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In the light of the fires now raging here and there in the blasted ruins of the second floor Steve could tell the regenerative monster was a tall man, built along the same thin, powerful lines as Steve, if a little thinner in the shoulders than Captain America. Still he was heavily muscled, wearing a dark black outfit marked with streaks of red at the elbows and hips that left his arms uncovered, although the outfit was now showing lots and lots of tears from the number of bullets that had hit the man.
His face was uncovered, and it was a mask of horror. Every segment of that face was covered in scars, so many scars that it almost looked as if the man didn't have a nose or even a mouth except for the fact that it was open and screaming. "AAAAAAAAA!"
Two more Marines went down to his fire, even as more fire riddled his body, including several railgun rounds. One of them caught him on the elbow, shattering the bone and tearing the arm away, dropping the forearm to the ground. But as Steve watched, the wound healed itself within seconds, and the man charged forward, still shrieking.
"Meet Dead Man Wade," the intercom said, one of them somehow still in one piece. "In terms of giving someone a regeneration factor, he is our greatest triumph. Greater than Wolverine and Sabertooth combined. Yet the process did, admittedly, break much of his sanity. Still, scientific progress cannot be made without breaking a few eggs, and the control function is perhaps our crowning achievement thus far."
"Check fire," Steve ordered with a grimace, charging forward to keep Wade from the marines. In turn, Wade dropped his rifle and pulled out twin daggers from behind him and began to cut at Steve with both of them at once, forcing Steve back. The man was fast! And highly trained, the knives flicking this way and that, his legs coming up in a series of knee blows and kicks, all of it mixed into a fluid, wild style.
Steve couldn't find many openings, and when he did, his punches and kicks didn't do much, barely phasing the man. Steve was able to hold him in place though, then twisted them around at one point, allowing the Marines behind him to start to fire again before Wade used a handhold and twisted them back into their beginning position, placing Steve between the shooters and Wade once more.
For a moment, the battle fell into a stalemate. Steve wasn't willing to let Wade past him and was skilled enough to hold him in place. But his own blows weren't doing anything to Wade, and Wade was faster and more dangerous than nearly anyone Steve had faced recently. Steve knew that Wade could kill him with those daggers, and only had to be lucky once, while Steve had to keep on holding him back with everything he had. Maybe I really should look into adding some kind of cutting edge to my shield? Something to think about if I survive this.
"Aim for the head! Aim for the head dammit! If that thing can regrow its own brain, we're going to be in deep shit!" Marcus shouted to his Marines, who had been joined by still more of their fellows from below.
"Yeah no shit, a real living dead man, a freakin' real-life zombie," a nearby Marine muttered.
Marcus might have shouted at him for the bad timing of that joke, if not for the fact that the man put the next few shots right into Dead Man Wade's head, Steve having just ducked to the side. The man stumbled, but despite that, as they watched, his brain and head began to heal itself.
Yet that brief moment allowed Steve to roll backwards, getting out of the way of the rest of the Marines who began to fire again into the dead creature's body making certain to target the chest and head, this time with three plasma rifles having been added to the mix, Marcus having made the mistake of assigning the fireteams with those weapons to the first strong point instead of splitting them up.
Under this hail of fire, Dead Man Wade finally fell like a puppet with its strings cut.
"Don't!" Steve shouted, as some of the Marines made to move forward, Marcus echoing him an instant later.
Their concerns were proved right a second later, as Dead Man Wade rolled on the ground, grabbing at two grenades on one of the fallen Marine's belts. He threw them down, even as he once again was struck by several dozen bullets including more than a few railgun rounds, which tore giant chunks out of his head and shoulders.
Yet the man didn't even seem to feel it, let alone be slowed by it. The instant a wound was caused, his body was already healing the damage. Steve had never seen the like, not even from Wolverine. As Concorde had boasted, Dead Man Wade's regeneration ability put Wolverine's to shame.
That was the last second for observation Steve had before the two grenades went off, filling the hallway with smoke. The goggle armed Marines were able to see through it, but not too deeply. But Dead Man Wade didn't really need to see, instead, he simply started to fire blindly towards them through the smoke and fog, while he retreated back down the hallway.
That was suspicious to Steve, whose shield had blocked most of the bullets coming towards them. "Wait here," he ordered Marcus. "I'm going forward. If I don't spring anything, come after me, but hold the range open as much as possible."
Steve reached the point where Dead Man Wade had been hiding before. Now disdaining the idea of clearing out the various areas small hallways and offices slowly, he moved quickly, tossing grenades of his own down into the house small hallways and into the rooms as he went, only for a larger series of explosion to occur ahead of him. These sounded odd though, not like grenades or bombs, but like det charges set into the building. A series of low-scale 'wumps' instead of 'boom'.
Outside the building, Ghigau and Sam had been staring at the building, hearing the explosions within, wanting to know what was going on, but unwilling to just charge straight in. Now they watched as a portion of the second story's wall came down, the wall crumbling downward.
Following on the heels of the explosion, a man leaped out, landing and beginning to fire with twin machine guns in his hands towards the surrounding Marines. Five of them went down quickly, while the others ducked into cover, and began to return fire. But that return fire didn't do anything to the figure, who began to fire off smoke grenades in every direction, blinding the Marines and causing many of them to check fire for lack of a target.
At the same time, from out of the wreckage of the second story, a tiny plane suddenly pushed himself out from underneath the rubble.
"Go after it, Falcon!" Ghigau shouted up to Sam, as the dagger in her hand changed to a bow, and she shot an arrow towards the berserker so quickly that even a marine with a rifle would have had trouble getting a shot off as fast. "We've got this!"
The arrow penetrated, blowing off the man's arm and dropping one of the guns he had been holding, but Ghigau watched in shock as the arm reformed instantly.
The horribly scarred man, his features now clear as the smoke began to billow away and the fires of the second story lit them, turned in her direction. He shrieked in fury and hate, racing towards her as he pulled a dagger from along his back with his regenerated hand. But instead of being surprised or put off, Ghigau bared her teeth in challenge inside her helmet as she raced forward on her skates.
The man was fast though, and just before they would have clashed head on, ducked to one side, lashing out with the dagger.
It took Ghigau in the shoulder, bouncing off her armor and she returned her own strike, Sigyn's Gift shifting into a dagger once more, the two of them exchanging blows. But Dani couldn't keep up with Wade's speed, and a kick took her in a the side, right where one armor joint met the other.
Ghigau gasped at the pain, but the kick didn't do as much damage as it would have if the man had been able to get his dagger into that point. She twisted, coming back in, the goddess' gift shifting into a spear as she thrust it forward, slamming into the man's chest and penetrating.
Yet Wade grabbed a spear with one hand and pulled, lashing out with the dagger in the other hand towards her eyes. Ghigau's visor cracked under the blow from the dagger's point, causing her to reel away, losing her grip on Sigyn's Gift. The spear in the man's chest instantly reverted into the simple bow that it had been when Ghigau had first been given it by the goddess whose soul her body housed.
But the man's attack on Ghigau faltered as Steve leaped out from the fire and fury of the second floor, crashing his shield into the man's head with bone-shattering force. He stumbled, and Steve ducked under the return blow, grabbing up a dagger that had fallen from the man's exploded arm earlier, and cutting upwards, removing the hand holding Wade's remaining dagger.
Ghigau instantly took advantage, Sigyn's Gift flying to her hand in a dagger form. She then darted forward, and away, having cut cleanly through the man's arm, just as Steve had.
The damage of losing both hands oddly, caused the man to have a moment of clarity as he stared down at the stumps as his hands began to reform. "What is it with you people trying to disarm me?"
"We didn't disarm you," Ghigau said darting back in from the side. "We un-handed you."
For some reason, that caused Wade start laughing, the sound even more horrifying than the earlier screaming, even as he attacked Captain America once again. Then Ghigau was there again, and this time, Sigyn's gift was in a sword form cutting from the side at his neck.
The man never even saw it coming before the sword cut cleanly through his neck, slicing all the way through in one quick stroke of its magically imbued blade.
Steve had seen this man come back from having half of its head and brains splattered across the walls and didn't falter. Instead, he stabbed forward with his own dagger, piercing the man's heart.
Kicking Wade's head away from his body, Ghigau waited, watching breathlessly.
But apparently, that at last was enough to put down the Dead Man Wade. After a second, Steve released the hold of the dagger which he'd just thrust through the man's chest, stepping back and allowing the corpse to fall.
"I want three guards on this thing at all times," he said, getting an affirmative from Marcus as he and the other marines with them on the second floor slowly started to make their way down the still burning wreckage towards the ground.
Looking around at the bodies that Wade had piled up in the last few moments of the fight, Ghigau nodded. "Right. And the next time that a politician decides on something for political reasons that is going to impact a fight like this, I'm going to personally tell them to stuff it. And you too if you back them up Cap."
"Duly noted and agreed," Steve acknowledged with a sigh of regret. Then he looked up towards the distant sound of yet another boom. "You think…"
"Already gone," Ghigau answered, racing out on her repulsor skates towards the noise.
The noise had been caused by the Falcon, of course.
All of the Air commandos had taken to the air except their heavy weapons man and had surrounded the plane as it tried to get away by hugging the top of the forest, but their fire didn't seem to be doing anything. The plane had some kind of ceramic armor, which absorbed plasma and could deflect bullets, something Sam made a note of.
But the plane soon started to leave them behind, accelerating slowly but surely.
Time for drastic measures, Sam thought. Reaching into his pouch with one hand, he raced upward towards the ascending plane, redlining his small thrusters. His other hand stretched out, the gauntlet shifting into two long talons. Desperately Falcon grasped onto one of the plane's wings before it could really jumpstart its engines. As it started to race away from his fellows, Sam pulled out a massive bunker-buster sticky bomb, slamming it down into the side of the plane, where it stuck.
Reaching into his pouch once more and pulling out the detonator, nearly caused the Falcon to lose his hold. But his gauntlet's shift into talon mode allowed him enough grip to get it done. Plunging the detonator into the side of the bunker buster, Sam let himself fall off, moving away from the plane, his wings flashing open as he flicked the command for the charge.
Whatever armor the plane had, it wasn't up to stopping the bunker buster. The bomb went off, tearing the wing and the plane's rear-end apart, sending the rest of it tumbling. Sam cursed as he lost his night vision, shouting out, "keep an eye on the ground, I repeat, keep an eye on the ground. Marines, I need a team to follow the debris, confirm that thing had someone inside it, and they are dead or in custody. Commandoes, back into the air, spread out and make certain the perimeter isn't breached. There is no way we want any of these fuckers to get away!"
"Found him," Ghigau reported a moment later. "He's er, very mangled, but judging from er, scars I can see on the half of his head that's still here I think this is the chief asshole, Director Concorde."
The cleanup for the battle went on for some time and involved waving off the local police who had been called to the disturbance. When they were given the presidential orders and saw Captain America though, they went away willingly enough. The bodies of the Marines were seen to, loaded onto the transport after it returned, landing in the only possible space, in this case, a nearby road. Marcus went with them, along with half the remaining Marines, as Carol, Wyatt and Piotr joined the team on the ground, just in case. Too little too late in Steve's mind, something he would have to live with going forward.
Sean and the remaining Marines went through the dead, while also burning the body of Dead Man Wade just in case. With its head set to one side, and its heart carved out and put in another fire. The Marines that Marcus had led on the second floor had seen Wade come back to life after killing their fellows several times and wanted to make certain he was dead. When the body was entirely burnt away, they would then scatter the ashes and bones into the nearby Lake Superior.
If Steve or the others thought this was overkill, they never said anything. The Marines had lost too many men in a battle they didn't need to for Steve to begrudge them anything.
Meanwhile the Custodes handled the scientific devices and any computers that were still intact enough to get anything from. Thankfully from the list that Pinoptes and Sage had discovered on the CIA mainframe the only one missing from their list of doctors was Robert Windsor.
Later, they discovered that even that man had been dealt with. Pinoptes linked an image of him to Mr. Sinister, and Mystique confirmed that Windsor was a name the man had used several times.
Only one of the computers in the basement was still intact enough to get anything from. The rest had been both cleared and destroyed. Ghigau took charge of it, handing it over to Douglas and the many eyes for analysis along with portions of the plane that Sam had downed.
All this Steve reported later that night to Emma while on the way back to Washington D.C.
"Don't beat yourself up over this Steve, it was the President's call, and it was his to make in the first place. And remember you'll be up on the stage with the President when he makes an announcement about your attack and about the new head of the CIA," Emma said into the air of High Note later that night.
"Yeah, well, I think if you want to root out immoral practices and unearth skeletons from your closet, Duggan's the man for the job, especially with Nick still under semi-house arrest. But what happened in Russa?" Steve asked.
"We were able to convince the Russians to concede on allowing the EDF to have a map of their tunnel systems, although not all of it. Still, that is fine. Things got strange when we started talking about the super-soldier issue. They thought we were lying about there being another super soldier program in Russia at first, but eventually the Russians okayed calling in Sputnik once I pointed out how nervous the Duma Representative Yigliovich was acting. It came out that he was majority shareholder of the bank where the government's money was being sent. From there, the truth came out quickly, without me needing to use my telepathy at all. Turns out that even the highest levels of government didn't know about the Winter Soldier program, and for good reason."
"Good reason?" Steve parroted. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"From what Sputnik and Sage discovered today, the project was torn out of books when the communist government fell, but the pay log for the entire program was somehow kept in place, funneling money directly from the new Russian government into the KGB, just as a large number of KGB agents were turning into an organized criminal empire," Emma replied, shaking her head slightly, then waving off MJ as she held up her fingernails, all of them gleaming in different colors. Mary Jane and Sage were both up here with her, a bottle of wine nearby along with a bag of munchies. After the meeting in Russia, the three of them had retreated to High Note for some girl time.
It somewhat surprised Emma now, but with the absence of Ororo and Jean (and Hela, although even now, Emma wasn't willing to admit how much she liked the Asgardian), Mary Jane and Sage had become her friends. Mary Jane was a very down to earth, very with-it woman in a way that Emma enjoyed. Talking with Sage was often times trying and often times delightful, but always interesting, and the two of them had become friends over a shared delight in word games and chess.
"Well yes, they would say that what they? Corrupt politicians and bureaucrats will say anything to get out of taking responsibility or keeping their secrets from coming to light. Heck even with all the evidence laid out in front of him the former head of the CIA still attempted to get out of admitting he knew the program had performed live experiments on soldiers and mutants they had captured."
Steve actually snickered then, something unusual for Captain America. "Right before he attempted to use some kind of subliminal message thing to activate his bodyguards. Which in turn, lasted right up until Paige, John, and Scott interfered." The fight at that point had been almost painfully anticlimactic, although Steve would still have paid to see the man's face when he realized who most of the guards in the room really were. It was obvious that while the head of the CIA, whose name Steve hadn't bothered to learn, had cut the checks, he hadn't been the sharpest knife in the drawer. More like a spoon really.
"Yes, but in this case, they actually meant it. The Winter Soldier program was supposed to be shut down, like so much else when the fall of the USSR happened, and none had even heard the name. But instead of eventually amalgamating into the central government as the other super soldier programs had done, the winter soldier program disappeared, while, like I said, the money trail remained. Sputnik has now been authorized to follow that lead up, and they've already begun to act on that and Representative Yigliovich's information."
Smiling faintly Emma shook her head. "The upside of all this is, I signed off on building the necessary arc reactors in the tunnels. With that, Russia will be to the point where they can build up the industrial capacity we want soon."
"I think that's excellent Emma. You've followed up on Harry's hopes, turning a past enemy into an ally. I think he and the others will be happy and proud of what you've been doing," Steve answered, knowing that, for all her icy exterior, Emma was deathly worried about their friends.
Remembering her brief, and very odd, out of body experience, and coming from a telepath that said quite a bit, moment with Harry, Jean, Hela, and the personifications of Death and the Phoenix Force, Emma sighed. "I hope so. I really, really hope so. But against a foe like Galactus, I just don't know if planning and magic will be enough."
OOOOOOO
While Emma was worrying about how the group who had left Sol was faring against Galactus, Harry and the others were recovering from the battle against the World Eater and his Herald. Ororo cuddled into Harry's right side as Jean did the same on his other on a wide, soft leather sofa. Nearby, Hela was laid out in a chair, her legs up on a table, a look of utter exhaustion on all their faces, but none more so than Harry and Ororo. When the adrenaline had worn off, the effort of the battle and healing had hit them both hard.
Nearly every member of the Custodes team on the Long Voyager had sustained injuries of one sort or another but, they had been ridiculously lucky to get away with no one actually dying. Indeed, Ororo had dealt with the worst off during the battle. Thundra owed her ability to move to the Weather Goddess, whereas Havoc and Banshee had both lost limbs, which Ororo's magic had been instrumental in regrowing. But the process had been slow and extremely exhausting for the weather goddess on top of how horribly the battle had drained her before that. The cold compress Harry had tied around her head and the tissue tinted with blood from her nose emphasized this on top of how boneless she lay there.
James had to be literally cut out of his borrowed juggernaut armor, which had been both slow and extremely painful for the Apache. But once that had been done, Harry had been able to use some Anti-burn cream to deal with most of his wounds. Amara, too, had been utterly exhausted to the point she nearly had a brain aneurism, but there was little that could be done for her other than rest.
Still, all of the wounded were now on the mend, and Harry smiled wanly as he nuzzled into Ororo's shoulder, breathing in her scent and simply taking pleasure in the fact that all of his friends and loved ones were alive after what had been easily their hardest battle. For all of our planning, preparation time, and the massive aid that using magic was against someone who had no knowledge of it, we barely pulled through.
But they had. Morg was dead, and Galactus had promised to leave planets that had sentient life on them alone. And the second we get back to Earth, I'm going to start researching the Titan change or whatever it is called, Harry thought. And he wasn't thinking about the large and all-too fragile Imperial Guardsmen of the same codename. With the runes the Phoenix and Death showed me, I have a strong starting point, I think.
"How is Nightside doing?" He asked, looking away reluctantly from Ororo's neck for a moment, as he turned to look to his other side and the equally beautiful redhead laying there.
"Nightside is well enough and happy to be away from the Emperor. I'm watching to make certain that she doesn't get homesick or have any second thoughts, but I don't think she will." Jean replied. Then she looked at Harry quizzically. "What I want to know is, why is Hedwig so interested in her?"
"You'll have to ask my dear familiar that yourself. I'm uncertain on that matter as well."
"You know I'm awake and can hear you talking about me, right?" a tart female voice from another sofa nearby. A second later, Nightside shifted up so she wasn't laying down any longer, simply leaning against the side of the sofa.
Unlike many of the others who lay sprawled out likewise in the communal room around them, Nightside hadn't been all that badly injured, but she had taken a hard knock to one of her shoulders and another on her knee that she hadn't even noticed until the adrenaline wore off. When that had happened, her leg and back had basically seized up like someone clenching a fist. Despite that, Nightside had been almost guilty about receiving medical attention after the battle, given the wounds the others had sustained and had waved off any help beyond painkillers.
Now she looked at Harry, keeping her voice low to avoid bothering any of the others, many of whom were sleeping or just laid out, too tired to do anything but too keyed up to sleep. Or, in the case of Banshee and Alex, dealing with the sensation of phantom itches on their regrown limbs. "As to your animal companion's interest in me, I don't…"
Hedwig was suddenly there, popping into existence above them all, flying down to land on the back of the sofa between Harry and Ororo. The owl butted the back of their heads, nipping at their ears and hair in affectionate worry for a moment.
Harry stroked her plumage for a time as Ororo smiled at her. "Well, Hedwig? You haven't explained yet why you have been so interested in Nightside, and she doesn't seem to have a clue."
The snowy owl looked over at the girl, and Harry got the impression that she was indeed very interested in the young alien woman. When she turned back to lock eyes with him, Hedwig gave Harry the impression that it had something to do with how Hedwig could travel. Harry had once called it Going Between, having gotten the name from a fantasy novel series Hermione had introduced him to. And it looked as if Hedwig thought that maybe the girl had access to the same kind of energy, the Dark Force, as Nightside had called it.
He relayed this to Nightside, and the woman looked shocked at the idea. "I've never heard of any of my people being able to teleport like that!"
Flying forward, Hedwig alighted onto Nightside's shoulder. And somehow, the alien woman knew what the snowy owl wanted. She closed her eyes for a brief second and concentrated, reaching for the Dark Force. Then, before she could do anything with that energy, Hedwig acted, and they were gone, teleporting to another room on the ship. Reed and Ben, the only humans not sprawled out in the main room, had barely a second to gape at bird and woman before they popped back, with Nightside bouncing as she hit the sofa. "I… okay… that was cool, I, I think I felt something there… it's possible she, er, Hedwig that is, is right…" Nightside stammered.
"Excellent. Do you think you could learn from one another then, Hedwig? Is that what you're after?" Harry asked, still speaking softly, although most of the other Custodes and their allies were now watching this with as much interest as they could do anything right now.
Hedwig bobbed her head up and down firmly, and Nightside smiled. "That is kind of awesome, frankly. And heck yes, I agree to that."
"I'm glad for both of you," Harry replied. Then he shifted gears, looking at Nightside almost commandingly for a moment. "However, since you are actually awake, I don't have to rely on Jean's empathy for my answers about you. Do you have any regrets about joining us?"
Nightside shook her head firmly. "No, I don't. Like I told Jean when she first approached me, even my own family wanted me to basically sell myself out to the Emperor. They thought it was a high honor. And I was never all that close with them anyway given how I started training for the Imperial Guard when I was ten." She then cocked her head to one side, gesturing to her face and the alien features there, her blue skin color, and the markings under her eyes. "My question is, will I be able to well fit in with you hu…"
She cut off as James, Alex, and many of the others laughed. "Nightside, even if you choose not to join the Custodes Mundi, you'll fit in quite well with the rest of our companions back on Earth, and even in public, you won't get that many looks. Most people would simply assume you are a mutant, and acceptance of mutants is on the rise at home thanks entirely to Harry," Jean answered.
Perhaps in another lifetime, Harry might have demurred or said that he had simply built on the starting point that Xavier had created. But Hela had long since drilled into him that false humility wasn't exactly attractive, and he didn't argue the point now.
Instead, he made a joke of it. "Yep, you might only be moving from working for one kind of military organization to another, but I will wager that I pay a lot better than the Imperial Guard, and I will not be rattling your doorknob at night. I already have three lovers, with another waiting in the wings because she believes that courtship should turn into some method of slow, debilitating torture via rising sexual and romantic tension. So I am not looking for another."
While Hela let out a weak but decidedly throaty chuckle at that, Nightside snorted. "Bah, paying me at all would make you better than the Emperor. We're given an unlimited amount of credit to use on our off-hours. If you're an Imperial Guard, everything is free. But you're certainly not given any actual money. And don't get me started on our retirement package."
"You have a retirement package?" Jean asked quizzically.
"No, we don't, hence why I said not to ask me about it," Nightside replied dryly.
Everyone there laughed at that, even the slowly rousing Ororo. But their laughter cut off when a call from the bridge came in at that point, Reed's voice calling out from a few of the nearby speakers. "Ahem, I've always wanted to say this. Captain to the bridge, captain to the bridge. We have an incoming communication from Deathbird."
About ten minutes later, Harry looked at Hela and Jean, then over at Reed as the request from Deathbird to join her on her ship echoed around the bridge. "So, what do we think?"
"Given how we know these Shi'ar act toward their 'lesser's' there is certainly more going on here than simply wanting to meet us in person," Hela replied tartly.
Thundra, who had also followed them to the bridge to join Ben, nodded firm agreement. "Agreed. Although, recall that this is Deathbird. She is… possibly ambitious for her own sake."
"If you're going to ask me to try to figure out Deathbird's intentions, don't. Remember, Deathbird also has some technological defense against telepathy," Jean reminded them.
Snapping his fingers, Harry turned to Reed. "You mentioned at one point that you want to see if you could build something that would cancel out that kind of thing. Did you have time to work on that project?"
"In my copious amounts of spare time, yes," Reed nodded and gestured with one long finger towards the back of the bridge. "Indeed, I even tested the device. Although I will warn you, it is very short-ranged, barely two yards."
'In that case, I think it's time to act a bit weaker than we are by just a bit," Harry thought aloud. "While the Shi'ar have seen Ororo's ability to heal the wounded, they don't know how strong it is or how powerful our telepath is," He said, winking at Jean. "So let's keep it that way. If she is planning a surprise, she will plan for what she can see, instead of the reality. Hela, you're with me, we'll go over just the two of us. Ben, tell Deathbird to expect us over there in an hour, and Reed, I'll need that device. Let's see what we can discover about Deathbird, and maybe the Emperor's intentions too now that Galactus is dealt with."
Harry would normally have brought both Jean and Ororo to a meeting like what he expected this one to become, but he wanted Jean, and her various abilities, to be hidden away for now. And Ororo was in no shape for it. A Pepper-up Potion might get her well enough to come with us, but the backlash later would be even worse, and I refuse to do that to her without a much better reason.
Leaving the bridge, Harry and Reed took a brief stopover at Reed's room, where Harry picked up the device Reed had made. It was in the form of a small bracelet that, according to Reed, emitted an electromagnetic field that would push down or permanently disable the Shi'ar's technological defense against telepathy.
"Very good, Reed," Harry murmured, looking over to the doorway where Hela in Ororo stood. "Thank you. With this, Jean should be able to figure out Deathbird's intentions and maybe anything else she and D'ken discussed after we left the palace. With that information we will at least be able to make an informed decision on what to do next."
Nodding, Reed bid him good luck and waited until Harry was almost out of the door before he said anything, his back to the younger man, stiff and somewhat uncomfortable. "Harry, realize whatever you do, I will back you. The Shi'ar… I cannot condone or understand what they have done to rise to prominence as they have. In my mind, they represent a clear danger to humanity, but what to do about it… I leave it up to you."
Understanding what Reed meant beyond his actual words, Harry nodded slightly, though Reed could not see it before replying verbally, thanking Reed for the support but understanding the underlying message. Whatever was going to happen when they returned to the Shi'ar capital, it would be Harry's choice. That was the burden of command.
Harry and Hela took the shuttle over to the Shi'ar ship. As they did, Jean, back on the bridge, pointed out something their scanners were telling them about the Shi'ar bombardment ship Deathbird flew her flag from. "She was part of the battle for certain. That ship is badly damaged."
Hela chuckled harshly. "I never said I doubted Deathbird's basic courage, firebird. I simply mentioned her ambition."
"Still, it is something to be aware of. Deathbird is the one that has the most knowledge of the military, and I'd wager that means she probably has partisans in it," Harry mused.
From where she was sitting next to Jean, Thundra added something herself now. "And the Imperial Guard. Remember, she is connected to the Borderers and the Subgaurdians."
"Then why wouldn't she have attempted a coup already? If she's as ambitious as we all assume and is eyeing up her brother's neck as you said she was?" Jean questioned.
"Gladiator," Hela answered simply. "Against him, I would wager that whatever numbers she could bring to bear would not be enough. Now here we are, Gladiator dead, Galactus defeated with a plan she might be able to sell as her own, and us, powerful foreigners who might be willing to act as mercenaries. It has happened before in human history has it not, the history of the Normans and the Vikings who birthed them, for example?"
This was all guesswork, Harry knew, but it was good guesswork, and stuff that they could definitely make certain was accurate once Jean was able to rummage around in Deathbird's head.
Exiting the shuttle onto the Shi'ar ship's hanger, Harry and Hela were greeted by Shi'ar naval personnel drawn up in two long lines. As the two earthers (as far as the Shi'ar knew anyway) stepped down from the ramp, the crewmen all smashed their clenched fists against their chests before saluting with their arms raised up at an angle above their heads. They wordlessly cheered the two earthers as they marched forward towards Deathbird, who stood at the far end of the two lines, her talon weapons noticeably absent.
"You did it. I'll admit, a part of me thought that you humans were blustering when you said you could fight Galactus on an even footing. But you did it. The Shi'ar Empire is thankful, and I am certain my brother, the Emperor, will have a feast prepared in your honor. We sent word of our victory already, and he has requested your presence there. But first, I wanted to ask if you had any wounded or damage to your ship that you required help with, and I wanted to have what we call Deg'razi, the honor drink. In the ancient past, when my people went out on hunts, the hunters would always come together to the pack hunter's home for a cup of the strongest drink they could find before heading home once more, a way to show appreciation for their courage."
Harry nodded, understanding that she was playing the crowd. "We thank you for this, and we graciously accept."
Nodding, Deathbird turned away, gesturing Hela and Harry to follow her. As they exited the hangar bay, she looked back at them. "I expected the red-haired one and the one with the fascinating dark skin to be with you, as well as the scientist Reed Richard. Where are they? A Deg'razi cup should rightfully be shared with all the leaders of this venture."
"Phoenix was injured in the destruction of the blade Morg had been further empowered by, and then again in the battle against Galactus," Harry answered, lying with an ease that would have appalled a far younger Harry. "She is not in critical condition but healing her has wiped out Storm for now. Neither are in any shape to be moving around. We have other wounded as well, although thankfully not nearly as many as we might have. We only lost Banshee and Havok in the battle, although Reed too was lost after Morg fell. He was retreating with one of the wounded, only to be struck in the head by a stray bolt of cutting energy."
Deathbird nodded, and Hela spoke up then before the woman could voice whatever empty platitude she was about to give voice to. After all, my words might be a platitude, but they are anything but empty. "Our condolences on your own losses. Your people fought with bravery and honor."
The Shi'ar princess simply nodded as she led the way through the ship, asking specific questions about the battle and its aftermath. The news that Galactus was still alive was appalling, especially after Harry told Deathbird that they had dropped what amounted to several tons worth of antimatter and a supernova on him. The idea of anything surviving was terrifying to Deathbird.
On the other hand, Morg's death and the destruction of his sword brought a smile to her face. "My brother might have issues with the destruction of what he thinks of as Imperial property, but I do not," she confided, smirking slightly. "Indeed, I rather approve."
Harry looked at her quizzically, and she shrugged, a motion that the Shi'ar, like nodding and so much else, had in common with humans and all other humanoid species. "If that thing could give such powers, why would I want it in the hands of anyone but myself? Yet the surviving Imperial Guard units who clashed with him in this battle noticed that the sword seemed to interfere with Morg's faculties. Ergo I would be hesitant to wield it and thus would sooner not see it in anyone else's hands."
Harry nodded, impressed slightly at that. At least Deathbird had enough self-understanding to know her limitations.
Soon enough, they were all in her room, sitting across from one another at a small, extremely personable desk made of a natural dark cherry-black wood, which looked almost like bamboo. In contrast, the area around the desk did not show any sign of long-term habitation, Deathbird not having bothered with that. This ship, after all, wasn't Deathbird's personal flagship. Instead, it was simply one of the many bombardment ships which composed the fleet that had been put together for the battle against Galactus.
However, she had brought along several decanters of extremely good wine as well as the desk.
She politely asked her guests whether they had a preference for sweet or tart wines, then poured out a blue wine for Hela, while Harry took a wine that was a surprisingly orange color, almost neon oranges point of fact. He looked at it quizzically, sniffed at it, smiling in approval before asking, "What exactly is this?"
"We call it Varl wine. It is a delicacy among my people and one of the most expensive wines known in the galaxy. It is one of my personal favorites," Deathbird replied as she pulled out a small device of some kind. She then set it on the table between them, flicking a small switch on the side. A brief tone followed, and she smiled grimly.
Not acknowledging this oddity, Harry waved the glass under his nose again, sending a brief apology to Jean about breaking the promise he and Ororo had made to not drink until Jean's pregnancy was over. "Only, I don't think I could get out of it this time, love."
"No worries, Harry," Jean snorted. "I agreed with you, and hey, at least technically I'm not pregnant right now, you know?"
While Jean was looking forward to being reunited with her unborn children, feeling the warmth of their presence and growing souls within her, she was also very worried about the unpleasant repercussions the Phoenix Force had warned her would occur when the being returned her babies. Not because she would go back to being a blimp, no. Jean was very worried about the backlash that would occur when the Phoenix Force returned her children to her. The being had warned it would not be a pleasant experience, after all.
Ugh, best not to think about it. It's like knowing there's a train coming your way and knowing you can't avoid it, whatever you do. But no matter what happens, it will be wonderful to be with my babies again…
Not being party to Jean's rather muddled thoughts at the moment, Harry took a sip of of the wine, nodding in approval at the taste. It almost didn't taste like wine at all. Rather, it tasted almost like a margarita, with orange and lemon and perhaps a hint of cherry mixed in.
The blue wine likewise met with Hela's approval, and the three of them took some time to talk further about the battle. Hela gave a running commentary on the battle against Morg, while Harry told about how they had trapped Galactus. He saw no harm in giving away their secrets for now since all knowledge of the battle would be erased from Deathbird's mind after this, either now or sometime in the future when they erased all knowledge of Earth and humanity from the Shi'ar Empire.
Feeling that thought brought Jean back to the here and now. "What do you want me to replace it with?" she questioned.
"Just destruction of the star, I think," Harry mused as Hela carried the discussion with Deathbird. "That, and we can use Gladiator and the Imperial Guard to deal with Morg, whose death somehow weakens Galactus. Along with, maybe, some kind of bomb to recreate Magma's powers?" Despite not taking part in the battle face to face, Magma's ability to give Galactus indigestion was seriously important to the battle against him, weakening and throwing Galactus off-balance right from the start.
Back on the ship, Jean bit her lip thoughtfully, then slowly nodded. "Okay, I think you can build on that... Deathbird wouldn't have been on the planet after all, plus maybe giving credit to one of their scientists for Reed's projects and that bomb would work?"
"We'll have to find a scientist to fit the part among their courtiers. But yes, that sounds workable," Harry answered before turning his attention back to Deathbird as he sensed the discussion of the battle slowly petering out. Taking a second sip of his wine, Harry firmly set it aside, nodding to Hela.
In response, Hela changed the topic of conversation abruptly. "Perhaps now that we have taken bread and salt, we should get down to business."
The bread and salt comment took Deathbird a moment to understand, but then she smiled grimly. "Ah, I see. A sign that you are an honored guest, perhaps?"
Hela nodded. "We accept that we are no longer in danger from you, but what is the real reason behind you wishing to talk to us in person? I do not believe that you are the type to simply want to socialize after a battle."
"Especially not with that little device there. A scrambler of some kind, I presume?"
Deathbird took a moment to take a sip from her own glass of orange wine, glancing over at Harry. Hela and Harry had been very 'honest' about the damage that the Custodes took in the battle and even said that James was much worse off than he actually was. Now Harry wondered if perhaps they had oversold it, as he detected a faint flicker of unease.
But then Deathbird set her glass down, and Harry could see in her body language that she had come to a decision. "Indeed it is. You can never be too careful after all, which is part of why I wished to talk to you. Tell me, do you honestly think that my brother D'ken will let all of you go back to your homeworld in peace? After humiliating him as you did, after slaying Gladiator, the strongest of our Imperial Guard?"
"No," Harry replied bluntly. "We're prepared for that eventuality. And if you think that just because some of our members are wounded, we will be unable to stop D'ken from attacking us, you are grossly mistaken."
"But why are you asking? Or rather warning us like this," Hela said, leaning forward, her body language screaming co-conspirator for a moment. "It is almost enough to make me believe that you might have… ulterior motives, perhaps?"
"I do," Deathbird announced, tossing the gauntlet down in no uncertain terms. "I, Cal'syee Neramani, of the Imperial family of the Shi'ar Empire, wish to comes to an agreement with you to form a temporary alliance, the purpose of which is to oust my brother from the throne and place myself on top of it. I saw your strengths, the power you wield, you Potter, and you Hela, and Storm and Phoenix. I firmly believe that even if only you two are combat capable, the Imperial Guard does not have the ability to deal with you without the aid of Gladiator. I believe that my brother's attempt to take advantage of the situation will fail miserably, and I believe that is one mistake too many for an empire to bear."
"That, and you want to be Empress," Hela said, certainty in her tone as she finished off her glass of wine, standing up to get the decanter. "Although I find it interesting that this is the first time we have heard your actual name."
"That, and I wish to be Empress," the woman acknowledged with an easy nod. "As for my name. I was born Cal'syee. I made myself into Deathbird, hence why I prefer it."
"So, we've determined that you have something to gain from this, but if we're still going to be walking into an ambush, and like you, we're pretty certain we could get out without your help, what's in it for us?" Harry asked as he fiddled with the bracelet he was wearing, turning on the device that Reed had constructed.
Deathbird nodded as if the question was completely understandable, and she and Hela began to haggle about what their aid was worth in terms of technological resources. So busy with Hela was she, that Deathbird didn't notice Harry twisting his wrist around to where a red glow slowly turned green. With that, he reached out to Jean. "Her defenses should be down. Can you…"
"Already on it," Jean replied instantly, and midsentence, Deathbird paused as Jean's willpower slammed into her mind despite the distance between the two ships.
Deathbird's eyes widened for a brief second as she felt the intrusion. Deathbird, like her siblings, had some measure of mental discipline, but it wasn't enough on its own to stop a telepath of even Oracle's power, let alone Jean Grey. The redhead bore in, halting the woman's voice, shutting down her mind for a moment and freezing her body in place as she began to search around inside of the Shi'ar woman's mind.
"She was planning to betray us the moment her brother was dead. Deathbird even sent out a signal to a group of Outland guards before you boarded her ship. Two of the Imperial fleet's Admirals are also under her sway, although Deathbird only has about a third of the Home Fleet captains willing to follow her lead," Jean reported, now communicating with both Harry and Hela, while also speaking aloud to Reed, Ben and Thundra aboard the bridge. The others had opted to head to sleep, not having much to contribute at this point in the planning.
"She also knows about the Emperor's plans for us," Jean went on after a few seconds. "It looks like he was going to use narcotics and hallucinogens in various forms to weaken and break our minds. It… it looks like it's some kind of thing he uses on his harem women combined with things they put in prisoner's food to weaken them or break them before interrogation. If… I hate to say it, but one of the various pathogens might have worked if we were taken by surprise. The air-based one in particular."
"Hmm… yeah, that one might have caused issues," Harry agreed, scowling and thankful they had been on the lookout for this kind of thing. "Blocking or negating poisons in food or drink is actually a simple enchantment to use if you think about it at all. Air-based… I don't know of any spell that isn't very visible that could deal with that kind of thing.
"So the question now becomes, what are we going to do?" Hela mused, her tone almost whimsical but her eyes very firm as she looked at her Seidr Man.
Seeing that look, Harry straightened his shoulders and looked back at Hela firmly, speaking not just to her but to Jean and Ororo. The others would learn of his decision when he returned to the ship.
"We're going to use her," he declared bluntly. "And when we get there, we are going to use the virus as well."
He could feel Jean's shock as she realized he wasn't actually opening this up for debate. No, he was simply stating what they would do. It was harsh, but being a leader meant that Harry had to put what was good for his people ahead of his own sense of morality. Harry, the individual, was appalled at the idea of using a computer virus that would basically destroy any system it touched in due course, shutting down all intergalactic communication, destroying any ability to communicate, destroying their hyperdrives and indeed a large portion of their computer-based infrastructure. Worse yet, the virus was self-replicating. It would just keep on going, continuing to destroy any system it interacted with after its first initial activation.
Billions, trillions of people might die as the Empire came apart. But Earth would be saved. The Shi'ar Empire would cease to exist, let alone be a threat, for a very, very long time. And in the end, saving humanity from facing yet another extraterrestrial threat was worth it.
Hela smiled in approval, both of the action, and how Harry was going about it. Such is the way of a Jarl, the final word must be his.
On the bridge of the Long Voyager, Ororo simply nodded her head. She was more resigned to this act than approving, but she had studied the history of the Shi'ar with Reed and Harry. Ororo had come away with the knowledge that this race's leaders could not be trusted to keep their word, could not be trusted to leave Earth alone now, and further, were purely evil in how they treated other races, just like the Kree.
Indeed, in a way, the Kree were the more understandable evil. They had never simply eaten another sentient race into practical extinction, after all. That made working non-space faring races to death over generations seem no less evil but certainly less horrifying.
Jean too very reluctantly agreed on this course of action, although unlike the others, she disproved of the way Harry was handling making the call, taking this choice and its consequences all on his own shoulders. "I agree," she said formally, adding her words to Harry's as if she too had made the decision. "The Shi'ar know too much about us, and they aren't like the Kree, who we know have already cut their losses. D'ken or Deathbird or even Lilandra, the Shi'ar are too vindictive to be let alone on the hope that they won't come after Earth later."
Smiling tenderly at Jean's words and support for his decisions, Harry asked her softly to release her hold on Deathbird.
As far as Deathbird was concerned, the last ten minutes had not occurred, and she continued speaking as if that was the case, arguing a point about death rays and whether or not that piece of technology was on the table as part of the payment to the humans for helping her ambition. She didn't know that Jean had already implanted the mental suggestions and commands inside of her brain to come under Jean's command at the appropriate time. And because the electronic defense the Shi'ar used only detected changes to her overall brain pattern as they occurred, they could not detect embedded suggestions once they were in place.
Forcing out a laugh, Harry reached over and tapped Hela on the elbow, shaking his head. "We don't need that kind of technology, love. What we need is anonymity and being left alone to our own devices. Earth is far away from your Empire. With Galactus gone, we have nothing you want, no resources that you could not get easier elsewhere. Yes, we are individually powerful, but as a race, we wish to be left alone. We have no dreams of Empire, no thoughts beyond our own star system. Promise us that the Empire will leave us alone, and we will agree to help you against your brother."
"Is that all?" Deathbird snorted. "That seems too small a price to pay and is rather suspicious."
"Oh, we'll take the technologies that Hela was trying to finagle you out of," Harry answered cheerfully. "But remember, we're all under the assumption that D'ken is going to pull something anyway. If that's the case, then helping you permanently remove and replace them isn't all that big of a jump."
Deathbird forced out a laugh, nodding her head. "That is true. So, let's get down to the meat of the prey."
For the next twenty minutes, they discussed various portions of the plan, with Deathbird being open about the various resources she had slowly begun to put in place for her own power play and what she knew of the plans that the Emperor was making. Jean pointed out, though, that Deathbird didn't share all of those plans. "She's not telling you about the gas that apparently is going to try to affect our libidos and intoxicate our minds. She's only telling us about the poisons and drugs in the food. Bitch."
"I would wager Steven, Hela and myself can come up with some way to deal with all the various drugs they want to try to give us," Harry soothed. "The only issue will be the air-based assault, and even there, we should be able to come up with something. Really, my concerns are the orbital defenses and the Shi'ar's Home Fleet."
When he said that last aspect aloud, it was Deathbird who replied rather than Jean. "You are correct. The orbital defenses are a threat, but I have several agents in positions of power there. They will be ready to act when needed. They might be able to even keep the orbital stations from becoming directly involved. Beyond sending down the Imperial Guard units, they will undoubtedly be playing host to, at any rate. Just because my brother believes that the poisons in your meal will do the job doesn't mean that he is so foolish as to not stack the deck further. Indeed, he might well have pulled in more Imperial Guard units to fight you all then were fighting Galactus."
Harry waved that off. "Numbers really don't matter much to us. We can deal with them so long as myself or one of our other more powerful members isn't forced to do double duty, blocking the attacks from the orbital defenses at the same time we're fighting on the ground."
There was a flash of concern from Deathbird at that point that Jean helpfully relayed, commenting on the fact that she was just now almost having second thoughts about using them, but not really. A momentary misgiving was all. For Deathbird, the die had been cast.
Soon, the discussion faded, and the two earthers stood up to leave. Spending too much time together might seem suspicious to those members of the crew who could possibly be informants for the Emperor. Deathbird walked the duo back down to their shuttle and bid them farewell, smiling internally at how well the meeting had gone. For the paltry sum of a promise of few bits and pieces of technology and the knowledge of D'ken's actions, I will gain the crown of the Empire! After that, we will have to see...
Back aboard the ship, Harry called a meeting for everyone aboard. This took some time, as many had gone to sleep, and several were not happy about being roused, feeling they had earned the mother of all lie-ins for their day's work.
When they were all gathered, Harry began. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, it turns out that yes, Deathbird has her own plans, and she wants to use us for them. Considering that we know that the Emperor is planning to betray us anyway, we agreed to help. But more than that, I have made the decision of what to do going forward."
Harry looked around, locking eyes with each individual there in turn, as he continued. "We're going to use the virus. Instead of just removing D'ken from power, we're going to kill him, and then we are going to bring the Empire down around their ears while also setting a civil war into motion between his siblings."
Like his lovers had been, the men and women around him were surprised at the tone of voice Harry was using. He was not asking for their approval or even for their backing. He was simply stating what was going to happen. The decision had been made.
Everyone there simply nodded, with only Stephen and Reed looking a little worried, while Ben looked regretful but understanding. Reed, too, only looked worried about the feasibility of what they were planning, as he agreed with the necessity.
Steven, on the other hand, did not. But he also knew that it was Harry's call and wouldn't fight against it. He did, however, say, "I will have no part in actually downloading the virus into their internet or whatever it is called. Nor will I fight the Emperor personally, who is so outmatched that it is laughable against you and your team, Harry. I am not a king, nor am I a leader. My sense of honor is not like yours. Nor do I work for you yet," he finished, smiling wryly as he gestured around at the others.
"Will you help in creating the illusions and false memories we'll need to create afterward to erase our presence from their minds?" Hela asked, sounding somewhat contemptuous of Steven's position.
But Harry was much more positive as Steven nodded. He was simply happy to have whatever help the powerful mage was willing to give them, and he knew that Steven would be instrumental in creating the series of memories that they would have to implant into the mind of everyone in the entire system after the fact to cover up the human's involvement. Magic and Jean's telepathy would be the keys to that, just as much as erasing any physical evidence above and beyond the virus's propagation.