Blue Light Productions presents

Chock full of weirdoes, spandex, and stupid codenames(tm),
By Ben Rawluk
(He who is known as 'Plaid Author' on SUPERGUY)
[Cover: The 'Net.Titans' logo is all-new. The cover has a team-picture of
the remaining Net.Titans: On the far left, is Research Lass, then Browsing
Boy, then Linguist Lass, and finally, a human-like blur of green and blue,
that you can't make out. The text below reads 'FORGED ANEW!']
The receptionist sat at the large, oak desk, in the main lobby of LNHQ. His
eyes darted back and forth, reading text on the screen, which was displaying
the day's pre-scheduled appointments. The receptionist wasn't quite sure WHY
Ultimate Ninja bothered have pre-scheduled appointments, what with villains
and net.hero wannabes just bursting in at any unscheduled point in time,
which usually gummed up the works and set them an hour behind schedule. He
glanced at his watch; on 9:45am, and already a pan-dimensional gateway had
been reported, fifteen applicants and arrived, been rejected, and
subsequently left, and five would-be world-conquerers showed up, and had
their evil arses fried. Slow day, he thought to himself. 
The lobby was filled with a rushing of air, and a blur of greens and blues
became visible, the door fluttering slowly shut behind the blur. An instant
later, the blur had been replaced by a red-headed young man in a
blue-and-green spandex costume (With a curious computer-mouse symbol on it),
with a cowl over his face. The receptionist looked the figure up and down,
noticing a mouse-button on the back of his right glove. "Hullo."
The receptionist sighed, looked straight at the face of the net.hero, and
said "Welcome to the home of the Legion of Net.Heroes. I assume that since
you've not caused any property damage since you arrived, your intentions are
"Well, yes. I'd like to join the LNH, you see?" the net.hero answered. "My
name's Kid Quickclick."
"Kid Quicklick...mmmhhmmm...I'll just get you an application form, and alert
Doctor Stomper..."
"No, no. Not Kid Quicklick. Kid QuickCLICK. There's a 'c' between the k and
the l." Kid Quickclick hastily corrected.
The receptionist nodded, handed him a form, and a pencil. He then turned to
some kind of intercom speaker, and tapped a key. "Doctor Stomper, an
LNH-applicant is waiting to try-out."
A moment later, a voice called out from the intercom.<<<"Send him down to
the Peril Room. I'll meet him there.">>
"Right." The receptionist turned back to Kid Quickclick. "Go down the left
corridor. Second door on the right."
Kid Quickclick nodded, and speeded-up into a blur again, and sped down the
Anne Corbel, alias Linguist Lass, learned back in the swivel chair on which
she sat. She sighed, heavily, and looked up at the communications vidscreen,
and said, "Hi, Dad. How's France?"
The man displayed on the screen looked a bit uneasy, before answering, "Oh,
fine, fine. Your mother's well." He paused, and then continued, "I'm still
not sure about this comm-screen you gave us. It's a bit too high-tech for me."
Linguist Lass smiled. "It's the easiest way to talk to each-other face to
face. You'll get used to it."
LL's father nodded, and said, "How are you holding up after the funeral?"
"Ok, I guess. Alex's been holding me together pretty well, but he's in rough
shape, to." she added, "The Net.Titans've been really reduced. It's just
Alex, me, and Research Lass."
LL's father nodded, a bit sadly. "We're thinking of coming up. Maybe we can
help you deal with it." 
Anne nodded, thoughtfully, and wondered what Alex was up to.
Browsing Boy dropped the last of the grimoires into the crate, and closed
it. He glanced around Kid Mysticism's quarters, and made sure he had
everything. Satisfied, he tapped on the gravcomp's controls, programming it
to take the crate to Occultism Kid's quarters; OK had agreed to look after
the books, so the powerful magicks contained therein wouldn't escape and
wreck havoc with LNHQ's already weakened spacetime fabric. Browsing Boy
leaned against the wall, sighed, and decided what he needed was a mound of
cheesecake to take his mind off the events of the last few days.
Doctor Stomper smiled at Kid Quickclick from the control booth of the Peril
Room. KQC cautiously looked around, at the huge chamber's stark metal walls,
ceiling and floors. "Ok, Kid Quickclick. I'm going to be running you through
a basic combat-sim Try-out program." Doctor Stomped called out through the
speakers. "Get ready, set...go!"
Kid Quickclick jumped, as the metal surfaces of the chamber were replaced by
a field. Huge, death-ray emitting robots stamped around him. "This the best
there is?" He asked the air, and was suddenly moving at superhuman speed. In
nano-seconds, he was confusing the 'bots into smashing into each other, or
disconnecting their circuitry and hyperspeed, or simply speeding his
molecules up fast enough to disrupt the robots as he moved right through
them. In about 45 seconds, the holographic field was covered in damaged and
destroyed robots. 
There was a distinctive *click*, then a *whirr*, and the hologramic
surroundings and robots vanished, replaced by the earlier stark metal.
Doctor Stomper had arrived from the control booth, and grinned. "Well done!"
He tapped on a datapad. "You accomplished complete destruction of the
opponents in under a minute. I'm curious; I take it your superspeed has not
produced any problems with your nervous system?"
Kid Quickclick shook his head. "None. Oh, by the way," He gestured to the
mouse-button on his glove, "When I double-click this button, by glove emits
a pulse of concentrated electrical energy."
"Ahh...I wondered about that. Anyway, you're in." Stomper replied, and
handed the net.hero a belt  and access card. "Here's your basic equipment.
Your quarters are on Level 4, room 21." He paused. "I've placed onto the
Net.Titans sub-roster, because that subgroup has been seriously depleted in
power. I'll alert Research Lass, Browsing Boy, and Linguist Lass, your
teammates. You should consider talking with them fairly soon." 
Quickclick nodded, and left the Peril Room, headed from his quarters.
Research Lass carefully pushed her access card into the slot. There was a
distinctive beeping noise, after which, the computer's voice spoke.
<<Research Lass, also known as Resa Kincaid. Access Granted.>> Before the
door slide open. 
Research Lass carefully stepped inside, and glanced about. The
HoloDecStation was similar to the Peril Room, utilitizing force-fields,
hologrammic projection, and automatons, but was not designed to replicate
combat or training simulations. Game-Adventures, simply backgrounds for
recreation, as well as a few other uses, were all availible.
The Net.Titan looked about, before stating, "Computer, run program moonlight
one." The room shimmered, and there was a strange noise. Research Lass
jumped, expecting a moonlit beach for a light jog on, and finding a dark
crypt. "What the hell?!"
She did not have time to further compose her thoughts, before pale-faced
vampires erupted out of holes in the cold stone. The dark beasts began to
converge on, but, using her flight-ring.thingee as leverage, hopped over
them. In seconds, they were on her, and she called about the few ninja
skills she had learned from research....
Amongst the various corridors, the lobby, Cafeteria, and offices area, is
the laboratory of Doctor Vincent Stomper, Chief Scientist and member of the
LNH. The lab had various counters, test-tubes, beakers, bunsen burners, and
a startling variety of Kirbytech. One of active security scanners breeped,
as it registered a variation in the chronal structure of space/time. An
instant later, a blinding light filled the room. Three individuals stepped
out of it. 
"Are we in the right Looniverse?" the first of the three asked, as he looked
around. His costume was strange, with a pair of thick glasses on, and an
"F.B" on his costume. 
"Of course we are! Don't doubt the shadowy guy." The second growled, sourly.
"We better see if we can find a location monitor."
"I agree." The third person nodded, adjusting his pointed hate and white
cloak. "But, who should we look for? Just anyone in the LNH?"
"I'd say either the Net.Titans or Limp-Asparagus Lad." the second replied.
"I met Limp-Asparagus Lad in an alternate dimension,[In a story that was
never posted but both Saxon and I have referred to - Ben] once, and the
Net.Titans in a restaurant, when I first came here, after my Earth was
destroyed." he quickly added, "Before the storm finished off the rest of my
"Sounds good to me, though I'd like to see if we can find Limp-Asparagus
Lass...she's been gone over a year..." the first person mentioned. "Though,
for all we know, time runs differently here from Earth-B."
"So you say." The third muttered. "Hrm. I'd much prefer if this lab were
more...magical. All this technology makes me uncomfortable."
"That's to be expected. After all, magic's why they called you the Eldritch
Research Lass brushed off her hands, glancing down as the hologrammic
vampires, whom she had vanquished, dissipated. An instant later, the crypt
began to rumble, and debris began to fall from the ceiling. Resa sighed, and
began to evade rocks.
The large office was carefully furnished, with various items and bits of
kirbytech, all of which suggested it was at best, an auxiliary lab for Doc
Stomper to use. Stomper sat on one side of the desk, his white labcoat fresh
and clean, while Browsing Boy faced him. The air smelled of mercury fumes.
"What do you mean, there's a new Net.Titan??" Browsing Boy asked, trying to
block out of the stench of quicksilver from some experiment.
"I cleared a speedster --Kid Quickclick-- for LNH membership. Because the
Net.Titans' strength has been severely disrupted by Lurker Lad's new LNH
status, Plot-Device King's leaving, and Kid Mysticism...passing away....I
placed KQC with you guys. Not only will you get some much needed power back,
but you can help train him at the same time." 
"You could have at least ASKED!" Browsing Boy muttered. "I'm not that
comfortable with you just making broad membership changes without consulting
"*sigh* Look, Browsing Boy. I made a decision based on the theory that the
Net.Titans require more power. Which they do. Would you rather I simply
relegated you three to the LNH Research Squad?"
"Fine." Browsing Boy muttered. "Where is Kid Quickclick anyway? I'll go talk
to him....get Resa and Anne, as well."
"He's in private quarters 4-12."
Kid Quickclick surveyed the room. The hospital-sheet-covered bed had his
duffel bag on it. There was a window, looking out onto the impressive LNH
Gardens. A small kitchenette was reachable from the main room, where the bed
was, with the food replicator for when LNHers wanted to eat in their
quarters. A computer console was near the bed, and the door to the bathroom
was quite visible. Moving fast enough not to be seen, KQC succeeded in
putting his stuff away in a few seconds. It was then, that he heard a
strong-sounding *BREEP*.
He glanced around, trying to figure out what it was. He realized it was the
door-buzzer, and quickly opened the door. Standing outside, were three
LNHers. "You must be my..ah... teammates? Doctor Stomper said you guys were
gonna come meet me."
The male hero nodded. "I'm Browsing Boy, this is Linguist Lass," he gestured
to the woman with the hieroglyph on her costume, "And this is Research Lass." 
"Hi." KQC smiled, and adjusted his cowl a bit. "What do you want, exactly?"
"We came to meet you, as Stomper said." Linguist Lass answered. 
"Oh! Of course. Come in!" the three stepped carefully into the room.
He's not so bad, Browsing Boy thought. "Welcome aboard." 
"Yeah. Thanks." KQC responded, and the four more or less stared at each
other, feeling awkward. After a moment, KQC spoke up. "Um...I'm big fans of
yours. I'm sorry for your loss..."
The three nodded in unison, and Research Lass spoke up. "Look....we're
holding a meeting. As a new Net.Titan, you should come along."
"OH?!" KQC responded a bit confused. Why were they having a meeting?
Elsewhen. A lone figure flashed down the timestream, borne on a strange wave
of green ... heading for a particular. 1996.
NEXT ISSUE: As the Net.Titans have a meeting, and come to a decision, a lone
figure travels the waves of time...meanwhile, three prophets of impending
doom warn of the end!
Kid Quickclick ----- Created and Owned by Ben Rawluk
Linguist Lass ------- Created by Martin Phipps, and owned by Ben Rawluk
Browsing Boy ------ Created by ??? and owned by Ben Rawluk
Research Lass ------ Created and Owned by Ben Rawluk
Doc Stomper ------- Public Domain
First Figure "F.B" ---- Created(and owned) by Ben Rawluk, with help from
                        Jamas Enright
Second Figure -------- Created(and owned) by Ben Rawluk, with help from 
                       Saxon Brenton
Third Figured ---------  Created(and owned) by Ben Rawluk
Time-travelling guy --  Created(and owned) by Ben Rawluk
All characters (c) their respective owners, 1996. All rights reserved.

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