In honor of a certain old soldier - Tales of the Parodyverse

Silver Aegis #1

“The Return of Silver Aegis”

Sometimes, a hero’s arrival is forecast by thunderous fanfare and vibrant explosions of fireworks and confetti, to let us (the citizens of this great country) and the forces of evil (those that choose to oppose it) know he is here.

To do great things.

To combat injustice.

To defend the powerless.

But there are other times when a hero’s premiere must be subtle, and stealthy, in order for him to do what it is he does best.

Such is the case of the man in the voluminous brown trench coat and slouch hat, furtively ducking into the alleyway behind the Greater Parodiopolis Persian Rug Emporium. With the nerves of a cat burglar he sidles up to the heavily padlocked entrance. Placing one end of a highly byzantine audio-enhancing surveillance device up to the door and the other to his own accomplished ear, he listens.

“… top of the line merchandise. The BALD 7.56 millimeter Auto Blaster is accurate, effortless to maintain, and easily concealable from any government Nosey Rosies looking to track a heat signature.”

The hero recognized the speaker: Tooley Guerrero, international gun runner. A fine prize to reel in, on any other night, but McBain was not the man our champion was seeking. Another in the room, whose voice was as cold and as harsh as the Bedouin desert, enjoyed that honor.

“Very good,” the Red Saracen adjudged, “We will take them. Ucku, the briefcase.”

The mysterious figure pocketed the listening device in exchange for an equally complicatedly constructed video recorder. The X-Ray Camera would let him photograph the exchange of cash for weapons, enough evidence to send all of these men away for life. The hero put the lens up to the brick and mortar wall and adjusted the filter until all three men were in the shot: the fawning Tooley, Ucku, an immense mute who was never far from the Saracen’s side, and the arch villain himself, swathed so completely in crimson robes so that only his baleful blue eyes were visible. Impossibly, those eyes seemed to glare right down the camera the moment the hero found its focus. Even with his combat honed nerves it was a disconcerting moment, one that distracted him so that he did not hear the sounds of the approaching sentries until he was spotted.

“Hey! You there!” a guard shouted, “Raise your hands above your head and do not move!”

But the hero did move, with the precision and confidence of a man who had been in a hundred situations like this- cornered, outnumbered, and seemingly helpless. He moved like a tornado, whipping aside his coat and hat to reveal the bright nickelous chainmail that had saved him from mortal harm on more than one occasion. As he spun to face his enemies he unslung his signature weapon from his shoulders and hurled it at his attackers.

KLAANG!!

The unlikely projectile, a navy-tinted circle ringed with stars, struck one thug with enough force to send him staggering into the other.

BRATTATATATATATT!! was the sound of the flailing minion’s machine gun. If he had been shooting at any other man, at any other time, he would have made reduced his target to a bullet-riddled cadaver.

But tonight was a night for this man, this hero, to reveal himself to the world, and nothing, no weapon, no foe, no idea, would stop him.

PING! PING! PING! the costumed patriot used the circle as a shield against the gunfire. Then, like a nickel-plated panther, he leapt onto the shooter, driving a swashbuckling boot square into his swarthy countenance.

“How’s that feel, you jumped-up jihadists? Not so easy to fight when can’t hide behind women and children, is it?” the hero inquired of his unconscious opponents, “Now, its time to take this battle to where it really matters!”

Bringing the shield up to his shoulder, the man charged the door like a human battering ram.

KA-KRASH!!

The locks snapped, the bars gave way, putting him face to face with the foe who would bring death to the country he held most dear.

The Silver Aegis pointed a gauntleted finger at his adversary, and proclaimed, “Red Saracen, your Intifada of Infamy ends NOW!!”

“What? An America superhero, wearing the garish colors of his decadent nation! Ucku, destroy him!”

The silent behemoth lunged forward to seize the intruder, only to catch a solid right cross to the face.

WHAM!

“This is between you and me, Saracen! Send as many goons after me you like, this still ends the same way!” The Aegis hefted Ucku in a fireman’s carry.

“Watch out!” Tooley warned as he scurried for the open crate of blaster rifles, “He’s going to – ufff!”

SPLAT!!

Tooley and Ucku collided violently. Once done demonstrating his judo skills the Silver Aegis turned back to his enemy.

The Red Saracen laughed, “Bold words, infidel! But will find the Red Saracen is prepared for any eventuality!” the villain drew his scimitar and pointed it to a mountain of rolled up carpets.

FRAZZZAKK!!!

A bolt of energy crackled from the blade and hit the stack. The mats toppled onto the Silver Aegis. If he hadn’t raised his shield to cover himself he would have been knocked unconscious.

“Ngh! You think some cheap rugs is going to stop me? Hrngh!” Silver Aegis used every ounce of his strength to lift the pile of fabric that threatened to smother him.

“It will slow you down, American, and that is all I need,” the Red Saracen pulled a cobalt grenade from his robes and tossed it at the struggling hero. Then raising his sword over his head, he blasted a hole in the roof.

FRAZZZAKK! SHAKOOOOMMMM!!!

The villain swept aside his cloak, revealing a purloined SPUD jetpack. As he primed it for take off he had once last jibe for Aegis, “And so your adventure ends before it even begins, ‘hero.’ Farewell.”

FWOOSH!!

Silver Aegis threw aside the last of the carpets, “By Dawn’s Early Light! That bomb is powerful enough to blow this building to oblivion. Only one chance!” He dropped his shield on the grenade and then stood atop it.

THRRASHAKAABOOOOM!!!

The bomb denoted, but was contained by the strength of the mystery metal that Aegis’s aegis was forged from. Instead, the force of the explosion threw the hero upward, through the hole the Saracen had created. Angling his ascent, the Silver Aegis matched speeds with the fleeing terrorist and caught him by the ankle.

“Going somewhere?” Aegis shouted over the gale.

“What?! No!” the villain kicked madly at his attacker, “It is impossible! You truly are an instrument of the Great Satan!”

“I only see one devil here today, Saracen,” Silver Aegis vowed as he acrobatically drove a knee into his midsection, “And he’s wearing red!!”

“Whuughf!”

The rib busting blow was enough to knock both men off course. Like an out of control skyrocket the pair careened across the Parodiopolis landscape.

“Give it up, Saracen!” Silver Aegis commanded in-between punches, “Once you set your sights on the greatest country on Earth, you never had a chance!”

“No!” with a burst of animal ferocity the villain thumbed Aegis in the eye and kicked him free. The Aegis managed to halt his plummet by catching hold of extended flagpole.

“Look out!” he shouted to the retreating man, “You’re going to-“

KERAASH! The Red Saracen smashed headlong into a ZOXXON Oil billboard, bouncing off the signage and up into the air.

“Nooooo!!!!!” he cried again, as the jetpack coughed out of power. The Saracen fell, shouting incomprehensible curses, down into the largest smokestack of the Parodiopolis Ironworks. His screams were silenced when he hit bottom.

Later, when the uniformed agents of the Special Protectorate Undercover Division fished the Red Saracen out of the ashes of the blast furnace, they and Silver Aegis were treated to another frustration.

“A Liefeld Model Decoy!” Major Thomas “Meathead” Mulligan frowned at the body, “It wasn’t even him! The operation was a bust.”

“We still stopped the arms deal, and captured both Guerrero and Saracen’s right hand,” the Silver Aegis pointed out.

“Pfah!” the mutton chopped Irishman tugged on his Panama hat angrily, “Odds are Guerrero knows nothing, and Ucku is too loyal to flip on his boss. Sorry, boyo, but I’m afraid we’re no closer to tracking that maroon wearing maniac down.”

The Silver Aegis slung his shield over his shoulders and watched them wheel the robot’s remains away, “We have to have hope, Major. It’s our greatest strength.”

Next time: The press catches wind of a new hero in Parodiopolis, and everyone wants to know his story. But which reporter is going to get the scoop of the century? Find out soon, in “Who is the Silver Aegis?”

Post By Silver Aegis Sun Mar 11, 2007 at 02:06:06 pm EDT	Subject In honor of a certain old soldier

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