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AN ELSEWORLD MAXI-SERIES
By Curt Fernlund For Luornu Durgo, the Triplicate Girl of the Legion of Super Heroes, life in the Thirtieth Century was perfect; life, the weather, the food, even her clothes. Then one day she woke up, and found that the world she knew had changed. Her one-time friends wanted her dead, the universe was ruled by a madman and she found herself alone, trapped in a world she never made! What's a poor girl from Cargg to do?
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Written by Curt Fernlund
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Luornu Durgo ran through the dim hallways of the Legion Clubhouse as fast as her legs would carry her. The main lighting was off, but there were glow globes hovering in certain corridors and the emergency lighting cast other halls in an eerie, wavering red glow. The environmental controls were cycling as well, and though she could feel the heat and humidity building within the walls she felt she had plenty of time before oxygen became a concern. A sound like thunder shook the complex, almost throwing her from her feet, as she slammed hard into one of the walls. The emergency lights flickered but did not go out, luckily, but she could tell that the latest assault was wrecking havoc with the internal circuitry. Blue lightning arced from grates in the walls and she heard an explosion from somewhere overhead on one of the upper floors. She pushed off the wall and ran all the faster. |
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Written by Curt Fernlund
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Oranx stood from the uppermost balcony near the mock fins, near the very top of the Clubhouse. It was another fine day in Metropolis, a bit warm to his liking perhaps but as always the skies were a sharp blue, the sun sparkling golden through the upper atmosphere security dome. The Earth Gov. Weather Control had allowed a slight breeze to filter through the streets, a precursor of the post midday rain cycle scheduled for near thirteen hundred hours. His business should be concluded long before then. He stood back in the shadows of the balcony, which had morphed from the outer wall to his spoken command. R. J. Brande had done a marvelous job in modifying the derelict, abandoned by his own aerospace program as too obsolete, and turning it into perhaps one of the most famous and recognizable buildings in the galaxy. The Legion Headquarters was a wonder of modern technology, a collaboration of some of the greatest minds that the United Planets had to offer and the seemingly unending credit line of the galaxy's wealthiest man. The balcony on which he stood was but one of the simpler marvels that made up the Clubhouse, a malleable bit of wall imported from Durla where things were never what they seemed. |
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Written by Curt Fernlund
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Luornu Durgo licked her lips nervously, watching with anticipation as the emergency lighting flared to life, the result of another misplaced sequence. She could hear the deep basso thrum of the air converters as they rumbled incessantly in the background. She felt the vibrations of the hydroelectric dynamos as they churned faster and faster as they converted the strength of the old underground river into usable power. The alarm blared in the background, a shrill animal-like cry made all the worse by the sacra-soaked female voice heard overall, reminding them of the remaining time and pointing out that they were wrong yet again. "Sprock!" Ferro Lad shouted, smacking his fist into the solid rock wall and Luornu winced at how painful that must have been. Andrew Nolan was not in his organic iron form, and she could see the dark wet splotch on the wall where his fist had struck. He seemed to ignore the pain however, cursing under his breath as he returned to typing in random codes onto the archaic keypad welded to the wall. He was getting frustrated, obviously, and the constant din was putting him on edge to say the least. Luornu stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, offering him a faint smile when he turned- |
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Written by Curt Fernlund
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Officer Shvaughn Erin of the United Planets Science Police watched with an amused and conceited smile as her task force overwhelmed the Suicide Slum project that held the two rebels, Ferro Lad and Triplicate Girl. Her plan had been a simple one; let loose a nerve agent and hopefully render the rebels unconscious- or dead if needed, she did not really care which. As she watched her various units of the SCU she felt nothing but pride, knowing that they would do what the snooty Legion of Super Bitches could not, namely take out a crippled Twa and a Mutie boy. Shvaughn laughed. She loved her job. |
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Written by Curt Fernlund
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Luornu Durgo ran a hand through her still damp hair, separating the strands with her fingers as she pulled back, smoothing the short dark mane and finally tying the excess into a tail. She had thought about cutting it, but she just could not bring herself to do the dirty deed. It might be the death of her in the end, but she would not hack away at her hair for any disguise. She strolled into the adjoining chamber, feeling the chill of the cool floor even through the thermal stockings she wore, part of the wardrobe that Andrew had presented when they had finally gotten to one of the many safe houses that he had bragged about. There was no internal heat, no thermal units and little in the way of ventilation beyond the tiny duct situated over the food processor. The regulated temperatures of the Earth Gov. Weather Control were not a factor here, and Luornu suspected that the tiny cubicle was probably freezing throughout the winter cycle and hot and close throughout the summer term. Now it was simply chilly and dusty- no Maintenance Bots either with one lone glow globe lighting all. |
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