Adventures of Superguy

July 22, 2010 - Isla Santa Prisca

Caribbean Sea

22:05:08

Pain exploded across his body, like he was bathed in fire, and he screamed as it did. Shoving Bane aside, he fell to all fours as the agony burned across his skin. But just as swiftly as it came, it was gone, leaving him gasping for breath with the phantom echo of it. His hands roamed across his body, remembering the feeling of flames licking across his skin, but there were neither flames nor burns now. Nor even pain, only the memory of it.

He reached for the psychic communion of the mindlink, but it was gone, its absence like the cavity of a tooth that had been extracted. He could feel its absence only, now. Then the familiar psychic gravity of Gizmo’s mindlink reasserted itself, and his breathing calmed. The phantom pain vanished as well, and desperately he reached out for answers.

What was that? What happened? He begged of Gizmo, but the genomorph only shared confused images and impressions. Superboy realized they were confused because they weren’t Gizmo’s, but Ms. Martian’s. He saw through her eyes and senses as she spied on Sportsmaster and Kobra’s meeting, some kind of exchange, and then the swift quickdraw and throw from the villainous athlete. A black javelin hurtling at Ms. Martian, even as she dodged with her telekinetic flight; then a sudden blossom of flame, heat and pain, and the mindlink went dead.

Cold dread filled him, and anxious questions. Sportsmaster had spotted Ms. Martian somehow, and disabled her. Or worse… was she alive? What about the team? With the jamming up and the mindlink down, he had no way of contacting the others. No clue as to what was happening outside, while he had been dallying with Bane!

Damn it! He cursed to himself, and sprang to his feet. Bane was rising to her own; in his panicked reaction, he had thrown her across the room. She didn’t look hurt, though, just angrily confused by his outburst. Guilt flashed through him, before he remembered who she was, and what her ‘distraction’ might have caused him to miss. A new heat rose in him, and he snapped at her.

“Come on! They found the others, we have to get out there!” He said, and headed for the door. 

At this point, I don’t care what she does! The team’s in danger…

Sprinting down the corridor, he heard her follow after him, muttering to herself in Spanish but he didn’t bother to follow it, too concerned with the team. Gizmo was also projecting to him, trying to tell him something in the strangely intuitive telepathy by which he communicated, but Superboy had bigger concerns. 

He already heard the gunfire and shouting from the factory floor, and he made a beeline for it, his fists balling as he went. The others were in danger, Ms. Martian was hurt or worse, and he had been distracted. The heat in him only rose in temperature and area, his face burning with it.

Superboy burst through the double doors that led onto the factory floor and bedlam greeted him. Kobra cultists were everywhere, inside and outside, firing their rifles and rounds were ricocheting off concrete walls and steel machinery, raising a terrible din. He could see Aqulass taking shelter by one of the chemical tanks inside, forming shields of water with her hilts and firing globules of water back that sent cultists flying with each impact. A dark blur sprinted across the crowded battlefield, and wherever it passed, cultists suddenly found themselves disarmed and clutching at air. Others were knocked flying like rag dolls when Kid Quick made a drive by punch or kick, but they were everywhere and she constantly had to abort attacks to dodge automatic gunfire. There was no sign of Ms. Martian or Robin.

Seeing Aqualass pinned down, he gathered himself into a mighty leap towards the closest knot of her attackers and slammed down like a meteor, sending the shooters scattering. He seized one by an ankle and swung her like a wrecking ball to knock the others flying before releasing her at the apex of the swing to send her crashing into a stack of crates. That lowered the suppressive fire on Aqualass long enough for her to duck behind cover and he swiftly joined her.

“Where’s M’gann!?” He shouted.

“By the entrance! Sportsmaster hit her with an explosive javelin. I don’t know how she spotted her. We need to regroup-” Aqualasss tried to instruct him, but with another powered leap he was away, heading for the massive sliding door entrance of the factory. Cultists tracked his flight and fired away at him but he ignored the bullets that spattered off of him, desperately looking for Ms. Martian. There was a tangle of piping and machinery over that way, and he couldn’t see her at all.

Landing amongst the industrial maze, he called out for her, but received no reply. A pair of Kobra cultists came around a bend, raising rifles as they did, but he hit them at a dead sprint and simply lowered his shoulders. They went flying like nine pins, and he continued his desperate search. Somewhere behind him, he heard the discharge of more water bullets from Aqualass and guilt stung him for running off on her. But M’gann was down, and she took priority.

He pushed forward, shoving a stack of crates out of the way like they were empty cardboard boxes, and saw a crater where something had exploded. There were scorchmarks on the ground, fresh ones. Superboy’s heart seized in fear, and he looked around for blood. He didn’t see any, but his fear returned when he realized he had no idea what Martian blood looked like. Straining his super hearing, he tried to listen for the telltale murmur of her alien heartbeat, but with the fear undermining his concentration and the echoing gunfire, he couldn’t pick it out. Snarling in frustration, he put his boot through a storage tank, the metal tearing like wet cardboard.

Breathing deeply, he tried to focus, tried to think of how he could find her in this chaos and mess. The reassuring psychic weight of his little brother reassured him, and then his eyes snapped wide. 

I’m a fucking idiot! I have a psychic still! Gizmo, you gotta find M’gann! She’s out here, maybe hurt. You gotta find her! Just show me where! He desperately pleaded.

He felt Gizmo’s sympathy; the genomorph liked M’gann. Or her cooking, at least. He seemed ambivalent about most of the others. But he knew her psychic scent, and he tracked it like a bloodhound. Superboy laughed hysterically with relief, and followed the trail Gizmo left for him. Then he found her.

Ms. Maritan was prone, lying on her back, scorch marks across her biotech costume. She wasn’t bleeding that he could see, and he could hear her heartbeat now that he was close enough. She was alive, but unconscious. Superboy rushed to her, checking her for wounds, but little seemed to have penetrated her costume or flesh. Gently, he reached down and scooped her up in his arms, and she groaned as he did so. Her eyelids fluttered, and as her eyes opened he nearly sagged with relief. His baby blues met her golden amber irises, but they had black sclera for some reason. For a moment he was confused, but she shook her head and her eyes focused on him, and once again they were the familiar amber on white.

“Are you okay?” He asked tremulously.

“I’m… okay. The others?” She replied, rubbing her head. His heart lifted at seeing she actually was okay.

“Kid’s running interference, Aqualass is pinned down, I dunno where Robin is. We gotta regroup.” Superboy answered her, turning back the way he came and preparing to leap. But Ms. Martian floated out of his arms to his surprise, and her eyes flashed green as he felt the mindlink reassert itself.

Ms. Martian: Everyone online?

Seeing she was up and active, he completed his jump which brought him into the open. Many cultists turned their guns on him uselessly, and he kicked a crate towards a clump of them, sending them and their guns flying.

Superboy: Oh, yeah.

Kid Quick: You know it, Ms. M!

Aqualass: Good. We need to regroup.

Robin: Busy now!

Superboy rolled his eyes, and plowed into another group of Kobra cultists. Beating one goon with another proved a deeply satisfying and effective tactic, and they were quickly dispatched. But they were everywhere, so he kept heading toward Aqualass. Ms. Martian engaged her camouflage as she flew overhead, so nobody shot at her. That suited him just fine, so he continued to make an obvious target of himself to draw fire.

Arriving at the Atlantean’s position, he saw a trio of cultists flank her at the same time, guns coming up to shoot. He threw himself in front of her, spreading his arms to cover her as much as possible as bullets flashed towards them. The impacts stung less and less, and he briefly wondered in the midst of this chaos, if he was only flinching at the impacts because he thought being shot was supposed to hurt. Thankfully, he didn’t have long to consider that as Kid arrived in a flying dropkick that sent the shooters flying. Ms. Martian alighted and shed her camouflage as she did so.

Looking around and finding no Girl Wonder, he asked the obvious question.

“Where’s Rob-”

“Right here.” Came the answer before the question finished leaving his mouth. 

Robin leapt down from the top of the tank they were sheltering behind, making a perfect landing that would have impressed even Russian Olympic judges.

Aqualass wasn’t disconcerted at all by Robin’s arrival, but quickly sought to ascertain what had delayed her.

“Where were you?” She demanded.

“Making sure Sportsmaster doesn’t run off with the goods.” Robin answered, and pulled a fistful of something out of her utility belt; a handful of spark plugs.

Okay… that’s good thinking. Could still stand to have better coordination, but good thinking.

There came a fusillade of fire from the cultists that made everyone duck further behind cover. Superboy included, until he remembered his entirely bulletproof nature, and chided himself. 

Gonna have to train myself to not flinch. 

“Acceptable use of your time.” Aqualass evaluated swiftly, and Robin soured. “But we need a unified plan of attack-”

“Nobody elected you leader!” Robin exploded, even as bullets rained down around them.

Kid and Ms. Martian looked aghast at the confrontation as Robin glared at Aqualass, who even in this stressful situation remained as calm as a placid lake. Frustrated with the situation, Superboy decided to end it here and now.

“I call for a leadership vote! I nominate Aqualass. All for, say aye!” He shouted over the din of battle. The entire team looked at him in shock.

Ms. Martian recovered first.

“Aye!”

Superboy turned to Kid nearly as swiftly as she could. She opened her mouth to object, but then looked around at the situation and rolled her eyes and shoulders.

“...Aye.”

Robin glared at her in surprise, but everyone’s eyes turned to her next. Superboy could see the war of pride and duty on her face as she grappled with the sudden decision. But she swallowed her pride in the end.

“Aye.”

Superboy breathed a sigh of relief that seemed totally at odds with the bullets flying around them. He flicked his gaze to Aqualass, who gave a perfunctory “Aye.”

“The ayes have it, congratulations to Kaldura. Now let’s fucking do something already!” He shouted, turning as he saw a squad of cultists try to flank them. Tearing a sheet of steel off a broken tank near them, he interposed it as a shield and it quickly became dented with innumerable bullet impacts. WIth the constant gunfire, it became near impossible to hear each other, so they returned to the mindlink.

Aqualass: The first priority is preventing that shipment from leaving the island. Robin’s sabotage has bought us time, but the Kobra Venom must not leave. Superboy and Ms. Martian, you must secure the chopper and deal with Sportsmaster.

Ms. Martian: On it!

Superboy: I’ve got her handled.

Aqualass: Robin, you go after Kobra. We need to know who set all this up. Sportsmaster doesn’t have the pull to acquire Blockbuster on her own.

Robin: Done.

Aqualass: Kid, you and I will deal with the cultists. 

Kid Quick: Rightio.

“Go!” Kaldura shouted, her shout spurring them all into motion. 

Superboy grinned and plowed forward with his makeshift shield at the cultists who had been riddling it with bullets. They shouted in fear and turned to run, but not before he slammed into them and sent them flying. Tossing aside the now useless sheet metal, he didn’t even look for Ms. Martian, as she kept to her camouflage and telepathically pinged her location to him. He knew she was flying just overhead, what space she occupied, even if he couldn’t actually see her except for a shimmer in the air. Superboy charged ahead, ignoring gunfire and the cultists shooting unless they were in his way enough to deal with them.

Several times, Kid’s blurred form took out the shooters ahead of him just as they turned to fire on him, and he grinned at her excellent timing. Behind him, he heard the crack of water whips and the crackle of Aqualass electrical blasts. Then he was out of the factory and breaking free of the cordon of cultists. He saw the chopper dead ahead, and the tattooed ginger girl working on the engine cowling. 

Ah, that’s no good.

He leapt into the air to clear the remaining distance crashing back to ground before the chopper. Its rear loading ramp was down and he could see that the cargo bay was stacked with pallets of Kobra Venom. That also wasn’t good. The girl with the serpent tattoo saw him and leaped off the top of the chopper in a graceful backflip, making an elegant three point landing behind him. She rose into a ready stance, apparently ready to fight him. Superboy smirked at her.

“No offense, lady, but you’re REALLY not in my weight class.” He said, jerking a thumb at the S shield on his shirt.

“We’ll see about that, cunt.” She replied in a surpsingly saucy Australian accent.

Her self assurance and goth makeup made him pause for a moment in distraction. Mentally he scrambled, trying to place her. The tattoo seemed like it would be memorable, but her confidence screamed that she was some kind of coiled serpent in the tall grass. It actually made him doubt his own abilities for a second. 

Dang, what does she have up her sleeve? She can’t just be a badass normal if she’s not even a little afraid of me, right? Man, this is way easier when I know who I’m dealing with or they make it real obvious.

“Well, that’s not very nice. And who are you supposed to be?” He asked, even as he felt Ms. Martian’s position shift to behind the ginger snake cultist.

“Lord Kobra dubbed me Shimmer.” She replied, seemingly content to waste time as he let her talk and allowed Ms. Martian to get into position. He could feel M’gann’s intent through the mindlink. 

Ms. Martian: Just keep her distracted…

Superboy: Can do.

“So what do you do, ‘Shimmer’? Turn invisible, shoot exploding sparkles out of your hands?” Superboy quipped even as he racked his brains. Shimmer did sound familiar, distantly, but he couldn’t place her.

“Mostly I keep dumb cunts like you occupied till Baran punts you across the world.” She answered confidently, still not moving from her spot and still smiling confidently.

“Who the hell is Bar-” was all he said before a foot the size of a garbage can booted him across the marshalling yard with a massive impact. He went tumbling across the yard and smashed into a tree on the edge, and slowly he got back to his feet. Rumbles of thunder he was hearing proved to be the massive footsteps of the figure he had seen in his Ms. Martian’s vision before the mindlink had dropped. The mammoth man with bestial features and the tell tale overloaded stretch marks that marked him as a recipient of Blockbuster, or in this case, Kobra Venom.

The hulking giant snorted from his pug nose as he advanced, and cracked his massive knuckles. Then he spoke in a deep rumble that still somehow retained a familiar Australian accent.

“Baran’d be me, mate.” He said, his yellowed incisors flashing as he spoke.

Seeing him this close, he had to be at least 7’ tall, and must have weighed double what Superboy did. 

“Well, aren’t you a mammoth motherfucker.” Superboy said as he put his fists up.

His opponent’s only reply was a savage grin that showed off all his bestial yellowed teeth.

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