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Part 5 – Nanowrimo Freedom Squad

Chapter 5

The next morning, Rigel was in the Monitor Room reviewing as many files as she could. Starlight stood quietly behind her, observing.

“May I be of assistance in some manner?” he asked.

“Do you know anything about magic or the Death Queen?”

“Yes, the Death Queen is the code name used by the super-villainess Monica Black, a reputed necromancer with the ability to animate and control the dead. Most notably, she was involved in yesterday’s prison break when a guard suffered a heart attack in the vicinity of her cell. Before a medical response team could reach him, she is believed to have used magic to reanimate him. As for the nature of magic, I believe that it involves quantum and extra-dimensional events which remain inexplicable to your species. Quantum fluxes do cause issues with my systems however.”

“Not bad, Starlight. You already seem to be better than your predecessor. Death Queen made sure that a powerful villain known as Golem broke free, and then, she released Defiance. Once he was free, everything went crazy.”

“I am aware,” he said coldly, or rather flatly. There was no emotion in his voice. He was rather like some Hollywood robot.

“Well done, Starlight.”

“Thank you, Rigel. Would you prefer for me to call you Cori in the base?”

Cori looked over at him, seeing that strange mask and feeling strange inside. It was more than the featureless mask that bothered her. It was his thoughts. She couldn’t read them. He was something unknown, something that she couldn’t explain. He wasn’t human.

“Am I bothering you, Rigel?” he asked in his flat tones.

She wasn’t even sure how Starlight talked.

“How familiar are you with human behavior?” she asked.

“I require more data,” Starlight said.

“You might want to watch some television, and you probably should call me Rigel.“

“Excellent suggestion. Thank you, Rigel. How is your query proceeding?” he asked.

“I’m not finding anything significant on Psionicist.”  She sighed. Dossiers on Psionicist showed on multiple screens. No family, no identity, no information on his powers except for media reports and nothing to help her. Even HeroNet had nothing of value, and they always had information on heroes.

“Nothing,” she repeated.

“That in itself may be a worthwhile observation. I will now watch some television.”

Cori paused and considered Starlight’s statement. She looked back over Psionicist’s information. There was nothing significant, but he was currently in a coma in a hospital in New York. He might not be conscious, but perhaps she could reach him.

She picked up her communicator, even as she looked over some information on the jailbreak. “Protector? Are you available for monitor duty?”

“Yes, Rigel, of course, but what are we doing about the tryouts?”

“Oh, they are delayed for a day or two. We need to track down some of these villains who escaped. Listen, I’d like you on monitor duty if you don’t mind. I trust you, and I think you’d be a good choice to watch and coordinate everything. I have some investigating to do.”

“You shouldn’t go alone.”

“True. I’ll take Nightstar with me,” she said.

Less than an hour later, she and Nightstar had flown from Megalopolis to New York via Freedom Flyer and were answering questions from hospital security.

Nightstar adjusted his mirrorshades as they exited the Freedom Flyer into a bright New York City morning. “So, let me get this straight one last time, you got flight authority into New York pushed through because you think that Psionicist can give us some insight into capturing Defiance.”

“That’s right,” she said, trying not to look amused.

Hospital security approached.

“Look, I think I know what you are going to do, Cori, and I’m not sure about it,” Nightstar whispered.

She looked at him, feeling strangely close to him, and noticing those shoulders of his beneath his black bodysuit.  “Please trust me,” she whispered back.

He nodded and looked over at the hospital security personnel in their dark blue uniforms.

“G’day,” said Rigel, stepping forward and extending her gloved hand. “We’re from Freedom Squad.”

“Why do you wish to see Psionicist?” asked the man in front, who seemed to be the head of security.

“Defiance, the man who put him into this hospital, escaped yesterday,” said Rigel.

The man cleared his throat and looked over at Nightstar for validation.

“Yes,” said Nightstar shuffling with slight discomfort, “like Rigel, the team leader of Freedom Squad, the new one in Megalopolis, just said, it has to do with Defiance. The exact reasoning is classified.”

“Understood, Nightstar, sir,” the man said.

Cori rolled her eyes. “Thank you for clarifying my statement, Nightstar.”

The hospital seemed like any other hospital, other than the extra security guards and a number of cameras. Rigel couldn’t help but notice the number of cameras. “This would be perfect for someone like an Ace of Spades.”

The smell of rubbing alcohol and cleaning supplies filled the air. Loudspeakers made announcements and nurses quietly discussed their charges. As Rigel and Nightstar walked through the halls behind the head of security, conversations stopped and everyone grew quiet.

“Hello, everyone,” said Nightstar, “Don’t mind us, we are just here to pay our respects to a fallen hero.”

Cori hoped that no one would ask Nightstar for his autograph.

The guards in front of Psionicist’s door checked their badges. Fingerprints and retina scans were checked before they were allowed to enter.

A thin pale man lay in a hospital bed hooked up to monitors with a feeding tube. There was a nurse in the room, a man who looked like a backup linebacker for the New York Giants. “Nightstar?” he said. “It’s an honor.”

The nurse came over, “I’m Gabe Lincoln. My kids won’t believe this.” He offered his hand, and Nightstar took it.

“Good to meet you,” said Nightstar. “How’s Psionicist?”

Gabe shrugged and looked over at the man in the bed. He went over and adjusted the sheet.  “He doesn’t change. You know that they don’t even know who he is.”

Rigel swallowed. “I know.”

“Yeah,” said Gabe, “This has to do with Defiance escaping, doesn’t it? He did this to Psionicist.”

“Mr. Lincoln, could we have some time alone with Psionicist?”

“Sorry, I stay, short of getting an order from the President. It’s for medical reasons.”

Rigel nodded. “I’m going to try and help him.”

Gabe Lincoln raised his right eyebrow. “What? Are you some kind of mutant healer?”

“No,” answered Rigel, “I’m a telepath. I’m going to try and talk to him. He has mental powers, like me. I can’t imagine being like that. And if he can help me apprehend Defiance, then all the better.”

“Whoa,” said Gabe. “I’m not sure.”

Nightstar stepped over to the foot of the bed, with Rigel on one side and Gabe on the other. “Watch his monitors. This is the best hope he has. Trust me. She saved me with her telepathy one time.”

Gabe paused, but there was something about Nightstar that convinced him. “Ma’am?”

“Yes?” said Rigel.

“Good luck.”

She smiled. “You just make sure that I don’t hurt him.”

Rigel closed her eyes and reached out with her thoughts. She could “see” the room without her eyes, from the glowing mind of Gabe Lincoln, to the bright shining light of Nightstar shrouded by faint wisps of the darkness imprisoned inside him, to the faint glow of the man lying on the bed.

She felt as if she flew into Psionicist’s soul.

His mind was shattered. She envisioned it as a ruined city, dark and twisted beams of metal stretching for her, broken glass scattered over shattered pavement and everywhere, dark smoke rising into the air. She flew through the ruins, searching for light and truth, trying to find him.

“Psionicist, my name is Rigel. I’ve come to help you. Are you here?” she thought.

She heard a faint weeping sound. She willed herself to fly toward the sound, uncertain of what she might discover – a shattered and incomplete individual, a fragment of a dream, a subconscious remnant of his youth? Whatever it was, she hoped that she could help him.

She saw him, sitting at an intersection, huddled in a woven blanket. She landed in front of him.


“No,” the man cried, “no, no, no, no, never.”

He looked up at her with wide eyes. He was a thin man, Hispanic perhaps, in his early forties. Although she could understand his thoughts, she knew that they weren’t in English. He was angry and scared.

“Who are you?” she asked, not coming too close to him.

“Carlos Jorge Hernandez Ruiz.”

She knelt down within arm’s length of him. “What do you know about Psionicist?”

“He is a nightmare that I have, a nightmare that I can’t escape. He took over my life.” He reached out toward her with shaking hands. “Are you real? Can you take me home?”

She took his hand. “You’ve been hurt. Please tell me what you know about Psionicist.”

“I was trapped here. He controlled me. He spoke with my body. He saw with my eyes. He is there.”

Carlos pointed to a dark smoke-filled alley next to what appeared to be a burned church.

“He is there!”

Rigel put a hand on his shoulder. As reassuringly as she could, she said, “I’ll go over there. I’ll find him.”

“Are you an angel?”

“No,” she said, “I’m a superhero.”

She stood up and walked over to the alley. Something about it frightened her. Her stomach twisted, and she felt her pulse beat in her neck. She took a few yoga breaths to calm herself, breathing in through the nose and out through the nose. She reminded herself that nothing she saw was real, just telepathic images. While Carlos might be afraid, she had no need to worry.

She stepped into the alley. “I’m Rigel of Freedom Squad,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “Come out.”

A strange sound echoed in the alley. It was a sound she didn’t recognize, a sound like a fan, but lighter and sharper, like pages in a book being turned slowly.

“I am Psionicist,” came a voice.

Rigel folded her arms across her chest and tapped her right foot. “No, I don’t think so. Prove it.” She reached out as best she could with her telepathy, trying to look beyond the scene that she found herself in, trying to look deeper.

“There’s a letter for you. Not for Carlos, but for you,” said the voice.

A sudden chill came over her, and she shuddered involuntarily. An envelope rested at her feet. She bent down to pick it up, and as she did, the sound became louder. She ripped it open and reached inside.

Everything around her had a dreamlike quality to it. She had entered a dark smoke-filled alley, but there was light and no smoke. She drew the contents of the envelope out with two fingers. It was a playing card.

The Ace of Spades.

“Now, we are going to find out how powerful of a telepath you really are,” said the voice, and this time, it came from inside her head.

“The Ace of Spades doesn’t exist,” she said.

“You don’t believe that,” the voice replied, “you know I exist. That’s why you are here.”

“Carlos isn’t Psionicist. You set him up. You set up Defiance.”

The entire world was spinning around her. Shapes were losing their form. It was as if she were caught in the eye of a tornado, complete with howling winds. She felt as if she were being swept away from Kansas, and somehow, she knew that what was happening was far worse than that.

She was being swept away from her own mind.

“It doesn’t matter,” replied the voice, the voice that she knew came from the Ace of Spades, “because you are staying here with Carlos. I left a little surprise for lesser minds that might meddle. This, I’m afraid, is a trap built for someone like you. You made a psychic connection, and those work both ways.”

Rigel felt her heart pounding. “There’s one mistake you’ve made, Ace or whatever little mental construct that the Ace left for me.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m part of a team,” she said. With every fiber of her being, she thought, “Nightstar!”

However, she didn’t know if Nightstar could hear her. There was someone closer. “Carlos!” she shouted. “Help me fight your enemy. I’ve found him. Carlos, if you can, he’s here.”

“No, he can’t be defeated,” replied Carlos.

“Yes, he can! Carlos, I need you to try,” shouted Rigel. “Nightstar! I need you!”

She hoped that Nightstar could strike her with his psychic blade, knowing that if he broke her telepathic connection to Carlos, she’d be safe. But, if Carlos could help her…

“I am here,” announced Carlos. The huddled scared man was standing tall beside her.

“Thank you,” she said. “Listen, this is your mind. I don’t care who or what the Ace of Spades is. This is your mind. I need you to drive him out.”

“But how, I don’t have the strength. He controlled me, made me pretend to be Psionicist.”

“I understand,” she said, “but I will give you strength. Take my hand and wish with all your heart, with every fiber of your being that the Ace of Spades is gone and that you want to wake up.”


“Carlos,” said Rigel, screaming to be heard over the maelstrom surrounding them, “I need you to do this. I need you to believe.”

“For you, my superhero, I will do my best.”

The howling of the whirlwind stopped, as did the other noise, which Cori now recognized as the sound of a flipping playing card just on a grand scale.

“You can’t win. Carlos cannot defeat me.”

Rigel squeezed Carlos’ hand. “Yes, he can,” she said, and with that, she focused her energies through him. “Drive him out Carlos. Take back your mind.”

“YES!” yelled Carlos.

The ruined city shattered in a burst of light. The playing card in Rigel’s hand caught fire. She caught her breath.

“You did it. I’ll see you when you wake up.”

With that, the world faded. Rigel glimpsed a hospital room as she lost her balance and nearly her consciousness. She waited for the impact on the floor, but instead, she felt Nightstar’s strong arms around her.

“I’ve got her,” Nightstar said.

“Superhero…” said a weak rasping voice from the hospital bed.

“He’s awake,” shouted Gabe. “She did it.”

“Rigel, are you okay?” asked Nightstar.

As she thought about the Ace of Spades, she shook her head no.

“What is it?” he asked, sounding concerned.

Her mouth felt dry. She heard Gabe open the door and shout for assistance. Carlos was mumbling on the bed.

“That man isn’t Psionicist. We need to get back to Freedom Squad before….”

“Before what?”

She swallowed and telepathically answered Nightstar, not wanting to speak. “Before the Ace of Spades finds out what we’ve done.”

Day 4 Nanowrimo – Freedom Squad (a little late)

Chapter 4

Daniel Hunter was awake when Cori’s call reached him. “Hello, Cori,” he said.

“Are you on an encrypted line?” she asked.

“Do superheroes have any unencrypted lines?” he replied with a chuckle.

“True. Okay, what do you know about Defiance?” she asked. Cori felt a twisting worry in her stomach. She paced around her room, walking back and forth at the end of her bed. As much as she tried to reassure herself that Daniel was a technical genius and a former superhero, all she could think was that he was over forty and a normal human. “You should probably be wearing one of your Poltergeist suits.”

“I’m fine, Cori, and I’m not worried. You should do some of your yoga. It’ll help relax you.”

“I’m ignoring the yoga suggestion for now. Seriously, Homeland Security warned me that Defiance might go after you.”

“If he does, I’ll let you know. Listen, Cori, I knew Bill, I mean Defiance. He was a good hero, a little hot-headed, but he was a good hero.”

Cori paused. Her father had always said that Daniel Hunter was an excellent judge of character. There was also something strange in Daniel’s tone, almost melancholy.

“Daniel, what happened to Defiance?”

It was Daniel’s turn to pause. Cori wished that she had the video-conferencing feature activated. She wanted to see Daniel’s expression.

“He made a terrible mistake. He attacked a group of cosplayers, and he couldn’t accept what had happened. I suspect Psionicist tried to use some type of mind control on him, and Bill didn’t take it well. In the end, he surrendered. He just knelt over Psionicist’s body mumbling the same thing over and over.”

“What was he saying?”

Daniel sighed. “He kept saying, ‘He was the Ace of Spades,” like it was a mantra. I think he was trying to convince himself. I had to do it.”

“Daniel, who is the Ace of Spades?”

Daniel cleared his throat and forced a sad chuckle. “Cori, there is no Ace of Spades. There’s no such thing. He’s a myth, a fairy tale, a story that criminals tell to scare each other. When things go wrong, crime lords blame the Ace of Spades. He’s solo operatives, like the hero Argent, or other criminal organizations who disrupt plans and cause issues that criminal organizations don’t anticipate. He’s a bogeyman that master criminals blame for their own failings.”

“Wait,” said Cori, “I thought he was a criminal, not a hero. Why would he be something that criminals would be concerned with? And what is the myth that criminals like to tell each other? Who do they believe he is?”

Cori kept thinking about Agent King. Stacy believed in the Ace of Spades. She had wanted Rigel to know that she believed in the Ace of Spades.

Cori reminded herself that she needed to get used to thinking of herself as Rigel and not mentally refer to herself in the third person.

“Slow down, Cori. First, if he existed, which he doesn’t, he is definitely supposed to be a criminal. Criminals fear competition more than they fear heroes. Most of us obey laws – villains don’t. As far as the myth, it can be convoluted, but generally, he’s supposed to be a genius, usually a hacker and/or engineer who either was arrested as a youth or forcibly recruited by a major criminal organization, something like Dr. Inferno’s cults. As the story goes, he learned everything he could from the criminals he associated with until he was ready to break out on his own. He then used his abilities to steal, scavenge, salvage and take over operations built by other criminals. He’s reputedly untraceable, a phantom, a nearly virtual entity with resources now on the scale of a major corporation or small country. Think of him as a ‘shadow government’ or other conspiracy theory organization in the form of a single individual.”

“Someone like that would be incredibly dangerous,” she said.

“That’s true, except for one thing,” said Daniel.

“What?” asked Cori.

“He doesn’t exist,” stated Daniel.

“Right. I know. I’m just trying to understand what Defiance might be thinking and what he might do,” she said. She didn’t like lying to Daniel, but if the Ace of Spades did exist, he might be able to monitor her communicator or Daniel’s line, even if it had been encrypted by Poltergeist.

She glanced around her room, noting the various security cameras and thinking about the number of security scanners that ran throughout Freedom Squad Headquarters. What if someone could use them to watch her?

“Daniel, could we get together for lunch sometime? I miss you. We could even meet somewhere as Poltergeist and Rigel.”

“Sure,” he said, “but no costumes. I’m retired. Send something to my scheduler.”

“Will do. Thanks, Daniel.”

“Cori, one last thing,” he said, “be careful.”

“No worries,” she said with a smile that she didn’t feel. “Bye, Daniel.’

“Bye, Cori.”

She sat down on her bed, debating about whether to mentally command her costume to shift into something more relaxing. Her head still hurt.

“Off,” she said aloud, letting the costume flow off of her. She needed to sleep.

She climbed into bed, lay down on her pillow and closed her eyes. As she drifted off, she imagined that somewhere the Ace of Spades might be real and be watching.  As she cautioned herself not to be paranoid, she slipped into a restless sleep.

Nanowrimo Day 1 – Freedom Squad

So, here’s my first day’s effort at Nanowrimo. It’s just a touch over what you should average a day to finish on time. However, I tend to start slowly in the month and as I get to know the characters and the plot becomes clearer in my head, the writing accelerates.

This is a sequel to an as yet unpublished story originally slated for HeroNet Files Vol. 1, but now appears ready to come out in a later book.

Freedom Squad: Defiance

Chapter  1

In Megalopolis, the gleaming self-proclaimed “City of the Future”, the members of Freedom Squad were on mandatory duty to host an important event. Corinne Dandridge, Cori to her friends, but better known to the world as Rigel, projected her thoughts to Nightstar. “Hurry up, we need to begin the tryouts.”

She waited at the edge of the team gym for Nightstar’s inevitably delayed response. She sighed. He never seemed to be on time for anything.

“Rigel, have I mentioned what a bad idea I think this is?” Nightstar thought back.

“Yes. About thirty times by my count,” responded Cori, “but it’s what the mayor wants. I need you, get up here. What are you doing?”

“Sorry, I was working on the Night Cycle.”

“The Night Cycle? We have a Freedom Van, Freedom Cycles and a VTOL Freedom Flyer.”

“Well, now we have one less Freedom Cycle and a bonus Night Cycle. Don’t worry, I can pay for it if the government budget people get mad.”

“Get up here.”

“No worries,” he replied, partially imitating her Australian phrases.

Cori folded her arms across her chest as her last thought echoed in her brain. She wondered why she was still the team leader of Freedom Squad. She could have left.

She looked over at Alex, known to the world as the Protector, in his blue and gold, holding the Shield of Justice. As she heard the passion in his lecture about what it means to be a hero, she knew why she was still the team leader of Freedom Squad.

With a sense of guilty pride, she thought, “This is my team.”

Alex paced back and forth with the ease of a panther. He looked so much like a superhero, like the Protector. Cori wondered what the former heroes who had carried that mantle, the ones that Alex always worked so hard to honor, would think if they could see their successor. Alex didn’t think he had any real powers, and he always seemed to be trying to prove himself. Yet, when he was the Protector, when people needed him, Cori found herself hoping that she could be half the hero he was.

As Protector spoke to the recruits while Cori watched for their reactions, and she could see that they shared her own admiration for Alex. The only one that she couldn’t gauge was Starlight, an alien who the government had agreed to assign to Freedom Squad. He had no face, just a reflective featureless white mask that hid some type of advanced circuitry comprised of energy… maybe. He had come to replace a former malfunctioning alien named Star Sentinel. Cori was a genius, but she had no idea what to make of Starlight other than he was from a far more advanced civilization.

She focused on the other recruits, trying to study them and separate worthy candidates from unworthy ones. She wished that she could just read their minds. It would make things much easier.

Ion yawned beside her. He was the newest member of the team, and the only candidate who had proven himself from the last one of the mayor’s tryouts. Half of that group didn’t even have super-powers when it came time to test, and the other hero who had seemed worthwhile, a man who went by the name “Secret” had balked when he had found out that he needed to reveal his identity to the government.

“I like the woman in red,” Ion quietly whispered to Rigel.

The group of a half dozen would-be members of Freedom Squad included a tall woman with brown hair in a form-fitting red uniform with a yellow sun on it. Her codename was Solaria. She could fly and project flame.

“She’s not bad based on her energy outputs, but she’s new to being a superhero. We’ll see how she does after Protector runs her through the paces.” Rigel said, “Besides, Ion, she comes with her partner, Snowfall,” Rigel indicated a young man in a blue and white uniform with patterns that reminded her of snowflakes, “or not at all.”

“She’s with him?” whispered Ion. He sighed and shook his head. “That’s too bad.” He smiled, and Rigel wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not. Ion did have a mischievous touch to his personality, which Cori rather liked.

Protector walked over to the door of the simulation chamber and checked the settings. He looked over at Cori. “Rigel,” he asked, “may I start the combat testing?”

Cori tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder and stepped forward with a swish of her white cape. “I’d like to wait for…”

A bright yellow flash cut through the air. A crack seemed to form in the fabric of reality itself, and Nightstar stepped through, twirling his sword composed of psychic energy. He wore a black bodysuit with a bright yellow set of boots, gloves and a bright yellow belt. A brilliant yellow and red exploding start was emblazoned on his chest. He adjusted the mirrorshades that he always wore and gave a smile to the recruits.  “Hello, everyone. I’m Nightstar.”

Solaria grinned and clapped, and so did Snowfall. One of the recruits, who went by the codename Wraith simply said, “Wow.”  Freefall, a recruit who apparently hadn’t had the resources to give himself a full costume as he wore a black shirt over a Kevlar vest, jeans and a trenchcoat with a cheap domino mask, just stared. The only one who didn’t seem completely impressed was the alien Starlight. Rigel had to keep reminding herself that he wasn’t the same person, or being, or entity, or whatever as Star Sentinel.

Nightstar gave a bow with a flourish of his cape to more whistles and cheers. Nightstar was the team member with the most experience as a hero and a reputation as part of the famous West Coast team, New Citadel. She knew that he didn’t want to be team leader, but he naturally seemed to command attention. “I’m looking forward to see if any of you can make the team.”

He walked over to the recruits like a celebrity and started shaking hands. Rigel rolled her eyes. In a few minutes, Nightstar would be signing autographs.

“Whoa… Nightstar’s on this team?” whispered Ion in false incredulity. Rigel nearly giggled despite herself.

Protector came over to Nightstar. “I was about to have them start in the Simulation Chamber.”

“Sounds good, Protector,” said Nightstar, stepping back. “I’m just here to help with the evaluation.”

A woman in green, who went by the name Chameleon, raised her hand. “Nightstar, sir,” she said, “could I have your autograph after the testing session, even if I don’t make it?”

“Oh my god…” thought Rigel. “She actually asked him.”  She made a mental check against Chameleon in her head.

Nightstar adjusted his mirrorshades, but before he could reply, Rigel strode over and interjected, “No. We aren’t doing autograph sessions. This tryout is about finding new members to join Freedom Squad. Megalopolis is a big city and after battling menaces like Promethea…”

Rigel paused mid-sentence and glanced at the ceiling. She had a sudden feeling of danger. As if in response to her hesitation, the alert blared.

The Freedom Squad computer announced, “Alert. Priority One Alert. Code Tartarus.”

“Ion,” said Rigel, “get upstairs and get the Freedom Flyer ready.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Ion, instantly serious. With the smell of ozone and a faint blue afterimage left behind, he raced upstairs.

“Sorry, everyone,” said Nightstar, “but the tryouts are over. We have an emergency. If you will all come with me, I’ll teleport everyone out of here.” He spun his sword and cut a rent in the air. The glowing tear hung unsupported over the floor. Nightstar reached out to Chameleon, and she took his hand with a happy gasp. “Everyone hold hands,” he said.

All of the recruits did as they were told with the exception of Starlight. He was under orders from the US government to remain under observation at Freedom Squad Headquarters. The alien walked over to Rigel. Nightstar took the others, closing the rent with a flash of light.

“I can be of assistance, Rigel. I was sent here to aid the Terran authorities. I command cosmic energies.” The alien looked at her from his blank faceplate. It was a little eerie for Rigel to stare at him and see a vague outline of her own face reflected back.

“I’m sorry, Starlight, only members of our team can come in the Freedom Flyer. We will handle this.”


“I understand,” he responded flatly.

“Protector, let’s go,” said Rigel, as he started climbing the stairs.

He stared at her, and she could hear his thoughts. “Should we leave Starlight alone in the base?” he thought.

“I think he’ll be alright, Alex,” thought Cori. She didn’t know why, but she trusted the alien. She remembered how his predecessor, Star Sentinel, had constantly tried to warn the team that he was malfunctioning, yet no one has listened. Besides, she wasn’t sure what Freedom Squad could do to stop a fully functioning alien android from a civilization that had mastered faster than light travel.

When Protector and Rigel reached the Freedom Flyer, Nightstar was already inside. Ion had gone through the startup sequence and activated the VTOL engines. Rockslide, the massive earth elemental-like muscle of the team sat in the cargo area. “Base Lockdown,” Rockslide managed to say in his gravelly voice.

“Hey, Rigel,” said Ion, “What’s Code Tartarus?”

Cori swallowed. “It means there’s been a breakout at Megalopolis Penitentiary in the super-villain wing.”

The mood aboard the Freedom Flyer was suddenly serious.

“Wait, couldn’t Nightstar just teleport us?” asked Ion, “With his sword slash wormhole trick?”

“Too far and I’ve never been to the Megalopolis Penitentiary,” Nightstar said.

“No problem,” said Ion, “Well, then strap yourselves in, because I have GPS coordinates and the auto-pilot is ready to take us there. Megalopolis Airport acknowledged the emergency flight.”

With that, Ion pulled back on the controls. The engines screamed and launched the Freedom Flyer across the Megalopolis skyline.

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