They called it the Day of Purging; the day the very sky itself opened up and swallowed the world, all for the sin of using machines.

It was chaos in the streets all around the globe; buildings crumbled as the earth shook violently, cyclonic winds ravaged the land and gigantic waves lashed the shoreline of every continent. Worst of all was the massive white slash in the starlit sky that continued to grow until it took up most of the horizon.

Everywhere were panicked Quel, flitting around on their four legs like fear stricken lizards. Although a diminutive race, the Quel had mastered their world through the development of technology. They relied on it like a plant relied on the sun’s rays for life. Unfortunately no technology could protect them now; in fact for millennia after this day it would be said that an experiment gone had caused the diaster.

The panic escalated into near mad hysteria when a colossal figure came into view through the tear. Though too big to be fully seen through the tear in space it was clearly a massive structure made of dozens of long black crystal, each one bigger than their own world.

Few Quel realised until it was too late that the tear in space wasn’t expanding, their world was drawing closer too it. It took less than an hour for their planet’s orbit to carry them through the tear and into a place of intense whiteness, crackling with energy.

It was then that the crystalline leviathan spoke to them. Not through words, it was from time before words, but through images and feelings. It was an entity of pure malevolence, one that could smite the Quel’s insignificant world in a second, but instead it chose to teach them how to better themselves without the sins of machinery.

Over the millennia they learned how to build ships and devices from the crystalline body of their new god, which they named the Korhan. Most important of all, the Korhan taught them how to improve their own genetic structure and over time they evolved into the Quel’toth.

Eventually the Quel’toth were ready for their greatest mission; to purge the universe of all life they saw as unworthy to exist.

2500 years ago, the Milky Way Galaxy

“Just one hand after the other,” said the young tribesman to no one, driving himself on.

He had spent the past four hours climbing the Forbidden Peak, it was an agonising struggle, but the young alien would never give up until he had proven himself a man to the Nauroch clan and, more importantly, to his father.

He was il’Dragoononadas, son of Noranthalalas, chieftain of their tribe. The young Nauroch had lived in his father’s shadow all his life and he was forever a disappointment to Noranthalalas. Rake thin like his mother, the teenager looked pathetically weak in comparison to the hulking frame of his father.

It was for that reason he was scaling the Forbidden Peak; many of the desert tribes in the region believed the lone mountain to be haunted, that a black spirit dwelled within a cave at the top of the peak. If he could walk somewhere even his father wouldn’t dare to tread then surely he would be a man.

Eventually he reached the apex of the mountain; the hot, stinging wind even reached him up here, though his thick, sand coloured scales protected him from the worst of it. Nearby was a small, non-descript cave entrance, through which he entered.

Within he found a massive cave filled with sparkling black crystals. It was both beautiful and eerie at the same time, especially the way he could see himself reflected from so many angles. Seeing himself reflected in so many ways accentuated all his faults; he was too tall and skinny, his crown of horns were mere nubs and his eyes were pale green rather than the powerful golden sheen of his race.

Suddenly he we struck by a blast of white energy from one of the larger crystals, and then another and another until he was enveloped in burning white energy. Strangely the energy didn’t hurt, though his mind was overwhelmed with images of himself conquering the galaxy and a strange, gigantic cluster of black crystals floating in a white void.

As suddenly as the energy appeared it was gone, and he felt somehow…different. He didn’t feel any stronger or weaker, but there was an odd burning within his chest, a desperate hunger. When he caught a glimpse of himself within a crystal he realised his once greens eyes had become burning white orbs, crackling with energy. He had faced the black spirit and he had survived, his father had to admit he was a man now.

After several hours climbing back down the mountain and traversing the burning desert sands he arrived back at the Nauroch clan’s village. Rushing directly to his family’s hut he burst inside, eager to tell his father of his achievement.

“Where have you been il’Dragoononadas?” said his father, brimming with anger, “your mother had to tan the krenchan hides on her own…” his voice turned suspicious, “what’s happened to your eyes boy?”

“I climbed the Forbidden Peak father,” he replied, not sure how his father would react, “I faced the black spirit and I survived…”

The chieftain exploded forward, grabbing his son by the throat, “What have you done to my son!” he screamed.

il’Dragoononadas was confused, “I am your son,” he choked.

“Lies! The Black Spirit has taken my son; I can see it in your evil eyes!”

The boy grew angry now; his father still refused to believe was a man. As that anger grew so too did the burning hunger deep within his chest. As the pair struggled, a silvery white stream of light passed from the father’s mouth to the son, easing the hunger deep within.

It was only a few seconds but it felt like an eternity; the son watched as the life drained away from his father’s eyes. Noranthalalas’ cold fingers slipped away from his son’s throat as the corpse fell to the floor. By killing his father he had truly become a man, and thus the prefix il, meaning child, was lost from his name. He was now Dragoononadas, or Dragoon.

The man now known as Dragoon looked upon his father’s corpse and felt his sire’s strength now running through is own veins.

This was only the beginning.

Aboard the Quel’toth Ship Blood Pride

As cliché as it sounds, the wind rushed through their hair as the ground raced up to meet them. Actually it was the Dasagroth’s buttress like roots rather than the ground racing up to meet them but the effect would still be the same; Corsair and Z’Cann would be killed on impact.

Just moments before they pair had engaged in combat with the Sen’khan and come off second best. The powerful alien had effortlessly hurled both of them over the edge of the platform to their apparent doom.

Obviously the Sen’khan wasn’t familiar with the physiology of Skrulls though. In the blink of an eye Z’Cann grew a pair of leathery wings and grabbed a hold of her captain, Corsair. He was heavy but with wings she’d able to control their descent safely.

Tsssssseeeeww

The Skrull woman cried out in pain as an energy beam pierced her right wing; the Quel’toth on higher levels were firing on them, and they were easing pickings. Soon another blast burnt through the same wing and they were falling again.

Every hair on each of their heads stood on end as they were grabbed by a hand of telekinetic energy, suddenly halting their fall once again. They were quickly lowered to the ground, albeit at a much safer pace then before.

“Oh God not him!” exclaimed Corsair when he realised the being who saved them was none other than Dragoon!

While not having met Dragoon, Z’Cann recognised him by pieces of memories shared with her by the rest of the crew. She knew he was an unstoppable force; even Gladiator, the most powerful warrior in the Shi’ar army, couldn’t stand up against him. Judging by the swath of destruction left behind him neither could the Quel’toth.

“Fate has brought you before me mortals,” boomed Dragoon, “surely you do not doubt my divinity now?”

“You’re not the first overpowered psychopath with delusions of grandeur Dragoon,” replied Corsair, “A lot has happened to this universe while you’ve been gone.”

“So it would seem,” replied Dragoon, “On your knees, unbeliever.”

Electricity surged through the captain’s body without warning, bringing to his knees in agony.

“Christopher!” Exclaimed Z’Cann, but she was frozen in place telekinetically.

“I will give you one chance and once chance only to live,” stated the self proclaimed god icily, “tell me what this…monstrosity is and who are the creatures that serve it?” he gestured towards the Dasagroth.

“The Dasagroth serves to further the might of the Quel’toth not the other way around stranger!” shouted the Sen’khan from above.

“Incorrect, the Quel’toth serve merely as a vector for this humble vessel,” said a flat, emotionless voice.

All eyes searched the room for the source of the voice, but none could be found, until the corpse of a Kree soldier was pulled from the bulk of the Dasagroth by one of its writhing tentacles. Upon closer inspection all present realised it was only the upper half of a Kree man. It was held suspended in the air from the back of the head by the monster’s tentacle; dozens of black threads, like a spider web or fungal hyphae could be seen covering the corpse.

“Did that dead guy just speak?” asked Fallout, neither Z’Cann nor Corsair had even noticed him until now.

“It speaks,” said Dragoon, more to himself than anybody else.

“Correct, this humble vessel can utilize tools through which to better communicate with lesser beings,”

“Tools?! That’s a person’s body you’re defiling!” shouted Corsair as he gradually got to his feet.

Without warning a massive tentacle extended from the base of the creature and swept Corsair, Z’Cann and Fallout from the chamber. Above dozens of other tentacles were doing the same to all the Quel’toth on the higher levels. Corsair couldn’t help but grin when he caught a glimpse of the Sen’khan being shoved bodily though a door.

The trio were tossed unceremoniously through the hole Dragoon created, and watched in awe as the Dasagroth sealed the entrance with its own body material. All other entrances to the room were likely being sealed also.

“Son of a…” Fallout extended his hands and blasted the barricade with lethal radiation, to no avail.

“What are you doing?!” demanded Corsair, “Leave those two monsters sealed in with each other.”

“I…your right,” the young mutant sagged, “you have to get me out of Summers. Dragoon saved my life but he’s a madman. I just want to go home.”

Christopher briefly considered rejecting the young man’s plea but it wasn’t in his nature to not help someone in need. Besides, both he and Z’Cann were unarmed, and Fallout was a living weapon.

“Ok, but I want you in front of us at all times,” he replied, “we need to find a way off this ship, and we need to find a way to destroy it.”

Elsewhere on the ship

The Sen’khan bashed in vain against the door to the Dasagroth’s chamber, which was now sealed shut with a rigid black substance. A half a dozen Deltas ran down the hall to his aid.

“Get that door open anyway you can!” he ordered.

“Yes sai!” as one, the soldiers opened fire upon the crystalline door, blasting it to pieces. Unfortunately all this revealed was more of the Dasagroth’s bulk behind it.

“Keep trying! I want to get into that chamber!”

A voice crackled over his com, worn on the collar of his red cloak, “Sen’khan, you said to tell you when we have arrived at out destination.”

“Very good Beta, scan the planet for life signs and resources and then return your report.”

Finally something was going right today; one of the many skills the Alpha class had was the gift of psychometry, to sense an objects origins. Using this ability on the captured humans lead the Quel’toth to a Brood armada and long abandoned cloning facilities; not exactly what they were looking for. With the unexpected capture of the new human, the Quel’toth had exactly what they needed, the co-ordinates to a planet prime with amazing genetic material.

They would learn the secret of the human’s startling genetic potential, add it to their own and strip Earth bare.

Aboard the Starjammer; the bridge

“Quickly, while their shields are down, we must get on board that ship,” exclaimed Nightcrawler, or rather the clone of Nightcrawler, “we have to save Corsair and Z’Cann and destroy that fleet before they attack Earth!”

“Yes Kurt, we know,” replied Raza, who was armed to the teeth with his twin sabres, half a dozen daggers and a pair of energy pistols.

“Keep you ssshirt on Bluey, it’ss hard to get a lock on Z’Cann’sss signal,” said Ch’od.

The Saurian, a pacifist at heart, had dusted of his preferred but much unused weapon; a massive war hammer which sent a surge of energy through anyone it struck. On the rare occasions he brought the hammer into battle he decimated all opposition. Clutching the hammer’s long handle left a bad taste in the loveable alien’s mouth but he swallowed his distaste for the sake of the captain.

“Teleportation lock ready,” stated the ship’s AI, Waldo, flatly.

“Are you sure Yana will be well cared for here?” asked a concerned Kurt.

“Relax,Waldo and Sikorssssky are more than capable of taking care of the baby,” Ch’od placated, “teleporting now…”

The trio dematerialised in a flash of golden light.

Med Bay

“Oh dear, oh dear, please stop crying little infant human,” said a very flustered Sikorsky.

The dragonfly-like alien flitted around the makeshift baby crib, a non functioning stasis pod, trying to calm down baby Yana.

“Curse those…pirates for leaving me with this…wailing poop machine! I’m a doctor not a babysitter!” he scanned the baby once again, “Scans show you have more than the adequate amount of food in your stomach, your fluid levels are high, there is no waste in your garments…Waldo is there any information in your data banks on human babies?”

“Searching data banks,” replied the computer, “Initiating human adult to infant dialogue: ‘coochie coochie coo. Who’s da cute baby? You are! Yes you are! Coochie Coochie…’”

“What in blazes was that?” demanded Sikorsky. The dialogue sounded ridiculous enough without putting it in Waldo’s emotionless monotone.

“Initiating human lullaby; ‘Rockabye baby in the treetop…’”

Else where in the galaxy; Hrrar’s ship.

Hrrar had managed to track Dragoon’s fleet to a distant part of the Milky Way galaxy, moving away from the Shi’ar galaxy, which he didn’t like at all. The Mephistoid became more irritable as the likelihood of Dragoon attacking the Shi’ar decreased.

It appeared as if the entire fleet was moving at top speed towards quadrant 2294, which contained Corsair’s home world Earth. Hepzibah didn’t mention this to Hrrar though, as it would likely make him angrier.

Since the attack on the Shi’ar hospital ship she had noticed the male used his pheromones on her on a dozen more occasions. He would make her cook, clean, do maintenance, bed him; he was turning her into a slave and she hated it.

It was difficult to find the opportunity to strike back at the male but eventually she did. Hrrar had become increasingly distracted trying to work out where Dragoon’s fleet were headed and why they had abandoned the notion of attacking the Shi’ar, it was while he was plotting stellar routes that she took her chance.

Hrrar heard the doors slide open as he leaned over the console, as if trying to menace the computer into telling him where the fleet was going. He didn’t even bother to turn and look at his new mate.

“Woman, go and fetch me some stygian ale,” he ordered, exuding some mind controlling pheromones for good measure.

“No,” she replied.

It was then that Hrrar turned around in wide eyed surprise. His eyes grew even wider when he realised Hepzibah was wearing a full body space suit and holding a gun.

“Hepzibah, what are you doing?” demanded the male, while emitting more pheromones.

“Don’t even bother, you son of a glatch,” she tapped the clear face plate of her suit, “self contained oxygen.”

Hrrar started to say, “You stupid b…” but his enslaved lover shot him with a laser blast in the right thigh before he could finish.

“I’m talking now!” she shouted as he fell to the ground, clutching his badly hurt leg, “actually I think actions speak louder than words…” she shot him again, this time where all mean fear being shot most of all.

The male cried out in agony once again can clutched his damaged…area. “I’ll kill you for this! You’ll die Hepzibah, I promise you!”

“I’m the one with the gun rememberrr?” she shot him one last time, though she set the weapon on stun first. As much as she wanted to kill the Mephistoid she knew the punishment he’d already been dealt with was much more appropriate; she wanted him to suffer for the rest of his life.

Grabbing him by the ankle she dragged the semi-conscious man to the nearest escape pod and dumped him inside. The man who had ruined her relationship with Corsair looked at her with groggy eyes.

“I’m no man’s tool,” she said coldly, as she launched the pod into the emptiness of space.

The Blood Pride; the Dasagroth’s chamber

“What manner of creature are you?” Dragoon asked the Dasagroth, or rather the corpse dangling before him.

“This humble vessel goes by many names,” said the corpse flatly, it’s dead eyes looking passed the god, “Dasagroth is the name most commonly imposed, though the Drinker of Souls, Conduit to on High and Black Thread are also names through which this humble vessel is referred,”

“I didn’t ask what you were called, monster, I want to know what you are!” he demanded.

“This humble vessel is a fungal based organism created to tap the unlimited power of the Korhan to further the work of its servants; the Quel’toth,”

Dragoon was quickly growing impatient with the gigantic creature, especially the way it kept referring to itself as ‘this humble vessel’ but he swallowed his anger, he needed answers.

“I sensed your power from across the galaxy; I have only felt it once before, long ago. I demand to know where your power comes from!”

“This humble vessel is empowered by the Korhan, as are you,” replied the Dasagroth through the corpse, “both you and this humble vessel are servants of the Korhan, we further its grand scheme for the universe…”

“I SERVE NO ONE!” bellowed Dragoon and he fired off a blast of white energy, incinerating the corpse and a chunk of the massive creature.

“You are an instrument il’Dragoononadas,” said another corpse, this one a Brood, “like the Quel’toth you spread chaos and destruction. You a piece of the grand design, feel humbled Chaos-Bringer,”

“Never!” he destroyed this corpse too, “I am no-one’s servant! I would rather die!”

“Very well,” said a dozen more corpses in unison.

A tentacle extended itself from the bulk of the creature and knocked Dragoon through a wall, who fired an energy blast in return and severed the limb. The Chaos-Bringer was shocked to see the amputated tentacle dissolve into thousands of smaller tendrils and rejoin the bulk of the Dasagroth’s form.

“Finally, a challenge!” yelled Dragoon as he charged back into the chamber, blowing chunks off the creature with multiple energy blasts.

The Prison Cells

The entire ship shook. At first Scott didn’t notice it as he just assumed it was Peter punching the cell wall again, but then the shaking increased to a violent shudder.

“Rrrrrrraaaaggggghhhhh!” Screamed Peter.

Blinded by a band of crystal, Scott didn’t realise the energy fields holding them in prison had suddenly failed. Peter seized the opportunity and launched himself against the lone guard. Caught by surprise, the Quel’toth stood no chance against the awesome fury of a caged Colossus.

Kitty grabbed a hold of the crystal band around Scott’s head and phased it off him; after weeks of blindness he could finally see. Because the cloning process didn’t replicate the brain damage caused to the original Cyclops, he did not need ruby quarts lenses to hold his optic beams in check.

“Scott what do we do?” asked Kitty as she helped the weakened Scott to his feet.

“We need to find my fath…Corsair, and get the hell off this ship,”

The trio ran off down the hall, with no real idea where they were headed. What ever was causing the ship to shudder so violently must have drawn the attention of all the soldiers, as they encountered none.

Their good luck turned sour when they turned a corner and found themselves facing the Sen’khan himself and a half a dozen delta class soldiers.

Elsewhere on the ship

“What the hell is going on?” asked a nervous Fallout.

BOOM! The ship shuddered violently once again.

“I don’t know but keep moving, I think the prison quarters are around here somewhere,” replied Corsair.

“Down this hall, turn left, then left again,” Z’Cann added, “I’m sorry if I have a better sense of direction than you,” she smiled at the captain’s surprised look.

They proceeded down the hallway but were stopped short by a sudden flash of light; Raza, Ch’od and Nightcrawler materialized before them.

“Captain!” exclaimed Ch’od.

“Z’Cann you’re safe,” sighed a relieved Raza.

“I’m ok too thanks Raza,” joked Corsair.

“Who’s your friend?” asked Nightcrawler, gesturing towards Fallout.

“The time for introductions is later, we need to MOVE,” Corsair lead the group down the hall way at a run.

“So what species are you?” Fallout asked Nightcrawler as they ran.

“Human, you?”

“Me too. Are you sure you’re human, you don’t look it.”

“Neither do you with that spaceman suit on, I guess we’ll call it a draw…”

Suddenly though the roof, the solid roof, fell the Sen’khan and Kitty, interrupting all conversations and bringing the group to a halt.

As soon as her trio encountered the Sen’khan, Kitty thought quickly and took him out of the fight. Unfortunately she’d brought him down into a whole new group of friends. With lightning fast reflexes, the alien leader dove away from Kitty before she could phase him away again.

As he dove through the air he knocked Corsair over and kicked Z’Cann in the face, before grabbing Raza by the wrist and throwing him down the hallway. As Corsair tried to get to his feet he felt an elbow in the face, taking him out of the fight for a minute at least.

Fallout stood frozen in fear while the Sen’khan took out each of his companions one by one. Ch’od swung his massive battle hammer but he was far too slow; the ebony skinned alien leapt onto the hammer, ran down the length of the handle and kicked the Saurian in the face with surprising strength. As Ch’od stumbled backwards, the Quel’toth assaulted him with a barrage of fists before Nightcrawler teleported in with blades swinging.

With amazing reflexes the Sen’khan dodged all of Kurt’s swings before trying to throw a punch at the mutant. It was a feint though, and as the mutant ‘ported to dodge the attack, his opponent swung around and landed a hammer blow to his stomach as he reappeared. Kurt flew backwards through the air but managed to land elegantly, but winded, on his feet.

“I can sense your every move before you make it,” the Sen’khan said to the group, “Surrender now.”

“Not likely,” replied Kurt, as he appeared above the alien once again with blades swinging.

The Sen’khan drew his own ice blue crystal blade, and met Nightcrawler in battle. Raza too charged back onto the scene firing his laser at the alien to no avail; just like the deltas their leader appeared to be immune to laser fire. He instead drew both his blades and attacked.

Surprisingly, the cyborg landed a deep cut across the Sen’khan’s back, though he didn’t cry out in pain. With a vicious backwards kick he knocked Raza backwards before grabbing Kurt by the tail and throwing him at the cyborg; both went down in a tangle of arms and legs.

In a sudden and surprising movement he threw his crystal blade at Z’Cann as she got back up, impaling her in the shoulder. Somehow he realised it was the Skrull woman who was blocking his telepathy, which had allowed Raza to attack him undetected.

Corsair, who had shook off his daze, grabbed one of Raza’s sabres and charged at the Sen’khan, while Ch’od charged him from the opposite side. As quick as ever, the alien leader leapt aside and grabbed Ch’od by his massive wrist. By using his momentum against him, the Quel’toth flipped the large Saurian over on top of Corsair.

Almost quicker then she could react, the vicious alien leapt at Kitty, yanking his blade from Z’Cann’s shoulder as he flew passed. She turned intangible just in time and the crystal blade sailed right through her. He tried to cut her several more times in vain.

It was at that moment that Fallout shook himself from his fear induced stupor and blasted the Sen’khan with a powerful cocktail of radiation. Unfortunately his target leapt out of the way just in time and Kitty received the full blast instead. Even in phased form she wasn’t immune to the effects of radiation; she slipped back into her solid form, fell to her knees and started vomiting up blood. The Sen’khan took advantage of this weakness and stabbed her in the back.

“Kitty NO!” screamed Kurt as he watched the life fade from his friends eyes.

BOOM! Part of the ceiling caved in as one of Scott’s optic blasts penetrated it from above.

“KATYA!” yelled Peter.

Overcome with grief and rage, the iron giant leapt down from the level above directly onto the Sen’khan. The alien went down under the immense weight of the mutant; he was strong, but still not in the league of Colossus. Especially not a Colossus enraged beyond all reason.

The group could only watch on in horror as Peter pummelled his wife’s murderer. With each blow there was the sickening crunch of bones breaking and tissue ripping. Eventually the Sen’khan stopped struggling; he was surely dead. That didn’t stop Peter from pounding the alien’s corpse, splattering violet blood everywhere, until Kurt placed a hand on his shoulder.

“He’s dead mein freund,” he said softly.

Piotr spun around, fist raised as if to strike his friend. Kurt would forever have that image burned into his memory; Piotr’s face, splattered with violet gore and almost unrecognisable with fury.

The rage seemed to evaporate from him as he returned to his flesh form and he fell to his knees before Kitty’s body.

“Oh Kayta,” he stroked her soft brown hair, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t the man you fell in love with,” he rubbed his own shorn head as if to remind himself of the man he had become, “I promise I will be a good father to Yana…” he looked up at Kurt with worried eyes, “where is Yana?”

“She is safe on the Starjammer, friend.”

“Then let us go there, we have no need to be here anymore,” the large man rose and cradled his dead wife in his arms.

The ship rocked violently once again.

“Agreed, it sounds like Dragoon is taking care of the ship for us. Let’s get out of here,” said Corsair.

The Dasagroth’s Chamber

Boom! Dragoon’s energy blast missed the Dasagroth and destroyed yet another wall. Gigantic shards of crystal were raining down all around him as he charged the creature once again.

He was haggard; never since his transformation into a god had he endured such a battle. No matter how many times he attacked the creature it shrugged off the damage and regenerated. What’s more, every time it laid it’s tentacles on him he felt a little bit more of his godlike powers draining away. Unfortunately, when he tried to do the same to the creature it had no effect, and yet he could sense the enormous power buried deep within the Dasagroth.

Half a dozen smaller tendrils entangled his legs and lifted him off the ground like a prize chicken. Fighting against the energy drain, he ripped the vine like material to shreds with his bare hands and levitated magnetically.

Never had he been forced to use so much power before in battle, but there was no way he was going to bow down to some unseen master. His eyes flared white hot as his entire body crackled with intense white energy; dozens of bolts of lightning like energy fired off in random directions, obliterating anything they touched.

“Now feel my divine wrath, demon!”

Dragoon’s Flagship

It was more than an hour after they arrived out of hyperspace before Tesk-Nor and the other clerics got the bridge door open. What they found inside was completely unexpected; absolutely nothing.

“Where is our Divine Lord?” asked one acolyte.

There was no trace of their mighty lord Dragoon or the one known as Fallout, in fact there wasn’t one piece of loose furniture either.

“Oh I see, the Great One ascended to a higher plane of existence and took all the furniture with him,” said another acolyte.

“You don’t think a higher plane of existence already has chairs?” retorted the first.

“Imbeciles!” yelled Tesk-Nor.

The head priest stormed over to the nearest console and began scanning the solar system. A smile crept across his face as he noticed the rest of the fleet was just arriving. Something else caught his attention; a massive surge of energy around the other side of the gas giant they were docked near.

After transmitting orders to the rest of the armada, he brought the massive ship around the planet to better observe the energy signature and was shocked by what he saw; dozens of black crystal ships, each tapered to a needle nose point.

Once again he detected the energy spike; it matched Dragoon’s awesome power exactly. It was flaring dramatically within the largest ship!

“Our great Lord Dragoon is battling these infidels! We must aid him!” exclaimed the fanatic.

Battling alongside their great lord Dragoon had been a dream of all the Vanguard so none argued when their high priest lead the fleet directly at the alien armada, guns blazing.

The Starjammer

“Waldo, this is Raza, we need you to teleport us out of here ASAP,” said the cyborg over his commlink.

“That might be easier said than done,” replied the AI.

Nearby, dozens of ships were engaged in brutal combat. It was unclear to Waldo who the Quel’toth’s assailants were but they were clearly a hodgepodge of various ships.

In order to teleport the crew back onboard the ship, Waldo needed to get the Starjammer within range, which meant having to take the ship within a veritable hornet’s nest of hostility.

Sighing to himself (digitally, because computers don’t breathe), the AI propelled the ship forward at breakneck speeds into the conflagration of enemy ships. Almost immediately he had to bank right to dodge a Skrull fighter, and nearly crashed into a Quel’toth vessel. By veering up as hard as possible, the Starjammer’s lower fin just nicked the crystalline ship.

The computer registered that the Quel’toth’s formidable shields seemed to be inactive, but had no time to process this information; keeping the ship in one piece was more important.

After a few minutes of dodging and weaving the Starjammer was almost within teleportation range. Unfortunately for Waldo, the Quel’toth’s defences were the densest around the command ship, which just happened to be the current location of the Starjammers.

No matter how hard he tried to reach the ship, the other, smaller Quel’toth ships kept fighting him back; it was a miracle the ship wasn’t destroyed.

Aboard the Blood Pride

“Ummm Waldo, do you hear me?” Raza tapped his com device.

They were a battered group; all of them were hurt in some way, especially Z’Cann whose shoulder was bleeding profusely. All they wanted to do was get off the alien ship and recuperate.

Fallout huddled nearby in a corner, staring at his hands and mumbling. “It’s all my fault, I killed her,” he said softly to himself. No-one else caught what he was saying.

Tssssseeeewww! A violet energy blast surged passed the group and struck a nearby wall. Quel’toth soldiers came charging down the hall in their direction firing off shots.

“Run!” Yelled Scott as he fired an optic blast; the crimson beam scattered their assailants but more took their place.

The group ran around a sharp corner only to find themselves facing even more opposition; they were trapped. Dozens of crystalline rifles were trained on them; there was no way to avoid the deadly energy beams.

Corsair felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as the multitude of weapons fired, he even saw one particular beam about to strike him straight between the eyes…but it never hit him.

In an almost surreal moment, the octet were teleported away from the deadly crossfire, their molecules scattered and spread across space before being reformed in the relative safety of the Starjammer…except they didn’t manifest in the Starjammer, it was another ship.

“Welcome aboarrrd the Beautiful Hepzibah,” said a very familiar voice.

“Hepzibah!” exclaimed a stunned Corsair.

In the blink of an eye she was in his arms; no matter what had happened between them in the past week, they still loved each other greatly, there was no denying that.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, “whose ship is this?”

Hepzibah, half expecting her former lover to be abusing her, returned to her senses and quickly jumped back into the pilot’s seat. Through the viewing screen the group could see a massive space battle going on between the Quel’toth and more conventional metal ships. The Mephistoid quickly flew them a safe distance from the battle, with a skill that almost rivalled Corsair’s; it was evident she’d learned a lot from the human over the past several decades.

Not until it was assured they were shielded from the battle behind Earth’s moon did she reply to Corsair.

“This is Hrrar’s ship. He left…”

“He was using his pheromones on you,” said Corsair, it wasn’t a question or even an accusation; it was simply a statement of fact.

It was clear Hrrar had wounded her pride, there was a moment of silence before she replied, “Yes, but I politely told him I was no man’s tool and afterrr much apologising he left me this ship as a gift,” she grinned maliciously, “I trracked the Starjammer’s signal using the my emergency code, turrns out this was where we were headed anyway. As soon as I arrived I tried to contact you and Waldo filled me in. That stupid computer couldn’t even get close enough to ‘porrt you, so I showed him how it’s done.”

“You saved us all Hepz, thanks,” said Ch’od.

“Yeah…thank you Hepzibah…I…” started Corsair.

“Captain, we really need to get Z’Cann some medical attention,” Raza interrupted. The Skrull was hanging off the cyborg weakly and looked a very pale shade of green; her blood was flowing freely through Raza’s fingers as he tried to stem the flow.

Corsair snapped back to captain mode, “Hepzibah, do you have medical supplies on this ship?”

“Nothing for anything that serious, I’ll have to get herrr to bug brain on the Starrrjammerr,” this was easier said than done as, according to the ship’s sensors, the Starjammer was on the other side of the battlezone.

“Everyone hold onto something, we’rrrre going in,”

With an audible whoosh the Beautiful Hepzibah launched forward towards the immense space battle. Of course they could simply go around the war zone, but this was much more fun.

“Oh Jesus, look out!” yelled Scott as a small shuttle crossed their path; Hepzibah dodged it easily.

“Relax little Summerrrs, what arre you doing here anyway?” asked Hepzibah

“Long story,” replied Scott dryly.

“Long storrries are borrring, I preferrr doing THIS!” The Mephistoid took the ship into a sudden nosedive, slipping between two ships like threading a needle and blew a sizeable chunk out of a frigate.

“Relax, theirrr Dragoon’s fleet,” said Hepzibah before Corsair could even reprimand her.

Christopher turned to Fallout, “Why is Dragoon attacking the Quel’toth?”

“I…I don’t know,” he replied honestly, “Dragoon sensed a power and dragged the fleet after it. He’s completely insane.”

“Well insane or not he’s doing the galaxy a big favour by taking out the Quel’toth and getting his own army destroyed in the process,” stated Corsair grimly, as the ship lurched suddenly to port.

“I sssee Waldo,” stated Cho’od, leaning over a console, “fifteen degrees sstarboard,”

As suddenly as the ship jerked to port it jerked to starboard and the Starjammer came into view. Despite the ship’s reputation for being one of the fastest in the galaxy the two Quel’toth ships on its tail were giving it a run for its money. Waldo was doing his best to avoid the alien’s strange blaster fire, but the ship was still sustaining damage.

“My daughter’s on that ship! Do something!” shouted the massive Piotr; he still held Kitty’s dead body in his arms.

“Stupid pushy men,” muttered the cat woman as she fired multiple quantum missiles at the twin enemy ships.

Apparently the Quel’toth were too occupied with the Starjammer to detect the missiles in time; all of them found their mark, exploding in spectacular fashion over the planet Earth. One enemy ship was blown to pieces by the quantum energy unleashed by the missiles but the second remained in one piece. Thankfully its systems appeared to be shut down as it listed lifelessly into earth’s atmosphere. Hopefully it would burn up in the planet’s atmosphere.

Both the Starjammer and Hepzibah’s travelled to relative safety behind Earth’s moon before the crew teleported onto the more familiar ship for medical attention.

The Blood Pride, Dasagroth’s chamber

It was incomprehensible; the mighty god-king Dragoon was losing the battle. With each strike the mighty black creature landed on him, he felt more of his strength drain away. Slowly he was slipping back to the pathetic mortal he had once been, and he would fight with the fury of a thousand souls to stop that from happening.

Most of his savage armour had been ripped from his body during the battle, leaving his upper body fully exposed to the monster’s life draining touch. With a ferocious cry of rage he charged the Dasagroth, leaping at its massive body.

As he tore into the black flesh of the creature with his bare hands he felt his life-force rapidly draining away, but he soldiered on, trying to reach the source of sheer power buried deep within the monster. Fine black tendrils were penetrating his flesh, pushing between his very cells, infecting him, but still he fought on.

Finally, when he thought he couldn’t fight on any longer he reached his prize; deep within the Dasagroth’s body was an intense white light, radiating a power so strong he could feel his flesh start to burn.

It was a gateway to a source of amazing power, a power older than time itself. Without hesitation he reached within the light and felt the power flood into him. In five hundred years of stealing strength from other people he’d never felt a thousandth of the power he was feeling now; it was raw, primal and the flow wasn’t slowing down.

Every cell of his body was supercharged with energy, so much so that he was radiating an intense light which burned away the flesh of the Dasagroth around him. Quickly he realised that the power was too much, even for a god, it was burning him up from the inside and if he didn’t release it soon it would destroy him.

The energy was reaching breaking point now, the burning white light shone intensely from his eyes and mouth as he prepared to let the power forth and hopefully destroy the Dasagroth in the process. Nothing prepared him for what came next.

A final, incredible surge or energy flowed through the gateway and into his body, pushing it beyond what it could handle. The explosion was immense, encompassing not only the Dasagroth’s chamber, or even the command ship, but the entire battlefield.

Every ship, Quel’toth and Dragoon’s fleet, were destroyed by a devastating explosion of pure white energy.

The Baxter Building, New York

“Reed, what’s going on?” asked a concerned Susan Richards, AKA the Invisible Woman.

All around Reed’s lab, various gadgets and devices were going crazy; sounding alarms, flashing lights and printing baffling reports.

Reed Richards, Mister Fantastic, urgently grabbed a printout from the other side of the room and read it. His brow furrowed in concern as he looked to his wife.

“My satellites have detected a massive surge on energy in space, rivalling the power cosmic,”

“Galactus?” asked Sue

“I don’t think so…”

“Reed, Suze, you might wanna come check this out!” shouted Ben from the balcony.

The husband and wife rushed outside to see what all the fuss was about and stopped dead in their tracks; the night was lit as bright as day by an intense white halo of energy in the night sky, which rapidly dispersed.

The Moon

Uatu, the Watcher, had observed the alien battle from the moment it began. It was his duty, to watch and record anything that effected the Earth, as so he looked on as the epic battle drew ever closer to the opal planet.

With his advanced senses he could detect something otherworldly about the sleek crystalline ships; a strange and powerful energy he had never felt before.

Despite his advanced sight, he did not flinch as the massive explosion of energy engulfed both fleets. Instead he gazed deep within the heart of the bright, burning supernova of energy and caught a glimpse of something that shook him to the core; a gigantic crystalline entity which radiated pure malevolence.

As quickly as it was there it was gone, the doorway to this creature’s world shut, but Uatu shuddered in fear. For a brief second, the creature had looked upon him with pure malice. He was sure dark times were ahead.

Outside time and space

Axel Asher looked upon the two slumbering brothers in awe. Of course he knew they didn’t actually look like two gigantic humanoid beings, it was just his subconscious’ way of coping with viewing two multiverses from outside time and space, but he still always saw them that way anyway.

He often enjoyed stepping away from his duties as the Access and looking down upon all of creation; his dad had his old fishing hole for “quiet time”, and he had the place outside time and space.

Here and there light sparkled like little pink stars. In fact they were panoptichron’s; multidimensional viewing stations built by some long forgotten alien race. One light shone more intensely than the rest though, and Axel teleported closer to investigate.

What he found was a massive tear in reality to a dimension of primal white energy. Through the tear he saw a gigantic cluster of glistening black crystals, as big as a sun and radiating just as much power.

“Oh god no, it’s too soon, the omniverse isn’t…arrrggghh!”

A blast of crackling white energy struck the young man, sending him hurtling through realities, possibly dead.

Hours later, above Earth

The Starjammers and their companions had watched in awe as both the Quel’toth and Dragoon’s fleet were destroyed in a spectacular fashion by the immense explosion. The energy wave released by the detonation briefly sent the systems on the Starjammer and Hepzibah’s ship haywire, but Ch’od quickly resolved any problems.

With Sikorsky’s aid Z’Cann’s wound was patched up, along with all the other minor injuries the group had received. Scott had suffered the most at the hands of the Quel’toth and although he would be forever scarred from the alien’s tests, his body would heal.

Peter had placed Kitty’s body in stasis until the remaining X-clones could decide how best to lay her to rest. He now bounced the infant Yana on his gargantuan knee, she seemed oblivious to all the death and trauma that had taken place in her life over the past few weeks.

“I want to thank you Kurt, for keeping my child safe. She’s all I have left now,” said Peter.

The blue furred mutant laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “No mein fruend, you still have me, and Scott. We’re all family,”

Fallout stood off to the side, he hadn’t spoken a word since arriving on the Starjammer. The guilt of causing Kitty’s death would likely haunt him for the rest of his life. It was evident to Corsair that the young Australian was a good kid who had just got mixed in with the wrong kind of people.

“What’s your real name kid?” asked Corsair.

“It…its Sebastian, Seb Millar,” replied the mutant, “are you going to lock me up? I mean, it’s my fault that girl died.”

Christopher glanced at Piotr on the other side of the bridge, it was best if the giant man didn’t know Fallout’s role in Kitty’s death. He spoke softly, “What happened to Kitty was a tragic accident; I understand that you were only trying to help.”

“When she died, she looked at me, right at me, and I knew she was thinking I killed her,”

“The guilt will fade Seb, I promise you. Maybe you should try and do some good, helping people might help ease your burden. There’s a place on the Starjammer if you’d like it.”

“I appreciate the offer Corsair, you’re an amazingly good person to make it, but I have to say no. All I want to do is go home, to Earth…although I have nowhere to go.”

“What about your parents?” asked Chris.

“They’re both dead, radiation poisoning…oh good I should just go to the farthest reaches of space where I can’t hurt anyone,” from the sound of his voice the younger man was crying inside his helmet.

“I think I know some people on Earth that can help you, how do you feel about living in the U.S.?”

“I’m fine with it I guess…”

“Good, I’ll fill you in shortly.”

“The Beautiful Hepzibah…do I have to call it that?...isss prepped and ready for travel,” said Ch’od as he entered the bridge.

“Thank you so much for the gift of the ship Hepzibah, it’s so generous,” said Scott.

All he got was sulky grumble in reply; Corsair elbowed her in the ribs, “What she means is you’re more than welcome. Are you sure you can’t stay longer, it’s not every day I find out I have a long lost son,”

Scott rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, the inner conflict evident on his face.

“I’m not your son Corsair, he’s down there on Earth with his own life, a life that you’re part of,” he paced the room uncomfortably, “We can’t be here; we can go to Earth. It…it reminds us too much of what we don’t have. We need…I need to get as far away from Earth, and as far away from you, as I can. I’m sorry.”

“I understand, but no matter what you say, you’re still my son and I’ll always be here if you need me,”

“Thank you, thank you for everything Corsair,” the younger man reached out for a handshake, but Corsair wrapped his arms around him in a warm embrace. Only Hepzibah noticed the tears welling in Scott’s eyes.

As he pulled away from the embrace, the young clone asked, “Can you please ask you’re A.I. to ‘port us to our ship, we’re ready to go?”

“Of course Scott. Waldo, do it,”

“Initiating transfer, mind your knees and elbows…bzzt…error 226,” said the erratic computer.

Solemnly, they each said their goodbyes, promising to keep in touch and report if they encountered any trouble. The clones also asked that they don’t tell anyone on Earth of their existence, to which the Starjammers agreed. And then, in a flash of golden light they were gone, teleported to their own new ship.

Corsair watched through the viewing screen as their ship accelerated away into hyperspace. He was sad to see them go, especially Scott. Despite the hardships of the past few weeks, he seemed somehow happier than the man he was cloned from.

“Good bye son,”

Hepzibah placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, he wasn’t sure if their relationship would ever be the same again, but he hoped so. The problem was, no matter how sure he was that it was Hrrar’s pheromones that made her leave, there would always be the small doubt that she went to him of her own free will.

“So what do we do now captain?” asked Raza.

Corsair smiled when he noticed the Cyborg was holding Z’Cann’s hand but said nothing of it, instead he replied, “Well first I’d like to go spend some time with my family, I’ve definitely been away from them for too long. And we need to drop Fallout off at Xavier’s anyway.

“It would be good to see Charles again,” said Z’Cann, “but what about after that, will the Starjammers go back to ferrying Kree refugees?”

“I don’t know Z’Cann, I feel like we’ve been handed a new purpose. With the Kree, Skrull and Shi’ar galaxies all in a shambles everybody’s vying for power in the universe, each one trying to gain more territory and resources before the others. Dragoon and the Quel’toth were just the first in what’s going to be a long line of would be dominators who want to call the Milky Way their own, and that’s why we need to be here. I’m not going let this galaxy become a part of another corrupted empire,”

“What are you proposing?” asked Raza.

“We patrol the galaxy, making alliances, so that when the next Dragoon or Sen’khan shows up we’re ready to send them packing,”

“Even the Birrrdies?” fire burned in Hepzibah’s eyes as it always did when she spoke of the Shi’ar.

“Yes even the Shi’ar, no-one’s laying a claim to this galaxy,”

“Sticking it to the Birrrdies, I like that,” grinned Hepzibah.

“Starjammers; Protectors of the Galaxy,” joked Ch’od with false bravado.

“It truly is a noble cause captain,” said Raza.

“And you’ll be much closer to your family,” smiled Z’Cann, tapping her temple, “I knew you had an ulterior motive.”

“Pickles…bzzt…error 226!” Waldo chipped in.

Corsair couldn’t help but smile, he was never happier than when his life had purpose, and protecting his family was the greatest purpose a man’s life could have. Although, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the universe had dark times ahead.

In orbit above Standing Still, Shi’ar Galaxy

General F’Dor looked down upon the capital of the Clench Union with disdain. For some unfathomable reason Empress Lilandra allowed this world of dissidents, and many others, to exist.

In D’Ken’s day anyone who fled the Shi’ar’s empire would be hunted down and thrown in prison, or executed. No one was allowed to insult the noble sacrifice Sharra and K’ythri made when they married, thus giving rise to the Shi’ar’s concept of “marrying” worlds. If D’Ken had found a world full of dissidents such as this, he wouldn’t have thought twice about reducing it to a charred memory.

What’s more, the Clench had harboured known criminals, the Starjammers. Above anything else this was unforgivable to F’Dor.

Thankfully, some unknown crisis had called away the majority of the Clench’s fleet, leaving them virtually undefended. His Apocalypse class Destroyer had easily picked off the remaining defences.

“Prime the weapons for a full scale assault on the planet’s surface,” he ordered his second in command, a runt of a man named D’Nell.

“Sir, we’re receiving a transmission,” said D’Nell.

“I don’t want to hear anything the Clench has to say,” replied the General.

“It’s not coming from the Clench sir; it’s coming from deep space. The transmission code is Crimson.”

F’Dor whirled around suddenly; as if that was the last thing he was expecting to hear.

“Put it up on screen,”

A familiar Shi’ar face appeared on the large viewing screen; Davan Shakari.

“Shakari! You’re supposed to be dead!” exclaimed F’Dor.

“You and everyone else in the Empire think that old friend, and I like it that way,” replied Shakari, the man better known on Earth as Erik the Red.

“What do you want from me Sharaki?”

“Many thing F’Dor, many things. At the moment you’re classed as a rogue general by the empire, a criminal, but open fire upon that planet, and break a treaty the Empress has so diligently enforced, and you’ll be branded an outright traitor. The full weight of the empire come shall down upon you,”

“And you’re Lilandra’s spokesperson now?”

“Oh no no, you misunderstand me,” replied Shakari greasily, “I have much better uses for you that would be best achieved without the entire empire hunting you. Leave Standing Still be and come meet me at the co-ordinates I’m transmitting you now, we have much to discuss.”

“Such as?”

“Such as bringing an end to Lilandra’s rule and returning to the glory days of the empire,”

F’Dor smiled wickedly, “So be it, Davan, it’s a deal.”

“Excellent, I look forward to a long and fulfilling partnership,”

F’Dor laughed quietly to himself, fate had handed him the resources to bring down the empress and to finally destroy the Starjammers. It was a good day indeed.