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"Beat Em'!"
Sometime among the events of the very first Kinder Cosmic...
The director of the United States Space Force marches back and forth before a gathered group of several hardened space marines all standing at attention within a large training room as he addresses the group with a general Patton like speech.
USSF Director: Ladies and gentlemen...We are at the precipice of the dawn of a new age!
*The group murmurs amongst one another curiously.
USSF Director: Time and time again threats from opposing galaxies, dimensions, and outer worlds; some beyond the very realm of human comprehension have descended upon our little blue marble suspended in space and threatened our quality of life, our society, our safety, our sovereignty and our very existence!
*Several members of the group shudder and gasp as the director continues his sermon.
USSF Director: If the citizens of this United States, no...The very world itself are to maintain our status qu-
*The group diverts their attention behind the director towards the sound of a loud, laborious sigh.
*The director shoots a disapproving glare at the alien grey known as Alpha as he continues to speak.
USSF Director: As of late, the only force standing between the citizens of this planet and total annihilation has been...
The lady astronaut and appointed liaison to the greys; one Luna Valentina gently pushes the little grey alien known as Jorg towards the middle of the room as she whispers in his earholes.
Luna: ...Go ahead, Jorg!
*Dressed in a bright red silk dress and miniskirt with a purple bandanna tied tightly around the crown of his head; Jorg stares at the hem of his dress with either side clasped tightly within his hands as he swings his hips from side to side and hums happily as the dress flutters back and forth.
The USSF Director sighs apathetically as he continues to speak, pointing at the little grey now standing beside him.
USSF Director: W-What...
*The Director shields his mouth and whispers to Alpha and Luna as Jorg continues swaying unmoved and unbothered.
USSF Director: What th-....What is this?
*Luna laughs and smiles as she replies patiently.
Luna: The only way I could get him to cooperate is if I let him wear his dress!
*The Director stares at Jorg still humming and fluttering from side to side and then Alpha confusedly.
Alpha: He thinks it makes him stronger...
*Luna giggles as she follows Alpha’s words.
Luna: He...he doesn't understand how feminism works!
*The Director stares at the flamboyant grey and then Alpha once more.
*Alpha throws his hands up as he replies.
Alpha: Who the hell am I to tell him otherwise? As far as I know it probably does!
*The USSF Director sighs frustratedly as he quips.
USSF Director: Jesus fucking Christ...Can he fight wearing it?
*Alpha smirks mischievously as he speaks.
Alpha: ...Jorg? Jorg can fight in anything, anywhere, at anytime!
USSF Director: Fine...Well I guess we'll conti-
*Suddenly the Director is interrupted by a massive, muscled and imposing Sergeant who addresses the group obnoxiously.
Sergeant: Why is that little alien wearing a fuckin' miniskirt!?
Luna snaps defensively.
Luna: HE'S IN TOUCH WITH HIS FEMININE SIDE!
*A private nearby mutters knowingly.
Private: Well, I heard that lil' shit is completely unhinged!
*The group of hardened space marines murmur amongst one another as Luna plants her hands on her hips and speaks once more.
Luna: NO HE ISN’T! HE SAVED YOUR IGNORANT ASSES!
*The Sergeant points at the preoccupied grey as he speaks once again.
Sergeant: That scrawny, 80 lbs, ugly ass little critter? Saved what? Ru Paul's drag race?
*The private glares at the Sergeant standing beside him confusedly as he continues to speak.
Private: Where the hell have you been man!? You didn't hear about what happened in Tulsa?
*The Sergeant cuts a sidelong glance at the private as he continues to speak.
Sargeant: Stationed abroad... No phones, or internet, or TV, or electricity, or running water...not even a fuckin working toilet! So no...I don't know "what happened in Tulsa".
Private: ...Oh. Well I HEARD he leveled half a city fighting some interstellar Lovecraftian planet killer...
USSF Director: OFFICIALLY THAT WAS A LEVEL 4 EARTHQUAKE!
Private: SURE BOSS! whatever y'all say, it's not like it hasn't been cycling all over Tiktok for months...
USSF Director: RUSSIAN PROPAGANDA! A DIVERSIONARY TACTIC TO UNDERMINE UNITED ST-
*Alpha sighs again loudly.
*As the group continues to bicker incessantly the USSF Commander from "Kinder Cosmic: Paradise Lost" strolls into the training room and smiles with a large grin as he leans against a supply depots consignment widow and addresses it's quartermaster casually.
Commander: Has it started yet!?
QuarterMaster: ....Has what started yet?
*The Commander grins mischievously as he continues to speak.
Commander: Say...Are you a bettin' man?
Quarter Master: On what exactly?
Commander: Costello over there of course!
*The Quarter Master stares at the grey still preoccupied with his pretty dress and then the Commander once again.
Quarter Master: That sick lookin, effeminate little space midget against ALL OF THEM!?
*The Commander smiles knowingly.
Commander: You bet your ass!
*The QuarterMaster doubles a glance back and forth between the grey and the Commander as he speaks.
QuarterMaster: How drunk are you?
Commander: VERY!
QuarterMaster: How much do you wanna put down on him?
*The Commander reaches into his pocket then slams several stacks of money upon the window's table as he speaks.
Commander: My ENTIRE goddamned pension!
*The Quarter Master stares at the little grey smiling as he swings in his pretty red dress and then the hardened military veterans and finally, the grinning Commander once more.
Quarter Master: You're on!
*The USSF Director silences the gathered, bickering and murmuring group as he interjects.
USSF Director: QUIET!
*The group of military commandos quickly stand at attention as the USSF Director commences pacing and continues his addressment once again while Luna smiles knowingly and Alpha shakes his head from side to side...also knowingly.
USSF Director: THE POINT IS! That we're facing a potential threat that is completely out of human understanding, the very laws of physics itself and our current martial capabilities!
*The USSF Director points at the greys; Alpha’s arms folded as he stands like a solemn statue and Jorg still hyperfocused as he busily plays with his red dress.
USSF Director: Although they ARE friendl-
*Alpha’s face sours distastefully as he hisses underbreath.
Alpha: Pshhh...
*The Director darts a sharp glare at Alpha who returns it with a twisted, smug expression and then at Luna who shrugs her shoulders casually.
USSF Director: ....Although they ARE NOT THE ENEMY we can not let the future of humanity...
*The Director stares at Jorg who is still absolutely lost within his own world as he continues to speak.
USSF Director: ...Rest upon the strapless shoulder blades of one four and a half foot; morally and mentally compromised little...whatever in the hell this thing is.
*The Director points towards Jorg as he flutters and sways repeatedly.
*Luna retorts defensively as Alpha comments sarcastically.
Luna: HEY!
Alpha: Well...I mean, he's right. Man's still kinda a misguided idiot but when he's right he's right!
*The Director glares at Alpha once more as his subordinates murmur and contemplate his directive aloud amongst one another.
Private: We are so, so, so completely and utterly screwed...
*The Sergeant standing besides the private shrugs apathetically as he speaks.
Sergeant: I don't see what the big deal is...
*The director marches to and fro once again as he continues to speak.
USSF Director: That being said! The ONLY WAY to adjust our combat to this new enemy is simulated combat WITH THE ENEMY!
Private: I'M NOT FIGHTING THOSE THINGS!
*Alpha smiles slyly and quips sarcastically as The Director retorts with a commanding tone.
Alpha: ....Sissy!
USSF Director: Oh yes you will private! Unless of course you want... AN EXTRA WORK DETAIL!
Private: GOD-DAMNIT!
*The Director grins as he continues to speak.
USSF Director: Besides! You'll only be facing a single extraterrestrial opponent today, Alpha has adamantly refused to participate in this exercise...
*Alpha retorts sharply.
Alpha: I said, "You can go fuck yourself", that's what I said.
*Luna erupts with a riotous laughter as the USSF Director glares at Alpha in return.
*The Sergeant points towards Jorg still playing with his fluttering dress.
Sergeant: And lil' Miss Doubtfire over here? HE'S supposed to be our opponent!?
*Luna beams with pride as she retorts.
Luna: I wouldn't underestimate Jorg! He's wildly talented!
Sergeant: At what!? Martha Stewart style homesteading?
*The group snickers as Luna giggles and returns a mischievous grin and then quips once more.
Luna: THAT TOO!
*Alpha clarifies casually as the group murmurs and looks on at the little grey still lost amongst the surrounding atmosphere.
Alpha: Consent for Jorg is kind of a non-issue, he's barely aware of where he is half the time. When goaded he does have a certain instinctive enthusiasm for martial combat under the right conditions. I don't even know where he learned it, he just came back one day and knew it innately. Like a telekinetic amalgamation of something between Ong-Bak and Jet Li...
*The Private stares at the little grey in suspended disbelief.
Private: Under...what conditions?
*Alpha grins knowingly; as he responds.
Alpha: Basically...You've got to manage to piss him off.
Private: "Piss him off?"
*The Sergeant cracks his knuckles as he smiles belligerently.
Sergeant: Well this should be easy!
*Alpha shrugs unknowingly.
Alpha: Maybe...Sometimes it is and sometimes it isn't! To evoke this reaction from Jorg or to "Piss him off"; it is like this ingrained psychological trigger. It isn't so much guided as a form of premeditated anger as a kind of pro-active defense mechanism. He's not even really fully aware when he does it. I think it may be a kind of "Fight or Flight" reaction he just does. Except Jorg...well...Jorg pretty much always chooses to fight.
*The privates eyes widen curiously as he stares the little grey up and down before him.
Private: Is he...is he dangerous!?
*The USSF Commander laughs heartily as he slams his hand upon the provisional warehouse window and retorts excitedly.
USSF Commander: YOU CAN BET YOUR ASS HE IS!
*The QuarterMaster glares at the USSF Commander as he chimes in.
QuarterMaster: I wanna replace my bet!
*The USSF Commander replies snarkily.
USSF Commander: TOO LATE ASSHOLE!
*Alpha, Luna, The Director and the group of soldiers all divert their attention towards the Commander and QuarterMaster until Alpha continues speaking.
Alpha: Jorg!? Dangerous? I mean...IF YOU DESERVE IT then I dunno...
*Alpha shrugs apathetically.
Alpha: ...Maybe? I really doubt he'd actively kill anyone though.
*The private throws his hands into the air and addresses Alpha frustratedly as the group murmurs amongst themselves once more.
Private: THE FUCK YOU MEAN "MAYBE" AND YOU "DOUBT HE'LL KILL ANYONE"!?
*Alpha shrugs once more...
Alpha: It's Jorg...Jorg is Jorg! You'll see...
*The private stares at the two greys one after another then retorts underbreath as he turns to walk away.
Private: I'm so not fuckin doing this...
USSF Director: MORE WORK DETAIL!
Private: GODDAMNIT!
Sergeant: Well I think they're full of shit...
Private: THEY TORE APART AN ENTIRE MILITARY BASE "JUST BECAUSE".
Sergeant: Of Non-combatant "week-long warriors" I bet! Might as well be a buncha national guardsmen...I mean...JUST LOOK AT HIM!
*The Sergeant points towards Jorg still swaying giddily.
Sergeant: ...There's no way in hell that little queer fella could take a seasoned soldier!
*Luna retorts defensively.
Luna: JORG ISN’T GAY! HE'S JUST SENSITIVE AND HE'S VERY SPECIAL!
*Luna cuts her gaze towards Alpha seeking confirmation.
Luna: He isn't...is he?
*Alpha shrugs unknowingly and apathetically as the group murmurs amongst themselves once more.
*The Private suddenly turns then approaches a series of lockers and containment bins stowing riot gear, defensive equipment and padded suits much like one that would be used to disarm a bomb or train a K-9 attack dog as nearly all of his peers follow suit...
Private: I'm not fucking with this lil dude without my PPE!
*The Sergeant snorts obnoxiously in response as he watches.
Sergeant: I don't need that crap...Besides, it's hard to move or fight with all that bullshit on! Whatchu gonna do? Bumper car bang him to death with it?
*The Private shrugs undisturbed.
Private: ....Whatever!
The crowd gathers all around the little grey warily; some armed with things like MMA gloves, hand-wraps, Batons and extended martial defense metallic rods as they all approach the grey from all angles.
Suspicious and cautious at exactly what the little grey might do and exactly how he might respond.
That is all but one, the boisterous military Sergeant who readies himself and then throws the very first strike at the seemingly defenseless and unsuspecting Jorg.
Without ever even lifting his eyes from the hem of his dress, in a matter of moments warping the surrounding spectators very perception of time; Jorg shifts his head slightly towards the left as the Sergeant's fist narrowly misses the grey by a hair's length.
*The USSF Commander slams his hand upon the provisional warehouses window once more as he retorts giddily.
USSF Commander: HAH!
What happens next can best be described through the conveyance of a matter of collective very short-lived and somewhat difficulty perceived moments.
The next soldier and the next and the next and the next; all of them simultaneously rush towards the little grey slinging their fists and their weapons towards the inattentive and unbothered little grey.
Jorg bobs, weaves, and feints his big grey bandanna wrapped head not unlike a hyperactive, super-powered Muhammad Ali; as fist and all flies from every perceivable angle, not ever touching him...not even once, his attention still diverted towards his fluttering dress all the while.
Another military combatant rushes forewords and thrusts a kick towards the grey; to which he spins out of reach with seamless grace as yet another kick comes flying from it's opposing direction to which the grey quickly ducks then loops his body around from underneath...still playing with the hem of his pretty red dress still humming to himself gleefully as Luna erupts with laughter.
Sergeant: What...what the hell IS THIS!?
Luna: I TOLD YOU!
Private: He....He never even LOOKED at us...NOT ONCE!
*The Director stares at Luna and Alpha then questions them curiously.
USSF Director: Why isn't he defending himself?
Alpha: ...Probably because Jorg doesn't see any of you as a threat.
*The boisterous military Sergeant walks towards Jorg then plants a single finger upon his forehead then slowly pushes him backwards; to which Jorg sways back then forwards then rests in the exact same position of which he'd originally been.
Sergeant: What do you mean he doesn't see us as a threat?
*Alpha responds casually.
Alpha: I mean exactly what I said! Jorg only reacts when driven towards it from an outside stimulus; when he himself, someone he cares about, or perhaps even others are under certain conditions of diress such as a threat or pressure or the friction of oncoming conflict. It is very difficult to tell exactly when this trigger will set off from an outside perspective but FOR JORG these lines are ingrained within his very being. It's like a reflex, he doesn't even have to think about it.
Private: How is it he can move so quickly like that? I could barely even see him doing it!
Alpha: Part of it is because Jorg instinctively compounds his telekinesis with Kinetic energy. The other is because he's clairvoyant, prophetic even. This doesn't just apply to the precepts of time or it's passage through the universe itself but also to an outside stimulus. But just like almost all things concerning Jorg; he isn't fully aware of what he's doing and what he does it its all interdependent on outside stimulus and outside perception and interpretation. In short, Jorg is like a living mirror in everything he does and reasons for doing them. A reflection of one's self whether they even realize it or not. He could punch through a two inch steel wall or bulletproof plate glass window faster than you could blink if he wanted to...
*Alpha shrugs casually.
Alpha: ...Only problem is it takes alot for Jorg to actively feel inclined to do so. Well...sometimes. All that being said apparently he sees absolutely none of you as an inclination for him to act...and so...he doesn't. He doesn't see any of you as a threat!
*The Sergeant fumes angrily and frustratedly as he stares at the preoccupied little alien frustratedly and then speaks angrily.
Sergeant: WHADDYA MEAN "HE DOESN'T SEE ME AS A THREAT"!? I'M A GODDAMNED NAVY SEAL! I DID TWO TOURS IN AZKABAN!
*Alpha replies to the Sergeant flatly and unflinching.
Alpha: Exactly what I just said...Your limited human capabilities and physicality to Jorg is a non-issue. You're not big enough, strong enough, forceful enough or physically capable through your own recognizance of being a perceivable threat to him.
*The Sergeant stands from the opposing side of the playful grey in the little red dress then angrily unbuttons and unholsters his service weapon as he holds it in both hands, pointed towards the ground.
*The USSF Commander laughs a riotous laugh as he spectates from the warehouse window some distance away then pounds the desk upon it once more as he goads the Sergeant playfully.
USSF Commander: YOU GET EM HOSS!
*The Commander quickly turns towards it's QuarterMaster then whispers as he winks towards his glare.
USSF Commander: ....Fucking idjit!
*Luna’s eyes widen with worry as she begins to speak.
Luna: I WOULDN'T DO TH-
*Alpha calmly places a gentle hand upon Luna’s shoulder as he knowingly interjects solemnly yet very mischievously.
Alpha: Nah....Let em'.
The Sergeant steadies his firearm upon the grey methodically as all of his compatriots watch onwards nervously.
And what happens next, again...Can best be explained by a breakdown of a series of events that through our perception of time unfolded within a matter of moments.
...But to Jorg himself? Well, that's another matter entirely.
Just like one perceptive light switch suddenly being flicked on from deep, deep, deep within Jorg’s psyche. The little grey suddenly raises his head; his black, saucer shaped eyes widened with a perfectly aligned subconscious awareness. One of them twitching erratically above a maddened grin as above and all throughout this training room; the loud deafening roar of electric guitar reverberates one ear-splitting and most deafening melody.
Loudly cutting through the awkward silence not unlike a high-powered circular saw this melody is that of the song "Beat It" the cover of an infamous Michael Jackson tune preformed by the band "Fall Out Boy".
https://youtu.be/Qt54wA7Z2LY
And as this guitar melody drones and roars throughout the intercom and sirens of the facility all around; As Alpha smirks smugly and Luna laughs...and then gasps. What follows suit could be quite accurately articulated as a series of movements so perceivably fast, powerful, and deadly accurate that one could quite convincingly say that Jorg DID move faster than a human could blink.
He quickly utilizes his telekinetic energy with one hand to jerk the firearm out from within the Sergeant's grasp not unlike a vaulted football ripped from between a running back's fingers. And as this pistol flies and spins towards Jorg he launches himself into the air, quickly preforming a spinning back kick that smacks against the gun sending it ricocheting and flipping once more until it hurtles directly dead center of the Sergeant's face sending him spiraling and sprawled out upon the ground nearby while the gun itself deflects, is thrown against a nearby wall and then misfires.
Space Marine: SHIT...MY LEG!
And as the lyrics of the song echo and vibrates all throughout this training room, quaking its walls and cushioned floormats with every progressing spoken word; the frightened private quickly turns to sprint in the other direction, absolutely ANY direction away from Jorg.
But little did he know; it was far, far, far too late...
Jorg harnesses his telekinetic energy to rip the man's legs out from beneath him, as he does Jorg quickly sprints forward, leaps into the air again like a telekinetic grasshopper then dead drops his knee into the private's back.
As Jorg "ground and pounds" the back of the privates combat protective headgear repeatedly in rapid succession; not unlike quick repeating Wing-Chun punches into the back of the man's head, striking and bouncing his forehead off of the training floor's cushioned material all to the rhythm of this melody. The surrounding marines look around at one another, murmuring in a stunned confusion as the private cries for help.
Private: G-G-GET I-
*WHACK! *BANG! *POW! *WHOMP! *THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!
Private: GET IT OFFA ME!
*The USSF Director points at the private then addresses the fearful combatants sternly.
USSF Director: ...WELL!? HELP HIM!
*One of the remaining combatants turns to kick Jorg off of the private when the grey quickly stops then pivots as if in anticipation of said strike; catches the man's ankle then smiles with a malevolent grin before twisting it with a loud *CRACK!
*Luna squints her eyes closed and winces painfully as Alpha grins a grin very much reflective of Jorg’s and they both comment.
Luna: Oooooooh!
Alpha: Fuck em'...
Elsewhere at the provisional warehouse window the USSF Commander slams his hand down upon the table once more as he also comments; smiling at the QuarterMaster with a shit eating grin all the while.
USSF Commander: That looked like it HURT LIKE HELL! GET EM' HOSS!
*The QuarterMaster also comments, sneering distastefully.
QuarterMaster: I fuckin' hate you...
Elsewhere amongst the whirlwind of rapid, successful strikes and all to a melody; Jorg now stands his miniskirt fluttering in training room's AC cooled air along with the motion of his movements with the Marine's now broken ankle held between the palms of his hands; the man still wailing with pain.
In an amount of time accumulating to less than the passage of a few seconds; the grey spins and leg sweeps the other man's remaining limb, tossing him upwards into the air before kicking him in the abdomen with a telekinetically reinforced strike that sends the man hurtling into and bouncing off of the nearest wall.
As another approaching soldier moves in to strike Jorg the grey quickly hops a foot into the air once more; then quickly plants a deflective side kick in rapid, fluid succession into the center of the man's chest which sends him staggering back just a few paces.
*The soldier hardens himself as he pounds his chest then closes in on Jorg once more.
Space Marine: IS THAT ALL YOU GOT!?
And as this melody continues to pound with a thunderous roar all throughout the training room; Jorg smiles a sadistic smile.
While the man races forwards to preform a takedown upon the little grey, Jorg quickly and acrobatically dips his head and upper abdomen towards the ground. With a certain level of martial flexibility mirroring that of a Shaolin Monk the grey lifts the pad of his foot from behind towards where his head originally was, arching it upwards and from behind his backside with his torso now angled downwards, he then slams the bottom of his foot into the Marine's forehead; stunning him instantaneously.
Jorg quickly rights his equilibrium and with a fluid, unceasing movement uses that very same leg to plant a telekinetically charged front kick into the man's sternum; sending him flying backwards and crashing into yet another padded wall.
Space Marine: YOU CRAZY LITTLE SHIT!
A remaining marine shouts at Jorg and then races towards him from a flanked position sending his own angled "axe kick" towards the grey's abdomen.
And as this melody pounds and reverberates the ether all around from every perceivable direction; without so much as a moments hesitation, forethought, or consideration Jorg side steps then archs his own leg around the own man's "Axe Kick" locking it into place.
*The Marine's eyes meet the grey's; whose deep, darkened saucer shaped eyes are deadlocked onto his own. Shining with a glossy, detached madness as the grey's smile widens. And with their legs locked in place, Jorg intentionally restricts the man's movement; the Marine's remaining free leg trembles as he utters words of fear and astonishment.
Space Marine: Oh....SHI-
*Before the man can even get the words out the grey hops into the air with his remaining leg with the other still locked in place, then uses his free leg to dropkick the soldier dead center of his chest with another telekinetically reinforced strike before quickly releasing his leglock to send the man vaulting into another padded wall not unlike a human bullet.
And as this resounding melody finally tolls onwards towards it's completion; the little grey still stands in the middle of this training room. In the exact spot in which he'd originally began; surrounded by moaning, bloody, blackened and bruised human cadavers.
Who at this point are each and all very, very much alive; though perhaps their pride...not so much.
*Luna shakes her head from side to side as the USSF Director speaks.
USSF Director: Well...we're never doing that again!
*Alpha stares at the director and smiles with an air of apathy.
Alpha: I could have told you but you'd never have listened...
*The private spits a mouthful of blood onto the ground as he slowly gathers his strength to try to lift himself from it, next to the still unconscious Sergeant lying face down on the floormat beside him.
Private: We are so...so...so fucked.
*At the provisional warehouse window the QuarterMaster counts out the last of his debt and then slams it upon the table towards the USSF Commander's outstretched smile now grinning from ear to ear.
USSF Commander: It was nice doin' business with you!
QuarterMaster: Shut the hell up...

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