Posts Tagged ‘Zed’


Part of me wishes I could open this tale speaking of divine enlightenment. That my role currently in the city was like the Organians in the original Star Trek’s Errand of Mercy episode. Where these next steps up the evolutionary ladder types show the way through non-violence.

As my loaded deer skin work gloves shatters the perps nose sending him to dream land.

My composite toe and heeled cowboy boot mule kicks wanna be tough number two between the legs sending him into the puke and urine soaked alley way. Their mugging target is already skedaddling as I use the butt of my shotgun to knock number two out.

Stupid thing known as blue tooth allows me to call in the pick up to the local police. As I head out to vanish, there was a local store’s CCTV camera to show the crime broken up.

At least its not the `90’s when I was more machine than man. Felt like that bloody Trap Jaw villain off the He-Man cartoon. When my one arm was replaced by an actual shotgun. Thankful to James Saturn, the Ionic Knight in one of his heroic turns using the last of the magic of Gerklyn before he was finally removed from reality that finally transformed me back to full humanity.

But that left me wondering if there was more than being just a hired gun. Which is what set me on my newest path at the turn of the century after the craziness of the Y2K non-event that in the dark night of conspiracy lunacy I went inwardly to my own dark soul to move forward in a new way. Training new heroes, and finding myself on the side of light, even up until now where I am aiding in training the newer heroes.

But this city is angering. It is one with a serious case of ostrich syndrome, where the easiest way to deal with criminal crisis is to be like the allegorical ostrich and place its head in the sand. Now one may say it is because the next civic election has yet to happen to fully replace the dearly departed mayor of the city (see Speare 3 and Quest of Rick Saturn the Bionic Knight), but truly it is a city with a pattern.

When there was child sex trafficking discovered, they responded by cutting the budget to the vice unit.

With the rise of the opioid crisis, the first response was deflection or talk of it not being that horrible.

To the rise in gun violence year to year, and being unable to acknowledge the rising tide of gang violence, with one of the most violent and unpredictable being a gang like cult attached to the Bionic Knight’s villain, Killer Face, each one numbered starting at 2 through whatever they are at now, with all the interlocking layers to protect the higher ups. Like a violent/insidious organized crime version of Scientology if you will from what one sees in things like documentary’s Going Clear.

This is the city that has a team of heroes, that are still recovering from our last grand adventure. And the true hero of the town is taking a bit of a sabbatical after saving space and time (see Great Crime Fighters Together).  But there’s always time for a horrible cup of coffee at a downtown yuppie coffee shop that likes to pretend you exist in Europe.

A perky red headed college lass is taking orders. “Black coffee.”

“Venti? Grande? Light? Medium or dark roast?” She giggles out.

“You misheard my order. Black coffee, in a big cup. Strong.” I state.

She looks stumped as she rings in what comes close to four bucks for the coffee. Or maybe she is noting the shotgun butt coming out of the back holster. My face stubble is more salt than pepper, but I tug off the leather gloves and shove them in the back pocket of my jeans as I take the fancy coffee, and move to a table.

The phone is crackling in my ear. Susan Kobwash-Saturn is running for mayor. She is a solid candidate, long-time friend. Actually, believed me when I started changing stripes mid-race. James’ was confounded to, especially when he went back to the darker side of things and I continued on my path of angels. Even tried to literally chop my arm off. Wound up with my jaw wired, but he had his own thugs, as he led the Killer Faces at that time, and well, it imploded.

Then I survived the time when the heroes lost their own way and a new generation became far too blood thirsty. Thankful that taking them down like the villains they were (see Great Crime Fighters Clean up Duty). But now Susie K has a fight on the hustings for she has laid out the path of truth and justice for the city and there is many incumbents and millionaires that still want the status quo of ostrich scenario.

The coffee has that annoying burnt taste that comes from the yuppie grind on site charge you the tally of your first born to buy that craptacular cup of coffee.  As I watch the full moon take hold in the freshly minted sky. The streets can be crazy, sometimes the mo-fo’s torch folks, other times the cops catch them first. The crisis’ become too hard to avoid, and it takes heroes and leaders to step up and speak out. Never thought in a million years that elder statesman hero role would fall to me, but sometimes I do feel like that old Toby Keith Song.

Click on to answer a call.

“Shotgun.”

The voice is faint. Speedster, she’s still recovering from almost being gutted. “Ashram now.”

“Why?” I can play at being dense, sometimes it’s fun, and besides, ashram means Zed, and I detest that asshole.

“Someone crucified Zed.”

To Be Continued…

 


 

The Original Star Trek in their second season about episode 14, Wolf in the Fold, did one about the ghost of Jack the Ripper still existing in the 23rd Century. A right old murder mystery in space. Why this thought flashes through Mystery’s mind.

Mystery’s eyes lock onto the prey only… she’s no longer there. “A mirage.” It comes out as a whispering hiss. How could he have missed that.  The Evil was not after another normal mortal but… “a supra.”  He whirls on his wing tips.

The fog turns to fire.

“Fuck me. I know this evil.”

The fog dissipates to show the prey unconscious on the ground. Her chest still slightly rising and falling. The Ancient Evil floats slightly above her. Speedster has been slowed to slow motion. A scythe. No. An arm. No, a psychic construct.

Mystery tries to form words, but something is stopping him from speaking. He flashes in his mind, get the hell out. And the only answer shaking through his brain is laughter.

Johnny Power lands behind the floating shadowy form.

Speedster goes from slow.

To fast.

To a blade slicing through her abdomen.

“No!” Power lunges at the form as his friend crumples gripping her stomach.

Mystery tries to move but the laughter gets louder. He holds the sides of his head, doubling over in the air. Floating in the fetal position.

The form whirls.

Power’s fist stops just short of the face.

He tries to punch forward.

But can’t move.

A cackle.

The shadows fall away from the head. Crimson read hair cascades down.

She smiles. “You look like him.”

Johnny Power looks at her. He feels something twisting around his neck and head. He scrambles to grip around whatever is holding him. He feels the panic rising MacKay had not covered this in training, what to do when you are battling something completely invisible.

The green flames still engulf the ground around the form.

Green flames peter out in the Ashram. Susan stands staring unable to articulate what she just saw.

        Rick side steps. Both his hands grip the helmet. He looks in the fluid motion right at Susan. “Remember I love you and I will be back.”

The helmet rips off and green flame envelops Rick and the Knight.

MacKay pushes himself back up to standing. He looks at a shaking Susan who motions for him to stay put. Zed walks up to her. “Susan, I think—“

Her fist squarely slammed into the bridge of the alien immortal entity’s nose causing both eyes to burst out with purple red bruising already rising as he crumples unconscious to the ground.

Just behind her green flame erupts up ward blasting two holes: one in the floor, one in the roof.

Susan hears Rick’s voice.

“I will be back. I promise. I love you.”

She feels the heat. Turns and it is all gone.

The look on MacKay’s face states he saw the flames too. A radio crackles in the background of the Ashram. Breaking news about the losing battle.

“We have to go.” MacKay and Susan head out of the Ashram. She silently wonders to herself if they can be faster than fire, but the thoughts rolling in her mind. Rick and her broke the Camelot curse, because she did not fall for his friend, which meant that Camelot could fall, Arthur and Lancelot could finally be at peace.

But…

The green flame beneath the floating shadow woman’s feet implodes. Then explodes upwards.

Power collapses on the ground gasping for air, but still alive.

Mystery falls from the sky, he feels his shoulder pop out of place. But the laughter is over.

The shadow woman lands hard on the asphalt.

The shimmering gold armour. Excalibur drawn.

“Ripper.” The immortal entity that was Jack the Ripper. Rick had done battle with it many times, each time it would body jump, he had never confronted the true entity with a chance to put it to rest, finally exorcise it from reality. But with how this ancient evil had haunted his career, it finally made sense.

Mystery stumbles up to his feet. He looks at the Bionic Knight. “Think it through B.K., much more than the first serial killer reincarnated.” Mystery said. A telekinetic blast sends Mystery flipping .

“Silence.” Ripper said.

The Bionic Knight raises Excalibur and looks at her. His mind races, it makes sense now, the ancient evil clicking together as he had stated earlier. “It was always you. Trying to ensure misery always followed the Pendragon. Like the sober addict’s friends from the days of usage dragging them back. Misery loves company. Isn’t that right Queen Guinevere?”

The shadow form lets out a maniacal laugh. The green flames shoot out around her.

Rick feels the heat within the armour. His sweat stings his eyes as he lands in front of Guinevere. She smiles at him. “Ah Arthur you are right. I should have always just killed you myself.”

“Except Arthur is already dead. I am Rick.”

Green flame shoots from her hands, forms into a spear.

Rick screams as the flame spear tears through his armour and lifts him off the ground.

When he hears her voice.

“Bitch drop him or I swear this 12 gauge is going through you.” Susan said.

To Be Continued…

 

 

 


Pen spits out a spark of fire. Susan dive rolls, feeling every year and the time of being a mother reminding her she is not the teenage adventurer she once was. Back when Rick was of the brilliant gold armour, now she’s a mayoral candidate. Shotgun fires and the pellets vaporize as a metal gauntlet backhands the old scoundrel across the trailer.

The sword raises again swinging towards Susan’s carotid artery.

Things go swirly.

A leather gloved hand shoots under the sword arm grasping at the elbow and stops the sword mid-swing.

Susan let’s out a gasp.

It can’t be possible.  Susan thinks as she watches the new form that had stepped out of the swirling mists of the floor push the sword arm up and away.

A leather first delivers a quick jab between the chinks of the helmet and the armour, where there is a chain mail space to the throat causing the Knight to stumble back.

A steel toed combat boot sends a round house to the gauntleted sword hand. The sword that was/is known as Excalibur skitters out of the Bionic Knight’s hand and clambers to the ground. MacKay picks up his shotgun, reloads while the knew combatant has his former teammate staggered.

Susan pushes herself up and moves to where Excalibur landed.

It is legend that only the once and future king could lift the blade. But truly it is the one of pure of heart as well. Susan grips the ancient leather on the hilt.

The Bionic Knight looks at the new intruder. Green flame crackles from the eye slits.

The new fighter stands a bout a head and a half to two heads shorter than the armoured form. A slow exhale of breath, as the green flames crackle more around the armour. The breath begins to become visible as the temperature inside the “Ashram” begins to drop.

Zed gets up and stares at the two. He looks to MacKay who is bringing his shotgun up, but the immortal alien entity shakes his head. It would not work as well as the last time, or go worse than before.

Susan’s hand grips the hilt fully. It wasn’t possible what she was seeing before her eyes could not comprehend. How could they be separate?

But the more her eyes came into focus as she lifted the sword and looked at the two. She had lost faith he would find his way back from his quest…yet he had returned. Only changed. As any quest into the next life would do to a person.

But the strength he showed saving her life. Causing the PenDragon/Bionic Knight to drop his sword. The power all those years ago had chosen an adolescent who was meant to be, much like the sword in the stone centuries before had chosen an adolescent. Yet back then the absolute power had corrupted, and Camelot had fallen.

Yet here, the power had not corrupted. Despite every challenge laid before. That was at the core of the PenDragon cycle, there needed to be the ancient evil, and yet the ancient evil could not tear apart this friendship, and this love.

Even when the essence-archetype that had been Lancelot found its way into Rick’s long lost brother James, and led to the villainy of the Ionic Knight, in the end James found redemption and gave his life to save the universe.

It appeared the PenDragon-Arthur had finally been redeemed and that corruption would not come. But this last quest something had changed, for here in the trailer’s living room, the heart of the Ashram of Zed stood the corruption.

Pen hissed at the armoured figure as he landed on the shoulder of the other.

Susan lifted Excalibur and swung at the Knight.

The blade slammed hard across the chest plate.

The Knight screamed as the blade shattered and the chest plate cracked.

He dropped to one knee.

“I will destroy.” PenDragon said.

Susan dropped the broken sword as more green energy seeped out.

The intruder held up his arm.

She slipped under it.

There was a rattle from within the chest of the Knight.

The man that saved her life, his salt and pepper stubble. He lightly kissed the top of her head. “I love you Susan.”

“I know.” Susan said.

Rick Saturn let his arm slide down her back and squeeze her tight once more before stepping fully squared before the Bionic Knight/PenDragon/Arthur entity. Green energy swirled around. His leather gloves he used to straighten the old oil slick duster. It was interesting what clothes he wound up landing in the Ashram in at this moment.

Susan was the anchor that brought him back.

John knew he needed to come back to her, and to save the world from the ancient evil.

A quick scan of the room showed that the youngest members of the team where out, which meant they were more than likely in contact with the ancient evil that would be hunting tonight.

An evil he did not want to be reminded of that existed.

One that Zed had hidden the true essence of, but he was prepared for.

Check that, he had been prepared to face it as the Bionic Knight, but coming through the portal after the collapse of Camelot.

“Why are you outside of me?” Rick said.

The Knight gasped like a smoker’s death rattle. “You will die at my hand.”

“Possible, but let’s be honest it won’t be tonight. But why the wanting to kill me? And for the second ask, why the hell are we able to even fight?” Rick asked.

The Knight picked up the hilt with the broken sword, and looked at it. Green energy swirling as he struggled to be on one knee.

Rick looked down into the eye slits, the green energy had enveloped what ever creature truly existed within the armour. But the raspy voice emitted once more. “You defeated the ancient evil of Lancelot, but still you needed a quest so Camelot would collapse.” Rick thought it through, in the story it was Lancelot and Guinevere had been true love, the King was left out, to lie with his sister Morgan le Faye, and to produce Mordred who brought down Camelot.

Yet, it was the quest to bring back a hero this time that led to Camelot’s final demise in the multi-verse. “But Lancelot wasn’t ancient evil. He, with my brother, made the ultimate atonement sacrifice to save everything.”

The Knight roared. Confronted with a new twist it could not comprehend on an ancient story that should continue to play out. “And as for John, unlike your friend, he never stole my love.” Rick stopped, paused on the thought letting it hang in the air. “Guinevere was the seeker of power. It wasn’t Morgan, Mordred or Lancelot.” His mind kept racing. The ancient evil that came around reincarnating in new forms, Rick had always believed it came from the remnants of Mordred, or more precisely La Faye. But those were just chess pieces. What truly shattered Camelot was the lack of “an anchor.  You never had an anchor to bring you back, and the story kept playing itself over and over again.”

“No, you lie Rick Saturn.” The Bionic Knight said.

“No it is true. If you had truly seen what evil had ripped out the heart of Camelot originally you could have save Camelot and the world may have been different. Now we are at a new beginning and it needs to be different. Your queen was the one that absolute power corrupted absolutely, and she was the cause.”

“No. You die Rick Saturn.” The Knight screamed and lunged with the broken blade.

Rick side steps. Both his hands grip the helmet. He looks in the fluid motion right at Susan. “Remember I love you and I will be back.”

The helmet rips off and green flame envelops Rick and the Knight.

To be Continued….


Best way to understand the new Johnny Power in action is he reminded him of the Eleventh Doctor, the one that seemed to have adult ADHD or even Hammy off Over the Hedge on the energy drink. It’s usually Speedster’s that have focus issues, but in this new duo it was the leaping over tall buildings and super strength that produced the focus issues.

The Evil was moving rapidly towards the red headed woman dressed for a night out of clubbing. He pegged her age mid-20’s if she was a day…and soon she would join the previous victim. Power is flitting about all over, thankfully Speedster he noted is trying to get a deeper focus with the rumbling skies, flashing lightning and fog.  Fog was new. The Evil was trying to cover its tracks.  He had to stop the advance upon the victim.

What the hell had MacKay been thinking sending these two out into the hunting grounds?

* * * * **

Susan turned to the words. MacKay aimed his shotgun as the dust cleared.

Zed dusted some of the splinters off him. His robes had burn holes.  The skin that was burnt began regenerating as it is what ancient immortal alien beings hiding on earth from those that would destroy them do.

Susan glanced at the immortal being, he appeared to almost be cowering behind MacKay, attempting to still look strong.  The words though kept ringing in her ears. “Bionics on.” Only two others had used that phrase, her best friend and lover, and his best friend. Who was back there?

Pen wasn’t providing any insight, he had startled awake and was softly growling.

Sheath lightning fills the Ashram (double wide) again.

Thunder cracks.

Another voice as the trailer whites out with lightening.

“The Great Crime Fighters I presume.”

* ******

The fog fills in the hunting grounds surrounding the four. He loses track of whom he believes The Evil’s prey to be.

“J somethings coming.” Speedster said.

Power attempts to leap up out of the fog that is at six feet high and rising.

Mystery’s eyes lock onto the prey only… she’s no longer there. “A mirage.” It comes out as a whispering hiss. How could he have missed that.  The Evil was not after another normal mortal but… “a supra.”  He whirls on his wing tips.

The fog turns to fire.

“Fuck me. I know this evil.”

 

* * * * * * *

Another flash of lightening as the dust cleared.

The armour shimmered.

The sword was drawn in a parry formation.

The helmeted eyes crackled with green flame.

“Step aside villain. The godling must perish.” A voice that resounded as a Greek Chorus.

Susan moved in front of MacKay much to his protestations. Her eyes locked on the armoured figure. No recognition from the Knight before them. But there was a pull she felt to look into the reflective helmet.

“Who are you?” Susan asked.

The figure in the armour stepped forward again. “I am the PenDragon. The one this world calls the Bionic Knight. If you stand with this thing called Zed, then you are my foe.” The sword thrusts forward. “And you shall die.”

To Be Continued…

 

 

 

 


He watches the duo that Shotgun, his old adversary, dubbed “Thunder and Lightning”- passionate kids that they are for this line of work. There were two other duos that had the names Thunder and Lightning. Legitimately it wasn’t a nick name to the first, but rather their pseudonyms in a Circus Freak Show that they used as their base of operations for committing crimes. Thunder was the bearded strong woman, Lightning was a mad scientist, she had turned herself literally into electricity. The man remembers his Dad sharing stories of battling them.

The other were young heroes like these two, run away caught up in adventures. Died far too young as a government used them on a message far to dangerous.

But the media had always dubbed the tandem of Johnny Power and Speedster with it. Confusing yes, but wasn’t the world of super heroes such.  These two had done good in their short careers. The man remembered the original Johnny Power that this one had replaced, they had shared many a beer after successful adventures, and saving the universe. This Speedsters grandfather and father he remembered fondly as well. A pretty good BBQ burger maker they were.

Now he watched as they staked out around the hunting ground. MacKay was attempting to keep them safe by giving them busy work. Unfortunately, the busy work had placed them on the hunting path. The ripples of energy were speaking to it. It was back.

He adjusted the kerchief around his face and fixed his fedora. His long trench coat billowed a bit in the wind as his feet floated off the asphalt. The air rippled with thunder, and literal lightning began flashing.  It is coming.

The man floated towards the two standing around the cathedral where the last victim was struck.  The night was falling, and the clubs were opening.

The hunt would begin.

These two would try their best but they are not fully trained, he needed to keep them in sight.

The red head fell behind her group of friends due to the heals she wore. If you could see as he saw, you would see the white teeth glittering from the shadows.

  • * * * * **

MacKay adjusted his worn beaver hide cowboy hat.  The silver highlights in Susan’s hair shimmered with the sheath lightening through the window the trailer dubbed the Ashram. Zed had disappeared into the back bedrooms.

Susan studied her old friend’s face. The crow’s feet were deeper, and the graying whiskers were more salt than pepper now. “This was easier when I was the one playing the villain.”

Susan looked at the haunting in the man’s green eyes. He wasn’t lying to anyone, he had been cast in the role of mentor for this new generation. Not the role he was comfortable in, the old villain turned hero still struggled with the code of villainy in his new reality. But without John and Rick, he was what they had. Hopefully J.P. and the Speedster were up to the challenge of battling the ancient evil.

Pen rested nuzzling her neck. “Probably was, but you wear the white hat well kemosabe.” Susan said. A creaking sound from the back room in the double wide. MacKay’s hand picks up his 12 gauge and he motions with his finger for quiet. He slowly pulls back the triggers. Zed had been levitating, he wouldn’t be creaking.

“Zed?!” MacKay shouts.

Door splinters and an ancient godling alien fly down the hallway with two simple words in a burst of lighting inside.

“Bionics On!”

To Be Continued….


Susan’s fingers glided across the tablet looking for information. It had been a few years, but she remembered what her sister would always say about these weird sideways adventures with Rick.  Julia, before she became another victim of the ancient evil in its last manifestation. This thing had made it personal coming back now.

MacKay was off to try and gather the troops up.  She was sitting in his old beat up F-150 with 3 million kliks if there was one. MacKay was in the trailer that Zed had dubbed the ashram. The last person that had seen her husband alive, but William didn’t think it would be good for her to confront him. She had to shift those thoughts, Rick was still alive out there somewhere.  Someday, this twisty turvy city seemed like Riverdale or Twin Peaks, not a run of the mill Sherlock Holmes mystery.

Susan’s finger taps the shut down. “Screw it.” The G.C.F. always had this idea of pushing out the spouses/romantic entanglements. The big bad hero club, and in her heart she believed that could’ve been what caused the dark time of heroes that were less than heroic or anti-hero as the media would say. Her fist slammed into the door hard.

The golden goggles were Kyler’s, but the teenage girl’s face was… “Kyla.”

“Mrs. Saturn.”

“It’s Susan, Kyla, been a while since I changed your diapers.” She hears William’s voice hollering her in. A muscle-bound man on the couch must be the new Johnny Power. Zed rose from a cushion and walked over to her.

His lips curling into a sneer.

“Madame soon to be Mayor.”

“Fuck you.” It was only the second time in her life she had ever decked anyone, the first had been John MacCurtis when it was believed Rick had given his life to save him, this time it was she was done with the immortal alien-godling playing Buddhist. Her knuckles hit his chin and he had spin as he went falling back into William.

Who side stepped and let the entity hit the shag carpet of the trailer. His second visit recently by a Saturn ending the same way. As he pushed up, lightning crackled in his and the air around him swirled with a black hole opening.

A small green dragon about the size of a pen flies out.

And rests on Susan’s shoulder, purring slightly in her ear.

She looks right at Zed.

“What did you do?”

To Be Continued…


The announcement went off well. MacKay was happy to see his frenemy’s wife make the announcement while Rick was still missing. It was what happened in the square after that was shocking for that thing to have left the shadows and strike in mid-day light was not the usual scope.

If this was the United States of America the victim would’ve been described as a young co-ed. Truth is she was a first-year university student, first generation Canadian, Sheik judging from the female style turban. And eviscerated. A y-section on the chest like one would’ve used for an autopsy. MacKay flashed credentials he was impressed still worked currently of “non-officially sanctioned” heroics, but there was still respect for the old guard. Yes, the old guard that even rookies knew the story of MacKay’s crossover, during one of the major universal saves, and a well-placed shotgun blast that took out a Killer Face (numbers become irrelevant when triple digits get hit) and saved a hero’s life.

But the slashing violence of this death. The young constable is grey. MacKay wipes some sweat away from his brow, and acknowledges how naked he feels being out and about without his usual double barrel sawed off. But he checks the young man’s badge. Larpe.

“Constable Larpe. Special Agent William MacKay of G.C.F. division. This is an old murderer resurfaced.” MacKay said. He quickly flips open his phone, and hits a speed dial.

“Zed, MacKay. Get the kids together.”

The Constable is on his radio calling it in. The sirens are creating a vibration throughout the downtown core. The thunder clap means rain, and rain means that evidence will soon be washed away. But evidence is not what is needed at this point and time.

A touch on his shoulder, MacKay whirls to swing and stops short. “Bill.” Susan said.

MacKay grimaced. She had heard the scream and crossed the road like he had after the announcement. Showing why she should win at being mayor. Her eyes see the body and don’t even blink as soon first responders are everywhere. The psychic flash dances across her eyes. MacKay knows she already has seen the energy signature.

“You coming Susie?” MacKay asked.

Susan looks at her old friend. And knows what he knows. The ancient evil is back. Re-manifested as it knows the PenDragon is absent.

To Be continued…

 

 

 

 


And the game begins anew.

-Neil Gaiman, Norse Mythology (2017)

It was the ending quote of a re-telling narrative of the Norse Myths. For the uninitiated, the Norse Myths are the stories of the Vikings Gods. Thor, Odin, Balder, Loki, Freyja, Frey, frost giants, Dwarfs, trolls, Fenris Wolf, Midgard Serpent and the litany goes on. They are stories of beings that age, can be injured, die…and yes with the story of Ragnarok tell the end of everything, and it begins again. I encourage anyone who loves legends of old to pick this up. This is the closing (beginning) quote after Balder & Hod with children of other gods pick up the pieces (images of the gods that have died in Ragnarok) and place then on a new chess board.

But why does it matter in a post about the Great Crime Fighters? For you see as I read through these tales of very human deities. It struck me. Unlike what Morrison would say with the Justice League of America that it reflects the Pantheon of the Greek-Roman Olympus. The heroes in the Tyverse, with their foibles, humanness, and yes, legacy characters (ala the ending/beginning of Ragnarok) show that these are the myths that really informed shaping the pulp adventures backdrop.

The Great Crime Fighters were a coming together of heroes to make the world better. The acronym came out of elementary math class of Greatest Common Denominator, and how my mind plays with such things. Much like Thor with other Asgardians on journeys. Here we saw many groupings over the past 30 years in the G.C.F., some awesome (if I do say so myself), some not so awesome. But what held them together was a sense of adventure, even during the “government years” that saw under the umbrella the “Prophets” which were the heroic team for public eye, and the “Martyrs” a wet works-Task Force X version of anti-heroes to do dirty jobs.

Then they vanished, and the time of the non-hero, vigilante took hold. But in the stand of City Hall with the Bionic Knight and PinBall, the heroes of the Great Crime Fighters returned…Johnny Power, Speedster, Zed, Shotgun. Older but willing to be heroes.

Yet were they all older?

Remember what was said about legacy characters?

In the Quest of Rick Saturn, the team was alluded too as those that would support Rick in his journey for his friend, John’s, resurrection. Yet he turned down Zed hard.

So who are the new G.C.F that will be bounding onto the screen without warning?

William “Shotgun” MacKay – a former hit-man/super-villain, now a grizzled veteran that works to train new heroes in heroics. His nickname comes from the fact his left arm used to be a shotgun but during an unknown mission in Afghanistan, his gun arm was destroyed and his arm actually regrew.

Speedster– Kyler Storm was the Speedster that fought along the Bionic Knight, during the City Hall throw down it was believed he had come out of—well being missing… the truth is it was his daughter, Kyla, stepping into her father’s running shoes. Power: Super speed.

Johnny Power- Strong. Able to fly. Darn near invulnerable. Johnny Power has been dubbed the Thunder to Speedster’s lightning in the press. The original Johnny Power was almost immortal, and if not for a contained implosion linked to a singing thong on a downed mad scientist robot, he would be guiding his friend’s daughter. The Power part of Johnny came from the Djinn that merged with a human host. At the death of Johnny Power the first, an essence of the Djinn escaped and found itself connecting with John Jackson, a teenage run away that came to know Shotgun after attempting to pick his pocket.

Mystery –  Like his name implies, he is an enigma. No one knows where this telekinetic who shows glimmers of pyrokinesis and possibly telepathy came from. Rumours have it that he was the son of a Street Avenger, uncle to another Street Avenger, and himself served in the role until “dying”. Yet Mystery, is simply Mystery.

Zed- Zed is simply Zed. Shotgun does not trust him, and Zed does not trust Mystery.

What questions arise when an ancient evil comes a calling? One that before could only be silenced by the power of the PenDragon—a power lost in the Camelot dimension as seen at the end of the Quest of Rick Saturn the Bionic Knight…

Great Crime Fighters Together!

Coming Soon.


  1. How can you see the splinter in your brother’s eye while you have chunks within your own?
    21.First take the chunks from out your eye and then you may behold the splinter in your brother’s eye and help him take it out,
    22. And while your eyes are full of foreign things you cannot see the way, for you are blind,
    23. And when the blind lead forth the blind, both lose the way and fall into the slough.
    24. If you would lead the way to God you must be clear in sight, as well as pure in heart.

-Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ 100: 20-24

Zed attempted to kill me instead of allowing the journey to free my friend to unfold. The question that needed to be asked is freed from what? Something was blocking me. In some religions, they call it sin. In other forms of spiritualism, it is the ego or the shadow that derails you out of the flow of creation. Is this what the Thor entity represented to my friend?

Ancient Rabbi Jesus of Nazareth taught about the log in your own eye while you picked at another friend’s sin.  The challenge on not being able to see yourself or what is going wrong because there is always someone else you can say “at least I am no them” or “at least its not that.” Completely missing the point that those chunks floating around within your own eye are clouding your soul. Is this the journey, better yet the grail quest I am on now? To be able to remove the chunks from my own eye? Release my ego and re-enter the flow properly? Is that where this journey is leading.

Susan is lightly snoring on the sofa when I re-enter the house, Pen is still on my shoulder purring…yes, I realize it is weird to think that a dragon would purr, but the gaffer is species fluid. I pull up the afghan on to her. She mumbles slightly and turns her head into my bruised knuckles. After all these years, you would think I would learn how to throw a punch that wouldn’t hurt so much? Check that I am used to throwing punches in mystical armour, but Zed had shown something is going down, and I need to figure out how to bridge the gap.

It is almost impulsive to rub my own eyes as I slump on the floor by her head. The light in the hall way lights the way to the girls’ room. My two empaths that can give you a clear read on any person in the world and their intention. It is one of the blessings that come with there being differently abled.

Susan stirs. “Rick did you…”

“Zed attempted to kill me.”

I let that statement hang in the air. Not exactly something she was expecting to hear, but not shocking enough to fully awake my dozing wife. Though I guess she has come to the same conclusion that I did, this immortal wants to seek revenge against the antagonist entity, or is there something else? Since the ashram beat down that teaching of Brother Jesus has been bouncing around in my brain the chunks I am looking through to hyper focus on the speck.  What is the speck?

“The speck is John’s ghost.” Susan mumbles before turning back over to sleep.

The speck is John’s ghost.

What are the chunks in my own eyes?

Time to go back to the grave, the fist chunk is my own grief.

Pen slips quietly into my coat pocket as I once again leave the house locking the door behind me. Towards the cemetery to clear the chunks from my own eyes to clearly see. See what?

Grail quest. For some it was the cup of Christ, that which he drank from at the Last Supper, that which Judas and Peter, the yin-yang of the Holy Week happenings shared communion with the Lord. Sought by the supposed source I am resurrected from when I speak my mantra, Arthur PenDragon who searched many years for the Grail. Yet more recently some have supposed that the Grail was the Sacred Feminine, or even the ancient line of Christ himself as carried through his bride in gnostic teachings of Mary Magdalene, who it is believed by legend fled to France post resurrection.

But where does this lead me? Except into a foggy old cemetery at night. Standing before the grave marker of my friend. John MacCurtis. Needing to dive back into the divine flow to truly see where he is resting. To release his soul into resurrection or release? What choice will he make? Pen stirs again as I kneel on the damp ground.

The cross of life, or as some would know it as an Ankh on the ground digging into the ground of the grave. The Latin comes through my connection to Pen.   The chunks have fallen away as the incantation concludes and lightning flashes in my eyes.

Golden lightning.

Time to re-enter Camelot a place I thought long destroyed but that is the revelation for the grail is beyond the veil and the cross of life reveals the face of my friend.

One last time into the breach.

“Bionics on.”

Lightning crashes the ground.

Across the city, a woman with blue flame streaked hair sits upright fully awake on a couch. “Come home to me Rick or by God I will kill you.” A lone tear trickles down her face for fear this may be the one time she won’t be the grail he seeks to come home through.

To Be Continued…

 


As a 12 years old I went off to the young writer’s conference in the city and took a workshop on characters in story from one of my fave authors of the time- Gordon Korman, Canadiana at its finest. The story of his first book published at age 12 was inspirational.  The surreal memoir of the language arts teacher taking ill and the gym teacher taking over and assigning a story for the rest of the school year seemed far fetched, but with my rudimentary understanding of school systems I could see it happening.

The joking he told of trying to tie Jaws and Airplane together in the story and then the infinite wisdom of his Mum, write what you know…and the rest would seem history for the MacDonald Hall (Bruno & Boots) series as he pondered what he actually knew at his age, and that was school, but the idea of characters and then the students having parents seemed daunting—hence a boarding school,  a Canadian boarding school.

I liked that idea, and thought maybe that’s what my life was about, perhaps the grand author didn’t really want to deal with families and that’s why I was orphaned, yet got bored and invented my adoptive parents. Speak to the coping tools of a family massacre tragedy as a toddler.

It always astounds me what runs through my mind as I walk down the hill towards the double wide trailer surrounded by nothing but sand within the city. Zed had taken over the plot and redeveloped it after a Canadian government operation went sideways, and he watched friends die. He left what has been dubbed the Agency, mostly because no one can remember the actual name of the now defunct place and the original budget lines to fund it in the Mulroney-Chretien years was buried under innocuous within the RCMP-CSIS as “Office Supplies-Northern Arctic”.

The front door is open, the screen door is closed. No doorbell, just a simple wind chime hanging, I let my forefinger tap it so it serenades a little as I open the door and step in.

Directly on the right in the living room area, the kitchen has semi walls to enclose, to my left is a display wall that separates a meditation room, there is a full bath and two bedrooms down a short hallway. Within the living room to my left is a collection of meditation cushions/benches as Zed does not believe in furniture. Large fish tank fills the window designed with prism glass so the sunshine coming through creates colours throughout the room.

For the super set in Canada what Zed has dubbed the Ashram (this trailer, surrounded by sand garden) has become a bit of an energy nexus for some of the weirder. It could also be because Zed was the new living form of a fallen perhaps resigned godling-alien, Zeus, that gained the human host a symbiosis and immortality. The good to the Thor entity’s bad that inhabited John. Which honestly means when he calls saying there may be a way or there is information leads me to believe it is true.

“Zed.” The deep maroon robes as he levitates in the centre of the room, lit by sunlight colours dancing, in the evening it will be lit by candles. Also since taking down the younglings that just wanted to kill the bad guy, Zed has not been my favourite person, actually, him selling my secret ID to the agency a few decades back is a major reason I believe he is an idiot and every so often dream of killing him. “What do you know about John?”

He slowly glides down onto his feet. His serene smile makes me want to punch him out, but again I need to figure out what he knows about John, and if the spirit of my dead friend is manifesting to me or is it just my grieving mind and heart playing tricks on me. So yes, sometimes the villain in your narrative can become your ally to get to a truth you are seeking.

“Richard, long time no talk. How are you?” Zed’s cadence is that of a radio announcer, and fills the trailer home turned temple.

I just shake my head, maybe it is the long day, perhaps it is knowing during this I am not drawing a pay cheque, or is it what Susan and I left unspoken around the kitchen table this morning that I may enjoy wielding the power of the Pendragon. At this thought, Pen stirs a little in the inside pocket of my leather bomber jacket. Upside of my partner is that in settings like this, we share a connection along energetic lines in which I can tell if the being (non-human) is bull shitting me or being up front. When dealing with Zed that is always something to keep in mind.

“Zed neither one of us truly are friendly with one another. So, lets speed this up. What do you know about John?”

Zed’s hands vanish into the sleeves of the robe. In the day he would hide twin daggers, one strapped which he was good at using in self defense. Why am I letting the hairs on the back of my next bristle, would he try?

And the flash of steel in the prism colours dancing in the room in the daylight.

Pen leaps from my pocket before I can even react.

A shot of lightning from its tiny green mouth.

Right into Zed’s left red blood shot eye.

A yelp.

Daggers clatter to the ground and he grabs at the eye.

Pen is flapping in the air.

A kick.

I block.

A fist is the most useful tool in close combat.

Make it as hard as you can. Strike as hard as you can in 3 locations on a male attacker: Adam’s Apple, nose or groin.

While blocking, the kick led a left jab directly to his throat.

Zed crumples. Blood trickling from behind his fingers where Pen scored a hit.

Something tells me this was the message.

“Message received about John, Zed.” I look down as Pen lands on my shoulder. “Message received. Oh, and ignored.”

To be continued….