Adventures of Superguy

July 22, 2010 - Isla Santa Prisca

Caribbean Sea

20:04:30

“We’re approaching Santa Prisca.” M’gann stated from her command throne. The team sat strapped in to their crash seats, in a tense silence. 

Connor’s knee would not stop bouncing, but thankfully his new combat boots didn’t squeak against Ship’s deck. He was wearing black combat pants and a black compression t-shirt, with the symbol of the House of El in matte red. He also had a tactical looking backpack on his lap, covered in loops and MOLL-E panels. Around him the team were in their new Stealth-tech uniforms; a grandiose term for what looked like a simple color change to matte black and greys. Mostly black and greys; for some reason Robin’s cape liner was still canary yellow.

Not gonna ask, gonna stay frosty and pretend that I know what I’m doing. Cadmus put a lot of training in the mind palace, it’ll be fine. We’re just here to scout. LIke Batwoman said, we’re just here to observe and report.

Batwoman’s briefing had been a surprise that afternoon. A sudden arrival via Zeta-Tube and they were called into the Hall for a meeting. Holographic screens popped up showing a tiny island nation in the Caribbean that he was sure had no real world counterpart, but he knew all the same. 

Santa Prisca. 

Homeland of one of Batman’s most notorious villains, the steroidal supergenius Bane.

Of course, the mission pertained to Venom, Bane’s juice of choice.

“Isla Santa Prisca. This island nation is the primary source of a dangerous and illegal  neo-steroid. A strength enhancing drug sold under the street name ‘Venom’.” Batwoman narrated as the screens flicked though various views; a topographical map of the island, the injectors and slap patches Venom was sold as, and then pictures of a massive chemical plant facility.

“Infared heat signatures indicate their factory is still operating at full capacity, but all shipments of Venom have been inexplicably cut off. That’s where the team comes in.” Batwoman turned away from the power point presentation and addressed the assembled team directly. 

“This” she insisted, “is a covert recon mission only. Observe and report. If the Justice Guild needs to intervene, it will.” There was significant emphasis on the ‘recon mission only’ part. It was clear the Bat thought they would go off half cocked.

Come on, Bats, why send us if you don’t trust us to do it right? Connor had thought.

Her concern may have had more weight than he wanted to admit.

“Drop Zone A in 30.” M’gann warned, shaking him from his recollection.

That’s Aqualass up. He thought and he turned to Kaldura, who nodded and stood from her crash seat, the safety harness and seat all melting away from her into the floor as she stood. The sight made Connor shudder.

No offense to Ship, but that’s always gonna be weird to me.

Connor wasn’t entirely sure that Ship couldn’t read his mind. Well, if it normally could; he had brought insurance to make sure it, and nobody else, could read his mind unless he let them. Gizmo was currently ensconced in his backpack, huddled up in a nest of his t-shirts with a pile of snacks to keep him happy. The team wasn’t convinced they could trust the G-Gnome in the field, but Connor didn’t want to leave his ‘lil bro’ behind, nor did he want to go on a mission without his telepathic support. So he had stashed the genomorph in the backpack and demurred on the content to the team. They had mostly ignored it, implying that Gizmo was using his perception filter to make them ignore his presence. 

I’m relying on you, lil bro. I don’t want to keep M’gann out of my mind, so I need you to do what you did before. Let her in the foyer, so we can mindlink, but don’t let her read too deep. Still trying to keep the truth buried without seeming suspicious.

There was a silent telepathic assent from Gizmo, and a conveyed feeling of delight in the discovery of the wonder that were pork rinds. Connor grinned at Gizmo’s love of the salty treats, then quickly steeled his face to gritty commando neutrality.

Maybe I should have gone with the beret…

“Ready.” Kaldura said as she walked to the middle of the cockpit. 

“Putting Bio-Ship in camouflage mode.” M’gann replied as she did… something to one of the control orbs. Connor wasn’t sure if she typed anything, or if there were haptic controls, or what. He had initially assumed the orbs were for show and Bio-Ship just flew by telepathic command, but the more he watched M’gann at the controls, the more he was convinced she actually did do things manually. Through the viewport, a telltale shimmer went over the whole exterior of Ship, and he knew they were almost invisible from air, ground or sea.

As Ship swooped low over the waves, a hole opened up in the floor and Aqualass made a perfect standing dive through it. She knifed through the air and into the water, disappearing beneath the inky waves with nary a splash. There was little moonlight to reflect off the waves, and ahead of them loomed the mountainous jungle Isla Santa Prisca. It was little more than a darker blob on the horizon.

“Oh, ten points!” Walli said, holding up an imaginary scorecard, and Connor snorted.

Now they had to wait, even as they kept approaching the island. Aqualass’ task was to infiltrate by sea and disable anti-air defenses and sensor nets, so they could infiltrate the rest of the team at Drop Zone B inland, via air drop from Ship. But to do that, Aqualass needed to make sure none of Santa Prisca’s defenders would see them coming. As impossibly advanced as the Bio-Ship was, Martian biotechnology was apparently designed to counter their own sensor systems, not human ones. Camouflage mode was purely visual, for example, and did nothing to conceal Ship from radar.

Which meant a tense wait on board while they steadily approached Santa Prisca. They couldn’t loiter around the island out of range, waiting for Aqualass to signal success or failure. There was an even greater chance of being spotted that way. So they had to go simultaneously, and expect Aqualass would disable the sensors and AA before it became a problem. It seemed risky to Connor, but then he realized they were covertly invading a rogue narco-state, and everything was risky.

Good thing I’m bulletproof.

He hadn’t tested his invulnerability against anti-air missiles and he wasn’t eager to.

“So what’s in the bag?” Walli inquired from her seat next to his, peering at his burden.

“Uh…” Connor said, then reached into the bag and grabbed a crinkled foil pouch out of it to distract her.

“Snacks! Oh, I knew you were my favorite teammate!” Walli said as she snagged the half full bag of pork rinds and immediately began stuffing her face with them. Connor smiled weakly as he felt Gizmo’s telepathic displeasure at being robbed of his prize.

Relax, buddy! You can’t eat the whole bag anyway. You’d be like 95% pork products. 

His answer did little to mollify the genomorph. Connor wondered again where it all went; Gizmo only weighed ten pounds, but every time he couldn’t find him, it was inevitable he was in the kitchen devouring snacks or someone’s leftovers. He wasn’t getting fat, thankfully, but it was another mystery to him.

The only one more food motivated than Gizmo is Walli. He thought wryly as she quickly polished off the rest of the bag before brushing the crumbs and salt off her costume. 

Suddenly, the comm bead in his ear piped up with Aqualass’ voice.

“Radar, heat and motion sensors are patched. Data is now on a continuous loop. Move in.” The Atlantean relayed tersely. Her tactical tone only grew Connor’s excitement.

This is too fucking cool! Covert superhero ops! I should have worn a balaclava.

It hadn’t been well received by the team; he had no secret identity to protect, after all. That, and the idea of wearing a ski mask in a Caribbean jungle had seemed a poor combination. Still…

Should have stuck to my guns on the beret. I could have put the shield  on it!

Robin had declared it “Too military.” She did have a point there.

Drop Zone B team prepared themselves as M’gann took them swooping over the coast and beach of Santa Prisca and into the jungle foothills towards their destination. Even in the scant light of the nearly moonless summer night, Connor thought that Santa Prisca had a rugged beauty. But he knew the place had a dark reputation; this was no tropical tourist destination. 

Bad place to be from. Hellish, if you’re someone like Bane. Robin and Batwoman didn’t react much to the place, so it seems that either they don’t have a Bane here, or Knightfall never happened here. 

That brought a disquieting thought.

Or it hasn’t happened YET. What if this is where Bane and Bats kick off their feud?

He shuddered at the thought of Batwoman, a powerful presence he had to admit he feared, just a little, having her spine broken by a steroidal juggernaut like Bane.

Not everything I know from old comics has happened here, but some things have. Hard to know if what I have is future knowledge, or things that may never happen.

These thoughts had troubled him since Batwoman’s briefing. His only prior actions had been against Cadmus and the Terror Twins; the former he knew little of and this universes’ seemed too different to what he did know. The Terrors were total unknowns, probably D-listers beneath the notice of even dedicated comics fans, or ‘original creations’ for this world. But Santa Prisca was very familiar, as was Venom. And if they were investigating Venom, he just knew Bane would be involved.

If Bane shows his face, I’ll know this place runs on narrative causality. Cadmus was involving me, so of course we had a fight there. The Terror Twins robbing the mall while Walli and I were there? Suspicious coincidence. But if we go to Santa Prisca and the roided out psycho in the luchador mask is there, then I know that’s just how its gonna be. Then again, its not like we stopped by the capital to have cigars and rum. We’re looking into Venom production and trafficking, so we’re really kicking the Bane shaped hornet’s nest here.

Ship came to a halt in mid air and M’gann announced their destination.

“Drop Zone B.” She said simply, and they all stood, the crash seats melting into the floor again. Connor slipped on his backpack as Ship extended lines from the ceiling ending in S hooks, which Kid Quick and Robin snapped on to. M’gann gestured at the floor and a larger hole opened up and the scent of humid jungle wafted inside. Connor merely stepped up to the hole, a cocky grin on his face.

“Are you sure you don’t want a line?” Kid Quick asked, holding up a pink rappelling line to him.

“Nah, I’m good. I got this!” he replied, cinching the straps of his backpack and sending a telepathic probe to Gizmo to prepare for rough handling. The mental assent reassured him and he looked down at the drop zone.

It could barely be called a clearing, but it was a mostly open space in the jungle canopy so they didn’t go crashing through the overgrowth. M’gann levitated with her telekinesis out and next to the exit, having no need for a safety line. Robin finished clipping into her harness and stepped up with a hand raised.

“I really think you should-” She began, but was interrupted as Superboy simply hopped through the hole with a lightly shouted “Geronimooo!”

He dropped like a stone and the ground rushed up at him fast. For a moment, it was terrifying as his instincts told him he was about to be smashed like a bug on a windshield, but he relaxed his knees and hit the ground with a hollow boom that shook the trees and disturbed a flock of birds nesting in their branches for the night. The frightened avians flapped and squawked in alarm as the thunder of his crash landing echoed through the jungle, before the flock took off in another direction.

Superboy was frozen in the threepoint superhero landing he had gone for as his eyes darted around in worry. 

Shit, that was way louder than I thought it would be, he thought sheepishly as he rose from his crouch. Ms. Martian floated down from the unseen Ship overhead, while Robin and Kid Quick swiftly and quietly fast roped down to the ground.

“Making a seismic event doesn’t exactly scream ‘covert’!” Robin shouted as she landed, rounding on Superboy. He shrank from her admonishment, a hand on the back of his head.

“Sorry! Didn’t think it would be that loud.” He said, not meeting her reproachful glare. She scoffed and turned away.

Can’t believe I screwed that up. Why does that keep happening!? I’m not that heavy, I can’t be this dense! Literally and figuratively…

M’gann gave him a sympathetic look as she alighted on the ground before addressing her comm bead and informing Kaldura.

“Aqualass, drop B is go.” She reported, and the answer came instantly.

“Head for the factory. I’ll track your GPS and rendezvous ASAP.” Aqualass instructed over comms. 

Robin pulled up her holographic interface, checking their relative positions on GPS, and after a moment that Superboy noticed, Robin tersely replied “Roger that.”

With that she closed her map and led them deeper into the jungle.

He shared a look with Kid Quick and Ms. Martian, sighed, and followed Robin into the jungle.

********

“I’m just saying-” Robin began, again.

“You already said it. You said it earlier, and yesterday.” Superboy replied as they trudged through the jungle.

It was a steaming, misty night in the tropical foothills of Santa Prisca. Mud squelched underfoot, there was a scent of rain and jungle rot in the air, Impenetrable jungle stretched in all directions, and it seemed like their entire route was uphill. None of it bothered him; not the heat, humidity, or the difficult ground. His strength and stamina made everything a pleasant midnight stroll. M’gann was similarly blessed, literally above it all as she levitated above them, just under the canopy. Robin and Kid Quick found the going harder. Robin betrayed little fatigue, but Kid was huffing and puffing. She couldn’t use her speed without leaving the team behind, so Superboy saw her mounting frustration with their pace and the traversal. 

Robin’s persistent pestering didn’t help.

“We agreed to give it a week.” Superboy said flatly as they trudged on.

“But that was before we got put on a mission!” Robin objected, for the third time. The argument had turned circular a few miles ago. 

“And we didn’t come to a decision before we left. So we figure it out amongst ourselves, like Batwoman said.” Connor finished, pushing deadfall out of his way. 

As much as he admired his new friends for their capabilities and drive, he was now reflecting on the trouble of having two Type A personalities like Robin and Aqualass in the same team. They had drawn up their preferred by laws and organization, and had agreed to a simple majority vote for team leader in a week’s time, after the battle with Mr. Twister. That was still a few days off, but Robin had a point; that date had been set without knowing they would be called upon before it happened. Batwoman had asserted they could figure out leadership amongst themselves, which just cast the ball back in their court. They were on mission, still without the leadership contest decided.

And it was a contest. As soon as they drew up nomination rules, both Aqualass and Robin had thrown their proverbial hats in the ring. Superboy had briefly hoped as they all agreed on the by laws (mostly cribbed from typical NGO organizational documents and volunteer paramilitary force charters) that it would be unanimous. But both of his teammates had put themselves forward, and it had quickly deadlocked with him as tiebreaker. Kid Quick backed Robin, which only made sense since they were old friends. Ms. Martian had supported Aqualass, who took an early republican attitude and didn’t campaign but sat back quietly and let her competence speak for itself.

Robin, on the other hand, lobbied him continuously. Twice as hard when she saw Aqualass wasn’t ‘stooping’ to it. He loathed being the tiebreaker. He didn’t want to offend either party, and he could see they were both more than competent enough for it. But he genuinely didn’t know who would be ‘better’ in the role. Aqualass took the whole thing with her characteristic serenity, but Robin was itching for it.

I wonder if its the whole ‘stepping out of Batwoman’s shadow’ thing, or what. If this world reflects the comics, then her break with the Bat and becoming Nightwing isn’t far off. Maybe this is the first step?

He wasn’t sure how that made him feel. ‘Knowing’ what would happen felt like a curse again. Everything was too different, and applying his foreknowledge to real people and their lives felt obscene. But intellectually he knew that foresight and time travel were real things here. When applied to himself and his friends though, he quailed at trying to steer their lives just as much as he feared letting things take their ‘natural’ course.

“Then let’s figure it out.” Robin spat out, frustrated with the conversation again, when Superboy brought up a hand to stop them.

“Do you hear that?” He asked, rhetorically he realized on reflection.

“Uh, no? Wait, is this a super hearing thing?” Kid Quick asked, stopping and turning back to him.

Superboy slowly nodded, closing his eyes and focusing on his super hearing, tracking the pings of sound waves back to their source. Boots crunching through the under growth, metal softly clinking against metal as canvas strained, the heartbeats and breaths of a dozen people. A group, marching through the jungle ahead of them, perpendicular to their course. Quickly, he informed the team. As he focused, he heard Ms. Martian breathed out a few words that no one else was intended to hear.

“You do have great ears…”

His face began to heat up  but he ignored it, and her comment, even though it thrilled him. He opened his eyes and saw Kid looking at him, and she nodded.

“Okay, Robi, now what?” She said as she turned back to where Robin had been a moment ago when Superboy had closed his eyes. 

There was only empty space, and Kid threw up her hands in frustration. 

“Woman! I hate when she does that…” She said, when Aqualass took charge, even distantly.

“Superboy, Kid, switch to infrared. See if you’re being tracked.” She said, sounding a little out of breath, like she was running.

Superboy and Kid Quick nodded to each other, and she zipped off in a dark blur as she adjusted her goggles to bring up her alternate vision modes. He had been surprised at everything that was packed into her and the others’ suits. It made him want one for himself, but besides the solar suit, there was little most of it could offer him and still stand up to the rigors of combat with his power levels. For his part, Superboy spotted a likely tree and leapt into its branches to get a higher vantage point.

Once in his perch, he focused on his supervision. It was much harder to utilize than super hearing for this kind of work. Super hearing was simple; he heard better and at greater ranges, and was able to use echo location to track sounds back to their source. Telescopic vision was similarly easy; just focus on a target hard enough and he would zoom in. It had taken him days to realize that the splotches of glowing light on some things that shed no actual light, were actually heat blooms he was seeing. Separating his vision into the infrared and visual spectrum was a challenging task, but he had been practicing.

But when he did, the world became awash in techno colors as he saw the heat sources in infrared. People came back red and yellow at the core, cooling to green and blue at their extremities. 

This time, the practice paid off. He saw the targets he had been hearing already; a dozen people in military surplus kit, bearing assault rifles. There was someone larger at the back, but they were directing the others. He wasn’t sure how big, but they seemed to dwarf the regular humans around them. Tapping the comm bead, he informed the team, trying to remember the intricacies of proper radio discipline that Robin had tried drilling into him.

“Dozen tangoes spotted, armed. North us, crossing perpendicularly.” He said hurriedly, hoping that it was right.

“Got a second squad of armed bozos, incoming.” Kid informed them over the radio, dropping a ping on their maps to show the other squad. Belatedly, Superboy did the same, awkwardly on his phone. This was a secure Guild model, not his Eye-Phone, and it updated everyone’s maps with the location.

“Looks like they’ll run into each other before they find us.” Kid remarked, and it did seem likely.

Something about that deeply disquieted Superboy, and he slung his bag onto a convenient branch with a mental reassurance to Gizmo.

Don’t need you catching any strays, lil bro. You stay here. He commanded, and then hopped back to the ground after bleeding momentum sliding down the trunk. 

The two squads were still heading directly towards each other, following some path in the forest. 

But why would two patrols from the same side wander into each other? That seems like poor-

The rattle of automatic gunfire, echoing through the forest, alerts him and the rest of the team. The three of them huddle together, behind a sturdy trunk, even though Superboy reflects that he is the most bullet-proof thing in this jungle.

“Swing wide, steer clear!” Comes Aqualass’ order over the comms, and its clear she’s hurrying from wherever she is. 

“Right, but what about Robin?” Kid asks worriedly, glancing around again in search of her friend.

“I’ll take a look.” Connor says, and leaps back into the trees. But tree limbs aren't like building roofs, and as he alights on a high branch, suddenly it snaps under the weight of his impact and he just as suddenly finds himself falling back to Earth. He desperately reaches out for branches or hand holds but can’t snag anything before he hits the dirt, and discovers himself landing hard in a run off trail. The trail is lubricated by moist mud, and he almost succeeds in catching himself. 

But then the muddy ground slips out from underneath him and he goes tumbling down the incline. Superboy covers his head as he goes rolling down towards the hostiles, a headlong trip that ends with him ass over tea kettle at the foot of the incline, and suddenly he sees a dozen gun barrels pointed at him.

And a familiar black and white mask looming over them…

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