posted March 12, 2001 08:43 AM ��� ���� �� ��

12, March 3007
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I can�t believe it�s been almost five years since the LMB disbanded. White Twilight took its toll on all of us. The kids...I can�t help but still think of them as kids...have all gone their separate ways. Five years. Seems like only yesterday that it all began.

It all started with E.J. Brande, billionaire industrialist. �Engine Joe� they called him, mostly because he created the first operational warp-drive engine, which made deep-space travel practical, and made Brande Industries billions. Brande�s warp-drive made interstellar trade possible on a massive scale.

It also made interplanetary wars possible. With so many worlds suddenly within reach of each other, problems were inevitable. So, Brande, taking responsibility for a problem that his warp drive helped create, spearheaded the campaign for interstellar unity. He was probably the only one who could have made it happen. He had the drive, the ambition, and most importantly, the credits to see it through. Brande chaired the first Conference for Interstellar Commerce. The conference planted the seed of a governing body, which eventually evolved into The United Planets.

But the warp-drive wasn�t the only reason the �Engine Joe� nickname was hung upon him. It was his personality. His �take no prisoners� attitude. In life, as in the boardroom, E.J. Brande just didn�t know how to take �no� for an answer. When Brande got rolling, he was like an old-time freight train. You either got out of his way, or got ground under his wheels. I once watched his stare down the entire U.P. Council to win a debate over mining rights on Rexil VI.

posted March 12, 2001 08:45 AM ��� ���� �� ��

E.J. called me into his office. It seems there had been a break in at one of his warehouses. �Ordinarily,� he said, �I�d just let the S.P.�s and the insurance adjustors work it out, but this wasn�t just any warehouse that was broken into. This one houses my private collection. The S.P.�s said nothing was taken, but I want you to go down there and have a look for me.�

So, off I went to inventory Brande�s collection. Collection of what, I had no idea. Rich old man like that, I thought, could be into anything. But, I didn�t ask a lot of questions where Brande was concerned. Just do what he asked, and everything would be okay. When I arrived at the warehouse, I was pleasantly surprised. Brande�s collection was of 20th and 21st Century Super Hero memorabilia.

I�d had a deep love for the masked Mystery Men of the past for as long as I could remember. My father, a Science Police Captain and a history buff, introduced me to their adventures when I was just a child. I grew up reading about such legends as The Justice Society of Message Board Posters and the LMB Experience. Flashy, colorful characters that symbolized the best humankind had to offer. As a child, I lived vicariously through their adventures. I dreamed I was the mysterious Rhinestone Cowboy, dealing out my own rough brand of urban justice on the mean streets of New York. For years, these heroes were the only real friends I had as Father�s assignments kept my family on the move across the planet. I carried that love of Super Heroes with me my entire life, secretly wishing that one day I�d have a chance to be close to real-life Super Heroes.

Brande�s love for the ancient heroes was as deep than mine. And he had the cash to back it up. I spent the rest of the day going through crates of old pictures, art work, even real paper comic books, featuring the adventures of the greatest heroes of all time: The JSMB, The Justice League of Message Board Posters, the LMB Experience, The Uncanny X-LMB, even the short-lived Message Board Titans. Best of all was the heart of Brande�s collection, real artifacts from the heroes themselves. Rare treasures like the Green Miasma�s Gas Gun, one of Whip Lash�s whips even Roller Queen�s skates. I had no idea such treasures had survived into the 30th Century. I was in heaven poring through E.J.�s treasures. And luckily, nothing had been taken from that part of the warehouse. It seems the thieves were only interested in warp-drive parts, and had gotten away with nothing of any real value.

posted March 12, 2001 08:46 AM ��� ���� �� ��

As Brande�s Personal Assistant, I was asked to accompany him on his tour of the U.P. I was excited by the prospect of seeing new worlds. Even with all of the continent hopping I had done growing up as an S.P. brat, prior to the Brande tour, I�d only been off planet twice. Once, as a small child, I�d gone with my parents on a vacation to Summer World. The other time was as a University student, on an Archaeology class field trip to Nix Olympia, Mars. Now, I was presented with the opportunity to travel to two dozen different planets, a few of which I�d never even heard of prior to going to work at Brande Industries. And, of course, I jumped at it.

The tour went off without a hitch, at least logistically-speaking. Twenty-four worlds in forty-eight days. Diplomatically speaking, things didn�t going so well. At every stop, E.J. was given another example of how a United Planets would not work. Each world had it�s own culture, it�s own style of government, it�s own political agendas. Each one unwilling to change its ways to suit a unified government. On each world, the response was the same. Each world�s President, Chancellor, Monarch, Parliament or Commune felt that their world wasn�t getting a fair shake in the U.P. Each species had some reason or another why they couldn�t work with another. The Rimborians couldn�t see eye to eye with the Alpehians. The Rannites just couldn�t work with the Imskans. And, of course, nobody trusted the Durlans. The entire tour was comprised of one disappointment after another.

Anti-U.P. sentiment, among the leaders of the member worlds and their constituents, seemed to be at an all-time high. At one point, Brande had even received an anonymous death threat. Brande brushed off the threat. It only seemed to strengthen his resolve. His dream was starting to crumble, but that wouldn�t stop Engine Joe Brande.

�Kel, my boy� E.J. said, as we were preparing to depart from Xanthu, the last stop on the tour, �I know this unity can work. If only I could find some working model to demonstrate that to the leaders of the U.P. worlds. Some shining example of cooperation between different cultures to prove to these narrow-minded fools that this is not just some rich man�s folly.�

posted March 12, 2001 08:48 AM ��� ���� �� ��

To make things even worse, E.J. received a call while we were in the limousine on the way to the spaceport to tell us that his personal shuttle was experiencing technical difficulties. Ironically enough, the Brande Industries-developed warp drive had broken down. Due back on Earth for a U.P. Council meeting, there was no time to charter a craft to carry Brande home. There was, however, a Galaxy Spaceways Shuttle due to leave for Earth within the hour. We had no choice but to fly back to Earth Tourist Class.

I was upset over this latest development. Not so much because I thought myself above traveling with the common folk. I had only been working for E.J. a few weeks at that point. I was still quite unaccustomed to the lifestyle that E.J. Brand led, and was more than a bit uncomfortable with in the posh hotels and private luxury space cruisers. What upset me about the whole thing is that this was the sole failure in our itinerary. I hadn�t left sufficient time to account for the mechanical failure of our cruiser. Now, because I had overlooked that one minor detail, the richest man in the Galaxy would have to rub elbows with the rabble to get home in time.

For a few minutes, Brande was silent. I prepared myself to receive the brunt of Engine Joe�s legendary ire. After all, I had failed him in planning out the last leg of the tour. I thought about how I would pay the bills at home being out of work, and braced myself for the worst. Finally, as the limo pulled up in front of the terminal, Brande spoke.

�Kel,� he said, �I think I�ve been going about this all wrong. I�ve surrounded myself this entire trip with politicians and dignitaries. Not once did I stop to ask what the citizens of the U.P. thought about this. It is, after all, the average working sentient that will be affected by this union the most. I think it�s time I got out there and mixed with them. Find out what they need from their United Planets. Once I get the public behind me, the leaders will fall in line. This shuttle ride should be very�educational.� With that, he flashed me a grin and stepped out of the car. I was stunned. Brande not only wasn�t upset, he was actually excited about it. With much relief, I followed him out of the car and into the Spaceport.

The shuttle was tightly packed. As we boarded, the crowd grew silent. All eyes were on Brande. I don�t believe there was a soul on board that day that didn�t immediately recognize him. Most were awestruck. They had never seen a celebrity of his magnitude face to face. E.J. turned on the charm, greeting each passenger as we made our way back to our seats.

We were seated behind two young humanoid males. As Brande began to poll the nearby passengers on their feelings about the United Planets, I amused myself by listening in on the two boisterous youngsters. One of them, a tall thin boy, was returning home from competing in the Dart Olympics on planet Xynthia. Not only had he competed, I learned, he had won the Intertron Medal, the Games� highest prize. His traveling companion, a heavy-set, bespectacled lad, was on his way to Earth to complete his training as a Lard Knight. Not knowing what this meant, I assumed it merely a flight of fancy, and paid it no mind. What interested me more about this youngster was his fascination with the comely young brunette a few rows ahead. I chuckled to myself as the heavy-set youngster described in vivid detail what he would do with her, if given the opportunity. The Dart Champ, on the other hand, seemed much more interested in the gentleman seated next to the lass.

posted March 12, 2001 08:51 AM ��� ���� �� ��

Brande himself found the trip to be productive. He�d had a chance to get good, constructive feedback from a few of the Shuttle�s passengers on his U.P. idea, and had a renewed vigor and sense of hope as he prepared to disembark.

I gathered my carry-ons, and stepped off the Shuttle with Brande in tow. Ahead I saw my two in-flight entertainers, and bid them a silent adieu. I chuckled again as I noticed the big one was still leering after the young lass from the front of the ship.

Suddenly, the young lady stopped dead in her tracks. She jerked as if struck by lightning, wheeled around and pointed at two members of Galaxy Spaceways� ground crew. �Those two� she cried. �They�re assassins! They�re here to kill E.J. Brande!�

Hearing the young lady scream, I immediately looked to the two ground crew members. I remember seeing them draw their blasters, which were stashed in the luggage skiff. At that point, I threw myself in front of E.J., knocking the two of us to the ground. A single shot rang out, and I heard it crash into the side of the stairwell just overhead. It passed so closely I could feel the heat of the blast, and smell the ozone as its energy crackled past. Shards of burnt metal rained to the ground around us.

Face down on the ground, I heard the crack of a whip, a cry of pain and the sound of something metallic, presumably one of the assassin�s blasters hitting the ground. I learned later that it was the Dart Champion who had felled the first assassin. He drew the whip from out of nowhere. It seemingly grew right out of his fingertip. Unerringly, he hit his mark, disabling the first attacker with a sharp crack to the jaw and knocking him unconscious.

I scrambled to make sure that E.J. was okay. He was winded, but in one piece. I turned just in time to see one of the most amazing things I had ever witnessed. The heavy-set youngster, the self-professed Lard Knight turned towards the second assassin, the one who had fired the near-miss shot. He unleashed a quick blast of viscous fluid from his hands, and the weapon disappeared, right out of the second attacker�s hand! The blaster landed a few feet away, covered in a greasy film. He then dropped the would-be assassin with a swift kick to the groin. The assailant fell to the tarmac in agony.

I sat on the ground for a minute after the dust had settled. My head was spinning, in awe of what I had just witnessed. Like the Super Heroes of old, the three teenagers had foiled the attempt on E.J. Brande�s life. They worked quickly, efficiently dispatching the two would-be assassins. And before I knew what had happened, the assassins were neatly tied up for the S.P.�s to haul away, and the kids were gone. Lost in the sea of people who had witnessed the spectacle.

posted March 12, 2001 08:53 AM ��� ���� �� ��

Tracking the three down turned out to be a more daunting task than I had anticipated. Michael Lash was the easiest to find. A champion athlete, records on him were readily available through the U.P.�s search engines. From the Dart Olympic Committee, I learned that he was from the planet Ten�see VIII, where he was a bit of a local hero in his own right. The Dart Olympics Medal was the latest in a long list of awards he�d won in various events. I booked a flight to Ten�see VIII. When I arrived, I realized I was in luck. The citizens of Ten�see VIII were throwing a victory parade for him in the capital city. I was in attendance, and used my influence as an employee of E.J. Brande to get a private audience with the guest of honor.

The meeting was quick but fruitful. Michael Lash explained to me that he had been the subject of embryonic experimentation by an unknown alien race. As a result, he had gained superior eyesight and hand-eye coordination. Through intense training, he had developed his target shooting skills to the point where he was able to hit any target presented to him, no matter the degree of difficulty. He had also gained the ability to produce what he called his �lashwires�, thin, prehensile cables, which grew at will from his fingertips. These lashwires, he explained, could be used as whips, or painlessly detached from his fingertips for various other uses. It was with one of these lashwires, he said, that he had bound the two assassins at the Spaceport.

I explained to him that E.J. Brande wished to meet with him and the other teens who had helped save his life, to express his gratitude. Michael Lash humbly agreed to travel back to Earth for a meeting with Brande.

Next, I moved on to the Taylor lad. From a contact within the Metropolis S.P. barracks, I learned that an Anthony Taylor was being held for the theft of a large quantity of lard from a local Grocery Tesseract location the same day the assassination attempt took place. I asked about the boy�s history, worried that he might not be suitable for the task that E.J. had in mind. I was told that the boy had no prior arrests, and that he had turned himself in. I arranged to visit him in the S.P. Youth Detention Center.

When I arrived at the Detention Center, Anthony Taylor was sitting on the floor of the holding cell, meditating peacefully. I introduced myself. Anthony said that he remembered me from the flight, and asked if E.J. was okay. He looked honestly relieved when I told him that E.J. was fine. I asked the boy why he had stolen the lard from the Grocery Tesseract, and he explained to me that he did not have a choice. He told me of the Lard Knights, a secret order of overweight adventurers, of which he was a member. The Lard Knights, he explained, drew their powers from the Lardforce, an all-encompassing energy field that surrounded all of the physical objects in the Universe. This connection with the Lardforce allowed a Lard Knight to perform great feats, like the teleportation power that he had demonstrated in disarming the assassin. When a Lard Knight used his powers, he explained, he expended a great deal of lard energy from his own body. His actions at the Spaceport had left him terribly drained. His weight dwindled, weakening his connection with the Lardforce. If he had not replenished his system when he did, he might have lost his powers. He may even have died. He added that he fully intended to make restitution for the act, once he was able to raise the credits. He had spent the last of the credits he had on his Galaxy Spaceways ticket to Earth from his home colony on the planetoid Gus Crek.

The boy seemed sincere. Since this was his first offense, and he had offered the S.P.�s nothing but cooperation in the matter, I decided to do what I could to help him. I asked him if he would be willing to meet with E.J. Brande. In exchange, I would post his bail and arrange legal council for him. Anthony agreed, though he insisted that he would accept no reward from Brande. Lard Knights, he said, did not use their powers for financial gain. I admired the boy�s integrity.

With Lash and Taylor onboard, I had only to find Candace Ames, the third of Brande�s heroes to complete my assignment. Neither Michael Lash nor Anthony Taylor had actually spoken to her, before or since the incident. All I knew of her was her name, and the fact that she seemed to be an empath. I started the search for her by talking to the crew of the Galaxy Spaceways shuttle that had carried us to Earth. No one onboard could provide any information about the lass, other than the fact that her very presence on the flight seemed to make them happy. The flight crew offered no leads.

I hit the newsgroups, hoping for something that might give me a clue as to the young lady�s whereabouts. Though the Universal Press wires were buzzing with information about the attempt on Brande�s life, I could find no useful information about Candace Ames there. She hadn�t been sighted since the incident. I turned to the infonet, the Galaxy wide search-engine, for anything that might help me find her. An exhaustive search revealed nothing.

More than a week had passed since the attempt on Brande�s life. I had tracked down two of the three young heroes, but could not seem to find the third. Brande was getting impatient, looking for a progress report. He had put all other business on hold, preparing for the arrival of the children who�d saved his life. He was so excited about whatever he had planned. How could I walk into his office and face him with the fact that I had failed him again?

I sat in my office with these thoughts running through my head for what seemed like an eternity. Suddenly, a shadow fell across my desk. I looked up, and standing in the doorway was none other than Candace Ames. �I felt your heart calling to me from across the city,� she said, �I�m here to help.�

At once, I was shocked and relieved. The girl that I had been unable to find had come to find me. After rescuing Brande at the Spaceport, she had gone into hiding. After the assassins were subdued, the crowd that had assembled on the tarmac swarmed the three heroes. It seemed like everyone wanted to get close to them, to get a piece of them. The sea of emotions overwhelmed her, and she fought her way through the teeming crowd to safety. She had been unprepared for the crowd�s reaction, but could not resist the urge to help others. When she sensed that I was in distress, she felt compelled to reach out to me.

I sat and talked to Candace for hours. I instantly felt comfortable around her. She told me about her ability to boost the morale of those around her. Her empathic abilities, she explained, were her legacy as a �Lady of Balance�, a bridge between the forces of Chaos, and Order. She was an agent of compromise and compassion, the mediator between the dark and the light. Candace, a native of Earth, was studying art on planet Winath when she felt compelled to return home. Dark forces were building here, she said, and she felt she needed to be here, to balance things out for the side of light. That was what had brought her to the Metropolis Spaceport on that fateful day. It was also, she said, what brought her to my office.

posted March 12, 2001 08:54 AM ��� ���� �� ��

I gathered Michael Lash, Anthony Taylor and Candace Ames in E.J.�s outer office. It was the first time the three of them had been together since the incident at the Metropolis Spaceport a week ago. Nervously they sat, waiting, wondering what would happen next. Anthony, seemingly the most gregarious of the bunch, broke the ice, formally introducing himself to the others. They followed suit, and soon the three were engaged in a lively conversation. They shared a great rapport, almost right from the start.

E.J. buzzed me on the intercom, and I knew it was show time. I lead the three teens into the inner office. The room was dark. After a few seconds, a holographic image appeared from the ceiling. I recognized the image immediately. It was a group picture of the original Justice Society of Message Board Posters. Then another image, the LMB Experience. The kids looked confused. Surprisingly, Michael spoke up. He had heard of the JSMB, the great heroes from the Earth�s past. �But what�s the point of this?� he asked.

From across the darkened room, E.J. responded. �The point is,� he said, �you kids are heroes. What you did at the Spaceport proves it. You acted bravely and selflessly.�

�We did what had to be done,� replied Candace.

�You made a great team,� I said, adding my support to what E.J. had in mind.

�Hear, hear Kel,� said E.J. �And with my company backing you, you could be a team again.� I smiled. I knew E.J. was up to something. �Like the JSMB and LMB Experience inspired the people of their eras, you kids could be the one�s who inspire the citizens of the 30th Century. You could use your special powers to make the Universe a better place. To help sentients in need. To show the closed-minded fools in the U.P. Assembly that sentients from different worlds can work together. What do you think?�

�I think it�s a great idea,� replied Anthony, �but I don�t think we�re ready for this. We�re not Super Heroes.�

�But you will be,� said Brande, smiling confidently. �I will see to it that you kids get the best training possible. The best facilities and equipment too. What ever you three need to make this succeed.�

Michael sounded a bit concerned. �The three of us, to protect the entire Galaxy? We can�t do it alone. Surely we�ll need help.�

�And you�ll get it� said E.J. �I�ll use my influence to get you recognized by the Science Police. And once the public gets word of your exploits, other special youngsters will rally around you. Soon, you�ll have a whole Legion of super-powered heroes at your side.�

posted March 12, 2001 08:55 AM ��� ���� �� ��

Brande put me in charge of making the necessary arrangements, a role I relished. I had been enamored of Super Heroes my whole life, and now I had the chance to work with real-life Super Heroes. In those first few months of the LMB�s existence, I worked closely with the young heroes. I served as advisor, mediator and facilitator. I had final approval over any important decisions. After all, I was the one authorizing the payments from the Brande Industries accounts. But for the most part, the group functioned independently. They held meetings, worked out solutions to problems, and presented me with the results. I never once had to exercise my veto power. They always seemed to make the right call.

Code names and costumes were the first order of business. If they were going to be Super Heroes, they had to fit the part.

After toying with several different names, such as Whip Master and Target Boy, Michael Lash settled on Lash Lad. Candace Ames chose a name which reflected her place as a Lady of Balance. She would be called Shadowplay in Candlelight Lass. Anthony Taylor used the name that had been bestowed upon him by his Lard Knight trainer. He would be known as Lardlad.

The costumes were next. Tailors and costume designers were brought in to outfit the young heroes. The kids decided against a uniform look. Each wanted to wear a costume that would suit their individual tastes. Bright flashy costumes, inspired by the heroes of the 20th Century, were the result.

Then came the training. Our young Legionnaires had all of the tools to be superb Super Heroes, bravery, teamwork, fantastic powers, but those raw skills needed to be honed. We couldn�t risk sending these kids out until we were sure they knew how to handle themselves. I scoured the Galaxy to find the best training staff available. A rigorous training regimen was developed that would develop the Legionnaires minds and bodies. The ordeal we put those kids through made S.P. boot camp look like a walk in the park.

Physical training, hand-to-hand combat drills, specialized power training, and hostile environment maneuvers were all necessary to sharpen the Legionnaire�s physical skills. Classes in diplomacy, history, politics, decorum, Galactic cultures and espionage skills were required as well. For E.J.�s gambit to work, The Legionnaires had to be as effective in front of the holo-camera as they were in the field. Our training assured they would be. The kids were tested constantly. Doctors gave thorough physical exams to make sure we weren�t pushing them too hard. Image consultants drilled them on etiquette and protocol. Teachers made sure they kept on top of their studies. It was tough, but the kids took it all in stride. The training, testing, poking, and prodding were all demanding, but they knew it was necessary. They were as dedicated to the cause as E.J. and I.

posted March 12, 2001 08:57 AM ��� ���� �� ��

Just when everything seemed like it couldn�t get any worse, a loud explosion rocked the conference room. The back wall of the auditorium was blown away. The LMBers sprung into action. Lardlad used his power to teleport large chunks of the wreckage safely backstage. Lash Lad took out the smaller fragments that Lardlad had missed with his lashwires. Shadowplay in Candlelight Lass used her morale-boosting power to calm the crowd, and began evacuating the reporters who were injured in the blast.

Suddenly, the cause of the blast was revealed. The auditorium was under attack by the Retros, a group of Super Villains who had been terrorizing Metropolis for years. Modeling themselves after icons of 20th Century Earth society, the Retros abhorred change. Beatnik Bellydancer Boy, the leader of the Retros, burst into the room, followed by Hippie Hula Girl, Mod Man, Freaky Flapper Chick and Leave It To Beaver Larry.

�Okay, Daddy-o,� Beatnik Bellydancer Boy said, speaking to Brande. �You�ve just got to cool it with this United Planets jive. It�s like, totally squaresville man. Some of those worlds you want to hang with are so out there. It�s just not cool baby. We might have missed our chance at the Spaceport, but now we�re gonna take you out!� With that, Beatnik Bellydancer Boy snapped his fingers. A cool blue flame shot from his fingertips. Before the flame attack could reach its target it was met by a blast of lard.

�What�s this?� cried Freaky Flapper Chick. �Looks like the old boy�s got some new friends. Let�s get �em!� With that, the Retros charged in, full force. I grabbed E.J., and retreated backstage, where we would be safe. From the wings, we watched the skirmish.

The Retros. It made sense that they�d be behind the attacks on Brande. The U.P. was a big step forward for the Galaxy. The Retros would see that as a threat. The unity was shaky. Brande was the only thing holding it together. If they took him out, it would all come crashing down. I just hoped the LMB was ready. We hadn�t anticipated such a tough challenge for their first public outing.

Lardlad pitched himself into battle with Beatnik Bellydancer Boy. He shielded himself from the cool-flames behind a shield of lard. Beatnik Bellydancer Boy shimmied and shook and eluded Lardlad�s attacks. Lardy just couldn�t get a shot in on him.

Lash Lad squared off against Leave It To Beaver Larry, using his lashwires to disperse Larry�s crippling nostalgia waves. Larry unleashed a devastating morality attack, which sent Lash Lad reeling.

Shady, after getting the last of the injured reporters to safety, joined in the battle, holding off Freaky Flapper Chick. Shady used her positive energy to resist the hypnotic power of Freaky Flapper Chick�s Charleston.

The kids were holding their opponents to a stand still. But the LMB was outnumbered. Mod Man and Hippie Hula Girl moved in from the flanks. Mod Man unleashed a hallucinogenic blast, which struck its mark, knocking Shady for a loop, while Hippie Hula Girl took aim at Lardlad. Lardlad managed to duck the attack, and narrowly avoided getting �leid� by Hula Girl. The situation looked grim.

Suddenly, some help came from out of the crowd. Two young boys rushed the stage. One boy aimed his hands at Mod Man and used what appeared to be a magnetic force to throw him against the wall. The other directed his attention to Freaky Flapper Girl, and she was frozen, mid-Lindy. The boy had turned her to crystal! The odds evened, the momentum swung back to the LMBers. Lardlad teamed with the crystal-generating teen to take out Beatnik Bellydancer Boy. While Lardlad fired globs of lard at him, the other boy hardened them into projectiles. Beatnik Bellydancer Boy was knocked unconscious by the barrage of flying lard crystals.

Lash Lad, meanwhile, had managed to get the best of Leave It To Beaver Larry. Larry droned on about the simpler times, threatening to bore Lash Lad into submission. Lash Lad picked up a piece of debris from the stage, and fired it at a support beam, which had been damaged in the battle. He hit his mark with sufficient force to knock out the brace, and bring a section of the roof down on Leave It To Beaver Larry.

posted March 12, 2001 09:01 AM ��� ���� �� ��

Best of all, the reports all seemed to make mention of the fact that these three young heroes, as well as their two newfound companions, were all from different worlds. Funny how having their lives saved by the LMB suddenly made the media come around to Engine Joe�s way of thinking. The interstellar cooperation angle, of course, was key. Soon, under the watchful eye of the LMB, support for the U.P. would be at an all-time high. E.J.'s gambit had paid off, in more ways than one.

As for the two kids that joined in on the battle, they became LMBers too. The crystal-caster, Zal Renar of Trom, would join the LMB as Tsarin Kid. Desmond Bohan, the one with the magnetic powers, he was rechristened Cobalt Kid. When word of the LMB�s battle with the Retros hit the press, the kids were inundated with requests for try-outs. Tsarin Kid and Cobalt Kid would be the first to join, but many more would follow. Soon, the kids really would be a Legion.

And the Galaxy would never be the same.

----------------------------

The End

Happy Anniversary LMB!!!

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"You're getting closer, to pushing me off of life's little edge,
Cause I'm a Loser and sooner or later you know I'll be dead..."