Outside the window of Edwin Cord’s office, a man in green armor, resembling the Guardsmen armor used by security at the Vault, hovered up to it. He tapped on the glass and Edwin Cordpressed a button underneath his desk. The plane of glass slid open and the armored man hovered inside, lowering himself until his boots touched the ground.

“How are they doing?” asked Max.

The man reached his hands up to the helmet. There was a hiss of air as the magnetic locks disengaged and he removed it, revealing the face of Curtis Elkins beneath. Curtis was once a Guardsman at the Vault before Max’s father, Orwell, offered him the opportunity to lead a vigilante group for the express purpose of hunting fugitive criminals.

“We haven’t had much action since our skirmish with the Thunderbolts, so they’re a bit rusty,” said Curtis, referring to his teammates.

“We have to make a move,” said Edwin.

“Escapees?” Curtis referred to the rash of breakouts at various superhuman prisons across the world, caused during the Noh-Varr invasion.

“Eventually, but first a bit of a training exercise, make sure the Jury is ready,” said Edwin. He picked up a file from his desk and handed it to the man who has come to be known as the Sentry.

Curtis opened it up and saw a photograph of a young woman with brown hair and a black and gold costume. He looked through some of the information there.

“Joystick?”

“Known criminal, had affiliations with the Great Game and then later appeared with the Masters of Evil,” said Edwin. “These days, she’s calling herself a hero.”

“You must be joking,” said Curtis. In his career, he had seen many villains supposedly “reform” and become trusted by the heroes without reservation. The Jury’s first target was one such character—the creature called Venom.

“Afraid not,” said Edwin. “She’s running around with a group of kids calling themselves the New Warriors.”

“Thought they were inactive.”

“So did I. This looks like a new group.”

Curtis looked up from the file. “Oh?”

“From what little information I’ve managed to gather on these kids, only two of them were part of the previous incarnation of the Warriors,” said Edwin. “Aside from Joystick, the rest are relative unknowns. One or two of them have popped up a few times, but nothing major. No ties to any of the big leaguers like the Avengers or the Fantastic Four. You think you can handle them?”

“If it comes down to that.” Curtis closed the file and dropped it on the desk. He picked up his helmet and placed it back on his head, locking it into place. “I’ll prep the team.”

JUDGMENT DAY

Part I: Opening Arguments

By Dino Pollard

“How is it?”

Greg Willis looked across the small, round table at his friend and teammate, Mattie Franklin. She smiled at him as she sipped the drink from the cup with the Starbucks label on it. Greg had a similar one in his hand.

“Pretty good,” he said.

“Bet you don’t have any Starbucks out in the cornfields,” said Mattie.

“No, we do—DeKalb’s a college town,” said Greg.

Mattie blushed. “Oh… sorry.”

Greg smiled. “It’s okay. Easy mistake to make with small towns in the middle of nowhere, I guess.”

“What school?”

“Northern Illinois,” said Greg.

“So if you live in a college town, why didn’t you go to school out there?” asked Mattie. “Probably would’ve been cheaper than coming all the way to New York.”

“Yeah, it would’ve been and my parents tried to get me to stay, but I was so sick of that place,” said Greg. “My friends and I would try to go to Chicago like once a month or so. When it came time to go to college, most of them went to NIU. I couldn’t stand being like, seventy miles away from the city and no way did I wanna live at home. So when I got accepted to ESU, I was psyched.”

“What’s your major?”

“Hell if I know. I’m still undecided,” said Greg. “So why aren’t you in college?”

“I’m… well…” She hesitated. Although her and Greg had gotten into the habit of spending time together, she still wasn’t sure how he’d react if he found out she was only sixteen years old. After all, he was a college guy. Why would he waste his time with a girl in high school?

“What?” asked Greg.

She sighed. “I’m still in high school, okay?”

“Oh, I see,” said Greg. “Well… that explains why you’re not in college.”

“Yeah, guess so,” said Mattie. She glanced around the coffee shop, convinced he’d find some excuse to leave. Get away from the stupid high school chick with a stupid crush on a guy who was out of her league.

“Hey… listen up.”

Great, here it came.

“How’d you like to… I dunno… go to a movie or something?”

Mattie’s shock was evident on her face and her attention snapped back to the college freshman. She looked at him in bewilderment. “I’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“Umm… do you wanna go to a movie or something?” asked Greg.

“You mean… like a date?”

“No!” said Greg. Mattie sighed.

“I’m sorry, I…”

“No, I mean… not unless you want it to be a date,” said Greg.

Mattie perked up. “Really?”

“Yeah… if it’s okay with you.”

“It’s fine with me, but I mean, I’m only sixteen,” said Mattie.

“Does that bother you?” asked Greg.

“I dunno, does it bother you?” asked Mattie.

“Not really.”

“Good, me neither.”

“So, what do you wanna see?” asked Greg.

“Don’t really care,” said Mattie.

Greg smiled. “Me neither.”

The Taylor Foundation

Robbie Baldwin fidgeted uncomfortably in the leather chair he sat in. To his left was Elvin Haliday, one of his closest friends and his teammate in the New Warriors.

“You okay?” asked Elvin.

“Just hate waiting like this,” said Robbie. “Where’s Thrash? He said two o’clock, right?”

“Maybe he’s got a meeting or something,” said Elvin.

“He should’ve been here by now,” said Robbie. “God, this place is boring.”

“Not much we can really do about that, I guess,” said Elvin. “What, do you expect him to have video games set up in his office?”

“Hey, if I ran a company, that’s what I’d do,” said Robbie. “Gotta do something to entertain people when you’re making them wait.”

The door to the office opened and Dwayne Taylor strode in, dressed in a white suit with a black, Mandarin-style collar shirt. His assistant followed him inside and Dwayne moved to sit behind the large desk, across from Robbie and Elvin. Dwayne looked up at his assistant, “I’ll handle this, leave us be.”

“Yes sir,” said the assistant, and he left the room, closing the doors behind him.

“Nice to see you too, Thrash,” said Robbie with a hint of sarcasm.

“Robbie, please stop calling me that,” said Dwayne. “Those days are over.”

“Force of habit, man.”

“So what’s this all about?” asked Elvin.

“I wanted to talk to the two of you about the Warriors,” said Dwayne. “First off, what happened with Machine Teen?”

“His consciousness was lost when he tried to take over the Deathlok prototype,” said Elvin. “SHIELD wouldn’t even let us take his body back, said it was their property.”

“I tried to get in touch with SHIELD and they wouldn’t tell me much, just kept repeating the words, ‘that’s classified’,” said Dwayne. “How about the rest of the team?”

“Working better together,” said Robbie. “I gotta hand it to Patriot, even though that Taskmaster thing was bullshit, he knows what he’s doing. He reminds me of you in the old days.”

“I know,” said Dwayne.

“Seems like we’re starting to trust each other a little more,” said Elvin. “I don’t think any of us have revealed any identities yet, but we’re getting there. Most of us are probably just waiting for Patriot to be the one to pull of his mask first.”

“Maybe that’s not the best idea,” said Dwayne.

“What do you mean?” asked Robbie.

“We should probably set an example for the others,” said Dwayne. “Reveal our identities to the team and hopefully the rest will follow our example.”

“You think we’re at that stage?” asked Elvin.

“We have to take risks at some point,” said Dwayne.

“Hey, I’m fine with it,” said Robbie. “I’ve never been really big on the secret identity thing anyway.”

“Elvin?” asked Dwayne.

“I dunno, but if you think it’s the right thing to do, then I guess that’s what we’ll do,” said Elvin. “Who knows, maybe it will help.”

The metal doors blocked Patriot’s path. He removed the red glove from his right hand and placed it on the sensor pad.

{Identity confirmed}

The doors slid open and Patriot stepped inside. Just past the doors was a massive laboratory with men and women in white lab coats going about their business. One of them came up to him.

“Welcome home, Patriot.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” said Patriot. He pulled his mask and left glove off and dropped them on a table. He unbuttoned the blue top he wore and removed it from his torso, also dropping it on the mask and gloves. The scientist led him over to a metal slab and Patriot leaned against it.

The scientist fastened the straps around Patriot’s wrists and ankles and attached a few sensors to the young man’s bare chest. He moved over to a control panel and activated it and the slab turned so Patriot was now looking up at a compartment that closed down around Patriot’s body. He closed his eyes as bright lights flashed, the sensors taking the readings.

From the control panel, the scientist watched the readings as they came up on the screen. Another man stepped up behind him.

“How does it look?” he asked.

“So far, so good,” said the scientist. “It looks like the serum is holding.”

“That means we’ve done it. We’ve been able to successfully replicate the Super Soldier Serum.”

“What about the New Warriors?” asked the scientist.

“It’s time for us to move into phase two of the project.”

The Crash Pad

“How’s Kath?” asked Eddie.

“Eh, good question,” said Johnny. He had his Ricochet mask pulled down, hanging loosely around his neck like a bandana. “She’s been kind of distant lately.”

“How do you mean?” asked Eddie.

“I dunno, she’s just not as talkative as she usually is and I know something’s up,” said Johnny. “Chicks man, they’re messed up.”

“As a ‘chick,’ I resent that.”

Johnny and Eddie spun around and found Joystick in the room.

“Don’t you ever knock?” asked Johnny.

“Not really, I prefer the element of surprise,” said Joystick. “So, girl trouble, Rico?”

“How long were you listening?” asked Eddie.

“Long enough,” said Joystick. “C’mon, I could probably help you out.”

“No thanks,” said Johnny.

“Suit yourself,” said Joystick. She walked over to the Warriors’ resident tech expert. “How’s it going, Eddie?”

“Can’t complain,” said Eddie. “How about you?”

“Surviving,” said Joystick.

“There a reason you’re here?” asked Johnny.

“Didn’t feel like studying, thought I’d see if anyone else was around,” said Joystick. “What do you say Rico? Up for a little sparring?”

“I don’t wanna embarrass you in front of Eddie,” said Johnny with a smile.

“You’d be the one embarrassed, kiddo,” said Joystick.

“That’ll be the da—”

Before Ricochet finished his sentence, he stopped himself. He pulled his mask up, covering his face and grabbed two of his throwing discs. “Eddie, get outta here.”

“What’s going on?” asked Eddie.

“I dunno, but my danger sense is buzzing,” said Ricochet.

Joystick generated an energy baton in each hand and moved beside Ricochet. “Looks like I picked a good time to swing by.”

“Yeah, guess so,” said Ricochet. “You ready?”

“Always,” said Joystick. The two heroes leapt up through the skylight of the Crash Pad. On the roof, they both looked around, but saw nothing.

“You sure about this?” asked Joystick.

Ricochet didn’t respond. Instead, he leapt at Joystick and knocked her out of the way of an energy blast that struck the spot she was standing on. The two looked up and saw five people dressed in armor that resembled the Guardsmen suits used by security at the Vault.

“Joystick, we’ve come to put you on trial for the crimes you’ve committed both as a member of the Great Game and the Masters of Evil,” said the Sentry.

“And just who are these guys?” asked Ricochet.

“The Jury,” said Joystick. “Former guards who’ve taken it upon themselves to pass judgment on any costumed criminals.”

“Met them before, I take it?” asked Ricochet.

“No, but I’ve heard enough stories about them to know they’re bad news,” said Joystick.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” said Bomblast.

“I’m for the hard way, myself,” said Ricochet.

“Your funeral, kid,” said Wysper. With a gesture of her hand, white bursts of light surrounded Ricochet. He felt dizzy and couldn’t get a sense of which way was up.

“Okay assholes, my turn,” said Joystick. She hurled one of her energy batons at Wysper in retaliation for Ricochet. She instantly generated another one in her hand and slammed them together in front of her just in time to block a blast from Bomblast’s plasma gun. She slammed them together again, and a photonic beam of energy shot forth from her batons.

Ramshot charged forward, his arms glowing brightly. He extended them and a battering pulse emitted from them, slamming into Joystick, almost knocking her off the edge of the Crash Pad. Firearm and the Sentry came closer and Firearm struck Joystick with his sonic lance. Joystick fell down further before succumbing to the repulsor blasts of the Sentry. He lowered himself to the building and picked up the unconscious Warrior.

NEXT: The trial of Joystick as “Judgment Day” concludes!

WAR ROOM

Things are starting to come to a head as we approach issue #12. After the conclusion of this two-part story-arc involving Joystick and her criminal past, we’re going to jump into “Patriot Games,” where the secret of Patriot, how he got his powers, what his motivations are for forming the Warriors, and, most imporantly, who he really is, will all be revealed.

As always, if you have any comments, reviews, letters, what have you, send them over to me.