Chapter 4

"Legacies Left, Legacies Lost"

By Corey Blake

Across the morning skyline, a lone figure cut through the fog. The weather seemed to match his mood. Depressed. Rich Rider had experienced much through his career as Nova, the Human Rocket. He had seen friends die. He wished it would get easier. Just as his team of super-powered young adults, the New Warriors, were attempting to gain focus and direction again, tragedy struck. Silhouette, after quitting the team for a new life, returned only to sacrifice herself for her friends, if not all of New York City.(*1) While the rest of the team was mourning in their own way, Rich was looking for a way to remember her. She had always been a very private person. Like the Warriors' former leader, Night Thrasher, much about her remained a mystery. Rich wanted to finally know her. He decided the best place to start was the last place she called home, a mid-sized warehouse in Chinatown. Nova sliced through the fog and down the same ventilation shaft he had used yesterday.

"Monkey suit, begone!" Nova's uniform morphed into his normal street clothes, a flannel shirt and ripped jeans. Rich had hoped to lighten his own mood, but it didn't work. The stale air inside the warehouse wouldn't let it. With a sigh, Rich began looking through Sil's things on her dresser. She and Bandit never had much money, and it showed. Rich started to reach for the top dresser drawer, but paused. Thoughts of going through Sil's panties and bras seemed a bit disrespectful. So, he bent down and opened the bottom drawer.

"Oh, man..." Rich didn't expect to even find her old New Warriors costume. The yellow stripe down either the side tried to brighten up the dank atmosphere, but failed. Rich began wondering what he was going to do with all of her things. Probably give them to Andrew Chord, her father, even if they only knew each other for a couple years.(*2) He lifted the costume out of the drawer, and something caught his eye. Placing the costume on the floor, he lifted out a diary. Silhouette Chord's diary.

Could this tell the New Warriors who she really was? Rich brought the diary over to the bed, studying the meager lock around it. He questioned whether it was right to open it, but knew that he needed to know. Using barely a fraction of his alien-endowed strength, he broke the lock, and opened to a random page.

November 18, 1995

Darryl and I have moved into a new place. Sure it's shabby, but we can make it work. For the first time in my life, I feel as though I'm stepping out of the shadows instead of living in them. He gives me such hope for...

Rich smiled for her happiness. She never seemed to smile much while with the Warriors. But, Rich stopped when he realized something he didn't notice at first.

"Darryl? I thought his name was Joseph."(*3)

Rich flipped a dozen pages forward.

April 27, 1996

I've decided to tell Joseph I'm moving out. Looking back, I can't believe how far I've sunk. To think that drugs would somehow make my life better. I'm so lucky to have been able to stop when I did. I'm not sure if I'm more angry at myself for becoming what I once fought so hard to prevent on the streets, or at my brother's gang for pushing it on me to begin with. Even miles away, my brother continues to pull me down. Just as Joseph has pulled me down these past months. I've got to find the courage to change that.

"It's the same guy. But, I don't get it. Was someone posin' as Bandit? No, that doesn't make sense. Unless Sil was in on it. This just doesn't add up. Sil, what happened to you?"

Rich flipped back through the diary.

February 25, 1996

Joseph has been missing for four days. I miss him so much. At least, I think I do. It scares me to write this, but I sometimes wonders if he cares for me, anymore. He doesn't act like the man I used to know. While I was still with the Warriors(*4), he was always so concerned about me, about my past. But, it all seemed to fade away. It's like I'm his prize, his proof that he's stolen a part of Dwayne's life. Now that he's gotten it, he's gone off to find more. I used to think his anger and bitterness would eventually subside. But, it hasn't. Once again, he's stolen into the night, taking my heart along with him. He truly is a bandit, in name and spirit. Once he's stolen something, he needs to steal again. What have I done? Has this been a mistake? I used to think we could help each other, cure each other and become stronger. Now, he's not even here. And I'm left alone. So, alone. With nothing but the shadows. I need something. Something to keep me from thinking of what a mistake my life has become. Something to fill up my empty shadows. I search through my life for a friend, and there are none. I search for family, but they would never accept me again. But, my brother's gang. Maybe they could help. Maybe they could give my life substance. I need something. Anything.

Finally, Rich Rider cried. For Sil. For all the friends he's lost.

Brooklyn had a reputation for being a nasty neighborhood. Thrasher knew this. That's why he was determined to be even nastier. Trey Rollins adopted the mantle of the living weapon against crime from the first Night Thrasher.(*5) Trey was pounding the living crud out of two would-be muggers when Night Thrasher passed by. He attempted to help the young man, but Trey wouldn't have any of that. He actually shoved Night Thrasher back and continued to feed his fists to the street scum. Night Thrasher was so shocked by this, that after Trey calmed down, he asked him to meet his employer for a lucrative job. His employer, Dwayne Taylor, not only happened to be the head of the very lucrative Taylor Foundation, but was in fact Night Thrasher, himself. Trey inherited the trademark armor and position in the New Warriors, while Dwayne Taylor retired to a normal life. Trey was determined to use the chance he got to make a difference. Now if he could only figure out how to work the friggin' armor.

Crouched on a rooftop, Thrasher watched as a drug trade was about to take place. He was so ready to pummel the worms that he could taste it. He kept telling himself to wait just a bit longer. Got to catch them red-handed. Just a bit longer.

The New Warriors resided in a warehouse along the East River called the Crash Pad. Most of them, anyway. Speedball actually lived with his mother in an apartment, but he spent most of his time here, with his best friends. The mood in the Crash Pad had been morose, at best. Silhouette's death still sat in the air, and the fog over the East River seemed to prevent anyone's spirits from lifting. That didn't keep Speedball from trying.

"Look out!!! Cat hairball!!!" Speedball bounced through the Warriors' living room, dogding a kinetic-powered bundle of fur and spit. Niels, Speedball's cat who shares Robbie's kinetic energy powers, began cleaning his feet again.(*6) Turbo, Timeslip and Dagger all ducked to avoid anything bouncing and wet.

"Robbie, we appreciate this. Really, we do. But, couldn't you have waited at least five more minutes?" Turbo tried to interject among the ruckus.

"Trust me, Mickey, I would if I could, but these things really can't be controlled. I mean, have you seen how much he's been shedding? I think I felt a hairball coming up a couple days ago, myself. Oh, sure we could get 'em some Exlax, but then would you want to touch the litter box? We're talkin' the Niels River!" Speedball never stopped from bouncing or to take a breath.

Dagger lashed out, firing a light dagger square on Speedball, "Would you stop?!"

Speedball bounced to the floor and landed on his feet, a bit dizzy from the light dagger. "Geez, sorry. But, when you gottta hworp, you gotta hworp."

Dagger walked out, furious, with Turbo closely behind, "Tandy, wait! He was just trying to help. I know, in a really juvenile way," shooting a glare back at Speedball.

"Man, I can't take this. I'd take my parents fighting over this. It's almost like a gra-..., ah this sucks, I'm sorry, Rina." Robbie slumped down on the couch. Tears began to form in his eyes. Rina sat down next to him and put he arm around him.

"I know, Robbie. And it's okay. You know, there are times when things can 'suck' for a bit. Sometimes you just can't change that." She waited for a response and got none.

"Does Dwayne know yet?"

"Aw, man. No. Someone's gotta call him. Where's Nita?"

"She went to Atlantis, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Nova took off and Turbo's busy with Dagger. I'll just wait for her go finish talking..."

"Robbie. I know this is hard, but I think he should hear it from you."

"....Okay. You're right." Speedball went over to the phone and looked at it. His lungs started to tighten. "You know, I've never been real good breaking bad news to people. I'll just wait for Nova..."

Rina walked over to the door, and turned back to look at Robbie. She wished she could do something, but she knew it needed to be done. She quietly turned away.

"Yeah. Right. I guess this is a job for the Masked Marvel." He picked up the phone and hit the memory button for Dwayne Taylor's Ambrose Building Penthouse.

Chord picked up. "Yo, Chord. Uhm, (aw man) is Dwayne there?"

"Uh, sure. Speedie, is that you? Hold on."

A week surely passed by.

"Hey Robbie. What's up?"

Robbie forces his throat to swallow. "Uh, yeah. Hi Dwayne. Look. Things kind of got messed up here. Sil.. uhm, she-," before he could continue Dwayne cut in.

"Is Silhouette there?", an excitement in his voice burst through that Robbie was sure he hadn't heard in a while.

"Well, yes. I mean, no. Ah." Robbie fought back the tears. He wanted to explode. "She's gone, Dwayne. She... she died." A slight release.

"What?! But...no." Robbie could hear Dwayne's voice crack as he began to cry. "she. I... I retired for her."

Robbie couldn't fight anymore. There was no joke to hide the pain. Tears streamed down his face.

The undersea kingdom of Atlantis was returning to the former glory it once knew. Prince Namor had returned. And with it, a swift and brutal attack on the organization known as Undertow.(*7) Only Protocol survived. Under Kymaera's request, Namor made certain to arrest him for the kidnapping and manipulation of his cousin. He wanted to severely make Protocol pay, but Kymaera insisted that she wanted to face him once he was detained. She swam to his prison, both nervous and furious. He was contained in a glass tube. The Atlantean scientists had pumped the tube with chemicals that neutralized his blending abilities and weakened him to the strength of a guppy. Kymaera floated there for a moment, glaring at him. Sizing him up.

"I knew you were behind this attack. Sending others to do your work? I thought I had turned you into something a bit stronger. Show me your strength now, Hard!"

"Don't call me that! You may have controlled my actions, but you never, NEVER, controlled my thoughts."

"Then prove to me now how much control you have over your actions. I challenge you!"

"Spare me, Protocol. Do you think I'd be that foolish to risk letting you escape? I'm not one of your Undertow lapdogs."

No response. If escape wasn't possible, he was no longer interested.

"Namor asked me if I wanted you to be tried on the surface-world or here, in Atlantis. You certainly have a lot more crimes against you up there, then you do down here. But, Night Thrasher let me in on something about you a couple weeks ago. Seems you've got half the surface world governments wrapped around your finger. I don't know how, but you've actually managed to get most of the right-wing factions in the US government to either turn a blind eye or actually support your demented crusade. So, I could risk an American trial, where a mistrial would be inevitable. But, I've already made that mistake once." Kymaera swam away, but turned around before she left. "You made me take too many lives while under your control. I've made certain that Namor will dispose of you in a fitting fashion. You are to remain here where the Atlantean scientists can study you all they want until they can determine exactly what you are. Frankly, I can't guarantee you'll survive."

"What do you mean you can't find it?" Carlton LaFroyge made the Crash Pad his second home once he blackmailed Speedball into letting him stay.(*8) He was a very organized person. Nothing should have been moved.

"It's just not there. I don't know where it went." Rina returned into the computer room. "I can see the space for it, but it's just not there."

"Well, great. Now, how am I supposed to scan Cloak for any risidual manifestations of the Darkforce Dimension?"

"Are you sure it actually worked?" Rina responded, slyly.

"G-g-guys, d-don't worry a-b-bout it. Really." Tyrone Johnson was known as the Cloak until only yesterday. Once again, his normal form, along with his stutter, had returned. "I c-can feel it. The D-D-Darkforce just isn't there anymore. So you d-d-don't have to worry about me t-t-turning on you again."

"We thought we could take your word before and look where it got us." As Hindsight, it was Carlton's job to look out for the New Warriors. Or so he thought.

"Carlton! Does he really seem like the same guy he was yesterday?(*9) Or even a month ago, when we were re-forming the team?" Rina had been a member of the team as Timeslip, until her powers were wiped out.(*10)

"Well, no. So, if you're so different, why don't you explain yourself."

"It's d-d-difficult. Everything's so cloudy. When Dagger left to help you guys out, my hunger got worse and worse. She had always been the one to feed my hunger. So, I fought it. And the hungrier I got, the angrier I got. She was supposed t-t-to be there for me! I had to find a way to k-k-keep her. So I wouldn't lose c-c-control. I remembered Bandit, from when you asked us to help fight against those two Sphinxes.(*11) And he convinced me that if you g-g-guys were taken out of the picture, I'd get to keep Tandy."

"Hmmm. I don't know..." Carlton remained suspicious.

"I feel awful about it all. And I'm really sorry for getting Silhouette k-k-k-killed. I wish I could say that if it happened again, I'd do it differently. But, I really don't know."

"So, what are you going to do now?" asked Rina.

"T-T-Tandy won't even talk to me. I d-don't know. I guess I'll try and help kids like me, runaways.(*12) B-but I don't know how." Tyrone seemed like a lost child. His whole life really was Dagger.

Rina walked Tyrone out of the room, toward the ground floor and away from Carlton's disapproving stare.

"Look, things are pretty tense around here, right now. You'd better go back to St. Anne's Church for now. I'll see if I can't help you out."

The kitchen of the Crash Pad has never been clean or organized, but it worked well enough for Turbo and Dagger.

"So, what do you think? We really could use you around here. Your experience alone..." Mickey had remained out of her Turbo armor for the entire day. She'd rather not put it back on just yet.

"I really need some time to think things out. I'm not sure how much trust I have. He really hurt me. I think I need to focus on helping clean up the streets. That's what I do. You know?" Dagger was trying to hide her pain, but failing.

"Yeah, I know. I understand. But, if you need any help in busting up the crimes, or just to talk, we're here, okay."

"Thanks. That sounds good." Tandy sighed a bit, and slightly relaxed for the first time today.

Fist against face. Stick against back. Foot against stomach. In a whirl of fury, Thrasher is on the drug dealers. There was only three of them. His wild attack caught them off-guard. His appearance reminded them of the stories they'd heard about Night Thrasher. Not the same man, but the effects worked just as well. Thrasher felt victory and pushed himself harder. He didn't know how he got on top of one of them, pounding him with his fists. Hands covered in blood. He could hardly make a face out among all the blood, but he kept hitting. Hitting, hitting. He could be a super-hero. He DID have what it took. The other two ran away, freaked out. He popped a blade from his left hand. Victory would be his. Then why was the ground falling beneath him? Why was the scum getting smaller and smaller? No, it wasn't the scum, he was moving. He was in the air. He couldn't move his left arm. He looked up. Nova was holding him high over the streets.

"What the f#&% do you think you're doin'?!" Nova screamed, trying to snap Thrasher out of it.

"What are you doin'?! I had him! I HAD HIM!"

"Oh, you had him alright. Along with a murder charge! Is that what you want? Don't you think there's been enough death around here?! We're heroes, you f#&%in' moron!" Nova tossed him onto a nearby rooftop, just hard enough for Thrasher to lose balance and land on his back. Nova landed in front of him.

"He... was... mine." Thrasher said slowly, threatening.

"No, he wasn't. Man, I thought Dwayne was a psycho. I don't know what he saw in you, but if you pull another stunt like this, you're out of here." Nova turned around to fly off, then had another thought, turned around and pointed at Thrasher. "And we take the armor, too." Nova flew off.

"F#&%in' great." Thrasher scowled for a few moments, then yelled after Nova, "I coulda used a lift!"

Prologue 1:

Across town, Laura Dunham stopped at a pricy cafe, alone. She has been that way for several months now. She thought she and Rich Rider were really beginning to hit it off again. He was even letting her into his other world, with the New Warriors. But, then it suddenly all stopped. No calls, nothing.

She noticed a newspaper in the other chair at her table, that was left. She notices the front page headline, and picks up the paper: "NEW WARRIORS SAVE NEW YORK, AT LOSS OF ONE". And there he is. A full color photo of the Warriors. Rich Rider has his Nova powers again. Is that why she hasn't heard from him? Or, is it the blue-skinned woman holding his hand next to him?

Prologue 2: The planet Xandar.

A Nova Centurion, one of countless others, sat at a computer as a message came up on the monitor:

NOVA PRIME aka RIDER, RICHARD - FOUND

IMPLANT RECEPTOR via DUNHAM, LAURA - ACTIVATED

To Be Continued...

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