Final Battle?

"Yipe!" There was the sound of something heavy hitting the water very hard.
"Brute is down!" shouted a voice directly into the heroes' minds, "he's definitely uncon--Ambassador says she's on it."
The telepathic voice's owner turned in time to see the boulder just before it struck him, but not in time to evade or deflect it. He actually shouted out loud and not directly into the minds of his teammates, something he never did in the middle of a fight.

Thrillseeker, Part 1

                Wayne nervously brushed the pink fringe out of his eyes. He really needed a haircut. But he also really needed to focus on what he was doing here. He looked at all the people staring back at him, regretting his hasty acceptance of his new position as the volunteer leader. He did have the most experience, he supposed—most of the people in the room were first-time volunteers—but always with the heavy lifting. He barely had any idea what he was doing as a leader or organizer.

                “So, uh, thank you for getting here on time,” he said awkwardly, “I’m Wayne Ko and I’m—“

                “Mighty Mite,” said a voice from the doorway.

                “Huh?” said Wayne in surprise, turning to the door. He saw a tall, muscular woman with a smooth sheet of blonde hair that fell almost to her waist. She was dressed in a ridiculous red, white, and blue jumpsuit with white gloves, leather boots with a short heel, and a sturdy helmet with blue and red stars.

                Or at least, that’s who everybody else saw. Wayne himself mostly saw the heel of her boot as she entered the room with a flying kick to his jaw.

Barishka Gets the Boot

            “My dear Prince!” cried Barishka, laughing of Varick’s blunt refusal “I think a man of your station should realize that one can catch more flies with honey then with vinegar, as they say.”

         “Ah, but Lady Barishka,” said the Prince, his voice and manner dripping with an overabundance of sweetness, “I must ask what I’d do with a fly when I can have something worth catching.”

Penance

                “You can’t sneak up on me, you know,” said Wilhelm, without looking up.

                “Wasn’t really trying to,” answered Andrew, “but I am surprised that you heard me.”

Jezzi's Log, #27

Before the raiders first came to our own homeworld, we were confident in our ability to defend ourselves from outside attackers--or we would have been, at least, if anybody had ever asked the question. We were strong, we were united, we had advanced technology compared to most other races that we knew of that we could turn toward combat and self-defense.
We were not entirely prepared for the attack, but we rallied and fought back.
There were less than 100 refugees who survived to flee.

Call to Action

His heart racing, Andrew snatched his keys and shouldered the door open. He was forced to halt his rapid exit, however, when he saw that he had almost knocked two people off of the front stoop. He glanced between the short blonde woman and the tall Asian man, both in dark-colored suits and both looking apprehensive.

The End of the Beginning

Alissa dove to her right, holding up the sword in her left hand to deflect the blow as she cut low with the one in her right. She danced backwards as both of Henric's weapons passed inches away from her and cut away several of the ribbons affixed to her armor.
She smiled, knowing that, as long as she moved correctly, they perfectly served their purpose of obscuring her exact location. And that perfect movement was a dance she knew well.

Born With Greatness Thrust Upon Him, Part 1

Prologue


Growing up, I was always a bit ahead of where children my age were supposed to be. I had taught myself to read both English and Spanish before I entered school, and by the time the other kids were starting to learn to read and write in their first language I was working on my fifth.

I never got anything but the best grades in any subject, and would eventually be the valedictorian of my high school class--no contest since I'd had perfect grades all four years.

I was never sick, and never even hurt. I was the star of every sports team I ever wanted to join. There were people who didn't like me, or who dismissed me as a show-off or a glory hound, but none of those people ever knew me well. Anyone who took much time at all to talk to me generally liked me.
I was, to put it simply, good at everything up to and including making people like me despite being good at everything.

This was my normal. I never knew anything else. I never really understood just how different I was from everybody else around me. I never knew just how much my abilities exceeded those of every other person.