Angel 1 Crashes, Uncle Mickey Blade and the
Rescue of Mela and
Embrace by the Goreans
..continued from the last issue..... Don't forget to move your mouse over pictures
for a description I returned to Moove from Bangkok after three
weeks recuperating from the unknown gas that
made me so very sick and searched for the
Protector of the House Perpetua, KuhlMan. Unfortunately, The Protector was on a mission
in an unknown location so I decided I would
head out on my own to find Mela and Dark
Embrace. Now there was a bad idea. I sat down with a hot cup of Chamomile tea
and went over the clues that I had gathered,
and slowly (blond slowly) put together a
theory on who, if anyone, had kidnaped Mela
and Embrace. I had determined, in my infinite
wisdom, that a Mongolian Crime Family, Kubla
Shar, working with the Russian Ambassador
to Cambodia, had Kidnaped Mela in an effort
to gain control of TorLa's interest in Pershing
Yachts. It was no secret that TorLa Marine had developed
a new hydrogen based
engine that would revolutionize
the Yachting Industry
and had chosen Pershing
Yachts as the company
to build the prototype.
It had military uses
also, which TorLa refused
to develop. Using the TorLa Crime Database from the top
secret offices of TorLa Marine in the Thorn
Building in Moove, I was able to piece together
three locations where the Kubla Shar would
possibly hold two hostages (Gyantse, Tibet
- Ulaan Baatar, Mongolia - and a small town
in Arkansas, United States called Hogeye).
I was glad and a bit worried that there was
no chance that Mela and Embrace were being
held in Moove, which would allow an easy
rescue but would acknowledge that organized
crime had infiltrated our beloved Moove. I made arrangements for Angel 1 to fly me
and a small TorLa
security force to Hogeye,
Arkansas only to
discover that the Kubla
Shar compound had
been evacuated - obviously
in a rushed and hurried
manner. All that
remained was a small
diary in Tibetan that
had been dropped
while the Kubla Shar rushed
out.
We took off from the Benton County Airport
bound for Mongolia.
It was a very long flight
so I began to look
through the diary which
made no sense to
me....until I saw the map.
Next to the map was
writing that was faintly
familiar. I pulled
out the note that had
been given to me on the Orient Express out of my backpack and held it next to the
writing in the diary. While I cannot read
Tibetan, it was obvious that the two writings
were identical. The map pointed to Lhasa,
Tibet just north of Gyantse. I then remembered
the words painted in blood on the small mans office in Yangon. Lhasa. It was no coincidence. I went to the cockpit and told the pilot
to head towards Tibet just as we were flying
over Baruun Urt on the eastern border of
Mongolia. As Angel 1 banked to the left,
red flashing lights and a siren went off,
and the pilot yelled at me, "Get back
to your seat Tory and buckle down, we have
incoming". WTF? Incoming? Did I miss
the start of the Fashion Wars and somehow
the Crystal Angel was now fair game? Did
we review a design unfavorably and were now
getting pay back from an angry designer?
Was I going die without make up on? OMGAWD!
I ran back to my seat and had just buckled
up when a HUGE boom rocked the jet and smoke
filled the cabin. I put the oxygen mask on
and held on for dear life as the jet nose-dived
and gained speed. The gushing wind was a sure sign that we
had breeched the cabin and the look of terror
on the faces of the men on the security force
was a sure sign we were going down....and
going down HARD. I could see in the cockpit as the pilot struggled
to gain control and the Eastern region of
Mongolia zoomed closer through the windshield.
It was soooo surreal, like watching a tv
show or an adventure movie. I began to see the details of the terrain,
bushes, rocks and
sheep. This was it.
We
would hit the ground
at 600 miles an hour,
leaving no trace.
This really sucks,
I thought
to myself and began
to pray. Just as I could almost see the look of horror
in the sheephearders eyes on the ground,
the pilot made one final attempt at jerking the controls
and we leveled out just inches above the
ground. The tail of Angel 1 crashed into the ground
splitting the jet in two and the front portion
rolled and exploded in a massive ball of
fire. The rear section containing the security
force and myself spun around, flipped two
or three times and came to rest against a
rock facing. We all struggled to get out
of the carnage of twisted steel and carried
out the injured. Once safe, we radioed for
help. That is when it hit me...MY FAVORITE
C@NDI BOOTS.... I ran back in and grabbed found favorite
boots and dashed out. A few feet from the
safety of the rock facing, I head a BOOM
and was thrown to the ground. The rear half
of Angel 1 had exploded, singing my gorgeous
blond hair and burning my jacket. I looked
down at the C@ndi boots and smiled a weak
smile. They were safe. I got up and looked out at the burning cockpit
that had landed a good distance from the
rear section that had just exploded and began
to cry for the pilot, not knowing that he
had ejected at the last minute and was safe
(with the exception of a broken leg and collarbone)
several miles away. I had escaped with just
some bumps and bruises. I knelt and gave
thanks. Within the hour, two TorLa Rescue Choppers
arrived and I was
so glad to see the
pilot
from Angel 1 on board.
We had not lost anyone
and that was the
most important thing,
although
Angel 1 was totally
destroyed. I arrived back in Moove disappointed but
determined, and decided to visit my Uncle
Mickey Blade for help.
Uncle Mickey runs the Playboy Club with Diva
Di and has contacts throughout Moove, ...more
contacts than any Fashion Diva Angel does
and I knew if he could, he would help me. I arrived at the Playboy Club and was met
by Uncle Mickey Blade who was wearing a wonderful
Victor Pink and Black Pin Strip with matching
fedora. He is always sooo fashionable. He
offered me a seat and I told him the whole
story of the kidnaping of Mela and Embrace
and the Shadow Walker, the one-eyed monk
and the jet crash. I could tell he was concerned and angry at
me for putting myself
in so much danger.
"Tory, he said,
there are people
in
Moove a helluva a
lot more qualified
than
you to handle this."
My gawd, lil angel,
you are a fashion
writer, not a commando",
he scolded me as
he shook his head.
Uncle Mickey picked up his phone and made
a short call, only
saying, "my
family
needs help, I am
sending her over".
He then turned to
me and said, "this
will be hard, you
are going to have
to visit
the City of Tor,
the Goreans".
I just
stared at him with
this blank, "are
you friggin nutz"
look. He then began to tell me that there is really
only one group strong
enough to do the job
we needed done, and
that was the residents
of the home stone
of Tor. "Your Uncle
Damion is one of
the leaders there, he will
make sure you are
safe and heard". I
cannot guarantee
they will help you, Tory,
but if they refuse
I don't think you will
ever get Mela and
Embrace back" he warned
me as he led me to
the door. "Go see
them now". I always get really nervous going to see
Goreans. Not because
they are scary or anything,
but they have a lot
of rules and rituals
within their culture
and I am always afraid
I will do something
that will be taken as
an insult or disrespect. I changed into a very simple black gown with
matching wings and
poofed over to Tor. Uncle
Damion immediately
gave me a hug welcoming
me and after the
traditional greeting of
Tal to all in the
room, I asked Paganwolf
if I may speak freely.
He agreed. I told Paganwolf and Uncle Damion the whole
story and why I had
come to them. They listened
quietly, only asking
a few questions here
and there about the
Kubla Shar. After a two
hour dissertation,
silence filled the Rec
Center of Tor courtyard.
The only one to speak was Paganwolf. "
Torrence", he said, "I will be
honest with you". "We are not mercenaries and frankly, we question
your open mindedness and past judgements
on our home stone, our culture and our residents".
"You are not known as a friend to the
Goreans". "But......your Uncle here vouches for
you and your character,
so while I cannot
offer any help today,
I will call an emergency
meeting of our home
stone Council to
discuss
the matter. "
I thanked him and the others in the room
and bid farewell. I arrived back at the Roaring
Fork Ranch exhausted and praying that my
dear Uncle could help sway the Council of
Tor and convince them to help me.
I had just changed into my flannel jammies
and was sitting by the fire in my bedroom
when I was contacted by Paganwolf. The message
simply said, "The Council has agreed
to help you, we will get Mela and Embrace
back for you. All spoils and any prisoners
captured during the rescue will belong to
the City of Tor to pay for the mission".
I went to sleep by the fire and felt a sense
of relief come over me. I prayed for my heroes.
I was kept informed of the rescue attempt
by satellite phone and Internet and within
two days, Paganwolf and Damion had arrived at Lhasa,
Tibet...and not quietly I might add. The
two rode in on horseback at a full gallop
and kicked up a ton of dust as the stopped
in front of the tribal leaders (mayor) office.
I do not know what occurred in the mayors
office but I do know that as the two heroes
exited the office, the mayor could be seen
riding as fast as he could from the rear
of the building. Although I was not there, I am told that
the mayor slumped
over his horse and
then
fell off. He was
dragged until he
vanished
off into the horizon.
Since there is no
magic
on Gor, all I can
guess is an arrow
from
one of the heroes
took down the mayor
as
he rode to warn the
Kubla Shar.
The two Goreans rode out of Lhasa to the
West, obviously using
whatever information
they were able to
get out of the mayor
to
the fullest extent. Details of the battle between the two heroes
and the Kubla Shar are few, and as is the
practice of the Goreans, no bragging of the
valiant struggle is spoken of. What we know
about the rescue comes from rare photos taken
by an anonymous individual with a small digital
camera. Permission has been granted by the
heroic city of Tor to publish these. As is the practice of the Crystal Angel,
we do not show the awful ravages of those
who have fallen in battle, nor do we offer
the gruesome details and blood shed all war
brings. Still, I needed Mela and Embrace
back and no mercy was shown to those that
had stolen our friends.
Details of the battle between the two heroes
and the Kubla Shar
are few, and as is
the
practice of the Goreans,
no bragging of the
valiant struggle
is spoken of. What
we know
about the rescue
comes
from rare photos
taken by an anonymous
individual
with a small digital
camera. Permission
has
been granted by the
heroic city of Tor
to
publish these. The arrival of the two heroes back to the
City of Tor, with
my dear Mela and dear Embrace
was a carnival. The
residents lined the streets
and filled the square
and clapped and hollered...TOR.......
TOR........ TOR.......
TOR....... TOR. They
were not chanting
for me, but out of pride
and admiration for
their city and its leaders.
It was an amazing
site to behold. As Paganwolf and Damion dismounted their
steeds among the
throng of admirers, I saw
Mela and Embrace
and ran to them throwing
my arms around them
both. They were exhausted
and thin, bruised
and it was clear they had
seen the battle.
But they were safe, and
that is all that
mattered at that moment.
I looked at the line of shackled and bound
"new slaves"
from the captured
Kubla Shar that filled
the square and a
horse
drawn cart weighted
down with precious
gems,
gold and silver.
I approached my two heroes and did something
I never do for anyone. I bowed slightly and
whispered, "thank you my friends".
I felt the hand of Paganwolf rest on my head
and he said softly, "no need to thank
us, child - as we are taught from the Vagabonds
of Gor , Honor is more beautiful than Diamonds".
Now, go and take care of your friends. We
will speak again. I hugged the both of them and then thanked
their women, Ariella, and Twisted Dragon
for their sacrifice as well. As is the practice
of the House of Perpetua, I gave each one
a White Orchid as a gift of friendship and
had a Weeping Willow planted in the city
square. I then took Mela and Embrace back
to the Roaring Fork Ranch for a much deserved
rest. I dreamt of my two heroes thundering across
the Tibetan flat lands on horses of gold
silver and bronze - spewing a cloud of dust
towards the full moon blanketing all in a
dark red hue. I dreamt of diamonds and of
the rusting hulk of Angel 1 on the Eastern
plains of Mongolia. I dreamt of all that
was, and I had visions of what has yet to
come. I slept like a baby for two days and awoke
with a new respect and understanding for
not just Goreans but for all cultures. I
knew that a new day had arrived in Moove
- a day when each would be judged on their
character and the light in the heart. No
longer would one hate another for being different.
"We are all going to be just fine",
I thought to myself as I rolled over and
hugged my pillow close, drifting off to the
place between sleep and awake.
I returned to Moove from Bangkok after three
weeks recuperating from the unknown gas that
made me so very sick and searched for the
Protector of the House Perpetua, KuhlMan.
speed.
made one final attempt at jerking the controls
and we leveled out just inches above the
ground. 
not mercenaries and frankly, we question
your open mindedness and past judgements
on our home stone, our culture and our residents".
"You are not known as a friend to the
Goreans".
Paganwolf and Damion had arrived at Lhasa,
Tibet...and not quietly I might add. The
two rode in on horseback at a full gallop
and kicked up a ton of dust as the stopped
in front of the tribal leaders (mayor) office.
I do not know what occurred in the mayors
office but I do know that as the two heroes
exited the office, the mayor could be seen
riding as fast as he could from the rear
of the building.
