[PINCITY/ACRA] Mordecai #1 - Revolutions End

[rickhindle]

MORDECAI
#1 – Revolutions End
by Rick Hindle

*Cover: Mordecai is standing in the foreground, dressed in a tuxedo.
In the background, a spaceship sits in orbit above a planet.  A elfish
woman stands next to a man in Revolutionary War-era clothing in the
area to the lower left, while Thunderclap, Ironwing, Steelhide and
Velocity stand to the lower right.*

	“If you look upon the universe as a number of interconnecting worlds,
where each is slightly different then the last, then you've still
missed my point,” the instructor stated sternly, her eyes flaring
behind the clear lens of the glasses she wore.  Mordecai cringed and
then absentmindedly scratched the back of his head below his long
hair.
	Looking to his right, Mordecai caught a glimpse of his friend
Charlemagne, his eyes dancing in laughter as he tried to stifle the
reaction.  “And you, Apprentice Charlemagne,” the teacher sternly
pressed on, moving on from Mordecai.
	The teacher rambled on at Charlemagne, leaving Mordecai to stare out
the window at the kaleidoscope of colors that represented the
universes outside.  “I do have a question, Madame Instructor,”
Mordecai said out of turn, interrupting the teacher's continuing
lecture.
	He didn't wait for a response, instead heading right into his
question, “I do understand what you are trying to say, Madame.  The
universe is itself a series of worlds, where some can change.  But
others are wholly independent, where the galaxy it lives in can
breath, live, and then die within an instant.  I also understand what
my duties are, to protect Slipspace from, well, from anything.”
	The teacher nodded, her eyes began to smile, the corners of her mouth
began to twist, ever so lightly at the thought that he had figured it
out.  “And what is your question, Apprentice Mordecai?”
	“How do I save the universe?”

	Dozens of lifetimes later, Mordecai shook his head at his youthful
bravado.  One of the great things about living as long as he did, he
thought, was that you can learn many lifetimes worth of lessons.
Standing on a barren ledge in Montecaivo, he looked at the still warm
wreckage of the aircraft that had been carrying dreams.  Dreams of
destruction, revenge, and hope.  He had had his run-ins with Zorstorer
in the past.  The Nazi super criminal had met his maker, finally.
	Mordecai shook his head at the thought of all the ruined lives that
Zorstorer had left behind.  It felt worse than the lectures, worse
than the feeling of the rulers against his skin from the instructors
when he had gotten a question wrong.  His underling, the Ice Queen,
had been someone for Thunderclap to battle, a useless being bent of
her perceived faults.  Suzie, a friend of Thunderclap's, of
Velocity's, was in there somewhere, too.
	It wasn't to be, he thought, poinently.  There was supposed to be a
positive reaction, something good to come out of all this.  He looked
up a bit at an outcropping in the cliff and saw Thunderclap, wearing a
Bureau of Superhuman Affairs jacket on top of his tattered uniform.
He looked exhausted to Mordecai, his eyes red, his hair a mess.
	Without thinking, Mordecai blinked his eyes and found himself
standing next to the seated Thunderclap.  “Clay,” he said quietly.
	Clay Hunter blinked once, then twice, and then finally looked up at
Mordecai.  “What are you doing here?” Thunderclap asked.
	Mordecai shrugged and sat down.  “I...to be honest, I didn't think
I'd see you here,” he stated.
	“Why's that?” Clay replied, looking down at the crash site, wallowing
in his own misery.
	“Your home – Pinnacle City is under attack,” Mordecai stated
plainly.  “The gang war there is exponentially growing.”
	“I'll fail,” came Clay's pained, child-like reply.
	Mordecai just nodded.  “Go ask the Ranger how many times he failed,”
he said tersely.  “Or maybe Steelhide or Ironwing or the Liberator.”
	“What's your point?  Are you trying to make me feel better?  This is
the second damn time you've come to me and the second time you've made
me feel like a frigging piece of crap!  Who the hell are you
Mordecai?  Huh?”
	He sat there, staring out across the shambles that made up
Montecaivo, letting Clay's words seep into his skin like the lashes
they had felt like.  It troubled Mordecai– there were so many things
that he knew about Clay but couldn't tell him.  His honor and code as
a defender of the Slipspace demanded that he bite his tongue.
	His eyes not leaving Montecaivo, Mordecai said to Clay, “You're
right, I'm a bastard.”
	Clay looked back at Mordecai.  There was no smile.  In fact, Mordecai
had never seen Clay so expressionless.  “Good to know you know that,”
Thunderclap stated, his voice edged with hate.
	“You want to prove yourself wrong?  That failure can be overcome?”
	Clay didn't responded.  Instead, he looked down at the wreckage.
Mordecai knew what he was thinking.  “What did your coaches use to
say?  You've dropped a pass, Clay, that's all.  It may have been a
touchdown-”
	“Shut up!” Clay shouted at him.  Mordecai was taken aback.  After
all, he thought, he was just trying to help.  “I know what I need to
do.  I just have to get there and do it.”
	“I'll get you there faster,” Mordecai told him.  “Get the Protectors,
I'll take you there in no time.”

* * *

	Somewhere on the hill, a shiny object got her attention.  Looking
around, Gwen saw that nobody else had noticed it.  Not that any of the
shabbily dressed people in this village really paid much attention
except for what was right in their faces.
	Gwen looked around again, her blue eyes darting about.  The quiet
village moved around, the open fires in front of some of the small
cottages burned bright in the light of the first light, the smell of
hoppers and chubs and water-scales filled the air.  Gwen placed the
basket of clothing she held to her hip and walked up the hill.
	Looking back over her shoulder, Gwen admired the village of Lathkre
from the hill.  It was made up of a few dozen cottages and shacks,
centered around a square with a statue in the center.  The man it
depicted held a long sword and appeared to be standing on top of a
dragon's head.  While the image of the face and his courageous deeds
to slay the Dragon of the North were ingrained in her brain, she could
never remember the name of the statue.
	Turning back from the village, Gwen looked down at the object.  It
was silver, with symbols engraved in it.  Gwen had never been educated
– the village only had a few books and only the roving ministers
actually knew how to read – so the symbols looked alien to her.  The
top two-thirds of the object were above the dirt, so Gwen reached down
and pulled up on the object.  It came out fairly easily, which to Gwen
meant that it had been there rather recently.  Even thought she had
never been educated, Gwen did understand how things grew in the grass
of the rolling hills that surrounded Lathkre.
	Gwen placed the basket down and turned the object over in her hands.
It was a long piece of silver with another piece welded perpendicular
to it about a third of the way down.  The symbols were written on the
cross-piece, engraved with a sharp object into the silver with what
Gwen had to assume was a lot care.  While she had only a small idea of
what wealth was, Gwen understood quickly that this could fetch quite a
few alms in Reyvol, the large city to the northwest.
	Gwen smiled and said out loud, “Maybe enough money to-”
	She was cut off by a roll of thunder.  The skies above had turned
dark, blotting out the first light.  “Where did this come from?”  Gwen
muttered, placing the silver cross down onto the laundry in the basket
and picked the whole thing up.  She turned and started walking down
the hill when a terrific bolt of lightning struck down, only feet from
the statue.
	The noise and power knocked Gwen off of her feet, forcing her to drop
the basket.  The laundry fell out, creating a canvas on the ground.
Gwen shook her head to clear the cobwebs and stared down at the
square.  A large man was standing where the bolt had struck, looking
around.  Gwen could tell from where she was standing that he was twice
the height of her, with a horse's head on a man's body.  He wore
armor, but not like the Rangers who ventured down from Reyvol to make
sure that the southern raiders weren't advancing to far into the hill
country.
	Gwen noticed his armor was cut to let his muscular arms hang free.
He wore what actually looked like a short skirt of armor that exposed
his powerful thighs before they disappeared again into armored
leggings and shoes.  The breast plate shined despite the black clouds
above.  To Gwen, the armor looked like it had been cut from the same
material as the cross that sat on the ground.
	Two men, Norn and Thom, ran forward towards the creature.  Gwen
watched in horror and the creature turned, and swiftly carved the two
nearly in half with a long sword.  More screams came from the
townspeople as the creature dispatched them with ease.
	Gwen picked up the cross and ran towards the hills.  She dared not
look back over her shoulder.  Her will was doubled when she heard what
sounded like laughter coming from the village.

* * *

	Mordecai looked at the fighting going on in Pinnacle City's East Bay
neighborhood and could only shake his head.  For years, he had tried
to combat crime in the area, sometimes alone, sometimes with costumed
vigilantes like Tin Shield or Red Shot.  The East Bay was crime
infested, passing from one immigrant group to another, through the
hands of various groups of poor, neglected children.  Gangs fought for
control of territory whose value amounted to less than nothing.
	He wondered briefly if there had been something more he could have
done.  Maybe broken up one of the Chinese Tongs, maybe stopped the
Irish mob from destroying it before they moved onto nearly breaking
Rosetown?  What bout the Hispanics?  The Haitian gangs?  Every time he
or someone else had stomped out the criminal elements running the East
Bay, another group came forward into the vacuum.
	A noise on his belt shook Mordecai from his reverie.  He reached down
and pressed one of the studs on his belt buckle.  A holographic
imagine appeared before him.  It was his assistant, Gretta, her tall
ears pierced with a number of hoops.
	“Message from Mother, Mordecai,” she stated.  Gretta was a Green
Druid, who occupied the dark side of the Moon.  She was the heir
apparent to the throne, but had not yet given up serving the
universe.  That made her more than assistant, Mordecai guessed, but no
matter what he tried, he could never get Gretta to call him “Sir”.
	“What does it want now?” he replied.  Mother was, well, nobody knew
what Mother was.  It was neither male, no female, and sat in a tower
on a planet near the galaxy's core, sending out orders to a plethora
of Slipspace walkers like him.
	Gretta glanced at something off-screen, probably a data tablet.
“There are reports of a crossing on Thatar,” she told him.
	“Thatar's not my sector,” Mordecai responded.  “Where's Cordelia?”
Mordecai was technically correct.  In theory and in practice, Earth's
solar system, and the various Slipspace lanes that went through it,
were his domain.  “Is Thatar even a planet?”
	“It's very much a planet,” Gretta responded.  “I looked it up.  It's
about twelve hours via Slipspace.”
	Mordecai thought about this response.  Twelve hours, on board the
Illustrious, with his crew.  Or, he could ignore the order, citing
that his regulations require him to make the defense of Earth his
primary responsibility.
	“Mordecai,” Gretta continued.  She paused and took a deep breath,
something Mordecai noticed.  Gretta was very rarely at a loss for
words.  “It's him.”
	The words sat there for an instant before Mordecai grasped what she
meant.  It had been years, more than a lifetime, at least, since he
had seen him.  “Tolar,” he whispered.   “Are we sure?”  Gretta just
nodded her affirmation.
	Mordecai didn't respond.  His mind was numb and his body reverted to
what it was trained to do.  He pressed a stud on his belt and image of
Gretta disappeared.  Without hesitating, Mordecai pressed another stud
and disappeared from view on Earth.

* * *

	Gwen ran for her life.  Her lungs screamed and the muscles in her
legs cramped with every step.  It was like hell was chasing her and
she had to escape.  As she crested a hill, breathing hard, Gwen looked
back over her shoulder.
	Two massive dog-like creatures were racing towards her, their ugly
snouts bared open, revealing knife-shaped teeth.  Two pairs of blood
red eyes stared towards her, carried by bodies of muscle.  They ate up
the distance between themselves and her like it was nothing.
	Turning back around, Gwen took a step and slipped, rolling down the
hill.  She bounced into the air and landed on her side.  She looked at
her hand and saw she still clutched the silver cross.  Grunting, Gwen
turned and looked up.
	A man was standing there, wearing Nantucket red pants, a blue shirt
and a blue blazer.  He was holding something in his hand, his gaze not
down towards her, but at the terrible beasts chasing her.  Without a
word, the man pointed the object at one of the dogs and it emitted a
beam of light.
	Gwen looked back and stared open-mouthed as one of the beasts
disappeared.  “What...where did it-” she was cut off as the second dog
stopped and snarled.  It howled in pain and stared at the man.  It
took two steps and then leaped, it's massive teeth shining in the
fading daylight.  It never got close to them.	The man had shifted his
aim and another burst of energy flew from his device.  The other beast
made a brief noise that Gwen heard and then disappeared.
	There was no noise except for the wind blowing and rustling trees.
Gwen sat up and saw the man had his hand out to help her up.  She took
it, and after standing up, asked, “Who are you?”
	Smiling, he responded, “My name is Mordecai.  I'm here to rescue
you.”
	“How cute,” a voice growled in the distance.  Gwen turned around and
almost fainted.  Tolar was standing there, his horse head displaying a
cruel smile.  His armor, which had been gleaming when Gwen first saw
him, was now covered with blood.  The blood, she thought, of her
friends.
	“How am I not surprised,” Tolar said, his massive right hand adjusted
its grip on the handle of his sword.  Gwen could hear the monster
breathe, or at least she thought so.  Tolar stood still, staring at
Mordecai, their eyes never moving.
	“What is that thing?” Gwen choked out, her eyes fixated on the being
with a horse's head and a man's body.
	Mordecai answered her without taking his eyes off of the monster.
“His name is Tolar,” he answered cryptically.  “He comes from a
different dimension.  I think he wants to kill you.”
	With that, Gwen fainted.
	Mordecai's brain registered that the girl had fainted, but he still
did not take his attention away from Tolar.  To match the sword that
the beast was carrying, Mordecai reached down and pulled what appeared
to be a cigar tube from his pocket.  He flicked his wrist, and a long
beam of light emerged and held itself there.  “We must fight fair,” he
simply said, a faint, ironic smile emerging on his face.
	“You humans and your sense of fairness,” Tolar grunted.  He
disappeared.
	Mordecai shifted into a fighting crouch, his eyes darting around.  He
moved his laser sword so that he could move it in any direction.
Before Tolar appeared, Mordecai could sense the change in the air.  He
wheeled towards the disturbance, the weapon moving forward to time
with Tolar's reappearance.
	The laser beam met skin and the smell was immediately nauseating.
Mordecai let his hands finish the swing and then immediately moved
into a defensive posture.  Tolar simply grunted at having the sword
cut into his arm and plunged towards Mordecai, his massive sword swing
downwards.  From experience, Mordecai knew he would go for the killing
blow immediately, so he simply sidestepped the brunt of the attack and
then used his sword to parry and off-balance strike.
	Tolar moved past Mordecai, stumbling a bit.  Mordecai followed and
struck out again, clipping the back of the monster's leg.  Another
grunt followed.  Tolar tumbled forward and then stood up, ignoring the
blood flowing from his right arm and leg.  It seemed to muddle with
the blood of Gwen's townspeople on his skin and armor, adding to his
horrific vestige.
	While Mordecai looked at Tolar, trying to figure out his next move,
the beast looked over at Gwen.  He was something, and a glimmer
emerged in his eyes.  She was beginning the stir, and as Mordecai saw
what was happening, a disgusting piece of drool fell from the
monster's mouth towards the ground.  Slowly, Tolar walked towards
Gwen, his eyes on her.
	Mordecai took his laser sword into his left hand and reached into his
blazer with the right.  He grabbed the ray gun he carried and fired it
at Tolar.  While it bounced off the monster's armor, it bought him
enough time.  He hoped.
	Tolar turned looked at Mordecai.  “Another pitiful showing,
Mordecai,” he said, humor dancing around in his voice.  “And, not
surprising, another dead woman.”
	Mordecai rushed forward, but as he did so, Gwen threw was she holding
at Tolar.  It missed him, but the monster's eyes tracked the object.
It was a silver cross, that much Mordecai could tell from his vantage
point.  Tolar walked away from Gwen and towards the cross.  Mordecai
stopped next to Gwen, and looked down at her.
	“Are you okay?” he asked.  Gwen nodded and stared silently at the
monster as it walked over to the cross.
	Tolar grabbed it off the ground and then turned back to Mordecai.
“Until we meet again,” he growled and then disappeared.

* * *

	Mordecai looked out the window of the Illustrious at Gwen's planet.
Thatar was a planet of greens and blues, shades of gray and brown, not
unlike Earth itself.  It was slightly smaller, but had three moons,
and circled in a binary system that the ship's computers called
Tantan.  Shutting down the data pad he was using, Mordecai stood up
from his chair and walked towards the observatory's door.
	The Illustrious was a big ship, but currently only had a small crew.
It made for quiet trips around the universe, Mordecai thought.  But
also a very quiet ship.  Maybe, someday, he'd convince Mother to let
him expand the crew.  It would never go for it, he said, a smile
crossing his face.  But at least he'd make Mother sweat.
	Mordecai walked up towards the ship's bridge.  Only Calvin was there,
typing commands into the command console.  Without announcing himself,
Mordecai sat down in the captain's chair.  “Good morning, sir,” Calvin
said without looking up.
	Mordecai smiled, “Good morning, Calvin,” he responded, “how is out
guest?”
	Calvin swiveled in his chair and looked at Mordecai.  “She's still in
shock.  I'm guessing she'll be fine in a couple of days.”
	Nodding, Mordecai looked away from Calvin and out the large bridge
window towards Thatar.  “I wonder if she wants to go back?”
	Calvin chose not to respond, instead turning back and continuing with
what he was working on.  “Mother sent a message,” he announced.
	“What does it want today?”
	“For us to head back to Earth.”
	Mordecai nodded.  “How soon?”
	“Yesterday.”  Mordecai rolled his eyes.
	“All right, let's get going,” Mordecai instructed.
	“Aye, sir,” Calvin replied.  “And what of Miss Gwen?”
	Mordecai pondered this for a moment.  “We'll bring her with us – I'm
not sure what is left there for her.  But it's better she come with us
now while we figure out what Tolar wanted with that cross.”
	Calvin nodded and punched in the command.  The Illustrious smoothly
slipped from orbit around Thatar, and then shifted itself into
Slipspace.  Before Mordecai could realize it, Calvin had them sliding
through Slipspace, covering light years in well under an hour.
	As they traveled, Mordecai could not help but feel that Tolar's plans
would eventually put them in conflict again.  Maybe then Mordecai
could have his revenge.  At that, Mordecai smiled; a cruel, malicious
smile.

-/-  -/-  -/-

Author's Note:

Mordecai will return.  I know that I let it slip that it would be
“Doctor Who in spandex”, but it's also a bit of a mash-up of ideas.  I
looked at what I'm reading lately, in both comic books and prose, and
it's a weird mix: some sci-fi, some mystery, some thriller.  And
that's what “Mordecai” kind of is for me.  He's a member of the
Universal Defense Group, a multi-dimensional, trans-galactic police
group that can also travel through time.

Mordecai was born in 1722, a native of Pinnacle City.  So he's got a
lot of time that I can spend creating stories.  I'm not 100% happy
with the way this came out, but I'm just happy to be putting something
out.  Here's to a product 2011 for us all.

Rick