Good Morning! Good Afternoon! Good Evening! Welcome Dear Reader to the first chapter of 'Numbuh 832: Screams in Space'. The most out of left field place sequel to 'Numbuh 832' and the rest of the Legends Universe that I'm building here on FF.

Story Theme Song: 'The Pretender' by Foo Fighters.

Legends Universe: Story 10

Numbuh 832: Screams in Space

19 October 2005

The O.U.T.B.O.U.N.D.

'The World is cruel.' A boy dressed in black thought to himself.

The boy had recently shaved hair with a small streak left behind to form a mohawk. The boy's name was Joshua Paddock, Josh to his friends, and Numbuh 832 to the chain of command. A day ago, Joshua Paddock had learned of a friend's death. This morning, Josh had dressed himself for the funeral around noon. Right now, Numbuh 832 was seated inside a Kids Next Door 2x4 space craft heading up into space for god knows what.

The O.U.T.B.O.U.N.D. was a state of the art light speed capable craft the size of a condominium toppled over. Hours ago the ship was pulled out of the lab it was created in and shot up into space to pick up the unsuspecting crew of ten.

Only two of the operatives present did Numbuh 832 know personally. His teammates from the recently formed KND subgroup dubbed 'The Prospectors'. To his right was a good friend, one who'd stuck his neck out for Josh. Terry Thompkins, better known as Numbuh 94, was dressed in a suit in varying colors of black. It was best not to look at Terry for too long, there was a good chance of catching a splitting headache.

The operative sitting to his left was one he hadn't known for too long. Her name was Vana Washington, better known as Numbuh 5-10. She was a medic that much Josh knew. They were on a first name basis, but besides that the duo didn't socialize much. She was dressed in standard KND Medic garb consisting of white scrubs with her code number written in purple paint on the front.

The Prospectors were formed a week ago. Although not representing the true man power of the team, which now given a recent death in their ranks, totaled to seven operatives, this was The Prospectors' first proper mission.

"How's the arm?" Josh looked to his left, finding Vana gesturing to his right arm, referring to his previous injury involving his time on the run.

"It's doing better." Numbuh 832 answered, giving his arm a good flex to show off. It was 'snapped' as the doctors liked to call it at one point. Numbuh 86, the new Head of Decommissioning, had personally seen to breaking it.

"I can't believe we got hauled off for this." Terry muttered beside Josh. Numbuh 832 nodded, he shared Terry's view. "I hope there's a big turnout for the funeral. Jonathan deserved that much."

Sitting across from the trio were four other operatives, all of whom varied in age. There was a 2x4 specialist from Sector G, the number 202 stamped on her blue cap. A boy with chestnut brown long hair wearing what Numbuh 832 could surmise as climbing equipment. A girl wearing black combat armor with a red skull sat in a corner, tapping her foot on the metal plated flooring. And finally there was a boy with freckles with a green turtle neck, besides that he seemed rather plain.

The girl in black caught on to Numbuh 832 sizing them up. She leaned over to the freckled kid and nudged him, snapping him out of whatever mental fantasy he'd lost himself to. She whispered something lowly to the boy and chuckled. The freckled boy gave her an amused look but said nothing.

The freckled boy turned his attention to Numbuh 832, who was unapologetically watching them. "What are you looking at, fugitive?" The freckled boy asked with a playful tone.

The boy's words struck a nerve. They referred to Numbuh 832's days on the run from a corrupt Kids Next Door, how for months he'd spent living out of gutters trying to clear his name.

"Did I stutter?" The boy goaded, attempting to get a reaction out of Numbuh 832. All eyes turned fell on Numbuh 832, waiting to see what the operative would make of the situation.

Numbuh 832 was unmoved and continued to blankly stare. Providing a reaction would submit himself to this boy's will. So Numbuh 832 stared blankly at the aggressor, doing his best to remove all emotion from his features.

"What's your deal man?" Terry spoke up, violently gesturing at the freckled boy.

The freckled boy glanced to the girl in black. The girl giggled and the boy laughed. The boy turned back to Terry. "One day your friend's a fugitive. The next he's purging the Kids Next Door of various operatives in high positions of power."

"Quite fishy if you ask me." The girl in black spoke freely.

"Explain." All eyes turned to Vana, who had up until this point been completely silent. "How would such a situation be considered 'fishy'?"

The girl in black looked to the freckled boy, unsure how to properly respond to Vana. The boy held up a hand to the girl, silently assuring her he had it under control.

"Perhaps 'fishy' wasn't the right wording." The freckled boy smiled. "You see, we don't exactly buy into the notion that Numbuh 832 here, a known fugitive, could possibly have produced evidence purporting that known critics of Numbuh 274's regime were doing business with Teenagers behind our backs."

"So you presume a political motive behind Numbuh 832's return to our ranks, hm?" Vana spoke in a calculated manner. She crossed her legs and folded her hands together, sitting in an authoritative pose. "If that is the case, then is this entire effort to irritate my colleague politically motivated as well?"

Vana specialized as a Medic. Just like how Numbuh 832 was classified as a Weapons Master. Vana, unlike Numbuh 832, had a minor specialization on the side, one that she didn't often advertise. She was an Interrogator.

Numbuh 832 reclined in his seat, utterly in awe as Vana talked the duo opposite of him into a corner. They tripped over their words as they attempted to create coherent sentences. Vana powered on through picking apart their logic, getting them to admit flaws about themselves in the process. It was like watching Sherlock Holmes but with a dictionary.

"Holy-" Terry began to curse in awe of Vana's actions, before having his, and everyone else's, attention diverted to the front of ship.

Stepping out of the cockpit was the operative in charge, an older boy with recently cut hair wearing a standard KND space suit with orange and white trim with his code number painted on the front. "Can the chatter." He commanded. "I would like to apologize for this impromptu mission, Numbuh 274 wanted this taken care of immediately."

The operative, whose code number read as number '615', looked to the operatives. "The sensitive nature of this mission is the reason you've been selected. You're loyalty has been proven in the eyes of the Supreme Leader."

A monitor deployed out of the ceiling of the 2x4 space ship, lowering behind Numbuh 615. "Pay attention people, this is the mission briefing you wish you had hours ago." He said almost humorously. "The KND Science Asteroid orbiting Mars hasn't been checking in as per normal." Numbuh 615 pointed to the image of the science asteroid on the monitor.

"Now, normally we'd give them the benefit of the doubt and that they're just slacking off on the job." Numbuh 615 shrugged. "But as of recent events that is no longer a luxury we can afford. Our job is to inspect the station, make sure everything's tip top so Mr. Supreme Leader can sleep at night. And on the off chance that it is a failure on the mechanical side of things, we brought enough specialists to square that away."

Numbuh 202 waved mocked a bow. "Thank you, thank you."

"Yes, yes. You're awesome, Kim." Numbuh 615 motioned for her to relax. "Settle down."

Terry leaned forward out of his seat and rose his hand las if he were in a class room, waiting for the teacher to call on him. "And the off chance it's just as 'Mr. Supreme Leader' feared?"

Numbuh 615 smirked. "We brought enough kick butt to handle it, Numbuh 94." The older operative began to turn back to the cockpit from where he came. "Get your gear ready. We'll be on the station soon." He said before leaving the room.

With a huff, Numbuh 832 unbuckled his seatbelt and began to head to the weapons locker. He walked past Vana, who stuck an arm out, catching him.

"You okay?" She asked, looking up at Numbuh 832 from where she sat.

Numbuh 832 offered the kindest smile he could muster and patted Vana's hand reassuringly. "Thanks for sticking up for me."

"We're teammates." Vana glanced over at the other side of the troop bay, catching their spiteful glares and returning them kindly. "If we can't stand up for each other, who will?"

Numbuh 832 laughed slightly before resuming his neutral mood. He walked off out of the seating area. He approached his locker and opened it, pulling out a duffle bag filled with Velcro straps, a space suit and various colorful weapons.

Numbuh 832 took a corner in the room and sat down. Silently, walled off from all the others, Numbuh 832 began to prepare. In space, all sorts of things could go wrong.

The O.U.T.B.O.U.N.D. shot through the dark nothingness of space. Its destination dead ahead. The KND Science Asteroid orbiting around Mars. The Science Asteroid rested beyond the planet it revolved around. There was a foreboding appearance to the Asteroid as it silently rotated in place.

"Kids Next Door Science Asteroid, this is The O.U.T.B.O.U.N.D. Requesting Permission to land, over." Numbuh 615 called over the radio.

Static.

"Kids Next Door Science Asteroid, this is The O.U.T.B.O.U.N.D., are you receiving, over?"

Static.

"Kids Next Door Science Asteroid, is anyone there, over?"

Static.

"Kids Next Door Science Asteroid. Kids Next Door Science Asteroid. Is anyone there, over?"

Loud Static.

End of Transmission.

This story takes great inspiration from the Alien and Dead Space franchises. But, from a title like 'Screams in Space', I think people could make that connection by themselves.

I'll update when I can, I got some personal stuff going on but I wanted to leave you with a taste of whats to come. Anyways, 'til next time true believers. Later Days!