Date: Sun, 18 Feb 2024 23:03:21 +0000 (UTC)
From: Joseph Klimczak <at3unit3@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Tales of Sol 77A

The Tales of Sol 77A
By Joe at3unit3@yahoo.com

This is a fictional story it is not intended to imply that any members of
the Backstreet Boys, Nsync, or 98 Degrees are gay, or any of the other
celebrities mentioned are homosexuals. If you are not old enough to read
these stories do yourself a favor and don't get caught. The same goes for
those people whose countries have these sites made illegal. And for
everyone else enjoy

Captain Planet and related characters were created by R.E Turner and
copyrighted by AOL Time Warner Company and Trademark by TBS Productions

Babylon 5 and all related characters and props were created by Michael
Straczynski and copyrighted by Warner Bros.

Star Trek and all related characters created by Gene Roddenberry.
Copyright Paramount

Transformers and all related characters, and props are trademarked by
Hasbro Inc. Copyright Rhino Home Videos and AOL Time Warner Entertainment
CO

He-Man, She-Ra, related characters, and props are trademarked by Filmation
1980s

Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, Angel, and all related characters created by
Joss Whedon.  Copyright 20th Century Fox.

Batman, and all related characters created by Bob Kane. Copyright DC Comics
and Warner Bros.

X-MEN and all related characters were created by Stan Lee. Copyright Marvel
Comics and 20th Century Fox.

To those who've been reading Tales of Sol. I want you to know that while
there is sex in this story. That is not is sole purpose and yes I do hope
the sex sense makes you all hard and gets you off.

Sol is an adaption from my childhood favorite show Captain Planet and the
Planeteers, The cartoon showed us that the world can be a better place if
we took a few moments to care for it.

Tales of Sol is meant to express hope.

It also shows how music can have an impact in our lives. While I don't know
if my favorite bands 98 Degrees, Backstreet Boys, or Nsync have ever read
this. They saw me through some of the hardest moments of my life and
offered in their own way hope. To them, I say thank you.

I dedicate the Tales of Sol to all of my brothers and sisters of the US
Armed Service past, present, and future.

I like to thank my friends whom I had the privilege of showing these
chapters with. They helped with editing and inspiration,

John Rivera, Albert-Russ Alan Rivera-Odum, Derbe.D. Hunte Yvette Ortiz
Samuel Diaz Jr for all their help in Making The Tales of Sol an enjoyable
story to write.

And I have a few other names starting with the beginner of this universe.

James is the author of Tales of a Real Dark Knight. I still hope to
reconnect with you dear friend and all the rest of this series.

Blake the author of Tales of a New Phoenix

Jeremi author of the Tales of Young Mutants

I am adding a few more remarks. I have entered into the 21st century of AI
editing, I have been using various AI programs to help with grammar checks,
clarity, and improvements to my story.

This story was edited with the help of GPT Workspace, Grammarly, Microsoft
Copilot, and Quillbot AI software.

AI Use Disclosure: I used GPT Workspace to generate some text for my story,
Grammarly to check my grammar and spelling, Microsoft Copilot to write some
code snippets, and Quillbot to paraphrase some sentences. I verified the
accuracy and originality of the AI-generated content and cited the sources
that I used for reference.

References:

GPT Workspace. (2024, January 9). Version 1.0. [AI tool]. GPT Workspace
Inc. https://gptworkspace.com/

Grammarly. (2024, January 9). Version 5.6. [AI tool]. Grammarly
Inc. https://www.grammarly.com/

Microsoft Copilot. (2024, January 9). Version 2.3. [AI tool]. Microsoft
Corporation. https://copilot.github.com/

Quillbot. (2024, January 9). Version 4.2. [AI tool]. Quillbot
Inc. https://quillbot.com/

The Tales of Sol 77A

Aftermath of Mauna Loa Wrath

With Mauna Loa's theatrics over, a palpable sense of relief allowed the
island to settle back into a routine. The Backstreet Boys gathered, their
eyes fixed on the new stretch of coastline formed amid the chaos.

As I crept up behind them, I took advantage of the opportunity for a
lighthearted remark. "You guys could use some catchier one-liners," I
remarked, startling them with my unexpected presence.

"Mike!" they exclaimed in unison, their voices filled with surprise and
relief.

Brian took my hand in his, looking for an explanation. "Where did you pop
out from?"

"Did you miss me?" I teased, flashing a playful smile.

"When we told you you were going to have a blast, we were not being
literal," Nick laughed."

AJ's observant remark broke through, "You weren't kidding about you and
hotels being a bad combination."

After surveying the group, I realized our predicament. "Does anyone have a
cellphone?" My gaze was drawn to the badge on my wrist, which had a limited
range. "Need to improve this thing, I don't think my combadge has the range
needed to contact the Lair," I grumbled.

They patted themselves down. "Damn, I think we left our phones at the
hotel!" Nick exclaimed

"And why do I get the feeling your personal helicopter isn't here with us?"
Kevin asked

"The Sea Dragon is still sidelined for repairs, and as for the Geocruiser
and Ecocopter, well, after our encounter with Count Mullack, they're both
undergoing extensive maintenance. Didn't anticipate we'd have any need for
them on this trip," I explained with a nonchalant shrug.

Kevin offered a supportive glance. "Nobody could have predicted this,
Mike. We came to Hawaii anticipating relaxation, not a duo of volcanoes
stealing the show with their own dramatic pyrotechnics. These Hawaiian
adventures turned out to be more... explosive than any of us could have
ever imagined."

In the face of our predicament, AJ's voice cut through the
uncertainty. "We've got to find a way to make contact with someone," he
asserted firmly.

The group's tension mounted as Howie pat his pockets in vain, hoping
against hope that his phone had somehow accompanied him, though he knew it
lay amidst the rubble of their abandoned hotel room. "If we don't have a
phone," he said with a note of resignation, "our options are pretty
limited."

"What about the studio?" I thought as I grasped at potential solutions. "I
thought we were all supposed to be practicing today?" There was a flicker
of hope at the possibility.

"They would have been anticipating us," Kevin thought, though his tone
revealed he was unsure following the turbulent events of the day. "But who
knows with Mauna Loa's encore?"

I turned to face Rob and asked, "How are your contacts? Anyone you could
give a call to?"

"Rob, how about you?" I asked

Rob chimed in, a glimmer of hope in his voice countered swiftly by
reality. "Good news--I found my phone," he started, holding up the device,
"But the bad news? It's only got about 15% battery left." The brittle hope
that had briefly surfaced sank almost immediately. He added with a shake of
his head, "And no, I don't have access to the studio; I was scheduled to
fly out later today."

"Let's give them a call; they could be our ticket out of this mess," Kevin
suggested with a sense of urgency.

AJ tried to grasp the extent of our resources, "Rob, you were staying at a
different hotel, right? Yours didn't turn into a disaster movie set like
ours did. What was the name of the place, where is it?"

Rob confirmed, "Yeah, I was at the Grand Naniloa Hotel."

Nick gave an appreciative whistle, "That's a solid choice."

From my recollections as Sol, soaring high above the destruction to lend
aid, I remembered its location. "It was far from the danger zone, should be
intact," I reasoned.

"We still have to make it there," acknowledged AJ, prompting a collective
pat-down. Howie was the only one who emerged with his wallet intact.

"Well, Howie, you're up. Let's try to catch a cab back to Rob's place," I
suggested, making the best of our current lack of options.

Unanimously, we set off. Navigating the chaos, we found an unaffected
stretch of road. Kevin, spotting a taxi, flagged it down with an
enthusiastic wave.

As the cab drew near, the driver rolled down his window, leaning out to
address us. "Can I help you guys?" he asked.

"Yes," Howie responded, stepping forward. "Could you take us to the Grand
Naniloa Hotel, please?"

The cab driver took a quick inventory of our group and said, "I can take a
few of you, but I'm afraid my cab won't fit everyone." He paused for a
moment, deep in thought, before he reached for his radio and called his
dispatch. After a brief exchange, help was on the way--additional cabs from
his company were nearby.

Soon enough, a small convoy of taxis pulled up. We divided ourselves among
the vehicles, and with a sense of collective relief, we began our journey
to the hotel. The roads bore the scars of the recent quake, making the
journey longer than expected. I, having taken the front seat in the lead
cab, offered navigation tips based on my aerial view from earlier, ensuring
we made it to the Grand Naniloa Hotel without further incident.

Upon arrival, Howie generously covered the fare for all the cabs, but when
it came time to secure our accommodations, his cash reserves fell short,
leaving us in a bit of a bind at the hotel front desk.

"Alright, just hold tight. I'll be back in a jiffy. Don't go anywhere," I
assured them, punctuating my promise with a crisp snap of my fingers,
before vanishing from sight to tackle the next issue at hand.

Nick watched my swift departure and couldn't help but remark, "He could
have at least offered us a ride."

AJ, ever the wit, retorted with his characteristic sarcasm, "Yeah, because
we have so many places to go right now, right?"

Arriving unexpectedly at the Lair, I managed to catch Jake by
surprise. "Mike, weren't you supposed to be in Hawaii?"

With a wry smile, I responded, "You know how Hawaii can be."

Jake looked at me quizzically. "My memories of Hawaii are a tad more fond
than yours, it seems."

"Let's just say this concert trip has been... unforgettable," I quipped,
looking over my shoulder as if the chaos was still nipping at my heels.

"C'mon, Mike, it can't have been all that terrible. Besides, I've been kept
in the loop about your daring sea rescues and the situation with Kilauea,"
Jake remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

I returned the smile, amusement tinged with fatigue. "Those were just the
opening acts. You might want to get the full story from Dave about the
latest encore we experienced," I advised, hinting at the deeper tale yet to
be told.

"I see the boys in the band have run into a bit of trouble, huh? Need to
sort out a new hotel for them and relay a status report to their company?"
Jake inferred, piecing the puzzle together.

His memory jogged, he added, "I did hear about Mauna Loa's eruption and
Sol's timely heroics."

"Absolutely, Pele really threw a temper tantrum, and her fiery displeasure
has left us--and Rob Thomas--without a roof over our heads. Now we're on
the lookout for a new hotel," I recounted, already strategizing the
recovery from our unexpectedly eventful Hawaiian adventure.

Jake gasped, "Rob was there too?"

"Yes he was supposed to fly out but those plans were abruptly changed, it
is however thanks to him we even have a hotel to go to," I explained

Turning my attention to our trusted AI, I requested, "BEATTI, could you do
me a favor? Let Tony know the Backstreet Boys are all okay. And while
you're at it, could you make sure Rob Thomas's people know he's safe too?"

"Already on it. I'll take care of the calls," BEATTI assured me with her
usual efficacy. "By the time you snap back to Hawaii, I'll have your
accommodations at the Grand Naniloa Hotel all sorted out."

Arriving back to find the group waiting outside the hotel, AJ couldn't help
but comment, "Took your sweet time, didn't you? What's the hold-up?"

Flashing a smile, I quipped, "Just had to get my hair done," fully aware of
their anticipation.

Nick, seizing the moment for a bit of rough fun, gave me a rugged
noogie. His laughter rang out, "You don't have enough hair to curl, man!"
The humor of the situation wasn't lost on anyone; shared laughter provided
a brief escape from the day's intense events.

I jostled playfully with Nick, attempting to free myself from his friendly
headlock, all of us united in laughter as I prepared to wrap up the day's
unexpected heroics.

 Once I was able to break free of Nick's joyful assault on my head I went
back into the hotel and made my way to the front desk. I asked, "Could you
check if there are rooms booked under Mike Pennock?" as I approached the
lovely lady standing at her computer.

The receptionist confirmed, "Yes, we do have reservations listed under your
name."

A wave of relief washed over me, and I replied with a heartfelt, "Thank
you."

"Your rooms have been taken care of by Dave Matthews," the receptionist
relayed, giving me a friendly smile as she handed over the keys.

The involuntary wince was instant. Of course, deep down, I was thankful,
but BEATTI's liberal approach to problem-solving--using the CEO of
Philadelphia Geothermal Power Plant's credit cards for our
accommodations--had me momentarily confounded.

It was a mental note that etched itself prominently in my thoughts: Rein in
the exuberance of my supercomputer. Avoid future unauthorized expense
allocations, even under duress. But this left me pondering the
logistics--what indeed is the disciplinary equivalent for an artificial
intelligence? A thought-provoking conundrum on the ethics and controls of
AI autonomy.

I expressed my gratitude and collected the key cards from the front desk,
distributing them to the group as we ascended in the elevator. With key
cards in hand, Brian, AJ, Nick, Kevin, Howie, and Rob Thomas each went to
their assigned rooms, the ordeal gradually settling into a tale for the
books.

Kevin immediately touched base with their label, which promptly smoothed
any complications; Howie's quick thinking in procuring transport didn't go
unnoticed--they saw to it he was swiftly reimbursed. The bookings were
tidied up too, with the boys' rooms charged to their record label, while my
accommodation remained under Dave's name. With the financial logistics
squared away, I needed to communicate with Dave himself--no surprises on
his statement.

Once in my room, I made the necessary call. Dave's humor came through
first, a light-hearted comment "That is coming out of your Christmas
bonus," but it wasn't long before his concern took precedence. "The main
thing is that you're all safe," he said soberly. "Those people were
fortunate to have you there." His words, though heavy, carried the weight
of sincere relief.

Dave's voice held a resonance of pride mixed with disappointment, outlining
the day's events. "With what you and Sol accomplished, you have effectively
shielded the people of Hilo. The collateral could have been catastrophic,
especially considering the glaring lack of preparedness post-eruption,
presumably on La'Tola's watch," he expressed, clear respect for my role
juxtaposed with his critique of the authorities' lax response.

"We've sent our complete data on Mauna Loa over to the USGS; it leaves no
room for doubt about the eruption's imminence," Dave continued, documenting
the proactive steps taken. "The Agency's already on it, assuring a thorough
investigation and a forthcoming official statement from D.C." Dave conveyed
the urgency and gravity of the bureaucratic moves, appreciative of the
fast-tracking of these processes.

Dave was efficient as ever, ensuring that the replacement debit and credit
cards were expedited to me. He promised they would be with me by morning,
paving the way for as smooth a transition as could be hoped for under the
circumstances.

Even as we spoke, Dave was on the line with the Grand Naniloa Hotel, making
arrangements that placed all interim expenses on his tab. His actions spoke
volumes of his generosity and commitment to resolving any complications
arising from the unforeseen upheaval. His assurance was a small but
significant comfort amid the ongoing uncertainty.

After everything was taken care of, I left my room to join the Backstreet
Boys who were taking the time to relax after such an exciting day. All of
them were sitting calmly down. When I arrived, Brian naturally asked me to
sit with him, and we started talking about everything.

"I am glad to report that everyone on our team is safe and sound," said
Kevin first. "When the arena was designated as an evacuation site, they
were all trapped inside. We were supposed to go there ourselves, but we
obviously couldn't," we all signed relievedly.

Rob provided an update, a relieved tone in his voice. "Once my phone had a
bit of juice, I got in touch with some friends in New York. We're spreading
the news about Guardian and Sol's heroics today," he shared, his gratitude
evident.

Howie chimed in with good news of his own, noting that Johnny assured him
he'd be completely reimbursed for the expenses he incurred getting everyone
to safety. The gesture was a small reprieve in the face of their chaotic
day.

AJ, settling into the comfort and tranquility of the new hotel, let out a
contented sigh. "It's so nice to finally be somewhere peaceful," he
said. His sentiment spoke for all of them, but it was the relief in his
voice that resonated most. "It's a huge relief to know we've got someone
looking out for us when everything goes sideways." The acknowledgment was a
nod to the silent protectors who had steered them away from danger's path.

In the refuge of their grounded retreat, the Backstreet Boys found their
collective will fortified by adversity. The ordeal morphed into a bonding
agent, fostering unity that transcended usual bounds. They were bound not
just by their shared history, but by the day's escape from nature's untamed
forces, shielded by the valiant Sol.

As AJ reached for the TV remote and flicked on the news, the seriousness of
their situation echoed back from the screen. Reporters dissected the
event's timeline while emergency updates crawled across the bottom. The
footage revealed Sol's confrontation with the fiery behemoth, a tale retold
from various angles, painting the spectacle in strokes of awe and
reverence.

The broadcast cut to a live press conference featuring Director La'Tola
addressing a sea of microphones. "Ladies and gentlemen, today Mauna Loa has
spoken," he began, a tone of contrition threading his words. "We've fallen
short in our duties, hesitated when we should have acted for fear of
inciting panic" Director La'Tola's address carried a tone of somber
acceptance. "A wise person once told me that warning someone about a
possible eruption saves more lives than waiting until the volcano has
already erupted." This admission was his way of acknowledging my attempt to
alert him about the impending disaster--a begrudging nod to the prescience
that had been ignored to the peril of many. But history and wisdom say it
clear: the earlier the warning, the more lives are spared."

Nick's scoff cut through the murmurs, his disgust laid bare. "Unbelievable!
A total of a crock of shit! It should not have taken Mike to make this bozo
see that, why it took a damn near disaster for him to admit the obvious."

Howie's voice chimed in, tinged with frustration. "Sometimes, it takes the
very earth shaking them to their core before they wake up to their duty,"
he concluded.

Together, they lamented the oversight and repercussions, coping through
shared dismay, grateful for their safety, and bonded by the day's shared
trials.

With a gravity that matched the weight of his earlier oversight, Director
La'Tola took responsibility for the missed opportunity to act
preemptively. "It is for this reason that I am announcing my resignation as
the Director of the USGS Volcanology Department. The burden of not
disseminating critical information when it was most needed falls on my
shoulders alone," he declared, before retreating from the podium, his exit
as somber as the statement that preceded it.

After Director La'Tola's departure, a USGS spokesperson stepped forward to
provide a comprehensive account of the events leading to Mauna Loa's
eruption. He meticulously detailed the chain of events without disclosing
the source of the vital data that informed their assessment--leaving out
the critical contributions made by Dave Matthews and the AI, BEATTI.

In his explanation, he acknowledged that a significant portion of the
miscommunication could be attributed to Steve La'Tola's lapse in relaying
the full extent of Mauna Loa's volcanic activity to the USGS. This omission
had contributed to the agency's delayed response and, by extension, the
broader failure to adequately alert and protect the public.

The media coverage was extensive, the reporters swiftly pivoting from the
live briefing to interview eyewitnesses and broadcast dramatic footage. Sol
featured prominently--the hero of the hour witnessed in action at Mauna
Loa, around the vibrant caldera of Mount Kilauea, and amidst the perilous
waters of his sea rescues.

They also devoted a segment to the daring rescue of the school. Cameras
captured the tense moments as a river of lava inched menacingly close to
the institution, threatening to consume it entirely. It was only through
Sol's timely intervention, airlifting the entire building to safety, that
the students and staff were spared from a calamitous fate. The nation
watched, captivated and grateful, as Sol's heroics unfolded.

Brian watched in silent pride seeing his lover come to everyone's aid time
and time again. "Mike, I know you had no desire to come to Hawaii, and I
know you have very good reasons to stay in Philadelphia,"

Brian said quietly. "I cannot speak for all of Hawaii, but I am damn
grateful that you came, and I have no doubt that God knew you would be
needed because you were here with us on our tour, and so many people were
saved." I simply kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm grateful too," I conceded. "You, Dave, even Jake--you all were right
to push me to come." The other members of the band and Rob joined in,
echoing Brian's sentiments, their gratitude for my presence unmistakable.

As the initial shock of the day's events began to settle and normalcy
peeked through the curtains of our collective experience, a different kind
of need made itself known. Starved from the day's exertions, hunger pangs
unanimously commanded our attention. With a shared, unspoken consensus, we
congregated in the hotel's restaurant to satiate the gnawing voids in our
stomachs.

Rob had joined us for a late repast following the day's tumult. The
volcanic eruption had left even the likes of his airline ticket
irrecoverable, and with the entirety of Hilo's air traffic suspended amidst
nature's upheaval, he had no choice but to adopt a new course of action. In
light of the circumstances, I extended an offer of companionship, which he
gratefully accepted.

At dinner, amid the clatter of cutlery and the low hum of conversation,
Brian's gentle touch traced down my thigh, stealing a moment of
connection. However, his expression shifted, betraying a thought unspoken,
prompting me to murmur with a small laugh, "Don't worry, that's not what I
had in mind."

The exchange was fleeting, but it was these human interactions that offered
comfort amidst the unpredictability that had befallen us.

Post-dinner, Brian's sly grin accompanied his playful suggestion, nudging
me playfully, "Go ahead, give it a try. I'll be right there with you. Plus,
you have to admit Rob's quite the sight." His words, light and teasing,
hung in the air, punctuating the uncertainties ahead.

As we awaited further communication from Stacy Wilkins about our tumultuous
situation, the group hatched plans for leisure -- a shopping excursion, a
laid-back day at the beach -- activities that would have been on the
itinerary regardless, though now they hung contingent on the dictates of
Johnny and the Jive management.

But considering the turmoil we'd just endured, exhaustion settled heavily
upon us. We unanimously decided that after our meal, we'd retreat to our
respective rooms for some well-earned rest, allowing the adventures of
tomorrow to wait.

The toll of channeling Mauna Loa's intensity lingered in my body, leaving
me as depleted as the landscape around the quiescent volcano. Rob
graciously decided to pair with Nick for the night, granting Brian and me
the intimacy of a shared space. Our companionship extended beyond the
bounds of day-saving heroics--it was a bond threaded through quieter
moments too.

Night settled in as we all retreated to our quarters, and within moments,
Brian and I were discarding our day-weary attire and sinking into the
inviting embrace of an exceptionally plush bed. The sheets enveloped us,
but more comforting still was the warmth from Brian's proximity. As I slid
closer, his arms became my sanctuary.

Enclosed in his embrace, his gentle snores a whisper of tranquility, I was
vividly reminded of the reasons behind my battles--why I stood against
nature's fury, whether as Guardian or Sol. It was here, in the quiet
darkness, with Brian's rhythmic breaths grazing my neck, that I found my
purpose reaffirmed. Ensuring his safety, ensuring our Backstreet family
rested undisturbed, was an embodiment of my dual identity's essence.

In that serene cocoon of love, I permitted the day's tension to
dissolve. Eyes closing, I allowed the cadence of Brian's heartbeat to guide
my thoughts towards the dreams that awaited us. What tomorrow had in store
mattered little, for tonight, we had our respite--we had each other.

To be continued

And thus concludes this chapter. Like all natural disaster healing takes
time, and it is easy to lose hope when faced with uncertainty. But life has
to adapt and go on.

Please remember to Donate to Nifty

Please tell me what you think at3unit3@yahoo.com

All comments are welcome

I also recommend the following stories it was because of them I got into
writing in the first place.

"Tales of a Real Dark Knight" by authorjames

"Marvel Knights" also by authorjames

 "Tales of the New Phoenix" by Blake

"Tales of a Superhero Band" by Leo

"Tales of a Young Mutant" by Jeremi

"Tales of a Thunder God" by Tony Justiss