Three Weeks Ago:

	Eddie “The Worm” Martin glanced nervously around the corner. No sign of anybody yet. Pacing up and down the alley, he waited the ten minutes his contact had told him were needed, then opened the warehouse door, and stepped in.

	The lights were off, and only a little moonlight filtered in through the skylights. He stepped forwards fifty paces, as per the instructions, and lowered the briefcase he carried to the ground, then stepped back ten paces. “Okay! now what? That’s all you guys told me! What about the guns?”

	“You’ll get them,” a deep, almost raspy voice called out. There was something od about it, too, almost like it was coming over a television, with too much echo. “Just stand there, and wait for the lights to come on.”

	“Right, right. I gotcha.” Eddie started whistling tunelessly, and jammed his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth from heel to toe. He suddenly stopped as several large crates appeared out of the shadows, barely visible in the darkness, and dropped to the ground with a muffled thud. he heard the sound of metal striking concrete repeatedly, and rhythmically, growing fainter and fainter, and squinted into the darkness to try to see what was making the noise.

	Searing light burned into his eyes as the lights suddenly returned. Blinking and rubbing the spots out of his eyes, he looked left and right, but saw no one. Easing up on the first of the three crates, he pulled a small prybar from his jacket pocket, and pried off the lid. “Geez Louise,” he moaned, “I am gonna die. This thing is full o’ nothin’ but kid’s toys, and I just paid a hunnert gees of the Boss’s money for ‘em!”  He bent over, and pulled out one of the bizarre, unusually shaped objects inside. “This ain’t no Tommy gun!” Bringing it to his shoulder, he sighted in on a steel support beam, and pulled the trigger.

	The sizzling crimson bolt of power had no recoil, but the sight of the weapon firing nearly caused him to drop it. The energy had sheared nearly completely through the beam, which now creaked ominously. Scrambling for the door, he rushed over to where the truck was waiting. “C’mon, guys, you ain’t gonna believe what we jus’ got!”

*******************************************

Today:

	“...There's a scout troop short a child, Krushchev's due at Idlewild... CAR 54, WHERE ARE YOU???!!! “

	Quite a few inhabitants of the Hostel were gathered around the television, watching the latest episode of their favorite comedy. “I still do not understand why you enjoy watching a program that makes light of officers of the law, yet show such respect for those officers we know ourselves, such as Inspector Avagnarde,” muttered Darkenwulf.

	“Ah, it’s just a show,” said Alec, a newcomer. “Besides, that Fred Gwynne is funny. Mark my words, we’re lookin’ at the next Jerry Lewis!”

	Before anyone could respond, however, the intercom beeped twice, then John Mendolsson’s voice was heard. “All members of Legion, please report to the briefing room! Big trouble!”

	Brian Murphy, also known as Hauler, the only member of Legion present in the rec room, grumbled a bit, and stood up... and up, and up. His eight foot frame carried nearly a ton of solid muscle, and his bright shock of red hair seemed to scrape the ceiling as he stretched. “Wonder what it is this time,” he pondered.

	Thudding down the hallway, he entered a small room that, only a few months before, had been a closet, and used his pinky to gently press a button. The door closed automatically, and he felt his stomach rise up into his chest as the elevator dropped. The doors opened, and he trudged into the meeting room. “What’s the emergency, Fearless Leader?”

	John was in his Silverlance costume already, and had the monitor on, where he was speaking to Inspector Avagnarde. “The rest should be here shortly, Inspector, and then we wil meet you at the scene.”

	“Thank you, John. I shall see you then.” With the Inspector’s final salute, the screen went dark. 

	“How soon can you get your uniform on?” Silverlance asked Brian.

	“Pretty quick, I got it in the changing room down here.”

	“Go get it on. We’re needed.”

	By the time Brian had finished putting on his costume, the rest of Legion had already arrived. Most had put on their costumes in their own room, although Dragonlord never really took his off except to wash it. Darkenwulf was there, as well, even though he was considered a ‘reserve member’. “Okay, so now what’s the big emergency?” asked Hauler.

	Silverlance looked around the room, making a mental head count. “We definitely got one this time. It may not be as big as the incident with the Undead and that underground base a while back, but it’s definitely serious.” He tossed several photographs around the table. “Less than fifteen minutes ago, Assistant DA Raymond Freestone was shot to death on his way to prosecute Tony Vespucci, head of the Vespucci Crime Family in Rock Springs.”

	Hauler’s eyes narrowed. “The Vespuccis. Boss, i’m not so sure you want me on this one.”

	Silverlance fixed him with a glance. “I do. I know your history with the Vespuccis, and I think it would get rid of the last few doubts some of the Police Force has about you if you helped here.”

	Jarhead, present but still in a cast, raised his hand. “Excuse me... but why haven’t the news reporters gotten wind of this yet?”

	“Because he was killed by some form of high-technology energy weapon. There was an anourmous amount of damage, and the damaged sections seemed to have been vaporized.” Silverlance nodded towards Darkenwulf. “Your computer records match the damage up with a Domain weapon called a ‘Boson Rifle’.”

	“Great, we got Domain in our back yard,” snarled Black Tiger.

	“Actually, not neccesarily,” stated Silverlance. “The shooter was a member of the Vespucci family, an enforcer named Ricky ‘Shoulders’ MacFadden. They may be backed by the Domain, but it’s human greed and evil manning the weapons.”

	“Typical,” muttered Hauler. “What’s worse, this fits with what happened to Jarhead and Rache.”

	“Then let us rise up, great leader, and smite these foul knaves with the righteous might of our fists!” declared Dragonlord.

	“Actually, we’re heading out as soon as this discussion is over to the crime scene, the parking garage below the Courthouse, to meet with inspector Avagnarde.” He then pointed to Black Tiger and Darkenwulf. “Those two will use their enhanced senses to track down where MacFadden went, then we and the Police attack. We’re bringing down the entire Vespucci Family.”

	“Alright!” shouted Jarhead. “You guys kick some butt for me!” he cried.

	“Well done or crispy critter?” joked Flamestrike.

	“Enough. Anyway, Gateway, you’re our transport for the mission, so once you gate us there, return to the comms room. We’ll let you know if we need evac.” Silverlance stepped forward. “Alright, team, let’s go. Jarhead, call the Inspector and let him know we’re on our way.”

	“You got it, Boss,’ he said, as the rest of Legion steppedthrough a shimmering hole in the air in front of them. 

****************************************

	*snif sniff...* “I have his scent!” called out Darkenwulf. They had traced the scent of the attacker back to a run-down area of town, and had momentarily lost the scent, until just now.

	The rest of Legion, and the thirty armed policemen rushed over to where Darkenwulf was. Sniffing the area Darkenwulf was paying close attention to, Black Tiger nodded. “That’s them, alright. Even has th’ ‘side scents’ from the letter.” He looked up. “Looks like it’s coming from th’ boarded up department store over there.”

	Moving up close to the door, with Dragonlord carrying Hauler so his massive bulk wouldn’t alert their quarry to their presence just yet, the intrepid heroes prepared themselves for the assault. Silverlance glanced at the four on his right. “Amber, Flamestrike, Dragonlord, Hauler... When I give the signal, the girls blast open the boards, then the guys rush in with a Blitzkrieg. The rest of Legion follows after five seconds, and the police after ten seconds more.”

	“Who died an’ made him god?” grumbled one cop.

	“Quit the chatter, officer. This is Legion’s show, we’re just backup,” snapped inspector Avagnarde, as he readied his service revolver.

	Silverlance glanced at Black Tiger, who was listening intently to something only he could hear. After a moment, he nodded. “NOW!” yelled Silverlance.

	Inside the department store, two legbreakers stood discussing their latest toys. “I swear, Tony, I saw dis one blast through a concrete wall. It’s even more powerful than th’ one they wasted da DA guy wit’,” said the first thug.

	“Ah, yer fullovit, Mario. Dis one here fires some kinda exploding rocket thingy, so I say mine’s more powerful,” retorted the other one.

	Their conversation was cut short by an amber fist pulverizing the boards covering up the otherwise unusable front door, followed by a white hot jet of solar flame piercing the cinderblock wall, and melting a man-sized hole through it. Even as they readied their weapons, yelling for backup, Dragonlord roared in a top speed, his scaled tunic glinting in the electric light. Barely a second later, the hole in the wall was ruptured even further, as the incredibly huge form of Hauler burst through, barely even slowed down by the cinderblock.

	“Guys, git in here! Dose Legion characters is ‘ere!” yelled Tony, launching the plasma rockets as best as he could at Dragonlord.

	BOOOOOM!  After Tony’s eyes cleared, Dragonlord stood there unharmed. “Foolish human! Thou seeketh to use flame-based weapons on a Lord among Dragons!” He rushed in, and connected with a fist that sent him flying across the entryway, into a pile of discarded mannequins, where he lay still.

	Guido, on the other hand, had decided to fire at the largest target in the room, Hauler. To his surprise, the immense metahuman dodged swiftly to the side, then leapt clear across the lobby, almost scraping the ceiling, to land directly in front of him. “You shouldn’t oughta play with guns, he grunted, as one ham-hand completely crushed the barrel of the weapon.

	Almost simultaneously, the rest of Legion poured into the store, as a large number of men armed with Domain weapons rushed in from the opposite side. The melee became quite chaotic, and many of the mafioso shot their own allies trying to get a bead on the heroes. Occasionally, one would find its mark, but only Hauler, Dragonlord, and Black Tiger were hit, and all but the last seemed barely affected.

	Just a few seconds later,the police rushed in, and took up positions behind furnishings that were still intact. Trying to draw a bead on the Mafioso, they ended up as mere spectators, unwilling to take the chance on accidentally hitting one of their metahuman allies. By this time, one last member of the Vespucci family had entered the scene... Marcus Vespucci, brother to Tony, carrying one of the largest weapons seen.

	Darkenwulf had defeated one of the mafioso who had been carrying a carbine-sized device, and taken the weapon for his own. “Excellent, an Ion weapon... it has a stun setting!” Flipping a switch, he ducked behind a countertop, and began squeezing off quick but accurate bursts.

	“Youse guys is goin’ down!” snarled marcus Vespucci, and blasted away at the heroes, who dodged every which way. The beam was stopped, however, by the largest ‘meat shield’ in the city, hauler. The blast knocked him off his feet, however, and he slammed into a column in the center of the room.

	“Owww... that HURT!” he snarled, and rushed forward. Vespucci fired again, however, stopping him in mid-charge, and dropping him to one knee.

	By this time, most of the rest of the capos were unconscious, whether by the careful application of force by Legion, or their allies own incompetant marksmanship. The police began to open fire on Vespucci, who then laughed as the bullets ricoched inches away from him, and ripples of energy cascaded from where they hit. “Haw, haw, a force-field belt!” he jeered.

	Hauler tried to drag himself to his feet, but a green gloved hand stopped him. “Nay, allow me, my titanic friend!” declared Dragonlord. He flew through the air, fists outstretched... directly into the beam of the boson rifle. The energy cascaded over him, and his unconscious form slammed into another column.

	Silverlance noticed this. “Amber, Flamestrike, we fire on my signal! The roof looks like it’s about to go, we can’t waste any more time!” As they nodded, he counted to two, then yelled “Fire!”

	“Haw, my force field belt’ll take it!” bragged Vespucci. However, when the golden, silver, and yellow bolts struck the barrier, the field shone brightly for a moment, then collapsed. Seizing the initiative, Darkenwulf fired his ion weapon, knocking the Mafioso unconscious.

	Inspector Avagnarde looked at the two main pillars. “Men, get those criminals out of this building, quickly! Silverlance, I would reccomend you evacuating your team, as well!” The police jumped into action, and were dragging and carrying the unconscious forms of their foes out of the building. Hauler staggered to his feet, and found that both he and Dragonlord were being carried by the golden energy constructs of Amber. The group rushed out of the building, and Amber erected a hasty shield around it, just in time for the entire building to collapse into rubble from the beating it had suffered in the fight.

	“Is everyone accounted for?” demanded inspector Avagnarde. As the sergeants counted heads, he turned to Silverlance. “And with your people?”

	Silverlance looked over them. “Calvin!” he yelled. “Where is Calvin?”

	Wingstorm’s eyes grew wide, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “He couldn’t be still inside, could he?” she asked.

	Amber let her shield drop. “If he is, we’d better find him fast. He probably won’t have much air in there!”

	And as Legion began to clear away the rubble of the collapsed department store, a ragged old man in a long coat slowly carried a furry, unconscious form into a small house, not more than a block away.

**************************************

	Metal feet clicked on the tile floor, as a cyborg entered Earthshaker’s office. “Sir, the confrontation has gone down, and our technicians have finished doing a preliminary review of the sensor readings from the devices we placed within the Vespucci family armaments before we sold them.”

	Earthshaker nodded. “Excellent. I shall proccess them myself, and determine further details, Decibel. You have done well. You may leave.”

	“Of course, sir.” The cyborg tookone step back, then performed an about face, and marched out of the office. This left Earthshaker alone, as he connected to the base computer system, and began reviewing the sensor data.

	“Hrms... so Dragonlord appears to be slightly more resistant than Hauler against most forms of weaponry, yet the Boson Rifle did far more tissue disruption to him than to Hauler. And Amber’s energy constructs appear to be capable of absorbing more punisment from physical impact than directed energy,” he muttered.

	“This is the first part of the information I need. Excellent.” Shifting himself over to the intercom system, he announced, “Technicians... ALL technicians... get to work. I want both projects completed by the end of next week.”