil Geniuses logo!* What was that project? The shoes would toss the spongie into near orbit at the right cue. What was the cue? Oh, yeah... I walked out of the wall, and strode right into the mob of spongies. Pulling out a pocket audio player, I cued up a particular song... /o~I love you, you love me.... And at the end of the first line, all twenty spongies rose up into the air, and rocketed away. They were moving fast enough that nobody noticed when they suddenly stopped blocking the way. Scratch twenty spongies. And allowing the next batch of fifty or so to run towards me at top speed, various weapons drawn and a murderous gleam in their eyes... ************* The spongies hurtled towards me, all armed, and all very unhappy. So, unarmed except for a small gun and my wits, I did what any intelligent Jihaddi would do. I dived out of their way and took off at high speed down a side street. The spongies followed, pouring through the narrow street like bees out of a hive. I continued to dash through the streets, always letting my pursuers see where I was headed. If I was going to have to take them on, I wanted to get them away from the civilians. And the best open place within easy fleeing range was Golden Gate Park. Just enough open space to keep the yokels away from the mayhem. Right ahead of me was a large athletic field. I dashed to a nearby softball diamond, and waited. Thirty seconds behind me, all fifty sponge-minions came running. I drew my PPG and taking careful aim, fired. The first line dropped about ten meters away, and a few others in the next line. About half of them were killed, and the rest backed off to the edge of the field. They hung back as I holstered my PPG and walked towards the mound of bodies. The weapons they had been carrying were pretty primitive, crude clubs and really rough blades. I was so engrossed with checking for decent weapons that I didn't notice a Loved One creep up behind me and swing a massive X'hirjq sword down, cleaving my head in two. At least, that's what should have happened. The Loved One squealed in intense surprise when the sword went straight through my head, all the way into the ground. And then it was shocked even more when I spun around and slammed my fist into its blubbery throat. It dropped, choked for a few seconds, and stopped moving. I yanked the sword out of the ground and spun around. My erstwhile attackers had vanished, fleeing back to wherever they had come from. I was going to have to find out where exactly that was, but first, I wanted to find that supply depot. So, I went looking. Unfortunately, my Special Friends had different ideas. No sooner than I had walked back into the street, I was jumped (yet again) by a large group of Loved Ones. I was prepared this time, with a sword and a few extra charges for my PPG (which I fished out of my jacket). But this time, they were carrying some sort of energy net and plasma weapons. I zapped a few with my PPG, but none would get close enough for me to use the sword. They fired a few plasma bursts at me, but either weren't aiming at me or were trying to scare me into surrendering. Fat chance. I howled and dove for the nearest Loved One, sword poised to strike. It jumped back and fired the net at me. I figured that it would phase through me, like every other solid object I wanted to move through did. It didn't. It tossed me back and pinned me to the ground. The web was made of glowing light. Every time I moved , it moved with me. It was an effective barrier to my new ability. Somebody had been preparing for this, and knew more about what had happened than I did. The Loved Ones approached, and scooped me up in the net. They tossed me into the back of an unmarked purple van and drove off. The trip didn't seem long, only a few minutes. And when they hauled my carcass out of the van, I could still see the Frisco skyline in the background. We had pulled into an office park. Very nice and suburban. The name on the fancy hi-tech plaque in front was "YENRAB BIOTECHNOLOGIES, INC." Just goes to show that spongies and their masters don't have much imagination, or they'd have named the building something different. They hustled me inside, past several secretaries and assorted minions in purple uniforms, into a downward sloping corridor. A few twists and turns down colorful hallways, and then they left me standing in front of a steel door. And out of that door came a tallish orange lizard, wearing a purple labcoat. B'hii J'haa. It smiled and said in a sugary voice, "Welcome, Professor Malaclypse, to the new Purple Genesis Pit." ************ I blinked. "New Purple Genesis Pit? What the hell are you talking about?" The Wyrmspawn smiled slightly. "Professor, don't play the fool with me. I have studied you in great detail ever since your disappearance five weeks ago. I know you made a study of our scientific advances, in particular the Purple Genesis Pit." "Yes, yes, I know about the Genesis Pit, that facility you used to clone Loved Ones in Australia. I also know it didn't work out very well, and that it was destroyed some years ago." "Yes, yes, we lost that Pit, but we had several others secreted around the globe. This was our most advanced facility." I said, rather impatiently, "Allright, but what the hell does this have to do with *me*? You said you had studied *me*. Why?" The Wyrmspawn led me down a hallway into a polished room filled with advanced medical equipment. A lot of the junk seemed... alien. Different lines and colors than the burnished metal look of the Human equipment. "Well," it said as it gave me the grand tour, "I know enough about your background, and about the circumstances of your disappearance, that I could guess what would happen, if not where you would reappear. After that, it was just a matter of broadcasting your likeness to the local groups of followers with instructions to detain you should you be spotted." "Fine. Very well. All nice and efficient, just like the modern military. Now, why am I so important?" "Quite frankly, Professor, you are my key to immortality and ultimate power over my cousin." I was truly unimpressed. "Really? L'il old me? The key to your gaining the brass ring? I feel honored." "You might, at that. Have you ever heard of the concept of transcendental illumination?" "Only as a myth..." I suddenly had a really interesting suspicion. "Are you saying..?" "Yes." Well, that was a bombshell, especially coming from a creature like B'hii J'haa. Transcendental illumination, possibly the rarest event that could happen to a normal human, and it had happened to me. (To break the narrative for a second, let me explain transcendental illumination. Transcendental illumination is, pretty simply, the transfer of a human material form and consciousness into a permanent lattice of energy. This lattice will retain everything that the mold was, and have a few extra abilities, like phasing in and out of normal matter. The only problem with TI is that it take special circumstances to make it happen. Massive amounts of energy are required to make the transition, and it has to done in exactly the right way and at the right time, in the right place, that it takes an act of Goddess just to happen. Which is why it is so rare. What must have happened was this: When I was stuck between those X'hirjq battlecruisers when they fired all at once, the sheer energy hitting the _Long Shot_ must have created the right conditions for the transformation. And I guess that Eris must *really* like me, since it did work, and I was transformed. Okay, that's enough of a narrative break, let's continue...) Struggling to regain my composure, I answered, "so even if I have been illuminated, how does that help you? I can't recreate the circumstances of my illumination, and I wouldn't do it even for you, Wyrmspawn." B'hii J'haa growled a bit, then answered, "Of course not. But you don't need to recreate it. I already have. All I wanted you for was to check the readings of your form against the generators I plan on using. Now that I have those readings, I might as well allow you to witness my transformation." "Your transformation? Not your master's? Or even your sister's? I would have thought..." The Wyrmspawn cut me off. "That's where you thought wrong. B'harne is a fool, too interested in destroying the Jihad and taking this one planet to bother with grasping true power. And my sister is weak, willing to serve under B'harne rather than take power for herself. I, however, once gifted with transcendental illumination, will have the ability to take power from my cousin and then focus our power towards taking the multiverse for ourselves!" B'hii J'haa then left me in the company of two Loved Ones, who frog-marched me to the fringe of a massive cloning facility. "I might as well," it said, "show you our new augmentation program. "You see, Professor, the concept is simple. B'harne needs a large shock corps of minions who are not only willing to do his bidding, but also able to perform the more complex tasks asked of us. This way, we would no longer have to rely on the whims of alien mercenaries like the X'hirjq to do our heavy scientific work. "We have tried a number of devices in order to increase the intelligence of both our human minions and the Loved Ones. Cybernetic brain implants worked well on humans, more so on Loved Ones, but those who were augmented lost their sanity as their undying love for Lord B'harne seemed to conflict with the circuitry. A simple neural tissue graft worked for a short time, but then degenerated quickly. "But with our recent alliance with the X'hirjq, we suddenly have access to advanced genetic engineering equipment that we would not have had otherwise. That, plus X'hirjq tissue, gave us the break we needed." "You know," I said, breaking B'hii J'haa's monologue, "this is all very interesting, and I wish I could take notes, really and I mean it, but I still don't get what the point is. You wanted an intelligent Loved One or Sponge Minion. And I take it that the project worked?" "Yes, but after much trial and error. The human subjects which we altered with X'hirjq DNA died soon after they were removed from the bioreactors. Excessive incompatibility between the tissues. However, the Loved One hybrids seemed to take it better. The first generation Loved One / X'hirjq hybrid was gestated three weeks ago, and the second generation is being cloned from the original stock as we speak." A giant Loved One shambled across the room. Unlike most of its kin, this one had a patchy gray and pink skin, and underneath a layer of blubber, muscles rippled. "Meet Bruno," B'hii J'haa burbled happily, "the first of our new breed of Loved Ones. He is twenty times stronger, three times faster and masses much more than the average Loved One. Once his brothers have been cloned, we will finally have what Lord B'harne has desired since the beginning; an army of superstrong shock troops to use against the Jihad! And with them under my control, *I* have their power to aid me! "We will triumph!" ************ Was this a low moment? Well, I suppose it could be called a low moment, being trapped in a San Francisco office park by B'hii J'haa and a horde of Sponge-Minions and Loved Ones, and witnessing the birth of a new breed of killer shock trooper for B'harne. However, it wasn't my lowest moment, because, loyal Boy Scout that I am, I had an ace up my sleeve. And it was set to fire in five minutes. You see, during my little enforced tour of Yenrab BioTechnologies, Inc, I had dropped a little something behind one of the cloning vats. I had my little audio player stuck to the rear of the vat, with the audio set to "killzone" and timed to play the first guitar riff of "Money for Nothing" in ten minutes. I figured the sound would be enough to paralyze the teeming minions, Loved Ones, hybrids, and even B'hii J'haa, who was mounting a platform surrounded by massive fusion generators and plasma cannon as I narrated. "Now!" bellowed the yellow pseudosaur, "I shall have the power that only gods have had before! I will take the power from my cousin and then all things shall be MINE!" A group of Hybrid technicians started up the power on the plasma cannon. They began to hum loudly as tons of power poured into them. I began to edge away from my captors, as they were all transfixed by the spectacle of B'hii J'haa standing, Christ-like, on the platform waiting for the blast of energy to transform into supposed godhood. And then it hit. #Dire Straits, "Money for Nothing" _Brothers in Arms_ You could actually *feel* the sound as it slammed out across the room. Every minion and Loved One fell to their knees, squealing in pain as the guitar riff pounded out. The Hybrids were shocked, surprised, but not stopped, as they bounded forward, looking for the source of the sound. Even the technicians, who should have been watching B'hii J'haa's equipment, went hunting for my audio player. This was a good break, as I walked forward to the opening bars of "Money for Nothing," pulled a few controls, wrecked a few others, and then ran like hell. B'hii J'haa, trapped on the platform, could only watch in a panic as all the reactors began to overload simultaneously. "Oh, shit..." #David Arnold, "Jolly Roger" _ID4_ Soundtrack The entire complex was in a panic. Spoungin, Loved Ones, hybrids, and assorted mutant hellbeasts were scurrying around like ants, trying to keep the reactors from blowing them and their master into orbit. I, being a creature which was, for all purposes, immune to the effects of hydrogen bombs and things of like nature, did what any other demi-immortal in that situation would've done. I Ran Like A Mother Fucker. What, you were expecting me to sit there and watch as the entire place got vaped? *You* try it, then I'll give it a shot, 'kay? It was touch and go there for a few seconds, as I had to knock a couple of spoungin out of my way and then phase through a huge mob of "office workers" who were swarming out of the front's glass doors. I did manage to make it out of the building and get out of the office park before it touched off. Even so, I was only a few dozen yards down the road when the entire building exploded in a pillar of purple and yellow flame. It was pretty impressive to see the whole thing suddenly vanish into a glassy crater. Eventually the conflagration died down, and I walked back towards San Francisco, looking for the Jihaddi depot and a stiff drink, thinking happy thoughts about what B'harne might do to his cousin if he ever find out about B'hii J'haa's ambitions towards the throne... ************ And so it was, almost seven hours after I had found myself on a beach in Northern California, that I walked into a small gift shop near Fisherman's Wharf, which was marked as the local Jihaddi supply depot. I walked up the clerk on duty, noticed he had a small Doberman pin on his lapel, and asked, "Do you have any hunting gear?" He looked up and said, "Try a sporting-goods store, bud. This is a gift shop." "This is special gear. I'm hunting Sponge and Wyrm." The clerk looked a little startled. "Right this way, sir." He motioned to a back room with a red door. "Do you have any special requests?" "Not now, thanks. Is there a communications unit available?" "Of course. Connections to all main Jihad networks, text and vid. It's in the back next to the grenade launchers." I walked through the door and found a fair-sized warehouse filled with various weapons and vehicles, all waiting for needy Jihaddi. I noted a dark blue Damage-class Cybercycle, in pretty good condition sitting in a corner. The com unit was where the clerk had said it was, a little dusty but serviceable. Since the EGfaBT network was down the last time I heard, I patched into the Blood Jihad net and tried to raise Base One. I was answered by a trooper, in the Army/Air Force by the look of his uniform. "State name, rank, and clearance code. If this isn't a matter of life and death, get off this channel." I mentally cursed the military mind and replied, "*Senior* Technician Malaclypse, clearance code Omega Alpha, requesting direct connection to the CinC or the highest ranking officer available. And it is a matter of life and death. Yours. Now *move!*" The rank-and-file blinked, then recovered his composure. "CinC Arsenal is currently unavailable for the moment. Stand by to connect to Chief Skunk Uplink." The screen flashed a few times, then I was greeted with the slightly surprised visage of the Skunk. "Mal? Where have you been, man?" "I should ask the same of you. Last time I heard, you were in Luna Base when it went kablooey. How did you get out of that?" "It's a long story, and I'll tell you about it over a beer one of these days. In any case, what happened to you? When the Jihadlink came back online, the first thing we saw was your last will and testament. So what happened to you?" "I'll wait for you to buy me that beer and we'll swap stories. In any case, here's a quick recap of what's happened in the last few hours." And I gave Uplink the quick and dirty version of what happened, B'hii J'haa, Loved Ones, and everything. "And that's it, so far," I concluded. "That is incredible." "That ain't the half of it. I'll probably put in a full report when I get back to Base One." "You want a teleportal pickup?" "Nah, there's a nice Cybercycle gathering dust here. I think I'll ride in. I need some time to think a few things out. Be seeing you in a few days. And remember, you were going to buy me that beer." "Allright, see you later. Off." ************ EPILOGUE: I sped through Nevada at Formula One speeds, since there's no real scenery in Nevada to slow down for. While part of me was making sure that I didn't hit pedestrians, jackrabbits, and such vermin, the rest of my mind was racing with the events of the last few days. I now had abilities that were beyond most humans. Hell, beyond all humans. All that I had read about transcendental illumination never really set out a full list of limitations. Seems that nobody had ever played with the bounds of the concept before. But I had never tried anything like this before. And it was going to be one hell of a trip to find out. Besides, I had things to do, AI's to recode, and an organization to rebuild from the ground up. Life was gonna be really *busy* for a looooonnnnng while.... *** CODA: And in another part of the multiverse, the demon known as B'hii J'haa awoke in a resurrection crypt, safe in the knowledge that whatever he tried, there would be another tomorrow. Except.... A pair of iron-cold paws gripped the back of B'hii J'haa's throat, and a sugary voice hissed menacingly into his ear, "You dared to go behind my back and try to usurp my power, eh?" B'hii J'haa screamed. And screamed. And screamed. And screamed. And screamed And screamed And screamed. The END *** This story is the property of S. Michael Breen and the Rainbow Connection, Ltd. (c)SMB 1996