The seas of Singapore were no stranger to piracy. Since the end of the Cold War, the size of navies have decreased, making it easier for pirates to operate. Particularly close to areas of political unrest or a lack of development.

But the crew of the USS Harry Truman had never seen piracy of this sort before.

A large ship emerged from beneath the waves, crashing onto the surface of the water. It was unlike anything from the surface world, with strange runes marked on the sides of the vessel. It resembled coral and shells, as if it were a part of the sea itself. And on the deck of the ship stood a large group of men, all of them armed with bizarre weapons. Even stranger than that was their blue skin and some sort of breathing apparatus they wore over their mouths and noses.

The blue-skinned Atlanteans jumped from the deck of their ships, boarding a trade vessel. They mercilessly went about their task, using bladed weapons to dismember the crew. The soldiers onboard bravely tried to fight back, but despite their superior weaponry, the savagery and strength of the Atlanteans was too much for them to keep up with. A few of the survivors were brought forward, forced down to their knees.

The Atlanteans parted, making a path for the largest among them. He wore gold armor with a blue helm, darker than his skin tone. In his hands, he held a three-pronged sword. He came to one of them and stared down, grimacing.

“Who captains this vessel?”

“What?” asked the prisoner. “I don’t know wha—”

The armored Atlantean bellowed a war cry as he raised his blade and shoved it down through the top of the prisoner’s head. He withdrew it and stepped to the next prisoner.

“Who captains this vessel?”

“Y-you do!” said the prisoner.

The Atlantean smiled and motioned for his soldier to release the prisoner. “Now rise, human.”

The prisoner cautiously got to his feet. But then the Atlantean warlord wrapped his fingers around the human’s throat. He raised the human up into the air, holding him at arm’s length. A flick of his wrist snapped the prisoner’s neck.

The Atlantean turned to his crew and raised his three-pronged sword towards the heavens and bellowed another war cry. They raised their weapons as well, and began chanting.

“A-TTU-MA! A-TTU-MA! A-TTU-MA! A-TTU-MA!”

THE SEVEN SEAS

Part I

By Hunter Lambright and Dino Pollard

The Infiltrator

The stealth vessel cut through the waters of the Pacific Ocean, moving at a cruising speed. Developed by SHIELD, the Infiltrator was equipped with a unique engine that could open a small hole in time and space, allowing the Infiltrator to travel virtually anywhere on the planet.

Suzi Endo stood on the ship’s deck overlooking the horizon. She wore her Cybermancer armor, despite that the team had some downtime at the moment. Her scanners were active, and picked up a familiar bio-signature approaching. One whose metabolism moved at three times the rate of peak-human condition.

His name was Delroy Garrett, the latest to adopt the moniker of the 3-D Man. Delroy leaned against the railing beside her. Like her, he was dressed in uniform, although the red and green mask was down, hanging loosely from his collar. He stared at Suzi for a few moments, seeing if that would get her attention. It didn’t. So instead, he sighed and just decided to come out with it.

“I’m not comfortable with the last job.”

“We stopped the assassination of a United States Senator, destroyed a superhuman terrorist cell, saved untold numbers of lives, and in the process we prevented the Superhuman Registration Act from gaining any more traction in Congress,” said Suzi. “I don’t see a problem.”

“You’re forgetting how we did all that,” said Delroy. “Deathlok mutilated his opponent, War Machine blew his up, Century decapitated his, and you stabbed ours. There’s also the little matter of Bridge torturing Roekel.”

“Your conscience bothering you, Delroy?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

Suzi turned to him as the visor on her armor rose up to reveal her brown eyes. They conveyed sympathy towards his concerns and she smiled at him. “Then you know what you should do?”

“What’s that?” asked Delroy.

Her smile transformed instantly into a scowl. “Go back to the Avengers.”

Delroy was taken aback by her comment. “S’cuse me?”

“You heard me, go back to the Avengers,” said Suzi. “You knew the stakes when you joined this group—by any means necessary. That’s our creed.”

“I didn’t think we were gonna be actin’ like the same people we’re trying to protect the world from.”

“You know what the Avengers would have done?” asked Suzi. “Just lock up the Imperfects in a revolving-door prison like the Vault. That’s all they ever do. How many people has the Red Skull killed? Or the Masters of Evil? Or any number of threats the Avengers and the Fantastic Four and all the other moralizing heroes out there continue to give a free pass?”

“So you’re tellin’ me the ends justify the means?” asked Delroy.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Yeah well, an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind,” said Delroy.

“Gandhi also actively recruited for the British in World War I, so spare me the quotes. The people we’re going up against aren’t going to just lay down quietly if we ask them to,” said Suzi. “We have to fight fire with fire. If you’re not ready to do that, then you’re probably in the wrong place.”

Suzi received a signal coming in through her armor. Delroy received the same one, communicated through a small device in his belt buckle. Suzi’s visor lowered into place.

“Bridge wants us in the briefing room. That is, if you’re ready to man up to the choice you made by coming here.”

She walked away from him and Delroy pulled his mask on. “I’m startin’ to wonder if this job is worth the trouble…”

The gathered Force Works team stood before a monitor array. Each one displayed a broadcast reporting on acts of piracy in different parts of the world. The Strait of Malacca, Singapore, the Horn of Africa, the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean.

“They struck suddenly and relentlessly over the past few days,” said Bridge. “Atlantean vessels, rising up from beneath the ocean, and taking over trade and military ships. They kill all aboard and then sink the ships.”

“Some attack from Atlantis?” asked War Machine, his faceplate raised to reveal his face. “Y’ask me, we should go bang down Namor’s door. Sounds like the kinda shit he’d try pullin’.”

“He’s already released a statement,” said Deathlok, who stood near the control array for the monitors. He switched on one of the monitors and it showed Namor McKenzie, the Sub-Mariner, dressed in regal Atlantean garb as he addressed a United Nations delegation. Deathlok made sure to mute all other broadcasts so Namor’s speech could be heard.

“Atlantis firmly denies any connection with these acts of piracy. These are the acts of rogues who have been banished from my kingdom. The Atlantean military is looking into this situation and I promise that we shall punish the offenders.”

Deathlok muted the feed. “That answer your question, Jacobs?”

“Still don’t trust it,” said War Machine. “Fish-boy’s trouble, we’d probably be better off killin’ him. Just to be safe.”

“And in the process, risk all-out war with Atlantis,” said the Black Knight. He stood in full costume, his helmet as usual concealing his face. These days, it seemed as if he never removed it. “Namor’s not the problem, whoever’s doing this is.”

“I’ve got the answer to that, too,” said Deathlok. “This feed is being broadcast live at the moment. I’m bringing it up on all displays.”

Each of the displays changed to an image of a news reporter from CNN. “We’ve just received footage from the Atlantean claiming responsibility for these attacks. But I must warn our younger viewers—this may be disturbing.”

The image shifted. The Atlantean warlord stood in his warrior’s garb, holding his sword as if it were a trident. He sat in what appeared to be the commander’s chair of a military ship. Behind him stood a collection of his warriors, who remained still and silent.

“Surface-dwellers, I am Attuma. I have been exiled from my lands by the sniveling prince who plays at being king. Rather than eviscerate this child as my destiny proclaims, I have decided on another course of action—punishment. You surface-dwellers have used and abused our beautiful oceans for far too long, making them your means of transportation for your insignificant trade. Your point of battle for your insipid military campaigns.

“I have claimed these waterways in my name. If you wish to traverse them, you must seek out my favor first. Any who foolishly attempt to violate the law I have set forth shall meet the end of my blade.

“Attuma has spoken.”

The video concluded with the warriors behind him chanting his name again: “A-TTU-MA! A-TTU-MA! A-TTU-MA!”

Deathlok cut the feed and Bridge addressed his team. “Anyone notice anything about that ship?”

“It wasn’t Atlantean,” said the Black Widow. “That was a human ship.”

“We’ve managed to discover that the USS Harry Truman aircraft carrier hasn’t reported in,” said Deathlok. “It was last seen in some of the areas Attuma has laid claim to.”

“If Attuma possesses/has/owns an aircraft carrier and his men know how to use those planes, that could pose a grave danger/threat/crisis,” said Century.

 “The Infiltrator was able to get a lock on it before the GPS was disabled,” said Bridge. “It’s big, so it couldn’t have gotten far. We’re setting the Infiltrator’s course for the last-known coordinates. Once we get there, I want the heavy hitters to attack the surface—that’s Truman, Grey, Jacobs and Whitman.”

A few glances were exchanged amongst the team members at the mention of the Black Knight’s name. But Dane remained unsurprised. No one decided it was necessary to press the issue and instead allowed Bridge to continue with his strategy. “Century will take Endo, Garrett and Belova into the heart of the carrier to find Attuma and take him out.”

The Infiltrator sped up, cutting through the waters. The generators started up, tapping into an extra-dimensional energy source. A swirl of dark energy appeared in the path of the ship, and it slowly passed through, vanishing completely from the Pacific.

A similar mass of energy opened up near the Horn of Africa. The Infiltrator traveled through it, the energy dissipating once the ship had passed. Before the ship was the massive USS Harry Truman aircraft carrier, still relatively close to its last GPS heading.

The Black Knight, X-Man, War Machine and Deathlok assembled on the Infiltrator’s deck. Dane reached a hand for the amulet around his neck and uttered the word “Avalon.” He was surrounded instantly by a bright light that, when dissipated, showcased him in his full armor, complete with Sword of Light and Shield of Night. Standing behind him was Strider, his flying horse. The Black Knight climbed aboard his steed and took to the air first.

War Machine activated his own thrusters as X-Man used his telekinetic powers to heft both himself and Deathlok into the air. The four men flew towards the USS Truman and War Machine unleashed the opening salvo by firing several rockets from the shoulder-mounted launcher at the Atlantean pirates who stood on the deck. He followed those with rounds of fire from the Gatling gun housed on his other shoulder.

X-Man released the tether on Deathlok, who as he fell, opened his mouth wide to unleash a massive laser blast. He held out his arms, rockets firing from the housings on his forearms. Deathlok shifted his body as he drew closer, landing feet-first into an Atlantean. He drew the shotgun from its holster on his back and spun on his heel just in time to blow the head off an Atlantean who tried to ambush him from behind.

The X-Man hovered just barely above the deck of the ship and found himself quickly surrounded by Atlanteans. They all charged towards him, but their blades froze before they could bring them down on his body. The X-Man’s left eye crackled with psionic energy and he smiled.

Each of the Atlanteans was hoisted up in the air. X-Man stared up at them and crossed his extended arms across each other. He quickly separated them, and as he made that motion, the Atlanteans were each torn in half.

The Black Knight swooped down on Strider, having some difficulty controlling the horse at first. But it eventually followed his orders and as he flew towards the ground, he slashed through Atlantean after Atlantean.

War Machine continued to provide air cover and the Black Knight abandoned Strider. The horse flew off into the sky and the Black Knight deflected a strike from an Atlantean blade. He forced the Atlantean attacker back before cutting open his throat. Another strike was blocked by his kite shield, and the Black Knight slammed the shield into the Atlantean, forcing him back. Dane then brought the shield up, the pointed end striking the Atlantean’s jaw. Wasn’t enough to kill him, but it did disable his water supply. The Atlantean collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath and the Black Knight simply ignored him and continued on his assault.

A whirlwind of energy appeared beneath the deck of the USS Truman. Century stood with the Black Widow, Cybermancer and the 3-D Man in the wake of Parallax’s teleportation wave.

“We’ve got hostiles in pretty much every direction,” said Cybermancer.

“You know where this command room’s supposed to be?” asked the 3-D Man.

Cybermancer nodded. “Weren’t you paying attention during the briefing?”

“I was, just wanted to make sure you knew where you were going so you’d be able to catch up later,” said the 3-D Man. He broke off into a sprint, running at his top speed and moving through the annals of the ship.

Cybermancer called after him through the communicator in her armor. “Are you out of your mind, Garrett? You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Let him,” said the Black Widow. She pulled on her goggles, her own scanners working in a similar fashion to Cybermancer’s. “I tire of his moralizing.”

“Whatever you think of him as a person, he’s a valuable addition to this team,” said Cybermancer. “At least with him, none of us are worried about being killed in our sleep.”

“I would never do that,” said the Black Widow and added with a smirk, “too easy.”

“Ladies, if you would please refrain/abstain/hold back from fighting amongst yourselves, we have work to do,” said Century. “We must reach the 3-D Man, this is a mission for four, not for three.”

“I’ve already locked onto his signal,” said Cybermancer, flying ahead. “Let’s move.”

As she flew through the corridors, the Black Widow and Century followed close behind. Most of Attuma’s forces were on-deck, battling their teammates, which left them a clear path to their target. One thing worried Cybermancer, however—the files indicated Attuma was a warrior. Not one to stand on the sidelines. So why was he doing so now?

When they reached the center command, Cybermancer discovered the answer to her own question. The 3-D Man lay on the ground with Attuma’s foot pinning him there. And raised above the 3-D Man’s head was Attuma’s three-pronged sword. Upon the entrance of the 3-D Man’s teammates, Attuma looked at them with a grin.

“It seems you get a stay of execution,” he said. “However brief it may be.”