Issue #4

A week later, Raph's thoughts were all over the place as he strolled through Central Park West. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the movie he had just seen, a midnight showing of Attack of the Brain Aliens From Dimension X. He had been out busting up petty crimes solo all week. Leo had been training on rooftops during the day and going to bed early. Donatello was spending most of his time in chat rooms on the Internet. Michelangelo was reading comics, playing tabletop role playing games or watching cartoons. Between the carjacking and the muggings, Raph had been busy. He had even seen a different movie every night, trying to rid his mind of Splinter's story.

Raph was so confused. Could it be true? Could Splinter really be reincarnated from some warlord from Feudal Japan? Raph was bothered enough by these questions that he realized he had serious problems with the supernatural. It was odd enough that he and his four brothers were mutated humanoid turtles that practiced ninjitsu. If Splinter were indeed a reincarnated rat Raphael knew that he would be able to deal with it eventually. Now, he just wanted to get home.

From out of nowhere violent screams of terror interrupted his thoughts. The turtle looked around but saw nothing. He decided to follow the sound and finally came upon a twisted scene. Behind a large tree three street thugs were being beaten to a pulp. Some sporting goods store reject in a hockey mask was wailing on the thugs with a baseball bat in one hand and a golf club in the other. Raph stood there, for a moment amused, before he realized that the goalie from Hell was going to kill these guys.

"Calm down, Gretzky, before you do somethin' you might regret." Raphael leaned toward the masked man and ripped the bat from his hands.

"What the hell?" the man in the hockey mask stepped back to look at the intruder. He then swung his golf club at the trench-coated turtle.

"Yo, pal, Tiger Woods called. He wants his putter back." Raphael grabbed the golf club and yanked it from the madman with the sports obsession.

In the ensuing scuffle the three street thugs skittered through the grass and vanished behind a bush.

"Dude! You let those purse snatchin' scumbags get away. It looks like somebody's gonna have to teach you a lesson."

"Oh really?" Raph smiled under his fedora. "Seriously, bro, you look ridiculous in that getup. Sports jersey under a denim vest. Shoulder pads? Sweat pants? Let me guess, you're just compensatin' for gettin' picked last in gym class, right?"

"Oh yeah? And what the hell are you supposed to be, freak? Humphrey Bogart in a frog costume?" the vigilante pulled the hockey stick from his bag and knocked Raph in the head as hard as he could.

Raphael fell hard to the ground. The fedora flew from his head and flittered a few feet away. As Raphael stood up he tackled the sport's themed psycho to the ground and pulled his mask off.

"Get the hell off me, freak!"

"Well, what do ya' know. It's human after all." Raph laughed as he rose to his feet.

"What the hell are you?" the man couldn't believe his eyes as he cautiously stood up again.

"Nobody special. Just a turtle. And a ninja. A ninja turtle."

"What?" the vigilante looked confused.

"Hey, I like that. Has a nice ring to it, don't ya' think?"

"Look. I've seen some weird shit in my time, man, but you. You take the cake."

"A ninja turtle can't be any weirder than a Jason Voorhees wannabe beatin' on defenseless little street punks with sports gear, can it?"

"Dude, the name's Casey Jones. And I got a reason for doin' what I do, okay. Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime but right now I got work to do. Somewhere out there a helpless old lady is gettin' her milk money stolen. See ya', pal." The vigilante grabbed his mask off the ground and placed it over his face once more. He grabbed his weapons returning them to the golf bag on his shoulder. With hockey stick in hand the crazed vigilante raced to the edge of the park, disappearing behind a row of trees.

That night as Raphael returned home, his family was up and waiting for him. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning as he put the fedora and trench coat on the rack.

"Hey, guys." Raph waved. "What are you doin' up?"

"Sensei has shown us something, important." Leonardo stood up from the couch. "Where have you been, Raphael?"

"Out, Leo. What of it?"

"Don't you think it's a good idea to concentrate on ninja training than whatever the hell it is you do out there at night?"

"Shut up, Leo. I am trainin'. Every night. You don't even know okay? I've helped people. Saved lives. I'm out there on the front lines. What is it that you're doin'? Fancy ninja moves on rooftops, meditation and rice and vegetables. Some life, Leo."

"Enough!" Splinter raised his voice. "Raphael is home. That is all that matters now." Splinter moved over to the table and picked up a broken canister marked TCRI.

"What is that, Master Splinter?" Raphael's eyes widened.

"It is a canister I found in the sewer recently. It is significant only because of the markings on the glass. TCRI is the label that was on the barrel of ooze that we were soaked in. I remember seeing the lid to the barrel through the sewer grating when I first discovered the four of you."

"What do you think was in that canister, Master Splinter?" Mikey spoke up.

"I would assume more of the ooze that changed us."

"Big deal. What can we do about it? That was nearly fifteen years ago." Raphael shrugged.

Donatello went over to his desktop computer and fired it up.

"What are you doing, Donnie? Master is trying to talk to us."

"Relax, Leo. I'm going online to see what this TCRI is."

"Hey, good idea, bro." Michelangelo hopped on his skateboard and rolled toward the computer.

A few moments later everyone, including Splinter, were sitting near Donatello's computer as he read an article about the mysterious TCRI.

"Well, there was nothing available on the surface web so I had to log in to the deep web."

"Uh, what's the difference, dude?"

"No time to explain, Mikey," Donatello stared intently at the computer screen. "According to this, TCRI stands for Techno Cosmic Research Institute. It's a private corporation that's been around for nearly fifty years. It funds and develops secret military projects for the highest bidding government. Conspiracy theorists have speculated for a long time that TCRI may harbor aliens and alien technology."

"Ooh. This sounds like an episode of the X-Files."

"Shut up, Mikey." Leo smacked his brother in the head. "Go on, Don. Anything else? Is there anything about the ooze that transformed us?"

"I'm reading. I'm reading. Aha! It says here that in 1984 a military weapon was developed for the Soviet Union that granted soldiers superhuman abilities. It was a serum that increased strength, stamina, speed and intelligence for a few soldiers that it was tested on. The rest went insane. It was also found to have regenerative properties. Soldiers wounded on the battlefield grew back their limbs."

"Super soldiers? You mean like Captain America? Cool!"

"Geez, Mikey, do you come with an off switch?" Raph put his arm around his baby brother.

"Anyway, apparently the project was scrapped because those who went insane were horribly mutated into monsters. The mutates were all destroyed and most records of the project were destroyed."

"Human mutates? That's something, I guess." Leo rubbed his temple.

"The only other thing it says is that conspiracies about the serum vary. Some theorize that the substance is a secret formula stolen from another dimension. Others claim that it has an alien origin and was given to a team at TCRI by an alien race in exchange for the construction of military weapons."

"Just imagine, us as aliens." Mikey blurted out.

All four turtles began to howl with laughter at the thought.

"But what if it is true?"

"Relax, little bro! Us as aliens? It's ridiculous." Raphael put Mikey in the headlock and rubbed his head.

Suddenly a loud humming noise invaded the sewer. The harsh crunching sound of brick, steel and concrete being twisted together and pulverized echoed throughout the sewer. A minor vibration could be felt throughout the lair. As the noise got louder the vibrations turned to quakes.

"What's going on?" Leo looked around.

"My sons, watch out!" Splinter pointed his walking stick towards the other side of the sewer.

The sewer wall exploded as three dozen metallic robots each with two tromping feet, giant egg-shaped heads and gaping razor-sharp mouths burrowed their way into the sewer, bringing walls and pipes down around them.

"What the hell are those things?" Leo pulled his swords.

"Whatever they are, they picked the wrong party to crash." Raph gripped a sai in each hand.

"Why does this remind me of an arcade game I once played?" Michelangelo started swinging his nunchucks.

"I'd love the opportunity to study one of these things." Donatello pulled his bo staff.

"My sons, defend yourselves." Splinter pulled several throwing stars from his belt.

All four turtles and their father now stood ready to defend their home as these strange robots charged toward them ready to kill.