Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

Thanks! . . . I think.

Anyway, I'm nearly done planning out the chapters of "Hat's Off", loosely based of a couple episodes of "Darkwing Duck".

Now, another chapter. Four more to go.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Might and Mercy

Cloak stood, fully and deliberately exposed, waiting for this Predator to show up. Cloak was not looking with his eyes, that was foolish. He was seeing though his feet, through the ground.

No matter how refined their camouflaging technology, it cannot, simply cannot, mask their heavy footsteps. And each footstep provided a vibration the ground.

Even the trees weren't a viable option to escape this, as they would surely sway or rustle ever so slightly, alerting the RAFian Realm Walker's acute feline hearing.

It is not an easy task to sneak up on a RAFians, and a Realm Walker and Elements Master, at that.

"Cut the oogie-boogey crap," Cloak said, the minute he Earthsighted that the Predator was closeby. "I know your there, and I don't really care whether or not you can understand me. You cannot hunt me."

The camouflage of the Predator fell. Cloak had suspected that Realm Walkers were inherently omnilinguistic, although with a few limits and provisos. There was literally no literature on the subject.

"Your cloak will make a fine trophy," he said, not commiting to any pretense.

"You actually think you can kill me?" Cloak scoffed. "That proves just little you know of my kind, l--"

Cloak was about to say "loser", but stopped, having bad associations and memories with the word.

"Prepare to die."

"Don't challenge me," Cloak warned, "it won't end well for you."

"Such bravado," the Predator said.

"Please," Cloak said, almost pleading, "don't force my hand."

But the Predator charged forward to attack, which Cloak managed to Earthsight a split-second before it happened. Cloak easily damged it and touched the Predator's mask, deliberately distorting it so it no longer fit properly.

"That could have been worse," Cloak warned. "Yield, and we can abandon this fruitless exercise."

"Stop holding back! You'll ruin this hunt!"

"You can't kill me, you fool! Only another of my kind can!"

"Lies!" he spat. "Show me your full might!"

"Fine," Cloak said, "you really did ask for it."

Cloak unleashed his full power, but this was only for show. He slammed the Predator between two slabs of earth. The Predator fell, but alive.

"F-f-finish it," he begged. "Kill m-me . . ."

"No," Cloak said immediately. "Learn from your mistakes. Live another life."

Then he turned and walked away, after declaring, "We're done here."

This Predator did the same as its brethren and took his own life. Cloak suspected that he might.

[Underseen]

This is a good book

[Cloak]

Thanks. Just three more chapters to go. So, unless, my internet gets spotty . . .

Anyway, a brief chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Back to the Center

The six RAFians trudged back to the center of old RAF, all having deactivated and destroyed the distress beacons.

"Aquilai, what is that?" Gaz said, Laserbeak on her shoulder, leering at the helmet-mask-things Aquilai carried.

"One of their helmets," he answered.

<You know there could be a tracking chip in there.> Noelle pointed out.

"It's deactivated," Aquilai replied defensively.

"You're getting as bad as Yarin," Cloak said, "hording tech and all."

"I'm not hording," Aquilai argued, "I'm going to --"

"Study it, and reverse engineer the tech?" Cloak asked rhetorically, in a toneless expressionless way. Then he waved Aquilai's response away, he really didn't care one way or another. "Let's just get back to the forum, I've had enough of this for one day."

But then that's when the ship appeared, decending ever so slowly, ever so slightly.

"Oh, just lovely." Cloak facepalmed.

Aquilai quickly ditched the helmet as he said, "The mothership?"

<I'd say that's a fair assessment,> Noelle said.

"What do they want with us? I didn't kill my Predator." Underseen said.

"Neither did I," Parker said, "Though he really . . . oh, shut up Tyr."

<I, too, spared mine,> Noelle said.

"Me too," Gaz said as Laserbeak squawked, as if to corroborate her story.

"I . . . just took mine's helmet, I swear!" Aquilai confessed.

"Cloak?" Underseen prompted.

"I showed mercy," he replied stiffly.

[Underseen]

I don't feel too good about this ship.

[Cloak]

Don't be surprised ifnyou get thrown for a loop then, in the next chapter. Tomorrow, probably. Sorry, but I grow tired.

[Gaz]

Very exciting! I shall be on the edge of my seat.

[Cloak]

Well, we're two chapters from the end of this book, and actually twelve books away from fifty ("L") books, where something'll probably happen to Itellsya, I believe.

Now, a new chapter.

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Respect Dismissed

The door of the ship opened and the gangplank steps came down. The Predators aboard seemed to wait for the RAFians to come on in. Cloak had a rather "Mars Attacks!" feeling about the whole situation.

Not one of the six moved. After all these guys put them through, they actually expected them to cowtow to their whims? Really?

<We're not going in, you arrogant sacks of Taxxon manure,> Noelle snarled. <You get your skinny butts out here. You're on this planet illegally.>

This bravado was something considering how tired they were. Suddenly, a procession of the Predators decended the gangplank stairs. The "Mars Attacks!" feeling seemingly intensified. They each were carrying shield-like items that each heavily resembled a ceratopsian frill.

Then they offered the frills to the RAFians as a sign of . . . respect?

The RAFians were rendered speechless at this. Even Laserbeak, who sometimes had a problem of never shutting up.

Cloak felt outrage. He glared up at the procession, all looking a little miffed for the fact that the RAFians weren't accepting their great gifts, their signs of respect.

"You actually, honestly believe we'd accept your meaningless TRINKETS? Aftwr what you did? Hunting us, not for food, but for SPORT?! For TROPHIES?!" Cloak raged. Golden-scarlet waves of energy pulsated away from his body, and the Predator backed away. And Cloak wasn't the only one miffed.

"Get lost," Underseen snarled.

"Run away," Aquilai suggested, "and never return."

"Earth is off-limits," Gaz said, pointing Laserbeak, who deftly assumed gun mode, at them.

<Do not make us have force you off,> Noelle glowered, <we've shown just about the limits of our mercy. . . .>

"And we proven that you guys aren't really a threat to us." Parker said practically.

The Predator procession looked a bit shocked at this. As if a couple of dismembered shields would pacify them. The Predators lingered, and Cloak raised a pulsating hand.

"Wanna push your luck any further, pal?" he threatened. He would not feel aggrieved about this particular action.

They went into their ship, withdrew the staired gangplank, and hovered up. They hesitated a bit, as if wondering to fire their energy weapons. . . .

[redtailedsaffa]

... and then, they offered everyone cheese and crackers and yelled "Happy New Year!"

[Cloak]

Lol, Saffa. Sorry, nope.

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Nightmares and Dares

Cloak stood apart from the others, taking the stance he would usually take to redirect energy. If they had any relevant, coherent data on his abilities, they would know that using energy weapons against him were not the best of ideas.

They seemed to weigh their options. Seeing the amount of payoff there was.

They fired the ships weapons. Cloak redirected them, winging their ship. He did not destroy it, otherwise, they'd be stranded on Earth. And that was undesirable.

Cloak hoped that now that these supposedly-great hunters would be able to take a hint -- they were easily outmatched by any reasonably-trained RAFian.

After a few tenuous moments, the Predator ship turned and left Earth's atmosphere, hopefully, to never return.

"Well," Cloak sighed heavily, "I think it's safe to say that we're done here."

"Totally," Underseen agreed.

***

Cloak was clinging to the side of a sheer cliff, all five of his sharp, black claws dug into the side of the cliff.

"Uncle . . . !"

Shadow was sliding down the side. His hand was outstretched towards his little Shadow. He did not question why she wasn't using her Mastery over the Elements, nor did he question why he wasn't.

"Ah!" Cloak winced. He looked up and saw his mother, Ursa, had buried her ursine claws into his hand.

"Trust me . . . son. . . ." she said in an inhumanly hoarse and wispy manner.

"Uncle . . . help me . . ."

"Shadow . . ." Cloak muttered.

"Hah!" Ursa said, throwing Cloak off the cliff and into oblivion. . . .

***

"HAH!" Cloak exclaimed as he awoke with a start. He sat up, kicked his legs over the side of his bed, and put his head in his hands, with his tail curled close to his body, only the tip twitching.

"I guess I haven't gotten as over this, as I thought," he told himself quietly. He felt hollow, as if the void Shadow's absence left was just more noticeable, and somehow deeper.

Cloak sighed heavily. Then he got dressed and put on the black cloak that had become his iconic one. Then he went out into the forum.

[redtailedsaffa]

I miss Shadow.

[Cloak]

How you think I feel, Saffa? It's been nearly a year since I've seen her (and I swear my mother was deliberately depriving me from seeing her -- the same mother that gave me PTSD after I left).

But you've come for the chapters. Here, let's start the next book.

BOOK XXXVIII:
PROTEAN PROBLEM
CHAPTER ONE:
Insult Insulation

"C'mon, Cloakclucker --" said an incredibly inept insult monster. It had the power to turn insults into tangible damage, and could be a real threat . . . if it wasn't so uncreative.

"Really?" Cloak taunted. "That's the best you got?"

This monster resembled the monster "Bugaboo" from "Scary Godmother" and the mascot of "Monster.com" fused together only with smaller lips, more prominent tail, thinner sharper teeth, and thicker limbs.

"Don't criticize my craft, Cloak-For-Brains." it snarled. The most power that caused was like the weakest, most limp-wristed slap.

"Your craft?" Sakki piped up. "Then one would expect you to be -- oh, I dunno -- good at it."

"Must you taunt the monster?" Saffa asked, teasingly. "You might make it cry."

"Hey! I am supposed to be doing insulting here!" it whined.

"Yeah," Faerie acknowledged nonconcernedly, "badly."

It was at this point that Cloak noticed the monster was getting smaller.

"Stop it!"

"Why? Can't handle your own medicine, pal?" Gaz said. "That why you're hanging around schoolyards?"

It shrank some more.

"Quit it!"

"Why?" Cloak said, scornfully. "It's not like you're really a threat."

It shrank to the size of a housecat.

"Clearly, you can dish it out " Saffa observed passively, "but you clearly cannot take it."

POP!

It shrank so much, it blipped from existence. It was gone.

"Pity it can't always be so easy," Faerie said, sipping her drink.

[redtailedsaffa]

I'd be lying if I didn't mention the first thing the title reminded me of is the Proteas - the name for the South African national cricket team!

Anyway, on topic. This sounds fun.

[Cloak]

Actually it came from "Proteus" -- and I really cannot say more than that right now.

Internet spotty right now. Try to post more later.

CHAPTER TWO:
Cylinder X

Deep within a government site -- widely rumored to be Area 15, Area 6, Area  4, Area 5, or Area 51, in any matter, it was inconsequential and immaterial -- where a canister, a cylinder, of an amalgam and alloy of N^th metal, vibranium, and admantium held within it a very dangerous creature. Possibly more dangerous than the brute force of the Pootang.

But this creature was sapient, made of yellow energy. It was kept under lock and key because of the trouble it caused over twenty years ago, when a radical splinter government group created it.

Itellsya used his psychometry to discover this, and reported it to Malice.

Malice penetrated the defenses with ruthless and laughable ease. She came to the canister easily taking it for her own.

"So, this is the great 'Cylinder X'?" Malice sneered. "Somehow, it looks rather unimpressive."

She examined the canister impassively, and unimpressed.

"Interesting alloy," she commented. "The adamantium makes it unbreakable to brute force. The vibratium guards from sound-based attempts to open it, while the N^th metal guards from energy projected trauma."

She patted the canister with her other hand. "Very thorough. Mundane to the naked eye, but rather well thought out when examined more closely. Well thought out indeed."

Suddenly, a guard by the name of PFC X. Pendabel came in and saw Malice fondling Cylinder X.

"What are you doing --" the guard said.

Malice, with a gesture and not bothering to look up, used her energy to kill the twenty-something. She held no remorse for the slaying.

"For a creature of such danger, with so many precautions built into its prison," Malice said, "one would think that they wouldn't have made it a pop-top."

Malice popped the top effortlessly, and it was like a tear gas bomb.

Suddenly, a hulking, nine-foot figure of pure yellow psionic energy came forth.

"Hello, Proteus," Malice said. "How's things?"

[Underseen]

Why would it be made of all sorts of powerful metals and basically be a soda can holding a giant made of energy.

[Cloak]

You're gonna find out in Chapter 17, I think, Unseen.

But I'll say that it wasn't in the canister's designer's originally design, but the idea of someone with too much authoritive power and too little common sense.

Ugh, clearly, this neighbor of mine hasn't an "in-door" voice. Someone really should tell him that yelling hardly eer gets your point across.

Anyway, another chapter.

CHAPTER THREE:
Alarming and Unleashed

Yarin was passively, but intently watching the sensors and communications. It had become a rather regular ritual for him.

Then he shut all six of his eyes, holding his head. He was sensing a telepathic disturbance. A powerful disturbance.

It took him a moment to gain control and probe further . . . Eventually seeing Proteus . . . a confused mind, a teenaged mind . . . he saw him standing with Malice, whose mind was unreadable, due to her being a Realm Walker.

Then Proteus noticed his telepathic probe and easily forced Yarin away.

Yarin opened his eyes knowing the implications of what this meant. He left the communications tower, to gather the other RAFians, veterans, yearlings, half-yearlings, newbies -- the whole kit and kaboodle.

***

"Why do you want to know?" Proteus said. His voice wasn't big, deep, reverberating at all. It sounded like an ordinary teenager. Male. "Why free me?"

"Oh, no reason, really," Malice said. "Just thought you'd liven things up a bit."

"You want something. . . . But I . . ."

"Can't read my mind?" Malice replied conversationally. "Ah, don't worry about it. My kind are telepathy-proof. Oh, and we aren't affected by your little reality-warping power either."

Her tone turned crisp. "Now, unless you want to be crammed back into your little home for another twenty years or so, you'd make good an escape."

Proteus took in what she had said.

"Tick-tock, Proteus, tick-tock." Malice prompted.

That's when Sergeant C. Fodder stepped into the room. Proteus thought no more, and quickly jumped into him, the only giveaway was the glowing yellow eyes. He could not only access Fodder's mind, but his memories, his emotions, his every nuance, like a Yeerk, but to a much greater degree.

"There!" Malice said, gregariously. "You have your disguise and you'll be on the mainland before you know it!"

She gave a highly exaggerated curtsey, and Walked away, as Proteus masqueraded as Fodder to get back to the island.