Webmaster's Note: I am not
responsible for anything written here, be it for good or for bad. If
you wish to comment on the fan fiction, you can send them e-mail with
your comments.
Author's Note: This story takes place sometime before
X-Force #43 and before Jeph Loeb started retconning Shatterstar into
something other than what all the evidence points to (if that IS what
he's doing...). I am going along with all the evidence that has been
presented before now, especially events in New Mutants #100, the
Shattershot Annuals a few years ago, and X-Force #29-30.
Disclaimer: All Marvel characters featured in this
story are trademarks of Marvel Comics Group. This is an unauthorized
work and no profit is being made on this work. This story is
copyright Tim Frankovich 1995.
Shattered Perceptions
Chapter One
The dozen or so monitors in the room were suddenly muted. "How long has he
been exiled?" a voice demanded.
"Eight months, three weeks, two days, and..." a second voice replied,
eminently clinical.
"I get the idea. Has it been long enough, do you think?"
"That depends on what your intentions toward him are." The sound of a sword
being drawn punctuated the sentence.
"Ha! My dear, you need have no questions regarding my intentions. They
are, as they always have been... and as my ancestors' were before
me."
"Great. More reruns."
"Perish the thought! No, I believe it is time to show our little plaything
that we haven't forgotten about him. Be a dear and bring him back,
will you?"
"What if I refuse? I have danced the dance until I am weary of it."
"Refuse me? Not likely. I am you as you are me as we are all together,"
came the reply in a singsong tone. "You must do what I say. I OWN
you, time dancer. Now. Bring Shatterstar to me. It is time for him
to play my games again."
"As you wish, Mojo."
"Mojo V!" the bloated creature insisted.
"As you wish, Mojo V." Spiral's voice was filled with sarcasm as she began
her dance...
******
"Jimmy! Look out!" With an extra burst of speed, Samuel Guthrie just
barely managed to knock his friend out of the way of a strafing laser
burst.
Both were a little dazed from the impact, but the two young men managed to
scramble out of the way of a massive steel ball that sped past them.
Sam shot into the air, protected by his kinetic blast field, a mutant
ability that enabled him to fly, among other things, earning him the
code name Cannonball.
James Proudstar, known as Warpath, used his enhanced strength to leap high
against the wall and rip the laser cannon apart. Around them, the
other members of X-Force --Siryn, Boomer, Rictor and Shatterstar--
were dealing with a vast array of dangerous (as well as silly) weapons
that seemed to spring almost magically from the walls and floor.
"Cable!" Cannonball shouted. "Ya did program some safeguards into this
thing, didn't ya?"
From behind the observation booth high on the wall, X-Force's leader, the
man called Cable, smiled faintly. "Never assume anything, Sam," he
said into the microphone. His voice boomed throughout the room where
X-Force was fighting.
"Swell," Sam muttered, dodging a missile with a pair of sunglasses painted
on the front. "Ah knew hangin' out in Murderworld was going to be a
mistake." A high-pitched sonic scream from his teammate Siryn,
Theresa O'Rourke, detonated the missile harmlessly.
"Fekt!" snarled Shatterstar, the sword-wielding mutant from another
dimension. "A true warrior does not fear injury during training!"
To illustrate his point, Shatterstar dove almost headfirst at an
opening panel, expecting another weapon system. Instead, a cardboard
cutout of Arcade, the assassin-for-hire who built Murderworld, popped
into place, grinning widely. Shatterstar slashed through the cutout
with both swords and spun around, wary of the next threat.
"Ah ain't afraid, Star," Sam responded. "It's just that... aw, forget it."
Concentrating intently, Sam expanded his blast field and detonated a
whole flock of aerial mines.
Julio Richter, code-named Rictor, unleashed a vibratory blast that deflected
the rolling steel ball away from him. "Sam, you and Star are about as
far apart in thinking as..." Rictor was forced to leave his sentence
unfinished as an unnoticed smaller ball suddenly exploded, throwing
him to the ground. Warpath bent to help him up.
At that moment, an orb of sparkling energy suddenly appeared in the far
corner of the training arena. "Cool special effects, Cable," observed
Tabitha Smith, otherwise known as Boomer. "What's that thing supposed
to do? Sparkle us to death?"
Inside the booth, Cable bolted from his chair and grabbed the nearest gun.
Whatever that orb was, it was not something he'd programmed into the
training session. "Be careful, team!" he called into the intercom as
he rapidly shut down the program.
"It is a teleportation effect," Shatterstar pointed out, running towards the
orb. "Someone is invading our base!"
In the midst of the orb appeared a strange-looking white-haired woman with
six arms, each holding a blade of some kind. "Spiral!" Shatterstar
exclaimed, slowing his run momentarily.
In the booth, Cable had reached the same conclusion. Deciding the stairs
would take too long, he leveled his gun and blew the observation
booth's window apart. Before the smoke could clear, he leaped through
the hole, using a burst of telekinesis to slow his 30 foot fall.
"Shatterstar!" exclaimed Spiral in delight. "I look for you and find you
running to me! Come, it is time to dance with death!"
"I know you, time dancer!" Star growled. "For what you have done in my
homeworld, I should kill you here and now!" He launched himself at
the floating woman with a cry of rage.
"Star, no!" shouted Rictor.
"Fool! You think your two swords will be a match for my six?" Spiral
taunted as Shatterstar closed the distance between them. She began to
dance again, her blades spinning dangerously.
"'Course he does," Cannonball muttered under his breath. "Terry!" he called
to Siryn. "Follow me in!" Sam roared after Shatterstar, even as
Spiral's sparkling orb began to materialize again.
Shatterstar's mid-air lunge was met and deflected by Spiral, who looked
gleefully into his eyes. A pair of hands suddenly locked onto Star's
wrists. "Come, arena warrior! It's time to entertain the masses
again!" she cried. Her orb coalesced into translucence, surrounding
both her and Shatterstar.
Cannonball narrowed his eyes, focused his blast field in front of him and
smashed into the orb... just as it disappeared in a burst of energy.
Cable and the other mutants stopped in their tracks. Spiral was gone, and
with her, Shatterstar and Cannonball.
Chapter Two
Sam felt suspended in limbo for a dizzying moment, then everything became
clear again and he smashed into Spiral and Shatterstar, knocking them
apart. It was only then that he noticed that they were no longer in
the training room.
From high in the air, he could see an alien landscape. A massive city
stretched below them, dominated by a gigantic arena in the dead
center. The rest of the city was arranged around the arena in
concentric walled circles. The arena was set on the summit of a
gently sloping hill, causing each circle of the city to be slightly
lower than the previous one. The size and organization of the
buildings shrank with each succeeding level, so that the lowest level
appeared to made up almost entirely of small shacks.
Sam grasped all this in a brief moment, then whirled to see what had become
of the others.
Shatterstar was free-falling, but it did not seem to bother him. In fact,
he appeared to be concentrating intently on his sword, his face a mask
of anger. Spiral seemed to be a bit taken aback by Sam's attack, but
she recovered quickly.
"There is no room for supporting actors in this little drama," she mocked,
shaking a fist at Cannonball. "We only have one *Star.*"
As Sam started downward to catch Shatterstar, he was surprised to see Spiral
disappear abruptly and then reappear directly below the falling
warrior. She was dancing again and her orb had expanded to twice its
normal size. Shatterstar fell into it and stopped suddenly, floating
in mid-air, just outside of Spiral's reach, but within her sparkling
aura.
"You... underestimate me... time dancer!" Star growled. Sam sped toward
them, gaining momentum and focusing his blast field toward the front
again. As he got closer, it seemed that he could hear Shatterstar...
humming?
Spiral laughed maniacally. "Do you think I don't know what you're doing,
Gaveedra?" she exclaimed. "I was there when you first discovered your
mutant ability!"
"AARRRGGGHHH!" Shatterstar's humming escalated rapidly into a sudden shout
as a shockwave of energy burst from his sword toward the still-dancing
Spiral.
"Foolish one!" Spiral mocked. "My magicks can easily deflect your attack
and send it where I wish!" As she spoke, Star's shockwave seemed to
warp around her and shoot outward again, straight at Cannonball.
The impact was incredible. Sam had been struck by one of Star's vibratory
shockwaves on the day they first met. At that time, he had been
amazed to discover that he could actually feel the impact through his
blast field, which normally rendered him invulnerable. That first
attack was dizzying. This one almost brought him to a complete stop.
It was as if being in his homeworld had amplified Shatterstar's power, or
perhaps it had simply been growing over time. Sam knew Star rarely
used the ability since it took a lot out of him. None of that
mattered at this precise moment, however, as Sam's momentum carried
him within Spiral's reach, without his protective blast field.
The blade shot out before Sam even had time to notice it. All he felt was a
tickling between his ribs and then a blinding redness filled his mind,
followed by an all-encompassing blackness.
Star, recovering from his own draining attack, was stunned to see Spiral
reach out and stab Cannonball in mid-air. Sam's blast field kicked in
again briefly, launching him dozens of yards away. Then, as if it
were a dying engine, the field started and stopped several times in a
row as Sam began to fall toward the sprawling city beneath them.
Before Shatterstar could even see where Sam was falling, Spiral's dance took
him somewhere else.
Chapter Three
"I was there when you first discovered your mutant ability!"
Shatterstar's mind flew back, remembering... Yes, Spiral had been there.
Her face was one of the first he could remember recognizing. It
certainly was not a pretty face, but there had been times during his
early years that it had appeared almost kind. More often than not,
however, the perceived kindness was quickly erased by a fit of
malicious anger.
One other face stood out from his "childhood." It was not one he had seen
frequently, but it was one that he never forgot. It was huge, hideous
and bloated, a dirty yellowish color with lighter colored splotches
here and there, sweaty and slimy.
It was that face he saw now as Spiral's teleport dissipated. It was the
face of Mojo V.
"Shatterstar!" the blob exclaimed gleefully, throwing his arms wide. "Where
HAVE you been, dear boy? The arena crowds have been wondering about
you! Why, the letter-writing campaign alone has been overwhelming!"
"Sorry, Mojo, but I'm staying on hiatus!" Star shot back, charging forward.
"What? And miss your season premiere?" Mojo waved his hands in mock horror.
"You wouldn't believe the trouble I went through to get your co-star!
And now you want to cancel! What is it you want? A new costume? A
new personality? Work with me, here!"
As he babbled, Mojo gestured to a pack of guards. Shatterstar fought
valiently, but after dispatching five of the fang troops, the
remaining six were able to overpower him. The last thing he saw was
Spiral moving behind Mojo as the spineless one laughed uproariously.
"Take him to the pens and prepare him!" Mojo V cried. "This ought to get
higher ratings than the last X-Men rerun," he muttered to himself as
Shatterstar was dragged away.
******
"Blast it, Xavier!" Cable shouted, slamming his right fist against the
terminal. "There has to be a way!"
The face of Charles Xavier, founder of the X-Men, frowned sympathetically
from the monitor Cable was addressing. "I am truly sorry, Nathan, but
other than Spiral herself and other servants of Mojo, the only person
I have known who was capable of traveling to the Mojoverse was Lila
Cheney."
"And she could be absolutely anywhere!" Boomer exclaimed from behind Cable.
"I will contact X-Factor," Xavier offered. "Perhaps Guido Carosella has
heard from Lila recently. It is a long shot, but it is all I can
offer."
"Thank you, Professor," Cable answered, running a hand through his hair.
"This is all my fault. I told Shatterstar months ago that we would
return with him to his world and overthrow Mojo V. But I never got
around to it. To be honest, I put it out of my mind and forgot about
it sort of intentionally."
"Nathan, when have you had an opportunity to travel to Mojoworld?" Charles
asked. "X-Force's history has been... tumultuous, to say the least.
And have you ever had access to an interdimensional transporter?"
"You're... right, of course, Professor," Cable agreed reluctantly. "But I
still have to take some responsibility. I never even talked to Star
about his homeworld after that first day or two." Cable hesitated.
"Call me if you hear anything. I have some other contacts I can try."
Xavier nodded and the screen went blank.Cable took a deep breath and turned
to face the rest of the team. They met his gaze and waited. "Well,
until we can find a teleporter, it doesn't look like we'll be speeding
to the rescue," he stated. "For now, Sam & Shatterstar are on their
own. They're two very resourceful and dangerous young men. We
shouldn't give up on them by any stretch of the imagination. They may
just find their own way out of this mess."
The silence that met his words told Cable far more than any answer his
students could have given.
Chapter Four
Images of blackness danced through his head. At times, he thought he might
be awake, but what he saw then convinced him that he was still
dreaming. A man with a ram's head? Another old, old man who looked
strangely... familiar, perhaps? Then there was a brief flash of light
and Sam sank once more into the darkness.
Much later (or at least so it seemed), his head finally cleared. Before
opening his eyes, Sam tried to gauge something about his whereabouts.
He was lying on a soft surface of some kind, perhaps a bed. Somewhere
he could hear someone grumbling under his breath amidst another
clinking, clanking sound. Memories of home made Sam smile as he
realized the sound was that of dishes being hand-washed.
"He is waking up, Lepton," said a voice. Sam opened his eyes. The voice
had immediately made him lose his fear. It was an aged voice, full of
years, yet strong.
The voice belonged to a man sitting beside Sam's bed. He was wrapped in a
long brown robe with a hood that obscured his face in shadows. Sam
could see the tip of the man's chin and a narrow, thin-lipped mouth.
They were inside what appeared to be a small shack, most likely within one
of the extreme outer circles of the city Sam had seen from the air.
Sam saw another small bed on the far side of the shack and two doors:
one closed, apparently leading outside, and one open, through which
the grumbling and dish-sounds had come.
The grumbler appeared in the doorway and Sam realized that not all his
dreams had been imaginary. Walking up behind the old man was a tall,
well-built man wiping his hands on a dish towel. His physique was
impressive, definitely that of a warrior. The handgun and long dagger
hanging at his belt further confirmed the assumption. But what was
most unusual was his head: the man had the head of a ram: grayish
hair, curved horns and long snout.
"'Bout stinkin' time," the ram-man muttered. "We got work to do."
Sam started upward, feeling a tingling in his gut. The old man reached out
slim, four-fingered hand and motioned for him to relax. "Don't be
afraid, Sam... isn't it? Lepton and I will not hurt you."
"How'd ya know mah name, sir?" Sam asked, running a hand down his chest and
stomach. He vaguely remembered Spiral stabbing at him and was
surprised not to find a vicious gash anywhere on his body.
"You have said much in your sleep since you crashed into the ground right
outside our hut," the old man replied. "But have no worries. I think
you will find that we are fighting on the same side: against Spiral
and Mojo V. Quite the lucky circumstance that landed you on our
doorstep, I must say."
Sam thought he caught a twinge of sarcasm or irony in the man's voice in the
last statement, but he was more concerned with vital details. "So ah
am in Mojoworld?" he asked. "So who are you?"
"You *are* in Mojoworld, yes," the old man answered. "And I... I am known
as the Rebel."
"You're part of the rebellion against Mojo, then?" Sam asked, sitting up on
the edge of the bed.
"Boy, he ain't just a part of the rebellion," Lepton snorted. "He's..."
"Later, my friend," the old man interrupted. "Now, Sam. Lepton and I would
greatly appreciate any information you can give us about a friend of
yours named... Shatterstar."
Chapter Five
When Shatterstar awoke, he knew exactly where he was. The knowledge both
discouraged and thrilled him. With a brief stretch, he got up and
looked around his room. Not much had changed.
It was his room, the room he had lived in for four years during the time he
had fought in the arena. It was clean and comfortable, only the best
for the elite warriors. Yet compared to the quarters he had shared
with his X-Force companions on Earth, the room appeared stark and
sterile.
Thinking of Earth made him wonder about Cannonball. He had seen Guthrie
survive worse and knew that he was an "External," virtually immortal,
yet this was a different world with different laws. He could not
count on seeing Sam again.
Mechanically, Star entered the washroom and took a shower. Upon emerging,
he found his costume freshly cleaned and pressed, waiting for him.
His swords were there, as well. Arena warriors were allowed to keep
their weapons at all times, for there was no fear that they would
escape. It was unthinkable. It was also extremely rare for an arena
warrior to commit suicide. From childhood, the warriors had been
indoctrinated with the belief that "where there is life, there is
hope."
Star smiled wryly at the irony. The warriors were taught to live and hope
so that they would stay alive to entertain the masses. Yet the
philosophy of living and hoping was what led so many of them into the
Cadre Alliance rebellion. And escapes from the pens were not so
unthinkable as the warriors were led to believe, after all.
But Star knew that, although he could not see anyone, he, at least, was
under constant surveillance. Mojo was not about to let anything
happen to his star.
Sometime soon, Shatterstar knew he would be thrust into the arena again, to
fight for his life. Although the idea of fighting for the spineless
ones' entertainment repulsed him, he could not deny a thrill of
anticipation. It had been too long since he had fought one-on-one
against a living, breathing opponent. The training exercises Cable
had arranged for them at their various bases had been good, in their
way, but Star craved the physical confrontation of the arena. He had
tried to explain that to Warpath early on during his sojourn on Earth,
but the Native American warrior had seemed reluctant to do more than
trade a few well-placed punches.
Star dressed quickly and stepped through another door, entering a hallway he
knew led to a training area. If he was about to enter the arena
again, he should do it at his peak efficiency. In addition, he might
be able to find some of his former Alliance contacts.
Upon entering the training room, Shatterstar stopped and stared, a wash of
memories flowing over him. It was just as he remembered it. Not much
had changed since the day he escaped from here over a year ago. The
training center was huge - it had to be for the four dozen or more
arena warriors to have the chance to train simultaneously. Far to the
left, he could see the cafeteria. A growl from his stomach reminded
him that he had not eaten for some time. Ignoring the warning, he
turned to look at the rest of the room.
Dozens of hi-tech exercise machines were arranged in the center of the vast
room. On the right side was a mammoth swimming pool and a series of
sensory deprivation tanks. On the left, in front of the cafeteria,
were two dozen miniature training arenas complete with a holographic
control panel which allowed the trainee to program any of hundreds of
combat simulations. Multiple television screens hung from the high
ceiling throughout the room, constantly displaying Mojoworld's only
channel.
Star headed for a vacant holo-arena. He could see many warriors already
training, some he recognized and some he did not. But he did not see
a single warrior connected to the Alliance. Had they all been weeded
out? Or had they escaped, as he had done?
Star programmed an individual combat sequence with a Level 8 holo-warrior as
a warm-up before breakfast. He smiled knowingly at the new safeguards
that were in place in the programming language. They certainly were
not about to let him use it the way he had during his last escape. He
toyed with the idea of re-programming a way around the safeguards. It
would not be easy, but he might be able to pull it off.
He decided against the idea for now. They would be expecting him to try
something like that. Better to wait, bide his time, and seize the
proper opportunity when it came. "Where there is life, there is
hope," he said softly, stepping into the holo-arena.
Chapter Six
"Explain something to me," Sam asked, pulling on the robe the old man
offered him. "The X-Men overthrew the first Mojo. The current Mojo
is number five, right? What happened in the last hundred years?"
The old man sighed and looked away. "My people were foolish," he said at
last. "When Mojo fell, we trusted his clone, Mojo II, The Sequel. He
had helped in Mojo's downfall, after all. But it was not long before
he showed his true colors and the 'status quo' was restored. It took
a few years, but Mojo II was eventually assassinated. Of course,
Mojo III, another spineless one, was waiting in the wings to take his
place. And so it went. We now have the fifth Mojo, who is more like
the first Mojo than any of his predecessors. The more things change,
the more they stay the same."
"And ya think Shatterstar is the key to ending the cycle?" Sam had
cautiously told his hosts what little he knew about Shatterstar.
"Spiral foretold it one hundred years ago," the old man explained. "She
said that the child of a Earth-human and Arize-spawn would break the
cycle of slavery and lead Mojoworld. His name would be Shatterstar.
And now he has returned. This could be the time."
"How has Spiral survived all these years? She didn't look that old."
"Who can say how old Spiral is? Who can say that she is not now serving
Mojo V BEFORE she even served Mojo I?" the old man queried. "She has
danced through time and space, back and forth and there and back so
many times that it is impossible to know whether she is coming or
going. Her age is a question that simply cannot be answered."
The old man turned away and Sam thought he saw a brief flash of light, as if
a camera's flashbulb had gone off.
"Are we going to rescue
Shatterstar now, or what?" Lepton demanded, entering the main room
again.
"Yes," the old man answered. "We have delayed long enough. Let us go." He
turned to the outer door and walked out. Lepton motioned for Sam to
follow him. Sam did so somewhat stiffly. Although he had no wound
from Spiral's attack, he did feel somewhat bruised in places,
apparently from his landing.
As Sam stepped outside, he suddenly felt very glad for his bruises. From
the look of the crater he had created on impact, he certainly could
have been in much worse shape. Apparently, his blast field had still
been kicking on and off as he hit the ground.
"Where are we going?" he asked his escorts.
Lepton pointed upward. "There." Sam turned and looked. The scenery was
quite different from the ground view. As he had guessed, they were in
the lowest ring of the city, composed mainly of small shacks like the
one they had just left. It was not as ramshackle-looking as some of
the villages Sam had seen in Central America, but these shacks, with
their uniform shape and building materials, gave an air of utter
hopelessness. These people did not live here simply because they
could not afford to move up; they lived here because they were forced
to.
Far above them, the massive arena towered. Sam stared in awe. He could see
much of the structure due to the slope of the hill. It was monstrous.
Sam's friend Bobby had taken him to Yankee Stadium a couple of times
during their New Mutants days, but he knew that no sports arena on
Earth could even come close to reaching half the size of this one.
"When a building is constantly being rebuilt and improved for over a hundred
years, it can get pretty impressive, can't it?" the Rebel asked,
laying a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam nodded grimly.
"Come on. Let's find Shatterstar."
Chapter Seven
Shatterstar had just finished his breakfast when he saw the soldiers coming.
Two heavily armed fang troopers were maneuvering through the cafeteria
tables. Instinctively, Star knew they were coming for him. As he
stood, he heard one of the nearby vid-screens proclaim, "Coming up
next: Mojovision presents The Return of Shatterstar, the arena's most
celebrated combatant. Yes, it's the season premiere of everyone's
favorite warrior. Today he faces an opponent that could put an end to
his..."
"I believe you gentlemen are looking for me?" Star asked as the soldiers
approached. One of them merely nodded and motioned for him to follow.
Star did so and the second soldier fell into step behind him.
Shatterstar caught a few resentful glances from some of the other arena
warriors as he walked through them. Were they actually jealous of
him? He had dealt with it before. For some reason he still did not
understand, he was something more than an average arena warrior.
Both Mojo and Spiral--as well as Mojo's programmer, Major Domo--had
had an absorbing interest in him as he grew up. It was as if they
knew something about himself that he did not.
He wondered briefly about Major Domo's whereabouts and smiled. Maybe Mojo
had punished him over that fiasco with Arcade.
The next few minutes were a familiar blur. He was led through various
hallways on the way to the arena. They stopped briefly at the
infirmary for a final medical check and then hurried on to the prep
room.
At the prep room, they were met by the arena monitors,
cybernetically-enhanced regulators of the games. One of them stepped
forward and removed Star's helmet, allowing the second to attach the
control device above his left ear. "Your hair's gotten longer," he
commented drily. "Mod," he spoke to a small robot hovering nearby.
"Schedule a session with the hair stylist for Shatterstar this
evening."
"If he survives," the other monitor observed. "Listen up, Shatterstar.
There are no survival guarantees in this event. As your premiere,
Mojo (all praise to him) has requested a death duel. You are to kill
or be killed. This is either the start of a great new season for you,
or your grand finale. You decide."
Star nodded, replacing his helmet. "I understand." He knew it was useless
to ask any further questions; the monitors were notoriously
tight-lipped. He stepped onto the round platform that would lift him
into the arena. As it started upward, he thought he heard one of the
monitors murmur, "It's a shame..."
Above him, the ceiling opened, making room for his platform to rise through
into the arena. It continued to rise, lifting him high above the
arena floor. Across the entire arena, similar platforms had risen,
each stopping at differing heights. Star recognized the setup. It
was an arrangement known as Circles of Chaos. Once the event began,
he would have to fight his opponent while jumping from platform to
platform. To complicate matters, the platforms would be continuously
shifting in height. A missed jump would mean a dangerous and possibly
deadly fall.
Roving cameras floated here and there, most focused on him at the moment.
On the west side of the arena stood a gigantic vidscreen, displaying
what was currently being broadcast across the entire world. Spineless
ones everywhere sat riveted to their screens to watch the return of
Shatterstar.
Star peered across to the far side of the arena, drawing his swords. His
opponent was rising up, but was too far away for him to identify. He
turned to watch the screen, which was still displaying him from every
possible angle. In a moment, it would profile his opponent and then
the fight would begin.
The image on the screen shifted. Star's opponent was female, not surprising
in itself--there were as many female arena warriors as male. The
first shot of her was from a distance, gradually zooming in. She
appeared to be near Star's height, perhaps an inch or two taller. Her
body was attractive, slim but muscular and well-toned. She was
dressed in a sleeveless yellow skin-tight costume with knee-high boots
that were a light green with a narrow yellow stripe on the front. On
her torso was a black eight-point star, identical to the tattoo on
Star's face. Her long brown hair hung in two braids past her waist.
Star lowered his swords. He knew who it was even before the
camera zoomed in on her face, showing her slim features and grayish
eyes. "Windsong," he whispered.
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©Copyright by Alan Quan. Shatterstar and all other characters
mentioned here are ©copyright of their respective owners. The
fan-fiction written here is ©copyright by Tim Frankovich, 1995.
