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Author's Note: Congrats to Harry2 for being the first to get all the cartoons right. You will get a cameo in one of the upcoming chapters, promise! And Jeremiah2, you got all of them right as well. Aaron, all but one. Never watched MASK, have you? You should, it was lots of fun. Well, except for Matt Tracker's annoying son (forgot the name) and that egg-shaped robot he rode around on. I liked those episodes best where he wasn't included.

Anyway, I made some changes, deciding that I don't know enough about COPS to make a story there, so that is one cartoon world that won't be visited. Instead one of the crew will go to a universe where Earth is protected from the evil Queen of the Crown by four space-cowboy types with cybernetic implants that give them superpowers. Anyone recognize this cartoon?

One little thing about the following chapter: In the cartoon world where the first half of this chapter takes place no specific year was ever given, at least as far as I can remember and managed to research on the net. The only reference I found was that it all happened in the 25th century. If anyone knows more, feel free to let me know and I'll correct it. Right now everything except the century is conjecture on my part.

As for the second half, I was unable to find any episode scripts for that particular cartoon on the script, so what dialogue I took from the episode this all takes place in ('One Million Emotions') is purely from memory. Some of the information given on the characters (such as age and, in Niko's case, her last name) actually hails from fanfiction, as the cartoon itself never got around to telling us those little facts.

And now, on with the show!

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Solo Missions 1: Space Cowboys

#

Fort Kerium
New Texas
May 21, 2427

Parallel 147

#

Your name is Faith Winters, at least as far as you know, and you have recently developed the rather nasty habit of cracking your knuckles. It's not so much a nervous gesture as a kind of continued reminder of what exactly someone or something has done to you at some point in the distant past. For most people, cracking their knuckles produces a dry, bony sound. For you the sound is metallic.

Chasing away thoughts of your past (what little you know of it) and the lethal weapons imbedded into your forearms you decide to concentrate on the here and now. Here being a planet called New Texas and now being the middle of the day with no less than three different suns glaring down at you, producing a searing heat.

It's your first time on an alien planet (at least as far as you know), but so far you are rather unimpressed. Granted, seeing three suns in the sky is rather wicked, but apart from that this New Texas town could just as well be somewhere in ... well, Texas. The people are dressed in what looks like cowboy clothing with a few futuristic gadgets added here and there. The buildings are all made from metal and plastic, but apart from that they could be part of a Western movie set.

There are aliens around, of course, but having seen more than your share of demons you are not that impressed with them, either.

Looking down you chuckle at the clothing Willow 12 has given you to wear on this mission. Your first solo mission, you muse. Sent out into the wilds of the multiverse all by your little lonesome. Well, not exactly alone. There is a certain magically-enabled quantum computer keeping watch over you from a parallel reality somewhere, ready to snatch you back the moment you completed your mission, but that's it. The others are busy with their own tasks. Not that you mind, really. You have been alone for as long as you can remember and, to be honest, you can do without some of the people you have been thrown in with.

Your current trappings look quite ridiculous, but they fit into the local picutre. Yellow pants and shirt, brown cowboy boots, white glows, a kind of blue chestplate, and a white cowboy hat. All that and the carefully forged golden star on your chest make you look the part of a Galactic Marshal, or so Willow 12 said. Well, time to see whether the all-wise electronic den mother of the multiverse managed to get things right. Taking a last whiff of the hot, dry air of this place you step into the local equivalent of the police station.

The first thing you see is a three foot tall gnome scuttling around the place, dressed in some kind of brown robe and wearing a hat almost again as big as he is. The little guy also has a star on his chest. One of the prairie people, you think back to the briefing you got, the indigenous species of this world. One of two, actually. Probably not the man you were sent here to find.

"Hi, short stuff," you greet him. "I'm looking for a Marshal Bravestarr."

The little guy turns to look at you, giving you a smile.

"Oh, hello! You a marshal, too?" He looks at your star, which seems to pass his cursory inspection just fine. Being an alien, you doubt he is much interested in the rest of your anatomy and his eyes quickly return to your face.

"Marshal Faith Winters from Earth. Your boss around?"

"I'm deputy Fuzz. The marshal is over at the saloon for his lunch. Come, I'll take you."

Walking across the street you look around at all the people gathered here in this little town called Fort Kerium. All of them are here for the same reason, or so you've been told. Miners looking to make a fortune on some kind of crystal called Kerium. You didn't pay that much attention when Willow 12 spoke of it, but apparently it's both rare and extremely important for interstellar space travel.

Well, seeing that you just crossed dimensions and moved from Earth to a planet thousands of light years away in the blink of an eye you are not that concerned with interstellar space travel. This dimensional hopping thing works just fine for you.

Stepping inside, you don't need the little Fuzz guy to point out your quarry. You would have noticed him immediately even if he wasn't wearing the same kind of silly uniform you do right now. Would have noticed him even if he wasn't standing right next to ... a horse walking upright? Okay, that is a bit strange. Your eyes are drawn back to your main target, though.

Bravestarr is a tall man, at least six foot six. Dark-skinned and black-haired, showing his Native American heritage, he has a presence that goes far beyond the authority given to him by the golden star on his chest. Your Slayer sense is tingling, telling you that there is more to this man than meets the eye.

Willow 12 had little more than basic information on this man. Being the sole representative of the law on this planet (except for his little deputy) can't be easy, but he seems to get the job done. He is also said to possess some kind of mystic powers, a rumor that you now know is true. He is human, but a little more than that.

You also can't help but appreciate his good looks, come to think of it. Maybe Willow 12 can give you a day or so off once your mission here is accomplished.

"Marshal," Fuzz calls out, drawing Bravestarr's attention. "We have a visitor from that Earth place you once told me about."

He looks up, his eyes meeting yours. Only briefly do they stray downwards to check out your star (or maybe your rack, him being human and all). His eyes tighten a little and you can hear his heart rate increase slightly. He is a bit weary, that much is certain. Well, you can't exactly blame him for that. Another marshal turning up on his turf probably screams trouble.

"Welcome to Fort Kerium, Marshal ..."

"Winters. Faith Winters. Sorry to barge in unannounced."

He gives you a smile, but it is a bit guarded. Not overly suspicious, but not exactly trusting, either. Your kind of guy.

"Not a problem. I see you already met my deputy Fuzz. This," he motions towards the horse standing behind him, "is Thirty-Thirty. My partner."

Now that you're looking more closely you see that the horse is actually some kind of cyborg. It's arms (or is it forelegs?) are outfitted with some kind of technological knick-knack you can't make heads nor tails of. It's also carrying one of the biggest damn guns you've ever seen.

"Don't tell me," Thirty-Thirty says, sounding almost like Mr. Ed with the noises he makes between words. "You aren't here to enjoy the tourist attractions or because the big bosses finally got around to giving us some permanent backup here in this hellhole, right?"

"Right on the money, horsie," you smile at him. He gives you an irate look, probably for the 'horsie' thing. "I'm trailing a fugitive and he's here on New Texas."

Fugitive isn't exactly the right word, of course, but you doubt a tale of a guy from another dimension who accidentally crossed over into this one and must be brought back before time and space take permanent damage from this fuck-up will go over well with these guys.

"Your fugitive got a name?" he asks.

Producing some kind of technological gadget Willow 12 gave you from your pocket you fire up a holographic image of your quarry. The picture of a weathered-looking man in his fifties appears in mid-air.

"The guy's real name is Kevin McTaggert, but he usually goes by the moniker Proteus."

#

Beta Space Station
Earth Orbit
August 4, 2103

Parallel 216

#

Your name is Shane Gooseman and you are a Galaxy Ranger, one of an elite corps of interplanetary lawmen whose sworn duty is to protect Earth and its allies from whatever dangers may lurk. Without arrogance you can say that you are one of the best fighters in the known universe, one of the best shots, and you have other abilities that give you the edge against just about anyone when it comes to a fight. You have faced Crown agents, alien monsters, invasion fleets, eerie magicians, and a thousand other things that most people would have wet themselves seeing.

All of which means that you are very much dissatisfied with your current job.

"Why don't you sign me up as a night guard while you're at it?" you huff, knowing that it's futile but unable to help it.

The looks your three colleagues give you range somewhere between amusement and ... well, more amusement.

"We're keeping what's shaping up to be the most valuable collection of interplanetary art in the known universe safe from robbers. Isn't that something, Goose?"

You glare at your boss and friend. You have known Captain Zachary Fox for years now, but there are times when you still can't tell whether he is serious or just having fun with you.

"And a little culture won't hurt you in the least," Niko Dal'Ariel adds. The sole female on the team, Niko is probably the most educated of them all (at least overall) and obviously enjoys guarding this exhibit. Just as she is enjoying teasing you. Is it your fault your education involved weapons and ambush tactics instead of the finer points of finger-painting?

"I'd rather track down smugglers on Tortuna," you mumble, more or less satisfied to remain in a huff for now.

Niko gives you a dazzling smile. It's very unfair of her to use that smile on you, as she clearly knows you can't maintain a bad mood when she does that. You have carried a torch for her ever since you first met, but the difficulties of being colleagues and your own rather shady past have prevented it from possibly becoming more than that.

"Give it a chance, Goos," she says, still smiling sweetly. "Some day you will have to learn that there is more to life than chasing the bad guys."

Giving but a noncommittal grunt you walk away, preferring to check all the security measures one more time. All of the various pieces showcased here on the station are equipped with motion sensors and various other high-tech surveillance to make sure nothing gets stolen, but you know that there is nothing that a little ingenuity can't overcome. That's why you have human guards here as well. Why you are stuck doing this boring job.

Letting your eyes move across the room you check out the various people present. Most wear uniforms, either those of station security or the blue and white of the Rangers. Only a few civilians are already allowed inside. Donators, curators, and the occasional expert whose job it is to make sure that everything here is authentic.

Your eyes focus on a young dark-haired man standing in front of a painting. Something is off about him. Or maybe it's just the fact that he is currently chatting with Niko, who has that same sweet smile on her face she has given him earlier. Shaking your head you move closer to them in order to listen in. Something is wrong with that guy and you're not in any way jealous.

"... saw that mesa once, actually. The artist really captured the lights and shadows beautifully."

The man's voice is almost without any trace of dialect, no way to tell where he comes from. He looks young, certainly no older than twenty, but there is something about his eyes that makes him look older. You know eyes like that. They look at you from the mirror every morning. Most people don't believe you when you say that you're only 19 years old. With all the things you've gone through you look more like thirty, really.

"Have you seen the paintings of Kyle Stewart?" Niko asks him, still smiling. You wish she's stop that. "His landscapes look as if they would start moving any second."

"Can't say I've had the pleasure. I really need to check them out."

"I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you look awfully young for a museum director, Mr. Harris."

He gives her a little bow. "Thank you. And make it Alexander, please, Lieutenant. My father is Mr. Harris. I am one of those fortunate people who never seem to get any older. I assure you, though, the days when I was young and scoffed at such things as art and culture are long behind me."

"It's good to hear that some people get over that phase," Niko says, turning her head to give you a wink. You should have known she'd notice you. She wouldn't be on the team if she wasn't one of the best.

Suddenly there is a commotion at the other end of the hall and the com in your ear gives a buzz of alarm. Something happened. A moment later you're running toward the source of the disturbance, Niko only a step behind you. Zachary and the final member of your team, Walter Hartford, are already there.

"What is it, Zack?" Your hand rests on your blaster pistol.

"Security just found a body stuffed into a closet. One of the curators."

The four of you walk down a short corridor until you reach the closet in question. Security personnel is already going over the place with scanners.

"God, what happened to him?"


Finally you get a look at the body and while you have seen quite a few gorier sights this one manages to disturb you. The victim, a man in his late thirties to early forties, shows no signs of injury. If it wasn't for his paleness and the distinct lack of a pulse he might still be alive. Alive and quite amused, actually, seeing as his face sports the broadest grin you've ever seen on a human being. The grin, going almost from ear to ear, certainly didn't come by naturally.

"He was still alive when we found him," one of the security people says. "We heard him laughing."

"Laughing?"

The man nods. "He kept laughing until he toppled over and ... well, then he died. With that smile on his face."

You nod, your eyes scanning the surroundings. For the briefest of moments you see the man Niko was talking to earlier, Alexander Harris, before he ducks out of sight around the corner.

"Something funny going on, Mr. Harris?" you mumble to yourself.

TO BE CONTINUED

NOTE: Bonus points for whomever can tell me who Kevin McTaggert a.k.a. Proteus is and from which fandom (and which incarnation of it) he hails. No bonus points for the identity of the killer in the second half, as it should be quite obvious.