The Legionnaires (Part 1)

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#1  Edited By agent00evan

T H E L E G I O N N A I R E S

(Legion of Super-Heroes movie, DC fan-fiction, Part 1)

THE LEGION OF SUPER-HEROES AND ALL RELATED CHARACTERS AND SETTINGS ARE THE PROPERTY OF DC COMICS.

This is fan-fiction meant for your entertainment.

No Caption Provided

T H E L E G I O N N A I R E S

EXT. OUTER SPACE

A satellite floats outside Earth’s atmosphere amongst the stars. The manufacturer’s mark reads: BRANDE INTERGALACTIC BROADCASTING.

CAPTION

Planet: Earth.

31st Century A.D.

INT. FILM STUDIO

A woman with platinum hair sits with her back to a camera. MARLA LATHAM. A screen beside the camera shows her from another angle. Her face is flawless, with skin that shines and curves hugged by a tight red dress.

The camera, however, is focused on her guest. TINYA WAZZO. Tall, thin, with pale skin and hair as dark as night. She is all grace in her snow white gown. She sits poised and ready for the interview to begin.

MARLA

Tinya Wazzo. How is your mother?

The audience behind the film crew giggles as one. Tinya smiles.

TINYA

She’s good Marla, thank you for asking.

MARLA

She’s quite a woman.

TINYA

She is.

MARLA

Winema Wazzo is of course the 941st Ambassador of Bgtzl to the United Planets and

the Secretary of Federation Defense. She was also voted Brande Magazine’s third most powerful woman in the allied galaxies, and some say, a Presidency is in her future.

TINYA

I didn’t say that.

The audience erupts in laughter.

MARLA

Nor did I. Nor did I. But tell us, what is it like,

being in the royal family of the Fourth Dimension?

TINYA

Hard to explain really, I’ll tell you this,

it is very much like explaining what the Fourth Dimension is really like,

to someone who has never really been to the Fourth Dimension.

MARLA

And how is that, I’ve never been.

TINYA

It’s hard to explain really.

Another roar of applause.

MARLA

Tinya Wazzo you are a riot. Seriously now, all jokes aside.

How does she feel about you being here tonight, as a Legionnaires finalist?

Tinya breathes deep.

TINYA

Proud, I’m sure.

The next film clip queues up.

Marla’s next guest is the muscular Adonis, JO NAH, with long brown hair draped across his shoulders.

MARLA

Jo Nah of Rimbor.

The girls scream.

MARLA (CONT’D)

You must know the ladies love you.

They scream some more. Jo Nah blushes.

JO NAH

Do they?

More screams.

MARLA

A tall dark and handsome farm boy with super- pardon me- ultra powers.

And that hair, ladies am I right?

Screams louder than ever before.

MARLA (CONT’D)

You got your powers from- do I have this right- a space whale?

JO NAH

You do have the right of it Marla. One night I was in the field tending my crops,

when up in the sky a fireball came blazing toward my farm.

I rushed everyone inside and tried to run in after them but it was too late for me.

The beast crashed, its radioactive space guts splashed all over me,

and I my life hasn’t been the same since.

That whale changed me Marla. She changed me good.

MARLA

My, my. Now then, tell the single ladies of the galaxies

what gets Jo Nah’s blood pumping, besides guts?

JO NAH

Well Marla, I love to play Earth baseball,

but what’s more important to me than anything is my family.

The audience’s collective heart melts.

JO NAH (CONT’D)

It’s true. I have seven younger sisters and six younger brothers,

I’ve taken care of them myself for going on five years now and-

Jo Nah turns to look off-screen.

13 young rascals come rushing up to their older brother and smother him in hugs.

MARLA

I can see you have done a fine job, and are well loved.

A SISTER

By brother’s a superhero!

The audience laughs along.

A BROTHER

He has ultra-strength, ultra-speed, ultra eyes.

ANOTHER SISTER

And ultra-bulletproof!

ANOTHER BROTHER

But he can only use one power at a time.

JO NAH

Hush now, you don’t want to tell everyone my ultra-weakness now do you.

ANOTHER SISTER

You mean the curving ball?

More laughter.

The next clip.

Marla now sits with the athletic young LUORNU DURGO. Her brown bob haircut frames her innocent heart-shaped face.

MARLA

Here we have Luornu Durgo. Or is it Luorna? Or Luorni? I can never remember.

The audience giggles.

LUORNU

Sometime its one, sometimes another, and sometimes the other.

More laughs.

MARLA

Explain that to us.

LUORNU

You see Marla, where I come from-

MARLA

Cargg.

LUORNU

The land of three suns, yes.

MARLA

Must be hot. Cargg is the newest member of the United Planets Federation.

Infact, no commerce has yet been and established, broadcasts are restricted,

and flights through there airspace have yet to be secured.

LUORNU

This is true Marla.

MARLA

I’m sorry, I only mean to inform our viewers on some of the political happenings going on at this time. Please, go on.

LUORNU

No problem at all. So, on Cargg, we have twins, like on Earth, but on Cargg twins may not develop until as late as puberty.

MARLA

We don’t follow.

LUORNU

You see, we go through a multi-cellular mitosis, if you will, where at some stage of youth we will separate into two identical twins, with individual personalities, yet a part of the original whole. After this occurs the first time, we share a mental link, can adventure two places at once, read two books at a time, then join back together to upload these memories into a collective unconscious. Two bodies, but one soul, you might say.

Marla gestures like all that just flew right over her head and the crowd laughs uproariously.

The next clip.

Marla interviews her next guest. GARTH RANZZ. A lean and chiseled youth with short red-orange curls and an artificial right arm: with a metallic skeletal structure, and pseudo-muscle formed by a clear liquid.

MARLA

Garth Ranzz.

GARTH

Marla Latham.

MARLA

How you doing Garth?

GARTH

Fine Marla, fine. And yourself?

MARLA

I’m doing real fine, Garth. You know, as I’m sure all the ladies in the audience tonight can attest, chicks dig battle scars.

The women and girls hoot and holler. Garth Smiles.

MARLA (CONT’D)

Tell us soldier boy, how’d you lose that arm?

Garth clears his throat.

GARTH

Well, as you know I served three tours as a Shock Trooper in the Winath Marine Space Corps. Not all Winathians can generate their own electricity you see, but it is a prereq for our unit; so we could travel light and power our own gear. We had just finished up a recon mission on one of the newly seeded buffer planets, and we were flying home making out way over Korbal when our Air Commander reported engine failure. You probably know the official report better than I do, but to this day I don’t know what actually caused it. Anyway, we had to make an emergency landing on one of Korbal’s moons, but the landing mech was busted too so we went down hard. I woke up in shock to the sound of screaming all around me, I wedged myself out from under some debris and saw that there was fire everywhere, I mean everywhere. There were ten people on that flight, that I knew. Then I just started searching. Like a machine. Lifting, throwing, pushing, dragging. I pulled eight of them out. The flight crew were immediately engulfed. There was no hope for them. Out of those I got out, fived survived long enough for search and rescue to reach us.

Garth holds back tears. Most of the audience cannot muster the same strength. Marla weeps as well.

MARLA

A true hero.

GARTH

Just doing my duty ma’am. Did it all with one arm too if you’ll believe it. Lost the right one in the crash, but the adrenaline kicked in and I never noticed till the medic said so halfway home. But The Corps gave me a medal and fitted me with this slick new lightning-slinger.

He pauses in thought.

GARTH (CONT’D)

Lightning Slinger, is it too late to change our code names?

The audience’s applause is deafening.

Next clip.

Marla sits before the equally charming, seemingly bubbly, IMRA ARDEEN.

MARLA

Miss Imra Ardeen. Aren’t you just the cutest?

The audience hoots.

IMRA

Well thank you. But you, come on.

MARLA

Oh, you know it. Imra, you can trace your heritage back to the first settlers of Titan. Held in the highest regard by all who come by them, the Ardeens of Saturn’s moon have a legacy of enforcing truth and justice throughout the galaxy. What we all want to know is, what’s in the Saturn-girl’s future?

IMRA

Well, I actually first came to Earth three years ago to join the Earthgov Science Police Academy when I was 18. I really liked all those detective novels as a kid, you know. Anyway, it was actually a really tuff series of courses that was supposed to take four years, so it had me stressed out for a while. I ended up finishing with top honors in just under two years, but the Force still has a 22 year minimum age to join, in addition to the Academy certification. So now here I am. I figured I’d give this a shot, see if it worked out, maybe it’d entertain me a few months, till I hit that age.

MARLA

Ladies and gentlemen the lovely and talented Imra Ardeen!

Unanimous applause.

And the final clip queues.

ROKK KRINN sits in Marla’s hot-seat now. He is obviously uncomfortable being in front of a crowd and camera.

MARLA

Rokk Krinn. The Cosmic Kid.

ROKK

I like the sound of that.

The audience chuckles.

MARLA

Well its true isn’t it. You’re the Rokk Krinn who led the Lightning Beasts to an upset victory when down three points to the previously undefeated Green Dragons in the Magnoball Cosmic Cup of Braal? Thrilling sport by the way.

ROKK

I suppose it is true then.

MARLA

I’ve been to Braal once, a lovely place. The green flower falls, and the hot springs of Moss Beach.

Rokk just nods along.

MARLA (CONT’D)

You must be used to all this though,

the fame and attention that comes from being a sports superstar.

He shrugs and nods again. The air in the room is thick.

MARLA (CONT’D)

Is being a Legionnaire finalist anything like being a Magnoball Champion?

Rokk smirks.

ROKK

Not even in the slightest.

The film clip cuts.

EXT. EARTH ATMOSPHERE

There is only silence in outer space. The Earth’s atmosphere bisects the screen: the blue planet below, and the speckled stars and black void of space above. The scene is still and vacant for a moment, then a shuttle passes overhead for reentry into Earth’s orbit.

INT. SPACE SHUTTLE

The passenger vehicle is dimly lit with red sensor lights and blue holographic displays glowing in the cockpit. In the cargo bay, six passengers strapped to their seats sit patiently as the shuttle begins to shake from turbulence. The copilot comes on the com.

COPILOT

Entry Vehicle Alpha November to Watchtower Luna, approaching drop point on schedule.

Air traffic control responds via radio:

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL (O.S.)

Copy that Alpha November. Earth entry granted in time two minutes and closing.

EXT. EARTH ATMOSPHERE

The front of the shuttle begins to burn bright orange as it nears the planet’s atmosphere. All compartments rattle violently.

INT. SPACE SHUTTLE

Focusing on one specific passenger, Rokk Krinn, as he expresses the nerves felt by all those unfamiliar with orbital reentry. Rokk wears a uniquely stylized version of the space suit worn by the other five passengers; his with black and dark purple coloring, and chrome accents. Keeping his mind distracted from the rocky ride, he juggles several metallic ball-bearings with his mind.

The aircraft loadmaster makes his way through the cargo bay to inspect his passengers. A voice comes over the intercom:

CO-PILOT

Aircrew, prepare for drop-off in time one minute and closing.

The loadmaster waves the six passengers to get ready. They unbuckle their safety belts and stand. With G-forces weighing down on them, they steadily make their way to the back of the shuttle toward the evacuation pods.

Ensuring each of his passengers in safely secured in their pods, the loadmaster signals to the pilots that the cargo is clear for drop.

LOADMASTER

Clear for deployment.

EXT. EARTH ATMOSPHERE

The entire shuttle is now blazing orange as it slices through the atmosphere and across the sky at incredible speed. Massive turbulence rattles the hull, but the heat shields do their job.

INT. SPACE SHUTTLE

Tense, and breathing heavily in his oxygen helmet, Rokk closes his eyes and clenches his jaw in effort to keep calm.

The rumbling stops.

CO-PILOT

Reentry completed. Aircrew prepare to jettison cargo in four, three, two...

Rokk’s eyes open wide.

CO-PILOT (CONT’D)

One.

The pods eject.

EXT. SKYLINE - TWILIGHT

Above the clouds the air is calm and the sky is at its brightest just before the sun sets in the west. Six missile-shaped pods rapidly descend toward the planet’s surface.

CUT TO:

INT. UNITED PLANETS EMBASSY

Over one hundred ambassadors find their seats and twice as many guards keep a sharp eye. There are five seats at the center of the crescent auditorium. In the middle of the five sits the President of Earthgov, next to him, the Ambassador from the Fourth Dimension, Secretary of United Planet Defense, and Acting Chairman of the Federation Inner Security Council, WINEMA WAZZO.

WINEMA

Thank you all for attending this emergency congregation. Please forgive those you could not attend. I am Secretary of Defense Winema Wazzo filling in for Vice President Leland McCauley, as he is currently off planet. First of all I would inform you all that for now negotiations with Planet Baldoor are at a halt. We are currently evacuating all foreign nationals living there.

AMBASSADOR

I don’t think R.J. Brande got the message.

WINEMA

What a private citizen chooses to due in unrestricted space is now his own business, and a reality television completion is not of our concern. The reason we are all here is Daxam.

AMBASSADOR

A planet of Xenophobic fools. If they don’t want Federation help lifting the blockade, then leave them, I say.

WINEMA

Daxam has been completely destroyed. And the fleet of Khundian warships making up that blockade has also vanished without a trace.

AMBASSADOR

How can this be? We were just- No- Destroyed?

WINEMA

Radiation detectors confirmed it. I’ll let Dr. Burroughs explain. He is the astrophysicist from Metropolis University who first detected the anomaly. Doctor.

The doctor approaches the desk.

CUT TO:

INT. AUDITORIUM - TWILIGHT

Trapped and scattered orange and blue sunlight illuminates the white clouds above. Millions cheer in anticipation of the coming show. Millions of specks of artificial light blanket the massive roofless stadium like and electronic garden.

The roaring crowd comes to a hush as the show host makes her way onto the stage, the limelight on her tail.

The tall and beautiful golden-skinned Marla Latham makes her way onto stage. With wavy platinum hair and a scandalous red dress, she greets her audience with a gentle wave of the hand and a broad smile, flashing pearl-white teeth.

MARLA

After tonight only three will remain.

The lights dim.

CUT TO:

EXT. SKYLINE

The six rocketing pods pierce the fluffy cloud banks.

CUT BACK TO:

INT. AUDITORIUM

Pulsing bass and rolling drums slowly increase in volume and tempo.

MARLA

Ladies and gentlemen...

CUT BACK TO:

EXT. SKYLINE

Now through the clouds, the six pods detach their outer hull, followed by a quick deployment of a foil drag chute.

CUT BACK TO:

INT. AUDITORIUM

The crowds stomps and chants to match the beat.

MARLA

Your... Legionnaire... finalists!

CUT BACK TO:

EXT. SKYLINE

Fireworks erupt above the stadium, casting dark silhouettes of six figures in the dim sky. Chutes detached, the sky-divers slow their descent with bursts of air sprouting from backpack and limbs.

CUT BACK TO:

INT. AUDITORIUM

On the stage Marla awaits as the six gently drift down to join her.

Once landed, one of the six steps forward and a white light beams down on her. She removes her helmet to reveal dark hair and pale skin. Tinya Wazzo is innocent beauty embodied in a white-clad twenty-something.

MARLA

The Phantomess!

The next contestant steps forward. Muscular, broad, and tall. He removes his helmet to let shoulder length brown hair fall to his shoulders. Jo Nah wears a red and black suit with a green space-whale logo.

MARLA (CONT’D)

Ultra Boy!

The hulking youth raises his fist into the air. The crowd erupts in thunderous applause.

The third steps into the light. The athletic Luornu Durgo brushes her cropped dark brown hair, and waves gently. She wears a white, purple and orange formfitting spacesuit.

MARLA (CONT’D)

The Dynamic Duo!

She delicately twists her wrist to wave. More applause.

Another boy now steps forward. Garth Ranzz stands tall and slim in a blue and white space suit. He removes his helmet to reveal pasty skin and short curly red hair. Marla introduces him to the fans.

MARLA (CONT’D)

Live Wire!

Garth raises his arms like a champion. The roaring cheer continues.

The shortest of the five now steps forward, and when she removes her helmet it is obvious she’s the youngest. Imra Ardeen. Her pink and white outfit says it all.

MARLA (CONT’D)

Saturn Girl!

The young blonde teenager flashes a heartwarming smile no audience member couldn’t adore. They all cheer.

The sixth and final contestant steps forward. It is Rokk Krinn. He removes his helmet to perfectly coiffed black hair.

MARLA (CONT’D)

and the Cosmic Kid!

Rokk soaks in the re-eruption of applause. He may not have been one for flying, but he is beginning to like this.

The little white lights flash all around the auditorium. Whistles slice the constant roar of cheer. Rokk closes his eyes and lets the sound wash over him like a sun bath.

CUT TO:

INT. UNITED PLANETS EMBASSY

The astrophysicist moves slowly at his desk. Politicians await his interpretation of the spatial anomaly they’ve all been called to discuss. The professor sweats excessively. He clears his throat. He removes a pill from his brief case, and swallows it with a long gulp of water. He clears his throat and gulps.

WINEMA

Doctor?

He wipes away the sweat, clears his throat, and begins to speak. But no words come out. His hand trembles and sweat drips of his brow. His veins begin to glow. Brighter and brighter, until the orange light bursts from his skin and envelopes the room in scorching flame.

CUT BACK TO:

INT. AUDITORIUM

The crowd roars for their Legionnaires. The Legionnaires bask in the glory. A distant explosion rocks the stadium. Off in the distance, and orange cloud of flame erupts from the center of the United Planets capital city.

The lights flicker off and on and the crowd, now panicked, scrambles to find what the problem is. Rokk looks around now at the chaos in the auditorium. The lights go out.

EXT. OUTER SPACE

Amongst the speckled darkness of space is a planet. One side is brown, dusty, with only patches of murky blue. The other is lush and green, with webs of bright blue rivers running throughout.

CAPTION

Planet: Braal.

Four months earlier…

INT. MAGNOBALL ARENA - DAY

The audience comes alive as the two teams take the field. A purple team, and a green team. The scoreboard reads Cosmic Cup of Braal, Halftime, Lightning Beasts: 1, Green Dragons: 4.

Rokk Krinn joins his purple team in their positions. He sees his team beaten and hopeless. He sees his mom, EWA, and his brother, POL, in the audience, cheering him on anyway. The referees signal the second half to begin.

Using their magnetic abilities, the two teams battle for the magno balls; pushing and pulling, attracting and repelling the metal spheres. Rokk breaks loose after a quick pass and soon enough slings two of the balls into the goal past the defender, his team is suddenly re-inspired.

In a dazzling comeback victory, the underdog Lightning Beasts win 5 to 4. The audience is in equal shock of joy and disappointment. One Mafioso-looking man in the shadow of a skybox looks especially displeased.

INT. TUNNEL

As the players make their way back to the locker room, fans held back by iron bars hoot and holler for their favorite players. Rokk walks on by reservedly despite the rush of victory.

A fan calls his name. Then another. And another. It is now a chant. Rokk! Krinn! Rokk! Krinn! The fans stretch their arms as far as the gates will allow. Rokk moves to the side and watches in wonder. Halting his exit he raises a hand to reach his adoring fans.

A lash quickly bats his arm out of the way. A hulking security guard looms over Rokk.

SECURITY GUARD

Keep moving, magnite. You know the rules. No talking. No Touching.

Rokk unhappily continues his march to the lockers.

INT. LOCKER ROOM

Players stand in line for payout. Those that have received it change clothes and hit the showers. Rokk is next in line for pay.

The desk ahead is piled with overflowing stacks of round coins and square chips. Tens, if not, hundreds of thousands of them. Behind the desk the paymaster hands out coins to each player one at a time.

When it is Rokk’s turn, he receives two small coins

PAYMASTER

Fine show today, Krinn. How does a bonus sound?

He hands Rokk an extra coin.

PAYMASTER (CONT’D)

That’s a 50 percent wage boost. And don’t you forget how generous I can be.

Rokk smirks in an effort to force a smile of gratitude, then turns to retreat to the lockers.

EXT. BRAALIAN STREETS (THE POOR SIDE) - EVENING

Outside the arena, a gust of wind kicks up orange dust. Players and staff congregate and separate, some wait at shuttle stop to take them home to the ghettos. Others walk home to their scrap metal huts that speckle the dry desert plains.

Rokk walks home slowly with his bag over his shoulder, moving along the massive stone wall that divides the rich from the poor. The Arena is the only place where those two intercede.

The other side may be plush and green and full of wondrous vistas, but Rokk would never know. He walked home in dirt.

Head down and trudging on, Rokk hardly gives a glance up when a long, sleek, black Hover-car pulls up to his side. The window rolls down. A man’s voice calls out from inside. Gruff, yet refined. The voice of RENE JACQUES BRANDE.

BRANDE

Fine game today, kid. I thought it was lost.

Rokk ignores him.

BRANDE (CONT’D)

Can I give you a lift perhaps?

Still no answer.

BRANDE (CONT’D)

I could use some exercise then.

The car stops to a hover. Rokk keeps moving.

Brande steps out of the stretch ride in fine attire. A matching suit and waistcoat, green velvet, with pants that cover his feet like a baby’s pajamas. A brute of a man steps out behind him in similar matte black attire. A bodyguard no doubt. Rich folk are always suspicious.

Brande starts walking to catch up and the car keeps pace. After a few yards, the convoys stops when Rokk turns to face the rich-man.

ROKK

Look, I told you I’m not your guy! I said from the beginning

I wasn’t going to throw that no match,

and if you come anywhere near me or my family I’ll-

Rokk all of the sudden realizes he doesn’t know the man who he’s facing. He’s puzzled.

ROKK (CONT’D)

I don’t know you.

BRANDE

R.J. Brande. Pleased to meet you Rokk Krinn.

Rokk doesn’t offer any welcoming gesture.

BRANDE (CONT’D)

You don’t recognize me?

ROKK

Should I? What’s the deal with the clown suit? Where are you from?

Now Brande is puzzled.

BRANDE

Why, Earth, of course.

ROKK

Earth?

BRANDE

Head of the United Planets Federation.

ROKK

United Planets?

BRANDE

The intergalactic alliance to which Braal- your home planet- is currently a standing member. Going on 400 years now.

ROKK

I don’t know my histories too well. How do you speak Braalian?

BRANDE

The same way I speak many languages.

ROKK

Right, look I have to get back, and something tells me quickly. Good day, Sir.

BRANDE

Your family is safe Rokk. And you can call me R.J.

ROKK

What do you mean my family is safe? What’s going on here?

Rokk summons four metal spheres from his bag and they swirl around him aggressively.

BRANDE

You were supposed to lose that match today. The Boss owns the team. The boss doesn’t ask.

ROKK

What’s it to you?

BRANDE

The Boss had a large sum of money riding a guarantee. And when you didn’t deliver...

ROKK

If you’ve harmed one hair on them I’ll-

BRANDE

I took the initiative of sending some of my personal guards to see to your mother and brother’s continued safety.

Rokk calms a bit but remains defensive.

BRANDE (CONT’D)

I have a proposition for you. I’ve crossed the ocean of space to meet you, Rokk Krinn.

I’ve searched 179 planets in 96 galaxies to find 24 exceptional young people. You are one of them.

Rokk lowers his guard.

ROKK

I don’t understand.

BRANDE

My plane leaves tomorrow morning, along with all of my guards. Come with me, I’ll pay off that gangster scum, and you and your mother and your little brother will never have to come back here again. Or you can stay, I’ll pay they mob boss anyway. But why would you want to stay, when there is a whole universe out there to explore? Maybe even more than one.

Brande returns to his hover-car. Before the he pulls away he adds:

BRANDE (CONT’D)

Launch Pad One. Off paradise skyway. 8:00 am. You’ve been there?

Rokk stares.

BRANDE (CONT’D)

Thought not. My men will help you through the gates.

Rokk watches as the car drifts away. Then continues home.

EXT. SHUTTLE LAUNCH PORT - MORNING

The sun has barely cast its light on Braal, but the spotlights and guide lamps illuminate the launch pads just the same. Rokk had watched the ships take off and land many times before. Although with the miles and miles of wire and barricades and sentries and towers- not to mention the hundred foot stone divider- it never seemed reachable. Now, for some reason, that had all changed.

Rokk, his mother Ewa, and his younger brother Pol are escorted out of a hovering vehicle and ushered toward a secure gate. There the guards flash badges and the gates open for them.

They all move past the doors and into a rapid transport shuttle. The doors close and the car races off to the loading bay.

EXT. LAUNCH PAD - MORNING

R.J. Brande stands before an enormous private space shuttle no more flamboyant that yesterday’s wardrobe, and only less so than today’s.

BRANDE

Greetings! Greetings Krinn family! A beautiful day to start our adventure, wouldn’t you say?

Ewa, Pol, come inside. We have comfortable seats and fine food. Anything you need.

Rokk, come along, we are ready to launch.

The Krinn family gawks at the impressive ship.

EWA

Who are you Mister Brande?

BRANDE

R.J. Please. And I, amongst other things, am an industrialist, philanthropist, ambassador of good will, perhaps most famously the inventor of the Microstar- the sun than fits in your pocket- and, according to this morning’s tallies, still the rich man in the known universe.

Rokk glances at his mother with uncertainty, then looks down to give his brother a warm smile. They all enter the shuttle.

INT. BRANDE’S PRIVATE SPACE SHUTTLE

Everyone finds their seat and buckles in. The main cabin alone is the largest, most decadent palace Rokk has every beheld. It makes him uneasy.

BRANDE

Don’t worry kid, these things are safe. Perfected by yours truly.

If that put Rokk at ease, it doesn’t show.

The pilot makes his announcement over the intercom.

PILOT

All aboard, cargo loaded and passengers secure.

Route calculated for destination code Mercury-Weber-Trantor.

Lift off in one minute and counting.

Rokk leans over to Brande.

ROKK

I thought you said we were going to Earth?

BRANDE

Not yet my boy. First we have to stop off at my private planetoid. Meet up with the rest of the crew and contestants. We’ll do a few interviews, film some promotionals, sign some papers, run some physicals, even do a little basic training. A boot camp is what we call it on Earth.

ROKK

What contestants?

Brande lets out a hauling laugh.

BRANDE

That’s right! You know, it just occurred to me that you are the only one to have made it this far without asking exactly how far it is we are going. That shows ambition kid, no mistake about it. But also lack of focus. That I will teach you.

ROKK

That doesn’t answer the question.

Brande laughs again.

BRANDE

How far indeed? We’ll make something of you yet Rokk Krinn.

The captain comes back on the intercom and announces take-off in ten seconds and counting.

EXT. BRANDE’S PRIVATE PLANETOID - AFTERNOON

Once arrived, the party steps out and unpacks their cargo.

BRANDE

Welcome to my clubhouse! Artificial air, artificial gravity. A real good time!

Rokk admires the mansion, the trees, the open fields, and a sky lit be the brightest colored stars he’d ever seen.

BRANDE (CONT’D)

My men will get your family settled in their quarters. Rokk, come we must get you situated,

we have much and more to do and little time left to us.

Rokk and Brande are soon met be VAL ARMORR, a slim and muscular young man.

VAL

Welcome back Mr. Brande. This must be Rokk Krinn.

BRANDE

The one and only. Rokk this here is Val Armorr. Head of our security and the

ten time reigning combat champion of Earth. Master of every known

form of combat known to humanoid kind. Class 15 fighter. None better.

He’ll also be you drill instructor over the next few weeks. You’ll get to know him well.

ROKK

Nice to meet you.

VAL

Likewise. I am a big fan of your Magnoball playing style.

I look forward to seeing what you can do here.

Brande moves Rokk along to the planetoid’s main building.

INT. CLUBHOUSE

Making his way through the main hall, Rokk admires the scenery. This time it’s the diverse faces that catch his eye. Humans, humanoids, insectoids. Short, giant, orange-skinned, blue-skinned. A world he’d never imagined all in one house. Dozens of unrecognizable languages join to a dull roar.

He stops abruptly when he spots a pretty young blonde, with eyes like a full moon. It is Imra Ardeen. As she passes he attempts to form a sentence, but the words choke in his throat. She looks at him, smiles, and says something he cannot understand.

His mouth hangs open as she walks on. Brande chuckles.

BRANDE

I think it’s time we fitted you for a translator. Come.

ROKK

What did she say?

BRANDE

Pink.

Rokk scratches his head.

INT. OUTFITTING QUARTERS

The room is cluttered with contraptions. LYLE NORG sits at a desk fiddling. His assistant, TI’JULK MR’ASZ, a black-blue segmented insectoid with thirty legs and twenty arms, fiddles with a gadget.

BRANDE

Dr. Norg, Mr. Mr’asz, hook this mamajama up with a CommRing ASAP.

LYLE

You got it J.R.

ROKK

Norg and…Mraj is it?

TI’JULK MR’ASZ

T’ck t’ck.

Rokk is confused.

BRANDE

Ti’julk Mr’asz is a funny little guy, keeps our tinkerer here distracted plenty. Isn’t that right?

TI’JULK MR’ASZ

T’ck t’ck.

LYLE

He said it R.J.

BRANDE

Nah I’m just foolin’. Lyle Norg here is some sort of kid prodigy. 10th level intelligence.

Expert in Xenochemistry, astrophysics, quantum physics,

and probably every other physics you can think of. Smartest human I know.

LYLE

That’s right. Okay my man, listen up. This is your translator. It will be your universal communicator. It will send and receive audio and video. It will make your eyes and ears our eyes and ears. Did you sign the papers?

ROKK

Yes.

Lyle looks to Brande.

LYLE

Did he sign the papers?

Brande nods confirmation.

LYLE

Good. Then hear you go. Do not break it do not lose it. You will find yourself lost in a wide world of strange tongues if you do not have this to keep in contact. At all times, remember. It’s in the contract.

Rokk clips the ring around his ear and is startled by all the new sensory feed he initially takes in.

TI’JULK MR’ASZ

You humanoids make the strangest faces.

Rokk and Brande continue the orientation.

INT. HALLWAY

Leaving the quartermasters office, from down the hall Rokk spots the most stunning woman he has ever seen. Long wavy Platinum hair and bronzed skin. She’d have stood shorter than Rokk if it weren’t for her foot-long curved heels. Marla Latham in her tight red dress.

MARLA

Hey Reggie! And who’s this handsome young man?

Up close, Rokk can see the wrinkles of caked-on make-up.

BRANDE

Marla Latham, this is Rokk Krinn. Mango-ball super-star of the planet Braal.

Rokk, this is our lovely and talented show-host, Marla Latham.

ROKK

Hi.

MARLA

Isn’t he a charmer? Nice to meet you Rokk. Good luck out there.

She gives him a light kiss on the cheek and sways here hips back and forth as she leave. He waits until she turns the corner to wipe the bronze smudge off his cheek.

INT. CONTROL ROOM

The blacked out room glows with the blue light of dozens of holographic projected screens. In the center stands one green-skinned man, VRIL DOX.

VRIL

How may I be of assistance to Rene Jacques Brande and Rokk Krinn of Braal?

BRANDE

Just finishing off the tour Vril. Don’t let us bother you.

Vril Dox does not seem bothered. He seems to be paying attention to every display at once, but not one specifically.

They turn and leave him to his studies.

BRANDE (CONT’D)

Vril Dox. We call him Brainiac. 12th level intelligence. Puts any human to shame really. Off the charts in memory storage and recollection, calculation, and technical aptitude. Multi-tasks like a mother. He pretty much runs our little operation here.

ROKK

He looks busy.

BRANDE

I doubt he ever feels that way. Alas, the evening is drawing to an end and I have more work to attend, I shall let you retire to your family for supper. Rest well Rokk Krinn, roll call at 0700. Tomorrow the fun begins.

INT. LOBBY

The clubhouse lobby is more suited for a grand ball, but serves well as a waiting room for the patients and impatient contestants. The morning is already busy.

CAPTION

R O L E C A L L

The room is packed with nurses and attendants, dozens of technicians, and 24 contestants. No one is slow this morning.

Vril Dox emerges from the double doors that everyone awaits to pass through.

VRIL

Ladies and gentlemen, the physical examinations will soon begin to determine the categories,

extent, and limitations of each of your abilities. At this time I would like to remind you

that if anyone’s abilities are revealed to be derived from technological sources,

they will be immediately removed from the competition.

Garth whispers to Imra and Rokk.

GARTH

I heard they banned techies because some poor Earthling burnt all his hair off when his flight belt malfunctioned.

VRIL

I would also ask that you refrain from speaking to one another until such time as your own examination and registration has been completed. This will take most of the day, so please be patient, have a seat, and remain silent. Doctor Lyle Norg and Ti’julk Mr’asz will see each of you in due time. Thank you all.

With Vril Dox’s departure not a word is said. Everyone is uncertain enough as it is, and none venture to disobey the director; save the two guys, THOM KALLOR and DIRK MORGNA, chuckling behind a plump boy, CHUCK TAINE.

INT. EXAMINATION ROOM

Lyle Norg and Ti’julk Mr’asz conduct the physicals. Montage begins.

Rokk Krinn of Braal presses and pulls against magnetic resistance.

Garth Ranzz of Winath grasps a conductor and charges it with electricity.

Imra Ardeen of Titan sits with round metal nodes attached to her temples.

LYLE

Most Earthlings’ mental capacity operates at an 8th or 9th level intelligence, which is not bad considering as a society we were only at level six one thousand years ago. Titans for the most part are also level nine. However, it is not so much your intelligence that interests me.

Imra gives a look.

LYLE (CONT’D)

What I mean to say...is that it is at level nine that, given the right environmental conditions, we may begin to see signs of low-level telepathic abilities in some meta-gene active humans: such as, picking up stray thoughts, emotional rapport, even pushing suggestions into other peoples’ minds. Saturn’s moon of Titan is a prime example of the right conditions for cultivating these phenomena. Over the centuries, ancestors of the original settlers continued to be exposed to cosmic radiations, and passed on through the generations, what we end up with is essentially a more evolved human. You Imra, have synaptic readings unlike any telepath I have ever studied, or even heard about.

Tinya Wazzo of Bgtzl passes her arm through a solid steel wall.

Playfully coy Luornu Durgo of Cargg disrobes and begins some sort of multi-cellular mitosis, splitting into two identical copies. Lyle is part disgusted part aroused by the nude and slimy twins standing before him: shy Luorna, and flirty Luorni.

Jo Nah of Rimbor studies an eye chart, breathes into a tube, gets his knees hammered, gets his head hammered, runs a treadmill, and lifts weights.

LYLE (CONT’D)

Ultra-vision, ultra-strength, ultra-speed, ultra-stamina and ultra-invulnerability. I have to ask, where’s the ultra-flight?

JO NAH

What do you mean?

LYLE

Seems like it should be part of the package, doesn’t it? Have you ever tried?

JO NAH

No.

LYLE

Well, go ahead.

Jo Nah closes his eyes and concentrates. When he opens them and looks down, he’s hovering a foot off the ground.

JO NAH

Holy Haystacks! I can fly?

LYLE

We’ll test the limits outdoors. Since you only seem to be able to access one of these ultra-powers at a time, you’ll want to keep it under 200 mph, so your skin doesn’t rip off.

THOM KALLOR of Xanthu lifts and lowers a graviton ball, which resist his gravity manipulation powers with a force equal to that inflicted upon it. The room’s walls and ceiling are left cracked.

TASMIA MALLOR of Talok 8 takes a sensory wire probe with her as she moves through the shadows in the room like they were open windows.

The plump CHUCK TAINE of Bismoll gets poked and pricked and pinched. He doesn’t seem to notice. Lyle looks at his chart.

LYLE (CONT’D)

How’s the weather on Bismoll this time of year?

CHUCK

Abysmal.

They both laugh. Lyle taps Chuck’s knee with a small hammer and the impact is reflected, shooting the hammer out Lyle’s hand.

LYLE

Good reflexes. And how’s the gravity here treating here you so far?

CHUCK

Not too bad. Mild headaches here and there.

LYLE

Well you look good.

They both smile.

LYLE (CONT’D)

Take one of these every 48 hours. Let me know if they get any worse.

SALU DIGBY of Imsk shrinks down to a microscopic size.

DIRK MORGNA of Phlon stands in front of pane of ceramic tiles, then begins to glow, radiating a heat that soon overwhelms and melts the nearby equipment.

GIM ALLON of Mars, six feet tall walks into the room. Lyle glances quickly at his chart.

LYLE (CONT’D)

I wasn’t aware of any Meta-gene actives born on Mars in the past few decades.

GIM

I wasn’t born on Mars, sir. My parents vacationed there a few years back and fell in love with the place. Been there almost 20 years now.

LYLE

I see. I also see that your Meta-human trait allows you to shrink to twenty percent your normal size. Now, we already have a shrinker, and I can tell you she can go a lot smaller than one and a half feet.

GIM

Sir?

LYLE

Hell, I didn’t fill the roster. Go ahead then, let’s see what you can do.

GIM

Sir?

LYLE

Please stop calling me that. Go ahead, shrink.

GIM

I am, sir. I mean, I am.

LYLE

You are...?

Lyle looks down to double-check his patient’s charts.

LYLE (CONT’D)

How tall are you, normally?

GIM

30 feet, one and a half inches. With my boots off.

I.Z.O.R. of Linsnar morphs his/her/its techno-organic body into a variety of mechanical shapes.

BRIN LONDO of Zuun, the man beast, sniffs some powders, bites down on a pressure sensor, and listens to headphones, occasionally raising one hand or the other.

DAWN LONESTAR of Kwai Haven, with her grey skin and dragon fly wings, is blindfolded, yet still able to identify the proximity of several lit beacons.

ANDREW NOLAN, a meta-gene-active human of Earth, turns his skin to steel. Ti’julk smashes him with a sledge hammer as Lyle records the results.

JEKA WYNZZORR of Orando is a tan skin beauty with red tribal tattoos all along her body. But Lyle isn’t buying it. He raises and eyebrow and she shrugs in defeat. The illusion vanishes to reveal her true form as a giant serpent creature, gold and red scales, and stubby two stubby little arms.

ARRAH ARLIK of Trom transmutes some metal into another metal.

MYSA NURA of Naltor touches her antennae to a deck of cards then calls out all 52 as they are flipped.

JAZMINE CULLEN of Antares II scoops up some equipment in her stasis field the makes it reappear somewhere else.

JENNI OGNATS of Aarok runs on a treadmill at super speed.

CANDI Le PARC of Pyponte 3, the hulking orange skinned monstress, lifts an enormous amount of weight.

TROY STEWART from the Marzal Islands of Brigadoon lets loose a hyper-sonic scream directed at a giant tuning fork.

BLOK of Dryad, the volcanic man, sprays lava out of his black crater-like pores blanketing the room in liquid magma. Luckily the suits worn by Lyle and Ti’julk have built in force fields, protecting them from any harm.

INT. CLUBHOUSE COMMON ROOM

After the examinations, the contestants either congregate into cliques or separate and head back to their dorms.

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ImpurestCheese

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@agent00evan: Interesting story but the script form you've written it in works against you in two ways.

Firstly it makes the chapter feel very long, which means you need to work extra hard to keep the reader interested. Secondly writing a story as a script reduces the exposition and emotion of a tale. Whereas narrative (as long as you write it well) maintains and enhances it.

Just to be clear there is nothing wrong with the content you have written it's more how you've set it out.