<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37539709</id><updated>2011-06-07T23:23:06.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Project: Spearhead</title><subtitle type='html'>Its the Australian version of the Suicide Squad. Just with scientists and ASIO agents</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>captain koma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13847486048090833167</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_-rulfBfr7Jo/SCObaltQWEI/AAAAAAAAASg/53Y922hsRgI/S220/koma-profile.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37539709.post-5385069567200024449</id><published>2007-03-29T04:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T06:23:17.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a decicion to make</title><content type='html'>this happen while &lt;a href="http://captainkoma.blogspot.com/"&gt;Koma fights Psykan&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AeXDHkCVW5M/RguxMsQ6hpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/324m-bvYlQ4/s1600-h/aryissmall.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AeXDHkCVW5M/RguxMsQ6hpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/324m-bvYlQ4/s320/aryissmall.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047322638997423762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"I hate this." complains Ayris for the 25th time.&lt;br /&gt;He and I are in a back alley not far from where Koma is dealing with Psykan. How can Koma deal with a telepath. I really don't care. I hate telepaths its like they're cheating being able to read your thoughts. I'm sure Koma's gizmos work but I've learned that if you trust anything other than yourself, your bound to be disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AeXDHkCVW5M/Rgu4v8Q6hqI/AAAAAAAAAAU/72h7iapFD-w/s1600-h/ki-yamasmall.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AeXDHkCVW5M/Rgu4v8Q6hqI/AAAAAAAAAAU/72h7iapFD-w/s320/ki-yamasmall.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047330941169206946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Are you even hearing me?" complains Ayris trying to get my attention. "I said I don't like this not one f.."&lt;br /&gt;He stops talking because, not only do I have a very sharp knife close to his manhood. I 'm holding the BULB activator in his face and my thumb is hovering over the red button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit the temptation is huge. I could kill him or mutilate him. Then again both would be good as well. I smile at him. I put the BULB activator away.&lt;br /&gt;"I knew you wouldn't do it." He replies.&lt;br /&gt;"Its not wise to be a smart-ass when someone is holding a knife to your jewels." I answer and quickly (but carefully) he backs away from the knife. He looks up to me and he's about to give some lame response but his eyes look past me.&lt;br /&gt;"Force." he whispers.&lt;br /&gt;I tell him with hand signals he's supposed to take the aerial path over the buildings while I go around on foot. Its a traditional pincer manoeuvre, even an idiot like Ayris can understand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AeXDHkCVW5M/Rgu7UcQ6hrI/AAAAAAAAAAc/h1zJhhIPuiM/s1600-h/xeenonsmall.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AeXDHkCVW5M/Rgu7UcQ6hrI/AAAAAAAAAAc/h1zJhhIPuiM/s320/xeenonsmall.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047333767257687730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Amazingly it works and we take Major Force, Xeenon and Chroma by surprise. Xeenon takes to the air to deal with Ayris. I have to deal with both Chroma and Force.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AeXDHkCVW5M/Rgu9HsQ6hsI/AAAAAAAAAAk/0XQ8Vzco1s8/s1600-h/majorforcesmall.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AeXDHkCVW5M/Rgu9HsQ6hsI/AAAAAAAAAAk/0XQ8Vzco1s8/s320/majorforcesmall.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047335747237611202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"The clones gone and left you all alone my dear." taunts Force.&lt;br /&gt;Force is an egomaniac but that doesn't mean he's not good at what he does. And Chroma with her steel skin (just think of a female version with Colossus, sexier with better verbal skills) is hard to kill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Force opens fire on me. I take evasive action. The fire was to put me in a position so Chroma could tag me. The impact of her blow knocks me into a parked car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AeXDHkCVW5M/Rgu9hsQ6htI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Ci-jGcFqMjk/s1600-h/chromasmall.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AeXDHkCVW5M/Rgu9hsQ6htI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Ci-jGcFqMjk/s320/chromasmall.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047336193914210002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I blanked out for a few seconds. Chroma is standing over me. I know I've broke a rib or three, possible concussion, and my right hand is hanging of my wrist.&lt;br /&gt;"So ninjas can't take a hit." Its Force. I can hear him walking up. I catch a glimpse of him, his weapons down. Just wait a few seconds.&lt;br /&gt;"You know that surprises me. I thought you were some kind of special ninja girl. Oh well I hope your next life goes better. That is what you ninjas believe isn't it." His taunts are vain and incorrect.&lt;br /&gt;In my left hand there are three throwing blades. In one quick movement they are in the air. In the next.&lt;br /&gt;"Arrrgh! You bitch." screams Force in pain. Chroma turns to aid Force which gives me enough time to roll under the car.&lt;br /&gt;"Its just a flesh wound Chroma, keep your eyes on the.." says Force.&lt;br /&gt;The two look around, but its too late. I've already crawled to the other side of the street.&lt;br /&gt;"There she is." Points out Chroma.&lt;br /&gt;Then I detonate the explosives I put under the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;-BOOOOOOOM!-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I get up and try and get out of there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-voip!-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Koma is in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;continued in &lt;a href="http://captainkoma.blogspot.com/"&gt;Captain Koma&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37539709-5385069567200024449?l=projectspearhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/feeds/5385069567200024449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37539709&amp;postID=5385069567200024449' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/5385069567200024449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/5385069567200024449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-have-decicion-to-make.html' title='I have a decicion to make'/><author><name>Ki-Yama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09677347564937414881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2402/4242/320/918392/stare01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AeXDHkCVW5M/RguxMsQ6hpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/324m-bvYlQ4/s72-c/aryissmall.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37539709.post-2309827577889352046</id><published>2007-03-15T05:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T06:12:45.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The International Guard</title><content type='html'>Ayris makes me so mad. I hate him so much, I hope he dies on this mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell Crater to go after the telepath. He still asks me how he's supposed to find Psykan. Are all men so dumb, just once it would be nice to meet a man who can use more than just the brain in his pants. I give him the locator so he can find Psykan. To his credit Crater just goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayris swaggers in as Crater leaves.&lt;br /&gt;"What's he doing?" he complains.&lt;br /&gt;I tell him Crater's going after Psykan while we go after the other International Guard.&lt;br /&gt;"You and me versus, Commander Force Xeenon and Chroma. Sounds like fun." He smiles wickedly. This guy either thinks he's immortal or has a real death wish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we strike the IG fast and soon we can put them off balance. Crater is immune to telepaths and that should give him and edge over Psykan. All we have to do is find Commander Force, that egomaniac can't be far away. I suggest we lay low and wait for Force to rescue Psykan from Crater.&lt;br /&gt;"Bullshit!" he protest. "No way I'm skulking in the shadows like some assassin." I just glare at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And they say women bitch and complain." I reply and I show him the other little device Koma gave me.&lt;br /&gt;"Thats the activator for my BULB." he explains.&lt;br /&gt;I nod. If I just press the green button he'll have a major headache. If I press the red one his brain will explode. I must say I was tempted to do it then. But I was interrupted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-!VOIP!-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Koma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37539709-2309827577889352046?l=projectspearhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/feeds/2309827577889352046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37539709&amp;postID=2309827577889352046' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/2309827577889352046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/2309827577889352046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/2007/03/international-guard.html' title='The International Guard'/><author><name>Ki-Yama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09677347564937414881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2402/4242/320/918392/stare01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37539709.post-5392846897114566018</id><published>2007-03-15T04:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T05:15:09.581-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ayris has a death wish</title><content type='html'>Ok after the lame goons tried to stop us, Ayris woke up and came to see what the ruckus was all about.&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about a few snappy one liners but then Ki-yama started gazing into mid-distance. You know like when someone is speaking in your mind.&lt;br /&gt;"Telepaths!" she growled under her breath. "Turn your psychic dampners on Ayris."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah I'll just get it from the room." replies Ayris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When we get back to Spearhead I'm going to kill him." I'm quite sure she's serious.&lt;br /&gt;"Just who are we dealing with?" I ask her.&lt;br /&gt;"International Guard. You go after the telepath." she orders.&lt;br /&gt;"How do I do that? It's not like I'm a telepath myself." I answer back.&lt;br /&gt;She throws me a small device. I do what I'm told cause you don't piss off a woman who knows at least a hundred ways to kill you. I may be invulnerable but I'm sure she could find a way around that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37539709-5392846897114566018?l=projectspearhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/feeds/5392846897114566018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37539709&amp;postID=5392846897114566018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/5392846897114566018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/5392846897114566018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/2007/03/ayris-has-death-wish.html' title='Ayris has a death wish'/><author><name>Crater</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09658244268078290503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.allcinemalinks.com/Im%E1genes/WenhamDavid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37539709.post-116869547003751339</id><published>2007-01-13T04:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T05:37:50.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally! some action.</title><content type='html'>I was meditating in the corner when I heard them comming up the hallway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2402/4242/200/235050/ninja%20girl%20copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crater was snoring on the couch. I woke him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are we on?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;I noded and motioned him to shut up by putting my index finger to my lips. He smiled, then looked behind as to ask whether we should wake Ayris.&lt;br /&gt;"No." I said softly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They broke the door down and fired all over the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crater was still sitting on the lounge chair.&lt;br /&gt;"Guys I think you missed me?" he quipped. They fired again and again until they ran out of bullets.&lt;br /&gt;-chk- -chk- -chk- went each gun one by one.&lt;br /&gt;"Hey guys its been nice knowing you all." joked Crater as I leapt from behind his chair and quickly dispatched the intruders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayris walked out of the bedroom as I killed the last of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh so I missed the fun." he said reluctantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They know we are here, and they may know who we are." I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So what let them come. The three of us could take care of everyone on Fiji in two days." spat Aryis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We leave here now." I order. "Stake out a defensive postion and wait till Vortex and the cyclone gets here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Meh!" grumbles Ayris. But he does what I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We find a desterted office. Crater checks in with Prescott. The plan is still on track. Crater tells me that Vortex is only minutes from making landfall. When he hits Suva we begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortuantely I hear someone's voice in my head.&lt;br /&gt;"My name is Psykan and you three have two choices. Surrender or die."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate telepaths.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37539709-116869547003751339?l=projectspearhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/feeds/116869547003751339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37539709&amp;postID=116869547003751339' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116869547003751339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116869547003751339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/2007/01/finally-some-action.html' title='Finally! some action.'/><author><name>Ki-Yama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09677347564937414881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2402/4242/320/918392/stare01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37539709.post-116618971227346577</id><published>2006-12-15T04:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T05:35:12.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The wait is killing me.</title><content type='html'>I am not a patient person.  So having to wait more than 24 hours for Vortex to start up the first Cyclone of the season so he can create enough of a convincing cover for Ki-Yama, Aryis and myself to get in and free these hostages. Was really annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see the genius of Koma's plan is the fact that noone realises that the hostages are actually freed because of the  Cyclone. It also takes the number of witnesses to our activity down to just the guys guarding the hostages. But before any action could be taken we had to wait hiding out in Suva waiting for Vortex's cyclone to come to town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayris went to sleep.  So it was just me and Ki-Yama sitting in the small apartment, in silence. I'd already tried to turn on the TV. I learnt that Ki-Yama hated TV when she put a kife through the screen. Aryis laughed, told me if I opened the door he'd kill me. Said Ki-Yama could come in if she was up for some more, then closed the door to the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was curious and turned to Ki-Yama.&lt;br /&gt;"Well I had to find out for myself Warren. But I don't do it before a job, it ruins my intensity." She continued cleaning her array of knives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't take me long to get really bored. So I asked Ki-Yama about how she got to Spearhead.&lt;br /&gt;"Your new so I'll tell you what I tell everyone." she sighed and put her kife down. "I kill people its what I do. I like doing it. And if you try and ask me about my past again I'll hurt you." Then she picked up her knife and continued cleaning it.&lt;br /&gt;"Can I help." I asked.&lt;br /&gt;"You ever cleaned a knife before?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah but they were all butchers knives. My Dad worked in an abitoir." I replied.&lt;br /&gt;She passed me a knife and a cloth and watched me while I cleaned the knife. After I finished I checked the kinfe to see if it was sharp. I looked up to see a stone in her outstreached hand. I took it and sharpened the blade.&lt;br /&gt;"So your not a complete waste of time are you Warren." she took out a small bag and opened it to reveal her two swords. "Finish the knives. I need to do these."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this was fun cleaning and sharpening kives with a dead hot assassin. It certainly was a a high point. I hadn't had this much fun since the last hot assassin I'd worked with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You've cleaned assassin's knives before." she mentioned.&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. I spent sometime in Japan a few years ago. Got to hang around with some Ninja's, at least I think they were ninja's." There was no need to lie to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What was her name?" she asked with a slight smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How did you know it was a she." I replied. She gave that look all women give you when they know that of course it was a woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok her name was Kim. But I think you mean her code name that was Black Rose. You know her?" I knew the answer, from the fact she looked up when I mentioned her code name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course. Nice to know she's still alive." She went back to her sword. And that was all I got out of her. Next time I'm bringing a video game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37539709-116618971227346577?l=projectspearhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/feeds/116618971227346577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37539709&amp;postID=116618971227346577' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116618971227346577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116618971227346577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/2006/12/wait-is-killing-me.html' title='The wait is killing me.'/><author><name>Crater</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09658244268078290503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.allcinemalinks.com/Im%E1genes/WenhamDavid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37539709.post-116536908061043740</id><published>2006-12-05T17:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T17:38:41.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm in control. I'm in control.</title><content type='html'>Well Koma got us all together for training and I'd never had a more chaotic training session. Well to tell the truth I hadn't trained with others since my days at at Pegasus which was in the 1990's. The main reason why it was so chaotic was Ayris. He's a real arsehole and tried to do everything himself. He was constantly in everyones way. What was amazing was that he almost did everything himself. Eventually while dealing with a wall of adamantium Ayris pretty much got crushed. I could hear his bones snapping under the strain. I ran to see if I could help, neither Vortex or Ki-Yama seemed to care. Koma stopped the session there and I went to help Ayris but he pushed me away and hobbled out of the training room.&lt;br /&gt;Vortex told me that he heals very quickly and it wont be long till he was back. But he didn't come back. Koma came in and said that he'd be taking the rest of the session with us.&lt;br /&gt;Now I remember Koma back when he was a lab rat working for Dr Flinders at Pegasus. Pegasus is a training facility for super-humans which is still run by Dr. Flinders. Koma was there to theorise how we could apply our powers and worked out ways to test them. But seeing him suited up in body armour he didn't look like Dr. Peters. He teleported in and out of trouble and on one occasion used some energy shield to protect him and Ki-Yama from an explosion.&lt;br /&gt;After we finished Vortex came up to me in the change rooms.&lt;br /&gt;"Dude! I didn't think Koma would be like that. He was in the middle of everything."&lt;br /&gt;I agreed with him. But I was wondering as to how Dr. Peters became Koma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3050/2962/1600/498497/ben-mendelsohn01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3050/2962/200/267237/ben-mendelsohn01.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean look at a old picture of him from when he worked at Pegasus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now look at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3050/2962/1600/187331/ben-mendelsohn02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3050/2962/200/648530/ben-mendelsohn02.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Koma was waiting for me outside the change rooms.&lt;br /&gt;"Warren, come with me. I have a surprise for you." He was similing. And quickly he walked down the hallway. I followed. I was still hurting from the training session. He turned around to see me hobbling he stopped and waited for me.&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry" He appoligised. "I forgot that was your first training session. I'll slow down."&lt;br /&gt;He didn't do as much as me but he wasn't even looking tired. How the hell was he doing it. Eventually we got to a security door it was one of those ones with a keypad and passcard entry. Koma just walked up to it and opened it, it musn't have been armed.&lt;br /&gt;We entered into what I knew was a hanger. There was a plane and someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3050/2962/1600/346330/av_quinjet_full.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3050/2962/200/851871/av_quinjet_full.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pfwoarr!" I exclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes she's she's marvelous. Isn't she." agreed Koma.&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah she's stunning and the planes pretty good too." I added.&lt;br /&gt;Koma just looked at me and shook his head.&lt;br /&gt;"This is Ms. Justice Nichols she's the head of aircraft enginering here at Spearhead." introduced Koma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3050/2962/1600/507026/justice_nichols.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3050/2962/200/241757/justice_nichols.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Which really means I'm a plane mechanic." quiped the very nice Ms Nichols.&lt;br /&gt;Now normally I'd jump right in and probably get slapped in the face or get something. But this was Koma's show and he'd already given me the no flirting with Spearhead staff speach.&lt;br /&gt;Damn! this was going to be hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37539709-116536908061043740?l=projectspearhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/feeds/116536908061043740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37539709&amp;postID=116536908061043740' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116536908061043740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116536908061043740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-in-control-im-in-control.html' title='I&apos;m in control. I&apos;m in control.'/><author><name>Crater</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09658244268078290503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.allcinemalinks.com/Im%E1genes/WenhamDavid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37539709.post-116476770290503898</id><published>2006-11-28T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T18:35:02.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter to Mom 29/11/2006</title><content type='html'>Dear Mom,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to tell you this, so I better just come out and tell you.&lt;br /&gt;Austin is back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's been back at ********* for some time. And yes I tried to get him back, but he's refused for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news I've been promoted to head of the ********* labs. Its been a long time comming and I'm happy about, sort of. It came through Austin he's the new AA he promoted me and thats the reason why he's wary of us getting back together. Also he's on the rebound. I knew he'd have other girls but his last girlfreind was a real surprise. Austin himself is different, he's more confident. There's still that air of superiority yet its now all the time not just when dealing with science.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what you'd be saying now. Annabell stop mooning over that Austin he was only a freind. And yes your right he is but I always wanted more than that. Then you'd tell me that I should wait for him to realise this. Unfortunately at the party we held to welcome him (all my idea by the way, oops!) Austin (or Captain Koma as he calls himself these days) spent all his time talking to **-**** the asian assassin. I got all huffy and I drank a bit too much and I made a small scene. I'm still embarresed about it. Austin is all cool about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I hope everything is going well for you and Danny. Keep warm with winter comming, its getting hotter here. I still can't get used to it being hot at Christmas and I've been at ********* for 8 years. I'll try to get over after Christmas things are starting to get rushed around here what with the Adminsitrator being so pernikity over the ********** project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I'll write again next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till then Love you Mom.&lt;br /&gt;xxxx&lt;br /&gt;Annabell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS - Sorry about the blanked words they get removed from my e-mails automatically.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37539709-116476770290503898?l=projectspearhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/feeds/116476770290503898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37539709&amp;postID=116476770290503898' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116476770290503898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116476770290503898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/2006/11/letter-to-mom-29112006.html' title='Letter to Mom 29/11/2006'/><author><name>Annabell Lorenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708158958927327395</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3050/2962/1600/ncis_bio_perrette.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37539709.post-116415842838086871</id><published>2006-11-21T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T17:20:29.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories I'd rather forget</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I woke up this morning from the dream again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2402/4242/1600/sonia_couling007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2402/4242/200/sonia_couling007.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Its always the same I wake up just as he  takes me in his arms.&lt;br /&gt;I hate it almost as much as I hate being here. If it wasn't for that damn BULB they put in my head I'd kill everyone here and leave. So I get up an get ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2402/4242/1600/sonia_couling037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2402/4242/200/sonia_couling037.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;At least all the facilities here are first class. The apartment they gave me is brilliant. And the wardrobe they gave me is just brilliant. But then I'm disturbed by the new Assistant Administrator he's trying to be a real hard case. And he's dressed in some kind of battle armour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2402/4242/1600/koma%202_edited.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2402/4242/200/koma%202_edited.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Get suited up. Crater is here we need to sart group training immediatley." he orders.&lt;br /&gt;He looks like somekind of Doctor Doom reject. I don't hate him, yet.&lt;br /&gt;So I suit up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2402/4242/1600/opr00O63.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2402/4242/200/opr00O63.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37539709-116415842838086871?l=projectspearhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/feeds/116415842838086871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37539709&amp;postID=116415842838086871' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116415842838086871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116415842838086871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/2006/11/memories-id-rather-forget.html' title='Memories I&apos;d rather forget'/><author><name>Ki-Yama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09677347564937414881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2402/4242/320/918392/stare01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37539709.post-116364888876681057</id><published>2006-11-15T19:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T04:14:19.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Never make decisions when drunk</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6221/4219/1600/david_wenham_06.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6221/4219/320/david_wenham_06.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I was minding my own business, relaxing by the pool when these two showed up.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6221/4219/1600/2-X_Files.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6221/4219/320/2-X_Files.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;They introduced themselves as Mathews and Brennan. Brennan's the redhead. They were spooks but whose were they. They told me my talents were needed elsewhere.&lt;br/&gt;Now this wasn't the first time I'd had some government agency or corporation after my talents and when I was down a dollar or two I'd do these jobs.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Oh if you hadn't read my bio you wouldn't know I'm indestructable. Well I am, just believe it.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;So I do the hospitable thing and invited them in. I asked them if they wanted something to drink, I was in the middle of a very large Daiqauiri I made recently. Mathews politley refused. Brennan (thats the chick who in my slightly inebreated state looked very nice.) asked for Tea, white 3 sugars. &lt;br/&gt;"Your more than sweet enough." I replied. Brennan smiled back. &lt;br/&gt; Mathews gave me a greasy look. He either wanted to get this over with or he had thing for Brennan.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;"Mister Schniender our offer comes from Pegasus." explained Mathews. &lt;br/&gt;I dropped my Daiqauiri and looked outside for troops, Sentinals, anything. One time when the Japanese were after me the sent these ninjas. They didn't hurt me but one of them was really hot and well we made a deal. Good Times, wish they'd come back.&lt;br/&gt;"There are no troops or Pegasus Agents backing us up." sad Brennan. Her and Mathews were still where I left them.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;"So your here to give me an offer from Pegasus and you didn't come with backup" I choked a laugh. "Look what makes you think I'll go back to Falstaff."&lt;br/&gt;"Its not Falstaff who wants you." said Brennan.&lt;br/&gt;"If its Crowbar you can go to hell." I snapped back. "There's no way I'm runnin around playing secret super agent."&lt;br/&gt; "Its for Spearhead. The deal is simple you go work for Spearhead and you get paid for it." Mathews answered dryly.&lt;br/&gt;"Spearhead is for criminals, murderers and psycho thrill seekers. What happens if I don't go?" I didn't want to work there but there was always an ultimatum. Some incentive.&lt;br/&gt;"We'll pay you double your normal fee." offered Brennan.&lt;br/&gt;I was so pissed off I was going to give these spooks a piece of my inebriated mind.&lt;br/&gt;"There's no incentive that could...." I stalled mid-sentance. "Double what I got paid last time?"&lt;br/&gt; "Yes double." confimed Brennan.&lt;br/&gt;"Hey I'm invulnerable whats a few suicide missions. Where do I sign up?" Hey I got paid  half a million US last time. I'm not gonna give up a cool million.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Now it cold have been the Daiqauiri talking then but I think I might have asked Brennan for a little celebratory skinny dip in the pool. Anyway I'm at Spearhead now and despite some regrets I remind myself I'm invulnerable. There's nothing I can't deal with. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Damn I gotta stop making those damn Daiqauiri's.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37539709-116364888876681057?l=projectspearhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/feeds/116364888876681057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37539709&amp;postID=116364888876681057' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116364888876681057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116364888876681057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/2006/11/never-make-decisions-when-drunk.html' title='Never make decisions when drunk'/><author><name>Crater</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09658244268078290503</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.allcinemalinks.com/Im%E1genes/WenhamDavid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37539709.post-116337433620596410</id><published>2006-11-12T15:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-12T15:32:16.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Koma's Log 001</title><content type='html'>Spearhead is pretty much the same as I left it. Super-Humans and Super-geeks with a some Guards, Pilots and ASIO administrators.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time though I seem to be caught in the middle of all of it. I'm here as the other Assistant Administrator. I oversee the Super-Human team and the lab. The lab seems to be ok but the Slipstream project worries me. I hope Annabell can handle it for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Super-Humans are intresting and as the reports state they work well togther. Well they did until one of them died falling into a lava flow. So now I've got to introduce a new member. He's an ok guy but wether he can work with the others is up to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Koma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37539709-116337433620596410?l=projectspearhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/feeds/116337433620596410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37539709&amp;postID=116337433620596410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116337433620596410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37539709/posts/default/116337433620596410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://projectspearhead.blogspot.com/2006/11/komas-log-001.html' title='Koma&apos;s Log 001'/><author><name>captain koma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13847486048090833167</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_-rulfBfr7Jo/SCObaltQWEI/AAAAAAAAASg/53Y922hsRgI/S220/koma-profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
