Rabid *HF* Chapter 2

By Gene

"Hi, Baby," he said. He dropped the case and bag on the floor and limped over to her desk. She met him halfway and they embraced.

"Hi," she said. "You made it back!" She looked at his right leg. "What's with the limp? I thought you said this would be an easy mission."

"It was. No extensive long-term goals. No armies, bands of terrorists, or cabals of wizards trying to kill me. No off-planet or extradimensional action. Not even any vampires or wanna-be vampires. Just doing a little shopping for the boss in Siberia. Twisted my knee on my way back to the shuttle craft. Probably tore the cartilage again. If I take care of it for a while, I'll be fine. Everything okay here? How's Malachi?"

"He's fine. I'm fine, but even better with you home. Grover has been anxious for you to return. He wants an immediate briefing, and there will be a general assembly of the White Court this afternoon."

"Okay, I'd better get in there then. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Gene picked up his case and bag and stepped into Grover's office, shutting the door behind him.

"Gene! It's good to see you again. And in one piece."

"That's nice for a change, eh?"

"Yes. Wish that happened more often," Grover said. "With everyone."
He put down the file he had been reading and smiled, his yellow eyes somehow conveying cheerfulness in their glow.

"So, how did the mission go?"

"Not bad," Gene said. "I never would have thought there would be an Illuminati cell starting up in Siberia, but there was. All lightweights and novices, forming around one very minor mage who talks a fair game by amateur standards, but really couldn't stand up to any heat at all. I took him out quickly then wiped out everyone else there. Spent another day and a half tracking down the few who got away. Clean sweep. They're all gone. Destroyed their place and took what little they had of mystic value. Including the opals."

Grover's smile broadened. "You got them, then."

Gene pulled a small bag from underneath his gear and tossed it on the desk. "There they are. Four of them."

Grover opened the bag and peered inside. "But there were five."

Gene shook his head. "Not anymore. I had them and was fighting with Brother Krovich - the ringleader. One of the flunkies decided to take a chance and fire at me with his rifle. He nailed me, but also shot the bag." Grover turned the bag over and saw that there was a hole, which Gene had folded over and taped closed. "The bullet destroyed one of the opals before hitting me in the knee. Armor took the brunt of the blow, but it still hurts like hell."

"I see. It looks like it hurts. What else did the group have of value?"

"A few books and an old witch's chalice. We have the books in our library here. I'll add these copies to it. I have the same ones in my office. Nothing really great. The chalice is no biggie, either. Has the essence of a 17th century priestess bound to it enough that if they knew what they were doing they could maybe perform some mid-level rituals, but they were all losers, so it wasn't much help to them. I'll get Gomurr to help me purge the thing later, then we'll destroy it."

"Good. It's been a mild winter. No snow on the ground and it's fairly warm outside. Want to head out on the grounds for another archery lesson later?"

"Sure, I could do that. You practice at all?"

"A bit. Still dropping my arm when I release, but not as much."

Gene smiled. "Yeah, that takes some time. Let me clean up and get a meal in and we'll go. When's this meeting?"

"2:30, after you and I go shooting."

Gene smiled. "Fine by me. However..." he dumped out his duffel bag on Grover's desk. "I'm going to need some more equipment. One of the acolytes in Siberia got lucky. Cast a collapse spell while I was shooting down his friends. Broke my bow to pieces."

Grover shook his head. "You should be able to get one from the practice range. Otherwise, there's time enough to buy another this morning. I'll even treat."

Gene stood and started walking to the door, his weapons case in hand. "You have to. All my expenses and damages are covered while I'm on missions, remember?"

"That's right," Grover said. "But I'd treat anyway if they weren't."

Gene laughed and left, leaving the broken gear on Grover's desk.

***
That afternoon, Grover announced the restructuring of the White Court.  There would no longer be an Inner and Outer Circle or Inner and Outer Courts. There would be one Court with many more ranks. Additional pawns would be added, as well as a rook, knight and bishop for the king and queen. The new pawns would be drawn from what had been the Outer Circle, and each would have specific duties relating to his or her position. This would establish a more lucid concept of rank, while continuing the chess theme carried out in all the Hellfire Courts.

"THere is one exception to the rank qualifications," Grover said. "Any Court member can technically command any pawn or Court member lower in rank than his or her self. The commands of higher ranked members would take precedent, while the commands of the King and Queen would over-ride all. That hasn't changed from our old rules. Except for the King's Pawn and Queen's Pawn. They are the personal emmisarries for the King and Queen. As the King's Pawn, Gene answers only to me. He's only a pawn, so he can't order anyones else. However, he's the King's Pawn, which means he doesn't have to follow orders from anyone else but me. You can still ask him, but he can say no."

"The same goes for my pawn," said Nebula. "We're keeping our pawns busy. No one else needs to be getting in their way."

"I liked my title before," Toby said. "Queen's Assassin is much cooler than Queen's Pawn."

"You can keep your old titles as well," Nebula said. It helps describe your function. But your basic title will be your rank." She looked around the table and saw that this was clear. "Any other business?" she said.

"I have an announcement," Gene said. "Some of you may know this already, but several of you were away for a while, so I'd like to make it official."

"This sounds important," Strider said.

"Doesn't mean it is," Gomurr mumbled. "He might just be telling us of a record-setting bowel movement he had."

"Since I've been here, you've been deceived," Gene began. "Since before that, actually. Long before."

Several members sat up straighter in their chairs. Gomurr looked away from fingernail he was chewing on and cocked an eyebrow.

"When I joined, you were told that Shaman is my father. That's not true. Not even remotely. Shaman is in fact me."

"What?" Grover asked.

"What are you saying?" Nebula asked.

"I never met Shaman until I joined this club. Not knowingly, at least. He may have appeared in disguise throughout my life, for all I know. You see, Shaman is a future version of me. Possibly even an alternate version, now. He's the man I would become if I dedicate my life to the study of magic and become Sorceror Supreme. That may never happen in the future all of us are going to be in, but it happened at some point, in some reality, and there he is.

"He's behind the deception of him posing as my father. And many other deceptions as well. He's also the father of the Court's former ward, Malachi. Gomurr knows that. Malachi has great power, as you know. THat's why the Court took him in. Now you also know where he got the power."

"I can't say we didn't have our suspicions, Gene, but I have to ask, why are you telling us this now? Why not before?" Nebula asked.

"There was too much going on with the club and with Shaman to bring it up before," Gene responded. "Now's the time."

"Now that you've told us, how can we trust you?" Cyclops asked.

"I knew you'd ask that," Gene said. "I'm not here to screw you around. I like what we do here. I'm not going to jeopardize that. I'm trying to fix it. I had it out with Shaman three weeks ago. He got a nice education out of it. I don't think he'll pull this kind of crap again. OR else he'll have to answer to me."

"Are you implying that you beat the Sorceror Supreme?" Diablo asked. "You took him on and hurt him enough to fear you? I don't believe that. He'd wipe you out with a blink."

Gene held up his hand. "Not with the ring on. He loses his power wben I wear it. Even with his martial arts skill, I slapped him around like a rag doll. He's been recuperating the old fashioned way, so he'll have time to think. He needs to think a lot. Ring doesn't come off until I think he's done enough."

"Very nice," Mufasa said. "LEt him think for a while. And heal. He has a lot to answer for."

"All right, Gene. WE appreciate your candor, though it's late in the game. Now on to other business," Grover said.

End Part Two

Gene
Original and Longest-Running Editor
White Bastard/King's Pawn--HellFire Club
Knight of the Long-Necked Bottle
Forbidden by Law to Eat Onion Rings
Selectively Sterile
Wielder of Unbridled Contempt for Humanity