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Inside the royal chambers of T'Challa, king and champion of the African nation of Wakanda, wearer of the Black Panther's garb. Finely adorned, the room features an antique writing desk, gifted to T'Challa by the leaders of surrounding nations out of respect for his achievements in developing Wakanda. On the walls paintings look down upon the king, the faces of his predecessors sternly evaluating his successes and failures.
T'Challa looks up from his writing desk. Before him stands M'swa, looking more than a little pleased with herself. Not for the first occasion in her time as the King's Personal Aide he pauses almost imperceptibly to admire her form. Held in her exquisitely manicured hands is yet another assortment of official documents for her king's perusal.
M'SWA: I have completed the arrangements for President K'Tobe's visit, he arrives only an hour before your first public engagement together and will leave immediately following his final speech at the ANT summit.
T'CHALLA: (coldly) It seems our esteemed guest does not wish to spend his valuable time in the company of the citizens of Wakanda. Perhaps he would prefer if we held the summit every year in Kintanga, his native land.
Moving uneasily in his chair, T'Challa takes the papers from M'swa. He rifles through very briefly, turning to the last page to sign and stamp them with his royal decree.
T'CHALLA: I trust that everything is in order here...as always, M'swa. You seem much better suited to dealing with the bureaucracy needed to run our nation, maybe one day you will wear the mantle of the Black Panther.
With a wry smile M'swa replies.
M'SWA: Hmmm.......I will take that as an offer that I couldn't possibly refuse.
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A jungle clearing, many miles remote from any Wakandan dwelling. Around the clearing the jungle rustles and chatters with a life of its own. Emerging as if part of the dense growth itself a group of five Wakandan tribesmen make their way into the center of the open space. They are dressed in traditional hunting attire, a small zebra skin loincloth and little else, except their weapons strapped to their backs. Each hunter wields a spear tipped with a shiny metallic point. The tallest of the group also carries a large black satchel. Gathering together in a tight circle, three of the five look concerned as one of their number pulls a small gray palm sized device from a pouch slung around his waist. The two remaining, obviously boys on their first hunting expedition, peer curiously over the shoulders of the elder hunters and listen intently...
SFX: Boop-boop-beep-boop-beep-beep-boop.
The hunter holding the device presses several keys on the device's keypad in careful order.
YOUNG HUNTER 1 (to his friend): Stop shoving! I can't see!
YOUNG HUNTER 2: Shhhhh..... M'bangwa will never take us on the hunt again if you don't be quiet and let him make this call.
M'BANGWA (holding the phone to his ear): K'olo, Jamu, be quiet the both of you! I can't imagine that you've never seen a telephone befo....
M'BANGWA (into the receiver): Oh, hello. Give me the Security Force. Yes, I'll hold.
A displeased expression moves across M'bangwa's face. An expression from which the boys take much glee.
K'OLO (laughing): Ha! He's been put on hold...serves him right for being so rude.
M'bangwa's glare intensifies as he casts a look at his charges.
M'BANGWA: Hello, this is Chief M'bangwa from the village of Gollong near the eastern border. I have discovered something that you may be interested in, Officer. I was deep in the jungle with a party from my tribe.
The scene fades out. Fading back in again we seen the group creeping quietly and slowly through thick vines and undergrowth. At the point is M'bangwa, his spear poised for a throw, his eyes tightly focused on his prey, a large leopard sitting lazily in the treetops. Silently he gestures to a fellow hunter. In liquid motion the tall hunter moves to his chief's side, pulling a vial from his satchel, unstops it and anoints the spear tip with a gritty ochre powder. An acrid smell reaches M'bangwa's nose, and he recalls other "hunts" where the tranquilizing powder was used to trap injured animals so their wounds could be tended by the village's animal doctor.
With a swiftness unequaled by any other man in the village of Gollong, M'bangwa lets the spear fly. The dappled light filtering through the canopy of leaves glints eerily on the spear tip and all are mesmerized. Suddenly the spear finds its target with a thump, and the boys spring into action. Between them they hold a large net, and they quickly move into position beneath the tree where the stupefied leopard lolls. Unexpectedly Jamu loses his composure and shrieks excitedly. M'bangwa angered by the boy's outburst makes his way towards the pair, just as the leopard crashes through the jungle growth, falling into the taut net.
M'BANGWA: What sort of hunter do you expect to be if you screech and caterwaul like that?
JAMU (eyes downcast at his feet ashamed): The leopard did not frighten me....
Jamu points to a spot a few feet from where the trio stands. Lawei the tall veterinarian joins them and begins to attend to the slumbering beast. Crouching, over the injured animal, whispering gently in reassuring tones, he again delves into his satchel for potions and ministrations.
LAWEI (not looking up): K'olo was correct, the leopard's rear left leg has a deep, infected cut.
Waiting a few moments Lawei gets no response from M'bangwa, K'olo or Jamu. He turns to find all three transfixed. A man of science and medicine Lawei is rarely phased by what he sees in the fantastic world he lives in. But today is an exception.
On the forest floor, not far from where they stand, lays a humanoid form, metallic and shimmering, casting an electric glow. The damp jungle air is tainted by the stark ozone odor. Immobile the figure emits an almost impalpable hum, a vibration that flows and permeates through all the surroundings.
Scene fades to black.
| Scene: |
T'Challa strolls through the lush grounds of his palace, aloof from the business of his servants as they hurry to prepare for the king's evening repast. Like many facets of Wankandan life the palace grounds represents a bizarre juxtaposition of traditional values and ceremony, and highly advanced, almost alien, technology. Delicately woven mats are used to provide shelter for hydroponically grown plants and vegetables.
It is a rare moment that he has time to appreciate the natural beauty that surrounds him. Smelling the richly sweet blooms of tropical fruit, the king selects himself a ripe passionfruit, succulent and delectable. Thinking to himself T'Challa muses on the possibility of leading a normal life, well, normal in terms of the average Wakandan, spending time divided between scientific or industrial research and with a family that he has never had....
A Wakandan Security Force Officer abruptly rouses T'Challa from his daze.
T'CHALLA: Officer P'Nikko, what brings you to me with such urgency?
OFFICER P'NIKKO: Sire, we have been investigating an incident that may have ramifications upon the security of our nation.
The WSF Officer pauses, uncertain how to continue. It is the first time he has met the king and now realizes the great Black Panther has addressed him by name. Dumbfounded by the presence of the man who is hero, leader and inspiration for nation, P'Nikko stands in awe.
T'CHALLA: Please, Officer, continue. I wish to hear your report.
With these gentle words P'Nikko is at ease.
OFFICER P'NIKKO: Alerted by a tribal chief near the Kintanga border some WSF Science and Medical operatives were dispatched to collect what we thought was an injured man for treatment. What they returned with was not what the Force base medical team had prepped for. Now all the operatives that were sent out, as well as five from the chief's tribe have come down with severe radiation sickness.
Scene fades out.
| Scene: |
Meanwhile at the T'Challa International Airport two auspicious visitors are making their arrival. They emerge blinking into the sunlight from the luxury aircraft. The sun glares off the tarmac harshly, forcing a suavely dressed businessman to don a pair of stylish sunglasses. The businessman hefts a large, seemingly heavy case, but refuses to let the cabin crew to carry it to the terminal for him. Following the entrepreneur down the stairs is a small man, with skin so black it appears to be jet. To keep the sun from his bald pate the second man places a red fez on the crown of his head. He turns to address the businessman as they reach solid ground.
PRESIDENT K'TOBE: Well, Mr. Stark, I look forward to your keynote address at the summit, and the journey has been as pleasant as any can be, so I bid you farewell.
TONY STARK: As do I, K'Tobe. The African Nations Technology summit will prove beneficial to all parties involved.
Scene fades out.
There you have it, Marvelous MV1 fans, my first ever fanfic. As the new kid on the block I hope you guys don't pound me too hard.... Send all comments to:Jason Brice
And don't forget to be here for our next issue called "Wakanda Spawned A
Monster". All action issue, blood, guts and glory. Musings on the meaning
of being a hero, and the consequences of violence.
The Mystery from the Dark Jungle
Avengers Team-Up Action
More of the Sinister Bald Guy
Thrills, Spills and Belly-aches!!