Vinton Chronicles #13

He wasn't one of the greats. He didn't appear on the news for stopping a madman from blowing up the city. Not one of the earth saving, the team joining, and gritty heroes' people seemed to love so much. Hell, he didn't even wear a cape, his shoulders weren't broad enough. Maybe one day he could wear a cape. Be a real hero.

This was what he loved.

A couple of baddies and his absurdly big great sword he nicknamed Little Jet. Despite the setting seemingly familiar to many, he managed to stand out in the superhero crowd. There was no costume he wore, no special title he used to protect his identity. He would leap and vault across rooftops in his runners letting his unzipped brown hoodie flap in the wind. People thought his jeans would constrict his movement but he only wore very baggy jeans to compensate. His brown fluffy hair would bounce as he'd land on a new building, his unkempt hair a giant curly knot on his head.

He loved a good run, but that wasn't what he was doing.

His fingers curled around the hilt of his sword, gripping it tightly. Most thought his sword would've been too heavy for a teen of his size to pick up or let alone wield. He always proved them wrong. He could swing and slash with Little Jet like it was an extension of his own body. The sword was always light for him despite how heavy it was for others. He had been trained to use it by another superhero who had been killed a few years prior. Since then he carried on his mentor's legacy alone, battling the crime in Vinton by himself. It meant fighting the good fight and standing up for what was right, and occasionally beating up a couple of thugs who would terrorize civilians.

That was what he was doing. That was what Jet loved.

Standing at the entrance to an alleyway Jet stared down the three curious thugs in front of him. They were half man, half machine. The obvious leader, the tallest of three, only had half a human face. His right eye was replaced with a bright red orb; Jet figured it must have been a sensor of some kind. Arms were replaced with robotic limbs and the fusion of flesh and technology was taking its toll. What skin was left was rotting off. The other two thugs were nearly identical. Metallic visors wrapped around their faces to shield them from gunfire. Although their enhancements weren't as severe as their leader's they still boasted a couple robotic limbs.

Jet wasn't the smartest guy around and he was well aware of it, but he knew where these cyborgs came from. The Brigand was a gang in the city that specialized in techno-infused thugs who favored firepower over tactics. It worked for them; they were easily the most powerful gang in the city. The fact that Jet had caught these three mugging a woman confused him, however; it was small potatoes for this gang. Regardless Jet wasn't going to let this carry-on.

"Alright, you smelly jerk faces, let's do it," Jet said with an awkward conviction. Jet also wasn't very good at the banter end of the superhero gig. Jet now had the thugs' full attention regardless and the leader pointed his finger at Jet.

"This is what we've been waiting for! Test his mettle!" the leader commanded and the two cronies charged at Jet. Grinning Jet charged back at the two. With a deft leap, Jet was in the air over the top of the two, clearing them with ease.

"Metal? Don't you guys already have enough metal?" Jet asked as he landed. Pivoting on his right foot Jet spun around. Swinging the broad side of his sword out wide he hit the two thugs in the back before they had a chance to react. The two tumbled from the hit and fell forward crashing onto their stomachs and rolling.

"I don't think you guys need more. Seems excessive," Jet said as he turned back to the leader. The leader growled and from his robot arm, a compartment slid open. A small missile emerged from the opening and rocketed towards Jet.

"I meant your fighting ability you moron!" the leader shouted as the missile flew towards Jet.

Jet ran forward and ducked low, letting the missile fly past him. It flew out of the alley and people in the area all gasped and shrieked as the missile flew out and hit a bakery across the street, breaking the front window.

"Yeah, well I'm going to give you a five finger discount-" Jet started to say as he neared the cyborg. The cyborg punched at Jet but Jet grabbed his sword with one hand and used the broad side to block the attack. With his free hand Jet formed a fist and finished his sentence, "-on facial surgery!"

The punch hit the leader in the face hard and made him crumple in pain. For a moment Jet thought he was done. Then from behind the two thugs he first took down were back on their feet and about to strike. Jet had been trained well and could feel the two approaching, so with a well-timed spin Jet lashed out and hit one of the Brigand thugs in the chin with the pommel of his sword. The man fell to the ground unconscious.

Faster than the other thug's eyes could follow Jet ducked down low to dodge the impending punch. Bending both his legs, Jet used them as a springboard and jumped up. Jet kicked out in the air and hit the thug in the chin knocking him straight off his feet. The now unconscious man landed on his back and Jet stood triumphantly over the three muggers he had just beaten for a few moments.

Yeah, he loved doing that.

"You'll…do," the leader wheezed out as he began to fade out of consciousness.

"Do what? Kick your butts? Any day of the week pal," Jet remarked as he started to walk away.

"Please…stop talking… just take this," the leader said as he lifted up a small card. His curiosity piqued, Jet walked over to the leader's body and took the card from his hand.

"We were just trying to get the attention of someone like you…our boss, Epsilon would like a word," the cyborg finished and dropping his arm he fell unconscious. Jet looked at the card for a few moments and noticed it had an address on it. Not sure what to think, Jet suddenly heard incoming sirens which distracted him. Someone had called the police, which meant it was time for Jet to leave.

Later Jet was standing on a rooftop, the card he had received in one hand and his phone in the other. Phone up to his ear he listened to the rhythmic ring waiting for the person on the other end to pick up. With a click he heard his friend Hunter say,

"Jet, what can I do for you?"

"Why do you automatically assume I'm asking for a favor?" Jet asked back, almost insulted.

"Have you ever not asked me for a favor?"

"Well no I guess not."

"Deductive reasoning my friend. Now again, what can I do for you?"

While Jet prided himself on being out in the field Hunter took a more procedural approach. By gathering the evidence and cataloging properly Hunter hoped to take the gangs down through the legal system.

"Okay well get this. I beat down these thugs, probably Brigand, and afterward they told me to go meet their boss Epsilon. They said it was because they were looking for someone like me," Jet explained, barely taking a breath.

"Epsilon…Epsilon…that does sound familiar. Give me a second," Hunter said and then Jet listened for the patter of Hunter working away on his computer. Despite the fact that Hunter was the same age as Jet he had built up an impressive database of most major criminals in the city. Most of it came from Hunter's late father who had been working on it until he was gunned down by the Brigand, but Hunter had been adding to the database for years of his life.

"Alright Epsilon…huh, well that's interesting," Hunter commented to himself.

"Interesting? What's interesting?" Jet asked.

"Well according to this Epsilon was the Brigand second in command. He was until about six months ago and he hasn't been heard from since. Just kind of dropped off the radar," Hunter explained. Jet let the information digest for a few moments as Hunter kept reading.

"Well if this guy is bad news maybe I should pay him a visit," Jet remarked.

"Wouldn't recommend that Jet," Hunter said with a tone of concern.

"Why not?"

"Okay well obvious reason that's it's a trap aside, this guy is bad news. I have lists of heroes here who he personally killed. Let's not add you to that."

"You know me, Hunter, I never back away from a challenge," Jet said with a grin. He could hear more protests from his phone as he pressed it to end the call.

Fighting was what Jet liked to do. If there was a challenge ahead Jet was always eager to take it, despite not knowing what lay ahead. There was times Jet was the definition of leaping without looking.

With a grace that betrayed his personality Jet leaped from building to building as he made his way to the address. As he ran across the rooftops there were times he seemed to float after taking each step. Each leap and bound sent Jet that much further to his destination. His body would extend fully as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop.

If one stood higher than one he was on, he would hop and then reach for any foothold or a ledge he could grab, and then he would scramble to the top of the next roof. Never did it break his stride, always he pushed on at an almost breakneck speed.

Finally, he skidded to a stop as he saw his destination. From his high perch, he looked down at an old warehouse. The exterior was run down with several cracked windows and the paint had long since run, making Jet doubt himself for a few moments. After checking the card he had received and then looking around at nearby streets to verify the location, Jet knew he was in the right spot. Eyeing an entrance into the warehouse, Jet deftly climbed down the building he was currently on and made his way over to the factory.

The doors swung open with a loud bang that echoed throughout the warehouse.

Jet lowered his foot from having kicked the doors and he yelled, "Special delivery! A whole can of kick butt just for you!" However as Jet walked in he was surprised to see the factory was completely empty. The interior was in as rough shape as the outside and there was nothing stored there, no more thugs waiting to fight him.

The only thing waiting for him was an odd metallic man sitting in a chair placed in the very middle of the warehouse. It was almost twice the size of Jet and looked like it was made of pure steel. The glimmer of the sun through the windows reflected off it in all directions. Its head curved backward in an egg-like shape, and its eyes were just small slits that glowed red.

It took Jet a few moments to realize who that was and a few others to realize he was a robot.

"Uh, Epsilon I guess?" Jet asked as he walked into the warehouse, the doors slamming shut behind him. The figure stirred and stood up, a loud whizzing sound hummed as the hydraulics in its legs kicked in.

"I assume you are the one my men sent to meet me?" Epsilon asked in a strange metallic voice. Jet was taken aback by this for a few moments, but his wits returned to him.

"You mean those guys I beat the crap out of? Yeah that's me then," Jet responded, and a low rolling hum emitted from Epsilon. It was as if he was laughing.

"Very cute. You're probably wondering why I wanted to see you."

"Meh. Not really."

"Then that makes you very brash or very stupid. Probably both," Epsilon retorted without missing a beat making Jet scowl. Epsilon continued, "I asked you to come here to kill me." Jet's eyes widened and he took a step back.

"Kill you?"

"You see I used to be the Brigand's second in command until I refused to kill a small business owner for not paying his protection fees. My father," Epsilon explained. "So as punishment I was expelled from the Brigand but not before they spared no expense trapping me in this body. And killing my father regardless." Caught off guard by the whole circumstance, Jet found himself at a complete loss for words.

"I can't feel anything in this body, and I am done trying to live. I just wish to die," Epsilon finished. Several moments passed. A small howl of wind could be heard just outside the factory. Jet stared apprehensively at Epsilon. Epsilon watched Jet with his glowing red eyes.

"Well I feel bad for you and stuff, but can't you just… I don't know, off yourself? Or get one of your cronies to do the job?" Jet asked, feeling uncomfortable just talking about the concept.

"Unfortunately I can't. A programming subroutine built into this damn robot body I can't overcome prevents me from killing myself or letting myself be killed. Self-defense protocols kick in whenever this body is threatened. I must be overwhelmed. Hence why I sent my men to find a good fighter," Epsilon continued to explain.

"Oh yeah because that makes sense," Jet muttered to himself sarcastically.

"Please, I can't live like this anymore. Kill me," Epsilon begged.

Jet and Epsilon interlocked gazes for a few moments. Epsilon's eyes seemed to stare into Jet's soul, judging his character. Despite Epsilon's appearance and voice, Jet felt like he could see something in his red eyes. Something human.

"Forget it. I'm not a killer," Jet remarked as he turned to walk away.

"I want to die," Epsilon argued.

"Yeah well, I only want to beat bad people up. I don't want to kill any of them," Jet said as he continued to walk away.

"Why? Is it because heroes don't kill?" Epsilon asked.

"Yeah. Something like that," Jet muttered, trying with all his might to stay true to his convictions.

Epsilon stood there for several moments. The only sounds that could be heard in the factory were the hums of Epsilon's internal motors and Jet's footsteps as he walked away.

"You won't have a choice."

Suddenly metal shutters fell down over every window and door, blocking all the exits in a loud clang. Jet spun around to face Epsilon, only to see turrets had emerged from crevices that slid open from several different openings on his body.

"When my systems go offline, the shutters will open and you may leave," Epsilon said. There was a brief pause and suddenly missiles flew forward from the turrets in a blitz. Jet's eyes darted around rapidly as he watched them home in on him. He rolled off to the side narrowly dodging several missiles as they flew past him. The missiles impacted the walled-off door and explosions felt like they shook the whole warehouse. But the door wasn't even scratched, revealing to Jet escape wasn't an option. Jet stood up and faced down his opponent.

"How about I beat the snot out of you until you open the shutters anyway?"

Charging at Epsilon with his sword out wide in one hand Jet swung wildly. Epsilon blocked the attack with his forearm, metal scraping off his arm as Jet's sword scratched it. With his other hand Jet punched out at Epsilon and hit him in the face. He immediately realized he hadn't thought things through as the skin on Jet's hand cracked open from the impact. It felt like his whole fist was numb. Punching a man made of metal was not the best idea. That moment of shock was all it took for Epsilon to respond and punch Jet back, hitting him in the stomach.

The hit sent Jet off his feet and flying backward. Jet recovered into a roll and managed to stand back up but the air had left his lungs. Panting heavily, Jet managed a small grin. Jet dashed back at Epsilon and jumping up in the air Jet tried to kick Epsilon. Epsilon easily blocked the kick and as Jet landed back on his feet he was forced to lean back to dodge a metal fist from knocking out his teeth.

Pivoting Jet spun on his foot and swung the broadside of his sword hitting Epsilon in the side. Epsilon stumbled from the impact and Jet followed up by trying to bash Epsilon with the butt of his sword. However Jet suddenly felt like his arm was caught by a snag as his swing was interrupted. Epsilon had reached out and grabbed Jet by the wrist and Jet was unable to move his arm. One moment of shock was all it took.

Epsilon's punch connected Jet squarely across the face. His teeth felt jarred and his vision blurred. It didn't occur to him that he was off his feet flying across the warehouse until he landed. Shakily Jet stood up and through his now swollen left eye, he could see Epsilon gearing up more missiles.

Epsilon wasn't a problem he could punch away, Jet realized. Jet knew then he wasn't leaving without doing something drastic. As much as he wanted to be a hero, as much as he didn't want to kill, he didn't want to die either.

The missiles flew at Jet and Jet charged back. Dodging the missiles, Jet juked to the side, ducked down low, and then jumped up and reached for a missile. With one fluid motion Jet grabbed the missile and spun mid-air all the while keeping the missile's momentum going. He let go of the missile and sent it back at Epsilon. It hit Epsilon dead on making the metal man grunt in surprise.

Smoke enveloped Epsilon so he couldn't see and a look at his chest revealed the integrity of his hull had weakened considerably. As the smoke cleared Jet was nowhere to be seen, but something above him caught Epsilon's eye and when he turned his head to face it there was nothing he could do.

Jet descended upon Epsilon and stabbed down into Epsilon's chest, his sword impaling straight through into the ground.

The sword engraved into the ground held them both up. Sparks flared and the sound of scraping metal echoed throughout the warehouse. Jet held onto the hilt of his sword with both hands, his feet resting on Epsilon's body as he remained suspended off the ground. Jet stared into Epsilon's red eyes as they began to fade away. No words were said as Epsilon went offline. Jet jumped off Epsilon and extracted his sword.

Epsilon's body crumbled to the ground in a loud clang and Jet found himself stumbling backward. His back hitting a wall, Jet let himself slide down into a seated position. He buried his face in his arms letting tears slip and soak into his sweater.

The shutters in the warehouse opened and let the sun back in. If one looked at the way the sunbeams reflected off Epsilon's face, one would almost have thought he was smiling.

Jet wasn't one of the greats. He didn't appear on the news for stopping a madman from blowing up the city. Not one of the earth saving, the team joining, gritty heroes' people seemed to love so much. He wanted to be a real hero, but how could he be if he couldn't wear a cape.

His shoulders weren't broad enough.