November 4th, 2007
9:21 PM P.S.T.
Key Arena
Seattle, Washington

“Christ, is this guy EVER gonna shut up?”

Dr. Jackal grinned at the whispered words of Phantasm, who stood next to him, at his right, dressed in—for several days in a row, something that hadn’t happened for many years—his famous black cowled costume. As Colonel John Clayton, head of Canada’s BRAND, Jack’s best friend of (exactly) twenty years might…MIGHT…have felt obligated by duty and station to show a bit more respect. But in that globally-known suit he wore at the moment, and as Phantasm, he had no problem asking the question.

And only Phantasm would ask such a question about the President of the United States.

Ahead of them, out on the stage that was lit up like noonday by dozens of lights, the President stood at the podium, center stage, and spoke to the thousands of people in attendance there at Key Arena—and to millions upon millions more watching the live broadcast worldwide, on their televisions or via the web. The teleprompter in front of and below him scrolled the lengthy speech that, the heroes had been told, the President had largely written himself (quite a feat for a President in the 21st century). Behind him, a group of equally historic men stood together—all men who had served as Commander in Chief over the past two decades of American history—and he was careful to look back at each of them, in turn, as his speech touched on the era of their executive tenure. It was a symbolic way of showing that while it was his speech, he was speaking for all of them. To see such a gathering of leaders together was nearly unprecedented, and the weight of that was not lost on Jack. It was yet another factor that added to his nerves and made it hard for him to stand still and not fidget.

Journey to Hell? Scary. A moment like this? Scary-ER.

Standing to his left, with her arm around his, was his wife, Knightsabre, and she grinned at John’s words as well and tried not to laugh. Technically, it wasn’t her ACTUAL arm. Her body was dressed up in a hard-light hologram that showed her as she had been when she’d still had the powers that the world remembered her for—golden armor, purple cape (and hair), angelic, tall body and all. The slight, thin form of Sabrina Knight-Parker was underneath. Johnny Quest had made the proper adjustments to the projector unit that he’d first built for her for Vanguard’s wedding in 2002. He’d made sure to age her (simulated) Knightsabre form just enough, adding just the right amount of lines to her face to make it believable, but making sure to show that—like Sabrina herself—Knightsabre was still vibrant and beautiful, and taking middle age in graceful stride.

To her left, Mist—in her new costume that she’d started wearing when she formed her new team, Forge, two years before—glanced past the Parkers and over at Phantasm and shook her head with mild disapproval, but with a tiny smile, regardless.

Just like old times, Jack thought.

Behind them, the rest of the surviving heroes of Forte stood waiting with them, all grouped, loosely, as the event coordinators had wanted, in chronological order of their joining of Forte. The assembled group, totaling twenty-five, waited just backstage, and for their cue to step out together. They were lined up in rough rows of four and five. Behind John, Jack, Sabrina and Sydney were Vanguard, Cincoflex, Hammer and Anvil. Hammer, like Sabrina, wore an updated holoprojector, and the de-powered Forte hero (and current CFO of Armor Security in L.A.) stood tall and massive once more. As was the case with Sabrina, they’d all decided that, with as many enemies as they’d accumulated over the years, it was probably best to not let the world know that Hammer had lost his mojo. Considering all they’d given to the world—as evidenced by how the world was receiving them tonight, a testament that they’d made a whole lot more friends than enemies—Jack figured the world would forgive them a couple of holographic white lies.

Behind that foursome were Armature, Chill, Tripwire, Tomarssuk (in his bear form, of course) and Eclipse. Next came Secundus, Nightshift, Hologram, Lightsedge and Electro Man. Hologram, several times in the past week, had expressed his reservations about being with the team on such an occasion, as the Hologram that Forte’s Earth had known as one of the famed Seattle heroes had ended up being a light-construct doppelganger of the hero from an alternate Earth, a hero that the team had befriended over the years. But that was something the world at large did not know, and did not need to know, so the addition seemed necessary for purely practical reasons. But more importantly, as they had explained to him, he WAS a part of Forte. He had stood with them in many battles that had saved either their Earth or the universe (or multiverse) itself, so had more than earned his place in the line, and his right to accept the gratitude and love of the peoples of Seattle, and the (this) world, on this night. They had also, some time back, had an “official” ceremony at the base during one of his visits (visits that were much more common now than the early days, thanks to the big dimensional event that had allowed the creation of a stable portal between his world and theirs. Had that portal been there in 1994, someone might have noticed there were two Holograms walking around) and made him a Forte member in fact, not just spirit. More than that, he had long been considered a good friend, and part of their family. They would never have considered appearing on such an evening as this without him. Outside their view, at the moment, sitting with other heroes on the reserved floor seats, his other teammates from his other team (MAGIC), Wingboy and Whiplash, waited to cheer him on.

The final two rows in the Forte waiting line were made up of the members of the modern team. Seahawk, Tinker, Rainier and Max, the four who had founded the new team (quite by accident), were together, and Rainier put a surprisingly gentle, giant rocky hand on Tinker’s back, as he had noted her obvious anxiety. She looked up at her old friend with an embarrassed but grateful smile, and he silently smiled back down at her. Behind them, the last (thus far) additions to the Forte legend stood—Nightsable, Dyna Girl, Vortex and Moonspider. Moonspider leaned over and whispered something to Dyna Girl that almost made her laugh out loud, and she reached passed Vortex to slug him (very lightly, as even a normal punch from her would have put him through the wall) playfully on the shoulder to get him to knock it off. This movement caused her father, Electro Man, to look back over his shoulder at her with an amused grin. Dyna Girl pointed briskly at Moonspider as if to say, he started it!

The event they were at—the Forte20 Gala—was coming to its climax, and with it, an extraordinary week of celebration and remembrance. It had begun, for them, eight days ago, as they all gathered at their secret hero base—a building as much a part of the Forte legend as all of them—for a private anniversary dinner and party. It had been an emotional and wonderful night, filled with laughter, many tears, and for some, too many drinks. But beginning the following night, they had belonged to the world. “Forte20 Week”, as it had been dubbed by its organizers, was to be a seven-day celebration honoring the team that had, in so many ways, saved and changed the world. Sunday night had been the opening volley with a live webcast interview conducted by their friend, Import—both a heroine with the Paragons team in Cleveland and a famed and self-dubbed “web radio diva”—at the base itself. Another (much older) friend of the team, Johnny Quest, had provided all the means for the video event that somehow (thanks to Johnny) managed to not crash the world-wide web. They had allowed, for the first time, a video tour of the base for the anxious world to see, and had had, collectively, a fantastic time with both the interview and the interactive video questions from fans around the globe. It had been a good start to things, allowing them to stay at home and be relaxed. Beginning the following morning, relaxation was over.

There were events, big and small, all over Seattle, a city that was filled to capacity with visitors—fans and press alike—from the four corners of the world. It was the biggest thing to ever happen to the city (and for Seattle, that was saying a lot), and all the preparations had somehow come together in time. Businesses all over town were giddy with their frantic states of overload, and both love AND money were pouring into Seattle. Hotels and motels and hostels were booked so completely that many enterprising Seattleites were renting out rooms in their homes to grateful tourists…and making bank. There was a city-wide carnival atmosphere that everyone was caught up in, and this was a carnival with plenty of attractions.

Forte heroes were everywhere, rushing to meet tight schedules that had been made and then changed a dozen times before the week began (and plenty during the week as well). Global media were desperate for interviews, and the team was trying to accommodate them all. A room was set up at the Forte Museum for many of them, but while some teammates were answering questions there, others were at different locations all around town. There were autograph events, also, at different spots all over the city. There were charity events that the team had to be divided up to spread around to, to give speeches and meet even more fans. There were ceremonies, great and small (the small ones ended up being the best ones), where different groups wanted to present the team with their own awards and words of thanks. Chill and Eclipse had both been so overwhelmed at the “Girl Power” event that celebrated all the work they’d done during their national schools tour—with so many stories from girls now grown to women whose lives they’d changed—that they’d ended bawling, in Chill’s words, like Lucy and Ethyl. A Mist Corps reunion in a restaurant banquet room downtown had had a similar affect on Sydney. Anvil’s joke to a large and wildly enthusiastic group of union workers about keeping them flush with plenty of construction work over the years, after so many super-hero battles, had (not literally, for a change) brought the house down. The annual Forte-Con in Seattle, moved from summertime to the Forte20 week this year for obvious reasons, was naturally sold out and jammed to the walls at the Washington State Convention and Trade Center, prompting several visits from the Fire Marshall and many hours-long lines. Forte members did their best to show up there as often as possible between other obligations and make appearances, and donated lots of Forte memorabilia for various charity auctions held at the event. The big moment that attendees were sure to remember for the rest of their days was when, during a panel being put on by Stacy McKone of the Forte Museum, Nightsable managed to corral all twenty-five heroes and open a teleportal onto the stage, ushering them all in en masse, a last-minute surprise to everyone (Stacy included). The crowd of thousands had gone out of their minds, and the standing ovation had seemed to go on forever. Not able to stay for long, the Forte heroes had told the crowd (through chosen spokesperson of the moment, Vanguard) that they just wanted to drop in and say thank you to all the fans, the ones who had given Forte the strength to go on through all the hard times, and who continued to keep the Forte dream alive. It was a miracle none of the heroes had gone blind from all the camera flashes going off during those few minutes, but not a one of them seemed to mind. Those pictures and all the others from happenings around town were hitting the web almost as soon as they were taken, and helped the rest of the world feel like they, too, were there, just as it was happening.

The big media events had largely taken place during the evenings, with one major one each day of the F20 Week. After the Import interview on Sunday night, Monday had kept things going with all twenty-five of them at the Forte Museum for a live sit-down with Barbara Walters. The next night’s Larry King interview, live from the Space Needle, was a bit less chaotic as it only called for a handful of heroes, representing each era of the Forte team. Mist, Vanguard, Armature, Nightshift, Electro Man and Rainier had taken up the call, and had all done a very admirable job. Armature’s fascinating insight on Forte’s global image—as experienced from his vast world travels—was particularly welcome.

With all the more serious and emotional questions in the previous couple of nights, all the heroes had rejoiced in the nothing-but-fun Tonight Show Forte Halloween Special, broadcast live from McCaw Hall in Seattle Center. Those audience members lucky enough to get tickets and fill the venue (normally the home for the Seattle Opera, as well as the Pacific Northwest Ballet) were required to wear super-hero costumes for admittance (which led to a costume contest segment of the show, where six costumed folks pre-chosen by Leno’s people out of the crowd got their garb judged by Forte themselves. Interestingly, the winner ended up being a fellow who’d created the satirical costumed persona of “Woman-Man”). There were endless laughs and goofing around, a hysterical bit where audience members played sort of a “visual mad lib” game and provided bizarre light illusions for Hologram to create on stage, and a rousing, soulful musical performance when Dr. Jackal had taken the stage with Pearl Jam to do a version of Dobie Gray’s “Drift Away”.

The following night (Thursday) had brought ten early Forte heroes (Dr. Jackal, Phantasm, Mist, Knightsabre, Vanguard, Cincoflex, Hammer, Anvil, Armature and Chill) together at the McKinley Observatory where Forte had officially began twenty years before (a slightly different experience for three of them, who had, over the summer, traveled back in time to the same location to stop Octave from destroying Forte’s history, though the world at large did not, of course, know about this. It often amazed Jack how little the world at large actually knew, and he had to constantly fight back the guilt with the knowledge that the world was better off for it). This Dateline NBC live interview had focused on the origins and impact of the team, and how it had, in so many ways, changed history. Naturally, a portion of the interview focused on Phantashia, the only member of the founding four to not survive to see this anniversary, and the other fallen Forte heroes.

Friday night had been much more Hollywood, as all the Forte heroes, and an amazing assemblage of stars, had gathered at the Forte Museum’s IMAX theater for the world premiere of the second Forte HBO film, “Forte Forever”. Unlike the more ambitious Spielberg/Hanks 12-part mini-series (“Forte: For a Day or a Lifetime”) that told the Forte story with actors (and filmed interviews with the actual Forte heroes to open each episode with), this documentary took the perspective of non-Forte people—famous and ordinary—and explored how Forte had saved or changed their lives over the past twenty years. The brilliant film had brought nearly all the Forte heroes to tears, and was a perfect gift to them, and a reminder of all the good things they had done that they’d often never even realized.

Saturday had been the Forte20 Parade, put on by the city of Seattle, and the heroes had been driven at walking speed through downtown with countless thousands of citizens and visitors alike cheering them on. The spectacle had ended at a ceremony that unveiled the Forte 20th Anniversary statue, and included moving speeches from Seattle’s mayor, its police chief, its fire chief, and not one but four UNCLE Seattle dignitaries—Bill Reynolds, Gary Williams, Cathy Gregario and Edward Castillo. The big Forte acceptance speech at this event had been given by Mist, where she spoke on behalf of the team about all Seattle meant to them, and their love for its amazing and resilient citizens, whom she referred to as Forte’s heroes.

But this night, Sunday, was the big finale, and it lived up to expectations. The Forte20 Gala was broadcast live on pretty much every world television network and across the web (thanks, once more, to Questech), and took place before a filled-to-capacity arena, a crowd that mixed normal folks and household names. The floor seats were mostly reserved for special guests, and they were very special indeed. Heroes from all ages, and from four different Earths. World leaders. Friends of Forte from twenty years of service, ranging from UNCLE agents to businessmen to police officers to professors to private eyes.

The Forte team themselves, as the event had begun, were seated in the front rows (with cameras on them at all times) as Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg opened things with their introduction (and both served as hosts for the evening), leading into one of several video clips that summarized the team’s history. Speeches had begun, given by the likes of SHIELD Supreme Commander Nick Fury; his “boss”, the Secretary General of the United Nations; the Prime Minister of Canada, who did a special thanks from his nation for all Forte had done there; retired heroes like Superman, the Flash, and Captain America; representatives from all the major modern hero teams—Starman from the Paragons; Celerity from the Justice Squadron; Telestar (wife of Vanguard) from Angel Flight; Grav from Armor Security (while the rest of his team was occupied doing security for the event—though, as usual, The Voice was so busy fighting off female fans that he almost needed security himself, so Riptide ended up taking up much of the slack); the Spirit of ’76 of the Enforcers (who joked about changing his name to the Spirit of ’87 for the night in honor of the anniversary); Windstorm, representing to retired Protectors, a team that Forte’s Electro Man had started his career in; and all four members of Portland’s hero team, The Four Aces, all close friends to Forte for the whole of the history the two teams shared. There was, as expected, a moving video tribute to the Forte heroes lost along the way. There were musical tributes done by Beyonce and U2. The show was part celebration, part roast, all a massive outpouring of thanks and love.

And now, over three hours later, it was reaching its apex as the President gave his speech, and as he and his fellows prepared to present the heroes of Forte with the Medal of Freedom, and to declare November 4th as National Forte Day. The Forte team had been escorted to their waiting place for their big finale.

“Get that speech memorized?” Knightsabre asked her husband in a whisper. She could have just used the mental link they shared and asked the question directly into his mind, but they had a long-standing agreement to avoid doing that around their friends.

“I hope so,” he whispered back, part of him afraid that just her asking him that question would make the whole thing vanish from his mind.

“Because if you just read it from the prompter, you’ll end up looking shifty like THAT guy,” she said, nodding toward the Commander in Chief. Jack grinned and took her hand and squeezed it, artificial though it was.

“Keep it down, you two,” Mist whispered in their direction. “I expect such manners from the jackass on the end, but better from you.”

“I sense a ‘bite me’ coming on,” Phantasm muttered.

As the President spoke of sacrifice and courage, Jack looked at his friends to his left and right. He wished Phantashia was there with them. Sabrina knew she was symbolically taking the heroine’s place, being the first new Forte hero to join after the original foursome (and being the wife of one of the founders made her inclusion in the starting row obvious as well), and Jack knew she felt the importance and honor of that. His recent trip back to that fateful day made the memory of it so much clearer for him, and it made him feel both old and indescribably lucky at the same time.

“He looks older in person,” Anvil whispered behind them, looking at the President.

“Yes, well, so do you, rusty man,” Cincoflex whispered at him, and smiled widely at his comic look of offense, rubbing her hand on his back as she did.

“My hologram’s tingling and making my nose itch,” Hammer complained. “I can’t scratch it without turning the damn thing off.”

“THEN we’d see what old REALLY looks like,” Vanguard whispered, which brought restrained laughs from those all around. And a finger from Hammer (who was probably grinning behind the holographic mask that covered his face), which Cinco quickly slapped down, worried that someone might be watching or filming them.

The tone of the President’s remarks indicated that he was (finally) nearing a conclusion, and Jack took a deep breath. He turned around and looked back at all the famed heroes behind him.

“Everybody ready?” he quietly asked. He got smiles and nods from all those teammates and friends that looked back at him, with extra enthusiasm coming from his daughter, Nightsable, in the back.

He looked on them, from face to face, into the eyes of those whose masks didn’t make such a thing impossible. It had been a week of fond memories and stories and emotions, but they all suddenly hit him at once, here at the end. He looked at the faces of the best people he’d ever known, the best friends he’d ever find. He thought of how many faces were missing. Phantashia. Shrike. Synergy. Thresher. Twostep. Telesis. Moondancer. He thought of how much each would have enjoyed being there, and deserved to be there. But he couldn’t let that pain be his thought. He was grateful for those that had made the journey with him. So many of them, at one time or another, could have ended up among the lost. But somehow, there were all still there, and had made it.

His thoughts became thick with flashes of memory, random projections brought on by the people around him. Like the night he and John had to go out and fight a villain (whose name Jack could not even remember) drunk off their asses from a night of partying at the base…a villain that had come to make a name for himself, but who’d ended up walking away in disgust and disappointment, with the two sloshed heroes flat on their backs in a dumpster laughing like idiots. Or Sydney’s blunt but caring confrontation with him over his personal downward spiral in his early Jackal days, one that had had more impact than she’d known (though it took its time sinking in). Sitting by Sabrina’s hospital bed and reading to her after, as Knightsabre, she had been gravely injured in one of her early battles with the team—the day he realized he was falling in love with her. Being there for Robert at the christening of the five children of Vanguard and seeing that look on his face that told of a man who was finally able to let go of the war and allow himself some well-earned happiness. The stabbing memory of finding Miranda in her tub, with her wrists slit, and racing with her to Questar to save her life, knowing the integral part he’d played in her suicide attempt and wanting to die, too, if she hadn’t survived. Relishing in using the “JackHammer” maneuver he and Matt had cooked up during their time together fighting villains both dark and ridiculous. His dinner with Mark when he’d encouraged the not-yet-retired Anvil to trust Erin O’Day and pursue a relationship with her, reminding him that finding such happiness in their business was rare and worth the risk. Listening to Akim tell Jack’s wide-eyed little girls folk stories from Africa, a pair who never got tired of bedtime stories from their Uncle Armature. Staying with Kyra all those terrible days as she put her soul and her sanity back together after discovering that having the powers of Chill was not enough to stop her parents’ horrible murders. Traveling with his whole family (thanks to a teleportation from Samantha) to Austria at Gregor’s invitation to see Forte’s retired hero-turned-circus-star perform…only to end up teaming with Tripwire (and Nightsable) to stop a terrorist kidnapping of the nation’s president. Taking a week-long sabbatical into the Alaskan wilds, when his mid-life crisis had started kicking in, with Tommy, where the smartest polar bear he’d ever known helped remind him of what life—and perspective—were really all about. Sitting down with Megan when she’d finally started to accept her new life as Eclipse and consider officially joining Forte, and telling her how proud his friend Paul—Synergy—would be to have someone like her carrying on with his powers. Receiving, on his and Sabrina’s tenth wedding anniversary, a bonsai tree from Kyle with a handwritten note of timeless wisdom from the serene Secundus that Jack referred back to often when life started to seem too complicated. Breaking down in tears when attempting to apologize to Harry for all the tragedy his wife—while possessed and leading the secret double life as Professor Night—had brought into the life of Nightshift, and feeling the gratitude of her unconditional forgiveness. Experiencing Steven’s amazing, touching and hilarious light-illusion semi-accurate retrospective of Jack’s life at his fortieth birthday party, a gift that only Hologram could provide, and the best one he’d gotten. Standing side by side with Jeremy and battling to save Forte’s history, drawing on Lightsedge’s unwavering confidence and inner strength to keep fighting on when they knew they stood at the end of everything. Asking Wally, on a golf course, to take the job as curator of the Forte Museum, and telling him with complete sincerity that he could think of no man better suited than Electro Man to represent the Forte legend to the world. Duking it out with Jared in the oh-so-mature knock-down fist fight Jack had led his friend into after discovering that Seahawk had been secretly carrying on a romance with Samantha behind his back. Taking Lucy out for her first flight in the original team’s famed jet copter, the Silver Bullet, and seeing the heroine called Tinker giddy as a schoolgirl behind the stick (and doing things in the air that would have caused Vanguard a certain coronary). Spending hours talking with the tireless Davis about details of Forte history and civilizations the early team had encountered, as Rainier became the latter-day team’s resident and enthusiastic historian. Counseling the ever-self-doubting Bobby and trying to help him see the great hero that Max was becoming, a thing he could never seem to accept on his own. The feel of the warm tears on his face when Samantha had first told him she wanted to return with him to his world, and the iron grip of fear in his chest when, over a year later, she told him she was going to use her powers to become Nightsable and follow in the family legacy…a fear of losing her all over again that was still inside him just about every day. Seeing the teenaged Holly’s bravery and grace, even through her tears, as she spoke at her mother’s funeral, a girl who would grow into the heroine called Dyna Girl and go on to show the world that same bravery, day after day. Relishing in making Paul squirm during their big talk on the Parker family patio when Vortex had starting seeing Samantha and wanted to get things out in the open (maybe just to avoid what had happened to Seahawk) and get Jack’s blessing. Laying on a gurney in the UNCLE medical bay, barely able to lift his arm due to the deadly poison that the mystic antidote had just to begun to fight, and taking then-new hero Moonspider’s hand—having found out that James had been the one to get into Jack’s Questpad and find the clue that ultimately saved his life…which led to James finding out that Dr. Jackal was really newspaper editor Jack Parker—and squeaking out the weakly-smiling words “Welcome to the family”.

He thought, again, of those no longer with them. Of a shared, unexpected kiss between him and Phantashia on an emotional night during their first year of friendship (something he’d never spoken of to anyone, not even his wife, one of the few memories he did not make available to her through their link) and having to be restrained, years later, as Tasha made her choice and smiled back at them all before confronting Telezar and sacrificing her life to save a world that had embraced and loved the magical traveler. Of shared, off-color jokes with Frank—John’s brother—when he briefly became part of a bigger family, joining Forte as Dash, and years later of soaring through the smoky air at him—with him (again) having become the villain Octave—set on killing the twisted soul once and for all to save all that Jack loved, even if it cost him his own. Of Andy, John’s son, sent back from a possible future to be united by fate with Forte as Shrike, a man who had become one of the best friends Jack ever had, who took the stage with him and sang with the Rolling Stones on one unforgettable Seattle night just before the dark times descended on the team—and claimed Andy as one of their first victims. Of Paul, the hero Synergy, a friend he’d barely gotten to know, who became the first Forte hero to lose his life in battle, and a night of cocktails and laughs where they’d first bonded and, ironically, talked about what it meant to be a hero. Of Chad, the young hero called Thresher, barely having met the team when, in their darkest hour, he pledged to Jack, there in the base, to stand with them and put an end to Intercrime—a choice that had soon taken a champion from a world in such dire need of hearts like his. Of Nathaniel, who had lived with Jack and his family at the base during the dangerous post-invasion months in Seattle, and had made Jack and Sabrina’s twins laugh, and become a part of their family with his noble and unassuming nature—a hero called Twostep who had more darkness in his life than any of them had known, who finally found his peace and redemption from an assassin’s bullet on the Seattle courthouse steps at the end of his own trial. Of Jennifer, the bright and haunted young girl who had found safety and comfort with them for a time as Telesis, and who now, he hoped, lived in peace somewhere—forever hidden away with a new identity and a fresh start, free from those who hunted her—with her son, who was just a baby when Jack once played with him at the base so many of them had called home over the years. And of Chelsea, the once-angry and vengeful Moondancer, who had found her center and changed her spirit, and had come to Jack’s bedside as he recovered from his near-death, and apologized for the things that she’d done to all of them and to the team’s name. He had told her there was nothing to forgive, and reminded her of his own fine job at dragging the Forte name through the dirt over the years, and that he was happy for her, and that he was proud of her, and that he hoped that the love he saw growing between her and Rainier would bring her many years of happiness and new beginnings. That was less than two weeks before her death on the streets of downtown Seattle, a final stand—all alone—so brave that the thought of it could never pass without closing his throat in both pain and pride. Whatever mistakes she had made in her life, she had left it—passing on to her new path—as a hero.

He thought of the hard times, the battles fought, the lives torn apart, the sacrifices made. He thought of the good times, from the early days of the original four in their shoddy excuse for a base, to the victories large and simple, to the laughs (so often at Vanguard’s expense) to the quiet moments between the storms when they just enjoyed each other’s company. He thought of the miracles, like seeing his lost friend Andy (literally) born again and getting a second chance at life as he continued to grow into such a fine young man, or that a common (okay, not so common) thief like Nightshift could became one of the world’s great heroes, and a friend to those who weren’t sure they could even trust her at the start, or all the uncanny twists of fate that had somehow brought each of them into each other’s lives. Through dark times and wondrous, there had always been Forte. And there still was. Somehow, there still was.

The others looked back at him without words, some looking at him curiously, some immediately understanding his faraway gaze. Those were the ones who, thoughtfully, smiled. And reflected his unspoken sentiments back at him.

He spoke, suddenly. He had given a speech, like many of the others, at the private party, expressing his feelings for all of them as they toasted together. But he had felt that there was something left unsaid, something he’d been unable to verbalize. He still wasn’t sure that he could, but the words came out anyway.

“I’d do it all again,” he said, quietly, but just loud enough for all of them to hear. He paused and swallowed, not sure that he was expressing, properly, what he was feeling. He had difficulty getting the next words out, but they came. “If you were all there with me. I’d…do it all again.”

He wasn’t sure that he’d be understood, or had said it right, but the looks he got back told him that he’d managed. Everyone was silent, but they all seemed to share the same thought. Electro Man—Wally—nodded and smiled with moist eyes, probably the one of them who best understood. A tear dropped from Nightsable’s—Samantha’s—eye, and she caught it with her knuckle. Phantasm, Knightsabre and Mist had turned around, too, and looked at the others. While Jack and Sabrina were the only ones in the group with a mind link, it seemed to Carl, the stage manager who, nearby, holding his clipboard, watched all this in silent awe (a story he would, one day, tell his grandchildren), it seemed like all the heroes shared one, together. Chill grinned at Jack, and her eyes sparkled. Seahawk and Vortex exchanged a glance, and a smile.

Phantasm reached over and put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. Jack turned his head to him, and the two friends who had met twenty years before in the hallway of a university observatory didn’t have to speak the words. Their eyes said it all.

Mist reached over and put her hand on Knightsabre’s shoulder, and through the sensors built into the hologram, Sabrina was able to feel it, and she smiled back at the friend she’d known since before either of them had begun the chaotic romances that would bring them both to producing extraordinary children, ones now on the verge of becoming the next generation of the world’s defenders. Sabrina, then, placed her hand on Cincoflex’s shoulder, a gesture that spoke of a close friendship torn, it seemed, irredeemably apart, yet somehow coming back together with the passage of time. It was a gesture that brought tears to Miranda’s dark eyes.

Seeing this, Jack placed his hand on Vanguard’s—Robert’s—shoulder, and he didn’t have to see the face behind the mask to know that his friend—whose wedding Jack had been best man in—felt the same. Vanguard’s hand, after a pause, found Anvil’s metallic shoulder, and Anvil looked warmly at all of them before turning and putting his hand on Armature’s.

Soon, through the touching of shoulders or the joining of hands, Forte was connected, physically and spiritually. Lightsedge rubbed Tommy’s back as Tinker—Lucy—rubbed the back of his—Jeremy’s—hair. Cinco’s hand suddenly stretched all the way to the back, at the end of her elastic arm, and messed Max’s hair, bringing a subdued and warm laugh from the group and a grinning blush from Bobby. Tripwire and Eclipse held hands and traded fond, sentimental looks. Chill put her blue arm through Hammer’s and stood close to him as Dyna Girl put her arms around Tinker, while at the same time mouthing the words “I love you” to her father. Now dispensing Texas tears liberally, he mouthed “I love you, too, baby” back to her as he shook hands with Secundus. Seahawk and Hologram clasped hands. Nightshift leaned back against the bulk of Rainier and smiled up at him. Moonspider, seeing no way out of it, sighed and put a (manly) arm around his teammate Vortex’s neck and tugged on him. Nightsable put her arms around Seahawk’s chest, a thing that had come so easy to her five years before and now, finally, did again, in a different way, and put her chin on his shoulder.

“And now,” the President was saying, “without further delay, I present you with Seattle’s heroes. With America’s heroes. With the world’s heroes.

“Ladies and gentlemen? The heroes of Forte.”

The crowd in the arena erupted in thunderous cheers that shook the building, all rising to their feet as one, and pre-emptive flashbulbs began popping. The Forte friends looked ahead, to the stage, where the Presidents were beaming and watching them and applauding along with the rest of the crowd. And, symbolically, with the world.

They all smiled brightly and looked at each other, and then to Jack, whose back was to them, and they waited. After a moment, he turned back, and wore a smirk as cocky and carefree as the one he’d flashed so regularly twenty years ago, when their remarkable journey had first begun.

“Let’s do this thing,” he said.

The heroes of Forte stepped forward to meet their next adventure.

Together.

End.