StarFall Comics
A Division of Pullemouttayerhat Productions
A Wholly-Owned Subsidiary of StarFall Innovations
Proudly Presents:
Silver Arrow
#1: The Hornet's Nest
Cover: A young man with closely-cropped brown hair in a silver-gray bodysuit and half-mask with blue gloves, blue boots, a blue belt with numerous pouches, and a set of blue straps across his chest, pointing a bow fitted with a boxing glove arrow at the reader. In the bottom right corner is a blurb stating STRAIGHT-SHOOTING FIRST ISSUE!
Nighttime had fallen on Los Angeles. Still, the freight train had come in late, and the crews had been called in to work overtime unloading it. It wasn't uncommon for trains to come and go at all hours, and most crews worked in three shifts around the clock. In this case, workers were busy unloading a container and placing its cargo on pallets into the back of a waiting delivery truck.
What was unusual was for the workers to carry submachine guns, which many of the workers for this particular shipment did. It wasn't unusual for the guards who roamed the facility to conduct their duties armed - carrying shotguns or pistols - but the presence of sub-guns normally meant only one thing: organized crime.
A black late-model sedan pulled up to where the workers were busy. A few of the workers looked up as the headlights shone on them, then went back to work. An older, heavyset man, dressed in unflattering blue jeans and a red flannel shirt, got out of the sedan, walked a circuit around the work area, and returned to the sedan.
Inside the sedan, the man who'd gotten out turned to the other occupant, a stately yet petite Asian woman.
"Everything looks fine out there, Sun Li."
"You were not gone long enough to be sure," she replied coldly.
"Everything's fine. I assure you."
"You had better be right."
"The main shipment goes to the dealers, right?"
"Yes," Sun Li agreed. "And the rest goes to the drop-off."
"What's the difference?"
"You do not need to know."
Up on the roof of a nearby warehouse, hidden in the shadows, a young man surveyed the scene below through a set of night vision binoculars, while holding a directional microphone in his other hand, pointed at the car. He frowned slightly as both the binoculars and microphone were lowered, saying only two words.
"Sun Li."
The man faded faded into the shadows.
The first hint that something was wrong was a slight rustling through the air, followed shortly by a clanking in the crates back behind the one being unloaded. The guards were instantly alert, but looking around could see nothing.
Then the lights on the one side went out, the bulbs blowing one by one and sending sparks up in the night. One of the guards got jittery, and fired his sub-gun down the small space between the crates, the bullets echoing off the metal siding.
And despite this, not one bullet did anything other then echo off metal.
There was another hissing as something flew through the air, only this time it was easily seen: a mere arrow with grey fletching, but one that released a bright flash of light as it hit the concrete lot, blinding the guards.
In that flash of light, a figure could be seen. In the light of the flare, it was revealed as a young man dressed in a silver-gray bodysuit, with blue boots, blue gloves, a blue belt, a silver-gray half-mask over the eyes, and blue cross-straps holding a large quiver of arrows on his back. In his hands he carried ... a bow?
"It's Silver Arrow!" someone called out.
Sun Li's car immediately started its engine and started moving away. The young man in the outfit immediately fired off a pair of arrows, barely taking time to aim; the arrows buried themselves into the rear tires of the sedan. The car swerved, and the rear doors opened. Sun Li leapt from the car and caught hold of the ladder on a passing train's boxcar; the man who'd accompanied her found himself on his ass on the pavement. Mere seconds later, he discovered that he couldn't move, as he'd been glued in place!
The guards, recovering from their temporary blindness, pointed their guns at the young man, but long before they could fire he'd disappeared.
"Where are you?!" the one cried, firing wildly into the air.
"Here," whispered a voice behind him. A blue-gloved fist reached out of the shadows and hammered into the guard's skull, dropping him to the ground.
Gunfire erupted from the other guards, but once again they mostly hit nothing. There was a slight grunt, indicating that someone had scored a hit.
A cloud of smoke erupted off to one side, followed quickly by a number of arrows. The arrows lodged themselves in the barrels of the sub-guns; three of the four remaining guards dropped their guns and turned to flee. The fourth foolishly pulled the trigger with the arrow still in his gun; the gun exploded, causing the man to fall to the ground.
The young man who'd been referred to as Silver Arrow stepped out of the cloud of smoke, still firing arrows at the ones who were fleeing. Two of the arrows released metal balls connected to a cable upon impact; the forward momentum of the arrows' flight made the balls continue forward as they flew outwards, entangling their targets. The third arrow was tipped with a large head of padded leather, shaped almost like a fist; this arrow hit its target in the head, and he went down.
As the first police sirens started closing in, Arrow knelt down and started applying bandages and pressure to the bleeding thug's wounds.
"I'll ... sue ... you ... for ... this," the thug gasped.
"Go ahead," Silver Arrow replied, never pausing in his work. "Tell a jury how you were stupid enough to pull the trigger on your gun with something up the barrel. You'd be laughed out of court."
Twenty minutes later, Silver Arrow stood beside a police cruiser as the paramedics attended to the wounded thug while the other muscle were herded into a large police detainment truck. A plainclothes officer leaned against the cruiser.
"Good work, Arrow," the officer stated. "This has to be one of the largest drug shipments we've uncovered."
"Thanks, Chief. Might want to have your narc teams take a closer look at the drugs, though. They were splitting the shipment."
"Splitting?" Chief Mitchell asked, stroking his chin. "We'll take another look, of course. How did you know this was going on?"
"Anonymous tip," Arrow replied, smiling.
"Oh, right. Your inside man whose name you won't tell me."
"It's safer for everyone that way."
"So whose thugs are these?"
"Sun Li's. She was here, but she escaped."
"Dammit. And her lawyers are probably already reporting that limo stolen."
"But her lieutenant is among the men you arrested," Arrow explained. "I'm sure he can be convinced to turn state's evidence against her as part of a plea bargain."
"You in pre-law in that college of yours, Arrow?"
"Nope," Arrow replied, smiling. "Pre-med. Same thing, actually." He noted Chief Mitchell's blank stare, and muttered, "Animal House. You should watch it sometime. A true classic."
"If you say so. I couldn't sit throuhg it the first time. Arraignment will be in two days, the usual courtroom. ... Did you really tell that thug to go ahead and sue you over that exploded gun?!"
Morning came, and Hugh Knight stretched in his bed to silence the alarm clock on the end table. He shifted slightly and winced as the pain from where he'd gotten shot the previous night hit him. His uniform contained advanced body armor, but while it had proved bullet-proof against the thugs' sub-guns, the bruises still hurt the next day.
As he headed downstairs, fully dressed, he absent-mindedly fingered the bruise. His mother and father were already up; Hugh said his good mornings, then poured himself a cup of coffee.
"At least eat something if you're going to drink that," his mother admonished him, setting a plate of eggs, bacon, and hash browns beside him. Maria Knight was an attractive, petite hispanic woman in her late 30s, with the first hints of gray coming into her full head of brown hair. She smiled warmly at him.
"Your theatrics made the morning news," his father grunted, lowering the newspaper; the headline read LOCAL SUPER FOILS DRUG IMPORT RING. "When are you going to stop foolishly risking your life like that, son?" Robert Knight was older than his wife by a good ten years, standing about a foot taller than her with a build that suggested that he played football back in his college days.
"Well, dad," Hugh stated, digging into his mom's cooking, "someone's gotta do the job. Maybe one day I'll be too slow or injured to continue as Silver Arrow, but even then I think I'd end up mentoring the next generation." He laughed slightly at this, trying to lighten the mood, but quickly clutched his side.
"Berto!" Maria exclaimed. "You're hurt!" Before Hugh could say anything, Maria was already pulling up his shirt to take a look at her son's injuries.
"Just a small bruise, mom!" Hugh protested. "I'm fine!"
Despite his protests, Maria could see the bruise on her son's side. "Huberto Knight, you were shot! Why didn't you tell us?"
"The uniform protected me," Hugh quietly protested, as his mother brought out the first aid kit, complete with salves and bandages.
"Quit babying him, Maria," Robert remarked with a scowl. "He wants to play hero, let him take his lumps like a man."
"Thanks, Dad," Hugh commented with a sigh.
Several hours later, Hugh met with two of his friends at UCLA. Jeff Hawkin was a young man the same age as Hugh; Jade Wong was a young woman of Chinese and European descent. The three were seated at a table in the University's Student Union, their books open as if they were studying.
"Thanks for the tip last night, Jade," Hugh mentioned. "Any idea what the second drug they were bringing in was?"
"Second drug?" Jade asked, a bit confused. "I'm still not privvy to that stuff yet."
"I might have an idea," Jeff stated, idly turning the pages of an Economics textbook without reading them. "Los Gatos has some new members, and not the usual muscle. La Tigra's been ahem 'influencing' El Gato Negro into getting some more supers into the gang."
"I'll bet," Jade snorted derisively. "She's sleeping with him."
"I don't doubt that," Jeff remarked. "I imagine that'd make the Tong a little nervous."
"Sun Li doesn't like supers," Hugh commented, "and would probably want some insurance against any rivals that do. She's managed to make an off-shore source of Sizzle."
"Sizzle?" Jade asked. "Isn't that the...?"
"The drug the feds developed as a defense against the emerging superhuman population right after the reality quake of 2000," Jeff replied. "It's designed to completely short out a super's powers."
"And Sun Li does control the bulk of the city's narcotics trade," Hugh commented. "It's a good guess. Jade, think you can get close enough to confirm this?"
"I..." Jade set her book down and thought a moment. "I don't know."
"Don't worry about it," Hugh said, setting his own book down. "Look, if you want out, tell me. I don't want you to get hurt helping me." He looked over at Jeff. "Either of you."
"No," Jade replied after a moment's thought. "I think I can find out." But please forgive me for what I need to do, Hugh, she thought.
Several hours later, Jade stood in the doorway of a corporate office which was quite Spartan in decoration. Sun Li stood at the window gazing outwards, over the city. Jade was dressed as a young professional: black calf-length skirt, white blouse, black blazer, and one-inch heels; Sun Li was dressed similarly. Both had their black hair up in buns.
"You are sure of this?" Sun Li asked.
"I overheard it myself when I was in the courthouse after class," Jade replied. "He's going to testify against you as part of a plea bargain."
"Then he must die."
"Allow me to do it."
Sun Li turned to study Jade. "Are you certain you are up to the task, little one?"
Jade didn't flinch under Sun Li's gaze. "Yes, sifu."
"How do you propose you do it?"
The next morning, a lone city police car pulled up in front of the city courthouse. Inside, the older heavyset man from two nights before sat staring out the car's window nervously, scanning the rooftops. Without saying a word, the officers in the car got out and pulled him from it.
On the rooftop across the street, hidden behind a stone fascade, a young woman studied her target through the scope of a high-powered rifle. As the man's head came into view, Jade took careful aim. . . .