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Topics - DigiCom

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Black Panther / Black Panther #167 Preview
« on: November 18, 2017, 02:38:17 am »
Since nobody seems to have noticed:

As you might expect, it's crap.  Shuri is written HORRIBLY out of character, and, with all the subplots running,  Coates has decided to focus on the redemption of bloody THUNDERBALL.

Someone who actually gives a damn will have to read the rest of the issue next week.

Black Panther / Black Panther In: Panther's Prize
« on: September 26, 2017, 07:58:32 am »
Since there seems to be a fad for posting fanfic of late, I thought you folks might be amused by a short piece that popped into my head this morning. 

Panther's Prize

The battered figure limped through the fifth security checkpoint, his once-proud uniform tattered and torn.  He saluted the technicians, wincing at the effort, and entered the sanctum of his leader.

Said leader stood silhouetted on the balcony of his lair, hands clasped behind his back, gazing through the distortion of the cloaking field at the lights of the city.

The soldier cleared his cautiously cleared his throat, and his leader turned, monocle gleaming in the light.

"Report!" commanded Baron Wolfgang Amadeus Von Strucker, Supreme Leader of HYDRA.

"Herr Baron!"  The trooper responded, straightening in the presence of his master.  "The mission was a success.  We were able to infiltrate the embassy and acquire the sample you requested, although my men were captured, and only I was able to escape."

He knelt, extracting a small chest, no bigger than three packs of cards, and offered it to the Baron.

Von Strucker stepped forward, and lifted the chest in one hand.  "The vaunted heart-shaped herb of Wakanda.   With this, Doktor Zola's new clone army will be the equal, if not the better, of that blasted shield-swinging Amerikaner.  You have done well."

"Thank you Herr Baron!"

There was a gunshot, and the trooper crumbled to the ground.

"Nonetheless, you lost against inferior forces.  That is unacceptable."

"Hardly a way to inspire loyalty, Baron," a quiet voice murmured behind him.  Von Strucker whirled, to see a sable-clad figure standing on the balcony.

"The famous Black Panther himself," he snarled.  Disdain dripped from every syllable as he continued, "Do you expect me to be honored 'your majesty'?"

"No, Baron.  I expect you to return what is rightfully Wakanda's, and never disturb us again.  The herb will be of no use to you."

Von Strucker smiled.  "You speak of the limitation of its effectiveness to your pedestrian bloodline, as spoken of in the N'jadaka Diaries.  I have a simple solution to that issue."

He snapped his fingers, and panels opened in the walls, disgorging a dozen emerald-clad soldiers.  The Panther dropped into a slight crouch, muscles coiled.

"All Zola needs is a sample of your DNA, and he will be able to isolate the factor that the Herb requires, grafting it to superior stock.  So it is really quite a minor inconvenience, easily rectified thanks to your presence."

The Baron smirked.  "Did you really believe your infiltrators went unnoticed?  My counter-intelligence branch identified all 5 of your agents within a matter of hours."

There was a distant rumble, and the building shook.

"Seven, actually." T'Challa replied mildly.

And then the lights went out.

The room was soon filled with the grunts of physical exertion, the thuds of combat, and the remarkably memorable scream of a young Austrian trooper named Wilhelm.  When the emergency lights flickered on, mere moments later, the Black Panther stood before Von Strucker alone, bathed in their scarlet glow.

"My property, Baron." he stated, claws glittering.  Von Strucker glanced at one wall, where a glass-covered compartment contained his weapon of choice, the legendary Satan's Claw.  His eyes widened as he saw a dagger protruding from the electronic lock, rendering it inoperable.

He gritted his teeth, and threw the chest at his foe, who deftly snatched it from midair, before turning his back and stepping onto the balcony once more.

"HYDRA will destroy you!" Von Strucker snarled, as the Panther leapt into the night.  "We will crush your pitiful nation and reduce it to ashes!"

A roaring sound was his reply, as a hovering jet decloaked, Tíchalla standing on its outer hull.

"Feel free to try, Baron.  The blood of your men will fertilize our fields, and you yourself will enjoy the hospitality of the Golden City... for the rest of your life."

He leapt gracefully into the open cockpit, which closed as the plane vanished from sight, the Baron's defiant screams the only sounds of its passage.

Shortly afterwards, an unmasked T'challa communicated with his oldest friend via Kimoyo bead.

"Please tell the priests that I have recovered the sacrament, and will be returning to Wakanda immediately."

"Yes, Your Majesty," W'kabi replied.  "We were monitoring your telemetry, and I informed them as soon as you left."

He paused, "I do have one question, however, if I may be so bold?"

T'challa nodded, "Ask away, my friend."

"It was my understanding that we only had six agents at the HYDRA headquarters.  Was I mistaken?  I will need to update the Hatut Zeraze database, if so."

T'challa raised an eyebrow in amusement, "No, you were not.  But what the Baron believes to be true is not your concern, but his."

W'kabi paused, and then chuckled.  "Understood, Your Majesty.  Have a pleasant flight."

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