Good Morning, Good Afternoon, Good Evening. Welcome dear reader to the 8th story in my series titled 'The Legends Universe', an AU series where I try to stay faithful to the source material and build off of it and introduce concepts and characters that I enjoy writing for.
Welcome to the culmination of 7 other stories of introducing characters and concepts, the end of the first phase of Legends Universe Stories. This is 'The Prospectors'.
Legends Universe: Story 8
The Prospectors
4 October, 2005
Kids Next Door Moon Base
Spy Sector Barracks
The Kids Next Door has been dealt a serious blow in recent weeks. Operatives in positions of power have been revealed to be working for those they swore to defend child kind against. A Teen Infiltrator revealed to be posing as a child for over ten years, in charge of overseeing Decommissioning. These were dark times for the Kids Next Door. Trust was a thing none could afford now.
Carol Pariuhs knew this well. Known to others as Numbuh C4, Carol was a member of the Spy Sector based on the Moon Base. And only recently had it been revealed that their leader, Numbuh 206, was working with the Teenagers. She felt sick, knowing that she had worked under such a kid and possibly unknowingly assisting whatever endgame he had in mind.
Carol found herself alone in the quarters she once shared with her partner, Numbuh 362. She found it quite empty, devoid of any noise or laughter the pair once shared. Numbuh 362 had recently been promoted, taking over Numbuh 206's role as Spy Sector Leader. She brushed her red colored locks out of the way and gazed down at the data pad she had in hand.
She'd been tasked by her former partner to pursue whoever Numbuh 206 worked for. Scrubbing through their former leader's files, the operatives had found several messages intended for deletion. All of which made reference to an entity known as 'Leviathan'.
Carol had recently followed a lead regarding 'Leviathan'. Her journey ended at the Kids Next Door Online Hub, where she fought off a Teen Assassin, who had intended to eliminate the Online Hub's caretaker. It seemed like the trail had gone cold when the subdued Assassin committed suicide. But the Online Hub's caretaker recognized the teen's voice from a video game she played in order to harass teens and kindly pulled the IP address off her recent players list.
On the data pad was a customized search engine and the IP address. Carol sat in silence, waiting for the engine to provide a positive location.
In the silence, Carol thought of her place with the Kids Next Door. Her friends Numbuh 362 and 86 were now leaders in charge of both the Spy Sector and the Decommissioning Squad. Carol didn't feel jealous, instead she felt happy for her friends. She was proud of them, that they had stepped up when the KND as a whole needed them.
But still, Carol felt off somehow. Maybe she felt lonely now that Rachel was busy being in charge. Possibly it could be the fact that she felt she wasn't living up to her potential. While everyone she knew had gone on to be something greater, she was still stuck at the bottom. Or maybe she felt guilty, that they had to stand up and take charge because she was too afraid to.
The data pad let out a low beep, signifying its current task had been completed. Carol left her thoughts and returned to the task at hand. She looked at the results, finding the IP address had been tracked to Rhode Island.
Carol frowned. She knew of the Kids Next Door's history with that state. It sort of made sense that her mission would take her there. Carol sat up from her bunk and began to prepare. She'd have to make a stop by the Moon Base armory on her way out, but for the most part, she had all that she needed in the room with her.
Carol got dressed in standard issue Spy Sector dress consisting of black turtle necks and cargo pants with a red sash to offset the bleak coloring. She threw on her boots and tied her laces. She grabbed her standard issue Combat Satchel and secured it. She grabbed the data pad and the keys to her S.P.R.A.Y.S.H.I.P. Carol walked to her door and pulled it open. She hit the lights and locked the door behind her.
Kids Next Door Arctic Prison
When Darwin Ennis was first brought to the Arctic Prison, the first thing that came to mind wasn't how an organization run by children could afford to create such a marvel of engineering, nor did he dwell on what sort of authority the Kids Next Door possessed or who would give such power to children legally imprison individuals such as himself.
No, the first thing Darwin thought was how the base could be so cold.
Darwin men tally slapped himself for such an obvious question. He was a scientist after all. Maybe it was the hormones that came along with being a teenager, however, maybe that's where the fault in his logic came from. Or perhaps it came from the anger of imprisonment.
"You have a visitor." One of the guards, a prudish child, spoke from outside Darwin's cell.
Darwin looked up from where he sat on his cot. He wasn't surprised that he had a visitor, in fact, he was expecting one. Like most of the other prisoners here in the Arctic, Darwin doubted that anyone beyond the Kids Next Door knew of his whereabouts. But unlike all the others, this information benefitted Darwin. The only one who'd visit him would be her.
The cell door slid open and in stepped Numbuh 9-Lives. "You've cut your hair." Darwin commented with a genuine smile.
Numbuh 9-Lives' blonde locks were admittedly shorter than the last time the pair had met. She was a solo operative, a KND operative who was sent on missions in need of a precise incision instead of a blunt instrument of a full on Sector. Numbuh 9-Lives had been sent to investigate a fellow comrade's disappearance, and deal with Darwin's laboratory.
What she found, however, was a crime against nature. Darwin and his benefactors had created a machine capable of transmutating children into animals. In the end, Numbuh 9-Lives caught the bad guy, changed everyone back to normal, but she herself was now stuck in some sort of in-between form where she had cat ears and eyes, and a tail.
She didn't hide her contempt for Darwin, glaring at the teen since the moment she stepped into the frigid cell. "Leviathan. Who are they?" She growled, getting the point. "Where can I find them?"
"Do they hurt?" Darwin asked, side stepping Numbuh 9-Lives' questions. He pointed at her ears. "When we made the Animalization Ray, we never thought such a state of human and animal would be possible, not without side effects of course. Yet here you are, with a tail. Does it hurt?"
Numbuh 9-Lives' glare intensified. "Do you want me to answer your questions? Then answer mine." She declared.
"Only if we make this a recurring thing." Darwin said smugly. "We have much to do, Violet. You and I. You should look over my notes. Maybe then you'll be convinced that your current state is impossible to harness… Not without outside help." Darwin said the last part in a self-contained knowing fashion.
When Numbuh 9-Lives was made an example of Darwin's experiments, he spoke of devils and gods, something she expected from a crackpot priest, not a man of science. "The ears don't hurt. Nor does the tail and neither do the eyes."
Darwin smiled. "See? Was that so hard? It's like we're being friends. You help my research. I help you." Darwin said smugly. "Rhode Island. You can find my benefactor in Rhode Island."
Without a word, Violet angrily spun around and exited the cell. "Do come again!" Darwin shouted as the cell door slid to a close behind the operative.
Rhode Island
Curry's Diner
The skies were dark and dreary, the weather forecast predicted thunderstorms later in the evening. The streets were quiet, families in doors for Sunday's service or home enjoying breakfast. The sidewalks were silent with a trio of teens loitering outside the entrance of Jacky's Diner.
A lone boy in black with a white cross stitched to his long sleeve shirt wearing a standard KND Combat Satchel with what appeared to bed a giant stick wrapped in cloth attached to his back, approached the Diner from the opposite direction. The teens caught sight of the kid as he jaywalked across the street in order to reach their side.
"Not from around here." One of the teens pointed at the boy in black.
The boy walked past the teens and made his way to the Diner entrance. The kid walked into the Diner, quickly catching the eye of the middle aged woman manning the counter.
"Table for one, please." The boy in black spoke politely with an air of well meaning.
"Diner's closed, kid." The woman said a matter-of-fact.
"Your sign says otherwise." The boy in black pointed to the window. The boy walked up to the counter and reached up, grabbing one of the many menus.
The middle aged woman only watched as the boy in black seated himself at a table at the front of the diner by the windows. She'd never seen the kid before. She took in the sight of the boy's thoughtful face, then she realized he was not from around Rhode Island.
"Where you from, kid?" The woman asked rudely.
"Out of town." The boy in black answered simply.
"I can tell." She scoffed. "No kid from Rhode Island would be dumb enough to pull what you're doing now."
The boy in black merely nodded, not looking to address the woman as he continued to look over the menu. "Odd, isn't it?" The boy in black asked aloud. "It's a Sunday morning. Where's the rest of your patrons."
"Kids from Rhode Island know better than to come in here." The woman at the counter glanced at the window, seeing the three teens outside looking to her for instruction. With a single nod, the woman commanded the teens to enter the diner.
"How good are the flapjacks?" The boy in black asked coolly.
"They're good enough to die for." The lead teen said as he rounded the table.
The boy in black looked up from the menu, unimpressed by the threat. The boy in black cracked a light smile as the teen took a seat across from him as the other two remained standing. "Gentlemen." The boy in black spoke politely. "I'm could come."
The teens shared glances and disbelieving expressions. The lead teen let out a hearty laugh. "You some kind of funny guy, huh?"
"No, just a tourist." The boy in black answered. "In fact, I think you could help me." They boy in black closed his menu.
The teens looked to their leader, looking for instruction. The leader raised a hand, quelling their anxiousness. "You don't get it, do you?" He laughed. "Kids here don't ask questions. They do what they are told. You being here is in violation of our laws."
"Is that so?" The boy in black asked well manneredly. "I had no idea I was socially inacceptable for me to come strolling in to this establishment."
"Boss, be careful." One of the teens spoke up. "He's trying to confuse you with words."
"I can tell." The lead teen relaxed, reclining in the booth. "Kids like you are a problem." The teen leaned forward. "You lack the proper education to survive in Rhode Island. We're going to rectify that."
"I'll have to pass." The boy in black smiled. "The only education I accept on Sunday is that of the good book." The boy in black set his menu aside. "But you could help answer some questions. I would find it rather helpful in my day to day activities for the rest of this evening."
"I've read the numbers. I've seen the backs of the milk cartons and the newspapers." The boy in black spoke intensely. "All kids from Rhode Island. So, where are they, teenager?"
The lead teen glared. "Would you like to go and see them?" He threatened.
"Give me a name. And I will see so myself." The boy in black spoke quietly, not breaking eye contact with the teenager sitting opposite of him.
"Grab him!" The lead teen shouted.
High Rise Tower
Center of Providence
Miles on out, at the top of High Rise Tower, Kayla Valera could see it all. Numbuh 322 was a solo operative, a sniper who was good at her job. Emphasis on 'was'. After a plane crash gone wrong, an a month stuck on an island populated with ravenous Rainbow Monkeys, her skills and mental health have since been called into question by the chain of command.
After getting revenge on the teen who stranded her on that Island, and preventing a bombing on the Moon Base, Kayla interrogated her attempted killer, and pried the whereabouts about the woman in charge of his organization. After disposing of the teen in the most ironic of ways, here Kayla was, in Rhode Island.
And through her sniper rifle scope, she could see The Boy in Black from miles away. Kayla knew of The Boy in Black, or rather, she'd heard of him. She was familiar with the stories she heard during her more sociable days, how the boy had gone on a pilgrimage of sorts and discovered an ancient artifact of religious significance. How the boy often annoyed his fellow operatives with his cheerful attitude.
Through the scope of her rifle, Kayla could see the boy best the trio of teenagers. He danced around them, jumping from booth to both, causing them to trip over themselves. Soon, she watched the boy dispatch the trio with a diner menu and a bottle of ketchup.
Kayla set her rifle aside, she could tell the boy had things well in hand, no need for her to intervene. She should probably make her way down the building and meet with the boy, see if they were after the same thing and pool their resources together. Kayla debated this and let out a sigh.
She glanced to a KND Tree House far off in the distance. Even from this far she could see its disrepair.
Decommissioned Sector Q Tree House
Rhode Island had not been kind to its child protectors. The Sector Q Tree House stood tall and proud, but the scars were there in the bark. Years of staving off attacks and would be arsonists, the mighty Tree House soldiered on.
Up in the sky, a S.C.A.M.P.E.R. streaked through the clouds. It began to slow and descend in altitude. The operative behind the wheel wore flamboyant clothing consisting of conflicting colors and half his head was shaved.
"Is the hangar open?" The pilot looked over his shoulder, seeing his only passenger hobbling up to the copilot seat.
"As you can see." The colorfully dressed pilot pointed out to the Tree House's opened hangar doors. "He's expecting us."
"Good." The passenger smiled. The passenger had recently shaved blonde hair, which had gone on to be carefully observed and tended to, resulting in a thin overgrown streak running down the middle. He wore a long sleeve black shirt with the number '832' written in purple with a pair of black cargo pants and boots to match. His right arm was bandaged up and in a sling.
"Get us down safely, now Terry." The operative, Numbuh 832 spoke in a joking manner.
"Got it." Terry nodded.
The S.C.A.M.P.E.R. continued its descent, flying down into the open mouth of the Tree House Hangar.
The S.C.A.M.P.E.R.'s landing gear folded out. The 2x4 aircraft set down on the wooden surface of the interior of the hangar. The door flipped open, with Numbuh 832 and Terry departing the ship, taking in the sight of the broken down 2x4 ships that inhabited the hangar.
"You guys are late." A voice called out to the duo. Numbuh 832 and Terry looked down further into the hangar, to see a boy physically identical to Terry, minus the shaved hair and overt fashion sense. The greeter wore sunglasses. A pair of unnecessarily huge headphones hung around his neck. He wore a blue zipped up hoodie and dark blue jeans and wore white sneakers.
"Numbuh 49." Numbuh 832 waved at the operative with his one good arm.
"Bro!" Terry shouted excitedly at Numbuh 49. "If you told me you were here, we could've car pooled!"
"Someone had to keep watch the door." Numbuh 49 spoke dryly.
"Speaking of our host." Numbuh 832 looked around. "Where's Numbuh 2030?"
Numbuh 832 looked to Numbuh 49 for an answer. Numbuh 49 shrugged. "He's busy tending to his duties."
Buchanan Household
"We want to join the Kids Next Door." Two identical pitched voices stated firmly.
Sitting in the living room of the modest sized home were a pair of Siamese Twins, connected at the shoulder wearing similar pants and a massive green hoodie which fit over both of their bodies. The twins looked to the older boy sitting across from them, pleading for their wish to come true.
The boy wasn't that much older. He had unkempt dark hair, a sickly pale complexion and his lower eyelids sagged slightly. He wore cargo pants and a light long-sleeved hoodie with a blue shirt over it.
"No." The boy said sharply.
The boy's name was Nolan York, Numbuh 2030 to those who cared about formalities. This was the tenth time he'd met with the twins after their brother's death. This is the tenth time he'd refused them.
Nolan glanced at the time on his wrist watch.
The twins glanced at each other, sharing unsure looks heavy with anxiety. It was the one to Nolan's right who spoke up. "What happened to our brother?"
"L-Like," The one to Nolan's left sobbed. "W-What actually happened?"
Nolan frowned. He stood from where he sat and began to walk out the front door. "I'll tell you when you're older." He said without turning back.
Nolan stepped out of the house and looked up, taking sight of the darkening sky. He looked to his surroundings, making sure he had not acquired any unwanted attention. Once sure no one was paying attention to him, the boy began to make the long trek by foot to his Tree House.
Thank you dear reader for checking this story out. I hope you enjoyed it. I'll try to update as frequently as I can but finals are here so I have other stuff to do. Anyways, later days!