Rex Caeli, Alpha Centauri
“That was almost too easy.”
Cynosure largely ignored the Guardian’s assessment. His mind was focused on the future of their mission. It wasn’t in his nature to be overly retrospective. Gorani had seen this in him; it made him the perfect leader. Cynosure had always been secure with his decisions because he had been forced to earn his place. His planet was archaic and tribal in their traditions despite the advanced technology and cultures they had absorbed into their own. There had been a time when his planet had thrived, and been a hub of the galaxy but those days were gone. Although not crippled, Bryldn had lost its once considerable power. It was a power that had been held by the Shi’ar since long before his own birth. Humans wouldn’t tremble at Bryldn’s name as they once would have.
To claim disgust at his homeworld’s shortcomings would be an understatement. Cynosure had murdered to be where he now stood. Still, there was a strong sense of morality in the man that could not be denied. He would serve his world for the greater good and he had done what was necessary to accomplish that – he could not within reasoning injure those who were trying to succeed likewise. Cynosure had little tolerance of the human mutant known as Major Victory, and his time spent with the man had proven his immediate assertions correct. Major Victory was a man who spoke at length but said nothing of meaning, with an erratic leadership style and a complete lack of focus. There had been times when Cynosure had wondered about the man’s grip on reality.
Dull pupil-less eyes focused on the shield that had an unfamiliar logo. It was recognisable as the shield that had been confiscated by King Dynas but it’s relevance to Major Victory had no impact on the man. It was a game of survival and there were no longer any teams to hide behind, only the fittest would survive. Still, Cynosure found no honour in making his competitor and easy target for anyone they may face. It would better to allow his one-mindedness to prove his downfall. Cynosure would certainly need no help in that. Major Victory thought like a man and not like a hero, it was one of his most disproportionate misgivings. The Major stepped back as the purple alien acted.
Cynosure smashed his fists into the glass casing that had come to hold the shield, as well as his own weapons. Throwing the shield as if it were a discus, Major Victory was forced to stop the oncoming defence before it collided with his face. Readjusting the American flag shield, all that remained of his future timeline’s Captain America, to his belt the mutant walked forward. His pale skin long hidden beneath the costume that had been designed to protect his life on a treacherous journey through space but was now incapable of removal. He looked every bit as alien as those who now surrounded him. His eyebrows furrowed as he eyed the stoic leader across from him.
“I’m going to believe that action was accidental.”
Cynosure turned up his nose in the now common haughty manner the Major had grown accustomed to. “Believe as you wish, human.”
“Thanks for the sincere concern, Cyno,” mocked the time-displaced mutant. “I didn’t know you had such compassion in you.”
Cynosure hissed in disapproval of the name. His actions were very like that of any man, more typically of some pompous frat boy, but there was also an element of the animalistic. Movements were quick and undetectable until he had chosen to act, he was a true warrior but his dedication seemed every bit displaced amongst the Luminals as Major Victory was in the current time stream. It had been a brief witness of their true abilities but the Luminals had seemed to be more focused on their roles as a celebrity than in the actual heroism of their actions. Cynosure was the face of a brand, a brand that had been threatened by Vance Astro and the other Guardians of the Galaxy. Gorani had seen potential but he was a shrewd businessman. Both teams now stood as pawns on the battlefield but only Gorani would prove to be entirely successful.
Dynas seemed to have abandoned the castle he had so shortly before reclaimed. His castle court was empty, and there were no obvious sounds to be heard from inside the echoic walls that built around them. Major Victory was about to make an exit when Cynosure undercut him, but with a roll of his eyes he willingly followed. Doors were drawn open with a quick tug but they were prepared for an assault that never followed. Major Victory noted the sudden desolation of the building – it was every bit as harsh and cold as its ruler, and of the land that Alpha Centauri had become. Alpha Centauri was a beacon of civilisation in the future he had come from. It was a strange and uncomfortable contrast.
Moving as quickly and silently as spectres, they were not unnoticed. Although the castle of Rex Caeli held few guards – it was not entirely deserted. Two turned a corner and came face to face with the former prisoners.
Major Victory was the first to react as Cynosure stood back. Hurling forward the discus shield the guard was thrown into the wall he had just turned. It was a quick assault but the Centaurian was not completely disabled in the attack. Launching back with the use of a historic spear, the alien guardsman missed on two consecutive occasions before Major Victory delivered the roundhouse kick to his head. Again the guard stumbled, but he was more determined than those who had been met on the bridge of the moat. Major Victory grinned. He had always enjoyed a challenge and today was no exception. It was probably the distraction it offered from what lay ahead. His eyes followed the second guard as flew past in a blue haze. There was no doubt Cynosure was a capable combatant.
Ending the battle that had been such a futile effort, Major Victory crashed the shield into the guard for a second time. It was with a grunt that the Centaurian collapsed to the ground. His vitals were low but he was alive and incapacitated. It was this that mattered most to the man who had called himself an Avenger. Habits had a tendency to die hard when they had become ingrained in a man’s psyche. It was a bloodcurdling scream that forced him to turn his attention back to his temporary colleague. Cynosure’s long sword tore through the bone and sinew of his opponent but the worse was still to come as the fallen guard screamed his prayers to an unseen god. In one movement the long sword had been drawn from his chest and thrust into his neck. The guard’s head rolled across the floor where it fell but Cynosure seemed oblivious to his actions.
His cold gaze fell upon the Major. “It is time to go.”
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- MAJOR VICTORY
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- MANTIS
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- BETA RAY BILL
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- ROCKET RACCOON
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- DRAX THE DESTROYER
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- PERSEPHONE
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- CYNOSURE
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- BRIGHTSTORM
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- SUSPENSOR
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- IMPACT
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- DISCHARGE
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- GORANI
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- CRYSTAL
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- ISMENE
THE TIDE THAT LEFT AND NEVER CAME BACK
Part V
By Gavin McMahon
Regem Maris, Alpha Centauri
Beta Ray Bill quickly fell beneath the oncoming stampede. Brightstorm, however, continued to hold his ground. Most of the anger was focused towards the gelatinous alien who had killed their master but his mind didn’t care much for what they now felt. His enhanced senses could feel the chill that now pulsed off the slowly dying body of Rocket Racoon. Arka’s poison was taking effect but it was slow to do so and that would prove to be a saving grace. Bill tossed the Mari who had climbed upon him into the air with ease as he thrust Stormbreaker into the rushing beauties. Each and every one of the gathered soldiers was as immaculately perfect as the man who had ruled over them. Still, it was the role of Beta Ray Bill to destroy everyone who threatened a planet’s survival. Brightstorm filled another role, although he was capable of battling it was not in his nature.
Igrinar, the planet that had raised him, was not his homeworld. It was however the only home he had known. Earthlings abandoned their children to the care of others of their species but there was no such tolerance on his planet. Brightstorm had been thrown out into the cosmos and founded near death by the monks of Igrinar. He had happily and contently been raised in their beliefs but he had also become one of their own. His abilities although innate were no genetic. His abilities stemmed from his teachings in the monastic order of Igrinar. There was more to his powers than the production of photonic globules. It was the active release of positive energy that allowed him to defend himself but there was a darker side to his abilities – it allowed him to manipulate the negative aspects of his life. Brightstorm found no need to embrace that darkness. He had only done so once and his grief persisted. His fingers wrapped around the furred creature’s neck. “You’re friend will not make it if we cannot remove ourselves from this now. We can only hope that he survives and allow our colleagues to finish what we have started.”
“I have never run from a battle! I cannot start doing so now.”
It was not an unexpected answer. Equine features were drawn back in a blaze of adrenaline-fuelled glory that Brightstorm had not witnessed on the Korbinite’s features before now. A man without purpose was not man at all. He had heard similar statements from the pacifists that had raised him before although his current associations would have been met with much disapproval. Brightstorm had attempted to remain a man of honour and integrity but his teammates had often been quick to seek a brawl. It seemed to him that may be the only way to quickly resolve the danger now presented to the fallen anthropomorphic raccoon. Skeins of light danced from his fingertips and intertwined with the legs of the lucky few to make it past the might of Bill.
Quickly their shrieks filled the hall. Energy drew all of the health from their bodies and healed Brightstorm completely – it was a much more useful skill when he was actually injured but as they collapsed to the ground it had been clear its purpose had been served. It was difficult to fight back the oncoming forces when he was unable to abandon the dying Guardian but he had to work to the best of his ability. He was not particularly muscular but there was enough strength in his conviction to snap attacking limbs at a moment’s notice.
It was an exhaustive task but one that could not be avoided. One pure life was worth the hundreds that now lay as corpses at their feet. Bill panted heavily he dropped Stormbreaker to his side. Standing on the Alps dreaming of finding his place seemed like only yesterday and it was too much to ask for him to give that up now. Thor had saved his life while Korbin continued to burn and there had needed to be some reasoning behind his continued existence. Fate seemed to have played a cruel trick on him but still Beta Ray Bill fought on. His gaze fell upon that off his comrades. With the immediate menace now destroyed Brightstorm had returned to the care of Rocket Raccoon – his true concern.
“We have to retreat or Rocket will die.”
Bill looked into the skies. “It does not take two to save his life. I would be useless in trying to do so. I am much better suited to causing pain than healing it.”
“A hero would never leave a friend behind,” remarked the diplomatic monk. It was an underhanded statement but he was playing to the sensibilities of the man who stood in front of him.
The Korbinite raised his hammer. “No,” his voice was low like a whisper but there was something disengaged about it. “A hero would not leave five behind.” Rocket was one life that he could not help. His capabilities were not designed as medicinal. However, five of his colleagues still fought in the expanse of the Alpha Centaurian planet and he could assist them in any way he needed too. Major Victory, Mantis, Drax the Destroyer, Persephone and Bug were all able to defend and protect themselves as they had done so in the past but he needed to know they were safe. Bill could never live with him if he was to retreat and they died in the Centaurian desert. Following Stormbreaker into the air, Beta Ray Bill forced himself to ignore the disappointed gaze of the monk as he flew into the clear skies.
Brightstorm frantically pressed his lips to the intercom on his chest. “Gorani, you have the opportunity to end this foolishness and save a life.” It was a long shot to appeal to the compassion of the shrewd mogul but the alien monk was unable to save Rocket on his own. “The choice is entirely your own.”
Para Bellum, Alpha Centauri
Mantis’ concern grew. “You think this one can so easily abandon a planet to its own fate. You can be saved. All of you can be saved if we only try to fix this before it escalates any further.” War was no stranger to the young emerald woman. She had witnessed more than anyone could have imagined and survived to tell the tail. Wars between humans had tarnished the earliest years of her existence as a child attempting to find steady ground in Vietnam. However, it was the intergalactic battles she had witnessed as the Celestial Madonna that truly left their mark. Born not once but twice through war, Mantis had learned from the constant destruction around her.
The same could not be said for Ismene of the Opulentia as she stared dreamily from her perch on the uneven face of the rock. White cloth that shimmered like water was draped across the woman’s frail body. Her expression seemed to be lost amongst the warzone because she was more serene than anybody could have felt. As if waiting for their deaths, the Opulentia sat around her with folded knees. Each of them continued the soft humming of the next but Mantis was not deterred. She would not run as they expected her too, she cared not for her supposed destiny when the present needed her. Her hand reached out and grabbed the shoulders of the pale-skinned woman as the humming came to a stop and some of the Opulentia snapped to their feet.
“It is permissible,” hummed the Opulentia’s leader. “The Madonna wishes only to help in a war that must be won. Her character is noble but misguided. Do not become concerned in the affairs that do not involve you.”
Her mind was immediately reminded of Drax, who continued his approach at a steady pace. “This one and her colleagues are involved whether the Opulentia want it or not. It is too late to change what happened but you can survive. The future is fluid not solid, things can be changed for the greater good – surely you understand that.”
“The future is sacred and whole,” hissed an elderly man of the order as he glared towards her. He was feeble as were all of the psychics who now surrounded her. Each of them closed off from her mind as if they anticipated her. She could break all their defensive walls if she wanted to but the time had not come for that. Mantis allowed them their freewill because she respected their independence. The Celestial Madonna had no need to ask for entry into anywhere she wanted.
Mantis was quick to retort. “This future will kill you and everything you have ever known.”
“The die has been cast yet we still argue,” Ismene murmured softly as she dismounted the rock, fully turning her attention towards Mantis for the first time since she had arrived. “Nothing can change the course we have already allowed to happen. Momentum has been building for centuries until we have found ourselves at this point. This is not a recent danger earthling. Ideologies have always strained the Centaurian society.”
Mantis furrowed her brows as she folded her arms. It was an all-too human reaction to the lack of headway she was making with the natives. Ismene physically pushed passed the Vietnamese woman and came to a halt. Masking her eyes from the harshness of the sun with her hand, the beauty watched the clouds that flew around either side of her gaze. The Marita marched towards the usurper king, blissfully unaware that both parties would meet their deaths on the battlefield before the first of the suns set again. Her lips were pursed and she appeared all the more distant because of it. Ismene’s grey eyes watched forward but that did not silence her.
The Opulentia’s leader spoke. “You need to understand, earthling. Our destiny is not important. Only Alpha Centauri matters now. If our world is to have a future then only the death of those who rule can pave the path to a new beginning. Our seven lords must die.”
Before Mantis could reply, she was taken aback by the sound of whirring in the skies above her. Major Victory stood atop the shield that had protected him so far with the Luminals leader, Cynosure, held in his arms. Neither man looked pleased with the situation but both pretended to be elsewhere. Streams of ice blue psychokinetic energy trailed behind them as the blasted over the troops of King Dynas. Major Victory crashed into the ground, his landing left a lot to be desired, and both men were thrown forward like an earth child’s ragdoll. Cynosure spat the dirt and sand from his mouth indignantly.
Mantis was quick to ignore her rival. She alone had witnessed firsthand the treachery of the men under his jurisdiction. Discharge and Impulse, despite their current catatonic state, had attempted to murder her because of her power. Focusing all of her attention on her own leader, the green woman helped him to his feet as she questioned. “This one has been unsuccessful and a war will continue. Please, what do we do?”
Major Victory dropped his gaze and collected his shield. “We fight.”
Vero Regi, Alpha Centauri
“This is not where I imagined my life,” remarked the goddess absently. Persephone’s skin was as soft as silk and almost as bright as ice against the backdrop of grime, dirt, and darkness. Her beauty was otherworldly and provided the stark contrast between not only her environment and also her reluctant companion. Suspensor was more feline than woman, as much an attitude as in appearance. One moved like falling snow and the opposite like a predator with its sight on its prey. Persephone had little time or patience for the woman who trailed behind her. She was a woman from a world where she had been respected if not loved.
Rummaging through the wreckage of an alien shantytown was not what she had grown accustomed too. Still, they had an objective to complete whether they fully understood it or not. Asdís, the wife and reigning queen of Alpha Centauri, had told them of her husband’s deadliest secret. The Leviathan had been warned as the destroyer of world’s but its potential had yet to be measured. If they were successful then there would never be a comparison to record. Persephone and Suspensor needed to neutralise the Leviathan before it became a danger to not only Alpha Centauri, but the nearby planets also. Persephone had dreamed of heroism almost as much as she dreamed of freedom, this was her chance to go down in history as something more than the epitome of the victim.
Suspensor’s speech was emitted in a low consecutive hiss. Every syllable seemed to be laced with more venom and contempt than that which had come before. “I doubt this was the first choice for the Centaurians either, so deal with it.” Pale green tufts of hair marked the woman’s hardened features as she moved with catlike agility. She bore her teeth like an animal but remained upright in doing so. Cold, hard eyes watched into the darkness. Where most saw shadows, Suspensor saw shapes and curves. It was not a preternatural ability. Her race had never been disadvantaged in the darkness that overwhelmed their planet. Suspensor moved ahead of the goddess with ease.
“I understand their plight,” Persephone was amazed that even her sincerity sounded forced and hollow. Goddess of Spring was the perpetual victim, stolen in her innocence to become the captive bride of an ancient God and the Queen of Hades but those stories negated her pride to favour her naïveté. Persephone had never hidden who she was; her life had been a game of risks and chances. Freedom had been stripped from her at the tender age of fourteen and she had sought for it every day for the millennia since. If anyone of the parties were able to understand the hopelessness of being controlled, she assumed it would be her for none could possibly have been tormented as she was.
Guards marked them from ahead. Suspensor saw but failed to alert her comrade as the arrows shot through the darkness. Blood was drawn from Persephone’s exposed shoulder but there was no serious pain. It would take more than flint and wood to injure an Olympian. Suspensor flitted forward with an angered screech but Persephone held back. It was not her way to throw herself needlessly in the line of fire when she had the magical prowess to avoid it. “Demeter, lend me your creation.” Before the words had even left the Grecian Goddess’ tongue, her silent prayers were answered. The dirt at her feet bubbled as she watched the men rush towards her. Slowly, as if waking from a slumber long forced upon them, the golems of Centaurian came to life.
Smiling as they launched forward, the sorceress watched their own earth turn against them. As the several golems tore through the bones and flesh of the guards who threatened them, one slipped forward. His arrows were pointed but had little effect as she swatted them from her path with a bright green otherworldly energy. The guard drew his sword with a look of malevolence she had witnessed for much of her life. Persephone’s husband often looked at her with a similar contempt, his for eternity but also a burden as much as a beauty. The long sword swung towards her as she flinched backwards, muttering in the foreign language of her people. “Athena, lend me the Aegis.” Green energies formed around her arm and spread across her body as the sword bounced back. Her bosom now carried the golden armour of her cousin.
“I have seen much worse than anything you can offer, alien,” growled the pale sorceress. Her hands tore the sword from his grasp – it reminded her just how frail he truly was. No one could ever outsmart a god, who had seen everything since creation began. There was a common misconception that each pantheon focused only on the affairs of their own people, but a strategist would always look to those who threatened to oppose them and the pantheons of antiquity had operated in a similar manner. She had been seventeen years old when she was forcibly removed from Earth, and Persephone had witnessed more than enough in her formative years to prove useful.
She did not kill him. It was not her way. Instead, Persephone forced him onto the ground as he yelped in fear. “Morpheus, have your gentle way,” sighed the goddess before she refocused her attention on the remaining assailant. Her previous opponent slipped into unconsciousness under a hue of green, the goddess wasn’t to know that death would come swiftly for them all.
Dust and rubble imploded around them as Suspensor screamed into the murky darkness.
Para Bellum, Alpha Centauri
Stormbreaker thundered into the earth forcing a crater around his controller, the mighty Beta Ray Bill. His entrance was only matched by the ferocity that was etched across his face. He had spent much of his time in the company of these so-called intergalactic heroes but one disappointment had followed another as he played the role of the wilting wallflower. Beta Ray Bill was the last of his race – he was all that stood between life and total extinction. His emotions, which he considered an all-too human trait, had gotten the better of him and made him as weak as those he had once served. His days on earth would soon be nothing more than a distant memory and his legacy would be built upon the actions of what he now accomplished and he would stop at nothing to succeed in that endeavour.
Warring clans crashed around him like the extras of some cinematic epic on the trials of Sparta but he paid little attention to the blurs and faceless harbingers of destruction. Each meant less to him than the one before and all were equally as volatile, his weapon caught them all regardless of affiliation and without warning they became the walking wounded – the cripples of their planet. Bill carried on, quickly earning the attention of each tribe’s greatest but particularly the attention of Drax the Destroyer who was likewise involved in the heart of the battle. The iridescent gathering on the outskirts of the battlefield – marking the presence of the Opulentia – hurriedly drew his attention and it was there he spotted some of the others in his motley crew of heroes.
Severity marked the darkened features of their supposedly fearless leader, Major Victory was a man defined by his lack of memory but high morals in the mind of the Korbinite alien. Bill almost backtracked before finding his innate strength again. He had no reason to second guess the violence at which he had approached the warzone.
Thrusting Stormbreaker through the air, he crashed it into the chest of a woman of the Marita as she attempted to read past. No sooner had her impressively muscular body slammed against the ground than her skull was opened like a cracked egg with nothing more than the equine behemoths balled fist. He felt a strange sensation build through his body; it was like he had finally found his calling in life. Bill turned, crimson coat swaying, and let a battle cry curse from the very pit of his stomach. People would remember his presence. “We have to evacuate. There’s nothing we can do other than let them destroy themselves.” Cynosure spoke will little sympathy and even less compassion. His eyes fell on the howling member of the Guardians of the Galaxy with a look of curiosity. “Even our own are devolving into these primordial attitudes.”
Mantis looked appropriately concerned. “This one is not so certain that all our members were eager to help.” She didn’t directly speak of what she had witnessed with Drax, but the motivations of the Luminals who had gathered with them had also left a lot to be desired. Her dark gaze caught the rival leader with an intensity that caused him to pause, but she couldn’t persist because she didn’t disagree. Her actions had led to disaster on Sarka, and Alpha Centauri now seemed equally as lost. The Opulentia had foreseen it.
“We should cut our losses and leave before we’re taken down with them.”
“Cut our losses?”
The look in Mantis’ eyes unnerved him almost as much as the words spoken by the Luminals prestigious leader. Sarka had burned under his orders and now he was expected to merely walk away from Alpha Centauri, a world that would eventually shape the future he had once known. Major Victory hadn’t had a moment of downtime to completely come to terms with what had happened already. Faze had used her abilities to restore his memories shortly before arriving on the planet slightly over a day ago and he now remembered his purpose was to prevent the events that would lead to the death of his teammates – the original Guardians of the Galaxy. Major Victory considered leaving the planet as a sign of failure, running away wouldn’t bring him any closer to his goal. Still, something they said seemed to ring true as the battle waged on around them.
Mantis placed her hand on his shoulder. “One does not want to run anymore than you do, Major.” Her support faltered. “Yet look around? How many of the Guardians still stand by our side? Four remain where seven began.”
Cynosure growled. “Major, I suggest you make your choice. It looks like the end is coming swiftly. Gorani will pull us all out if we call him.”
Drax the Destroyer and Beta Ray Bill brutally tore through all who opposed them. Rocket Racoon, Bug and Persephone were nowhere to be seen in the near-distance and his heart panicked for the latter although she may have often questioned his decisions. It seemed they were rapidly falling at every hurdle thrown at them and some time was needed to gather and recollect their thoughts and motivations. It was a choice that made him uneasy but one that was necessary to the survival of those he had become responsible for. He found some comfort in the gentle touch of the Celestial Madonna. Alpha Centauri had been but one aspect of the larger puzzle that would eventually destroy everything he had known. Throwing down his eyes, Major Victory conceded. His decision had scarcely been made when he noticed the tremendous crevices that now formed across the battlefields of the planet they had failed to save from itself.
“Make the call.”
Cynosure obliged in silence for once, and the devices they had all worn slowly began to glow. It pulled all of the devices that remained entirely in tact from the wreckage of the dying planet, all but one – Beta Ray Bill tore and crushed his teleportational device before it managed to transport him elsewhere. He was a warrior tired of running from what he considered to be his purpose, his eyes looked into the darkness at a monstrous beast that slithered amongst the scars of the ancient planet and his heart burned with rage and glory. He let loose a battle cry and held the Stormbreaker above his head. His teammates last saw him diving into the depths of the planet, but they soon disappeared. Alpha Centauri was left to consume itself.
Knowhere, the Fault
“Unhand me you emerald wench.”
Ismene of the Opulentia practically screamed with fury as the remainder of the heroic party once again returned to the metallic caverns of Knowhere, the base and market place that teetered on the edge of existence. Her eyes were wild and her hair askew as the woman who had calmly accepted her demise now continued to live. Mantis stepped back from her but her look was unapologetic. Drax’s fist tore through the dividing wall as he came to a pause, unsure how he had so quickly been pulled from a battle that had made him feel so alive. Mantis’ gaze fell from the Alpha Centaurian to the Destroyer, who still held his blood covered hands in the shape of a fist. It was a few moments longer as they stood in silence that she allowed the psychic to shriek like a harpy before she interrupted her.
“Ismene,” she said calmly but as a warning. “You have to answer for yet. This one will ensure that you reveal what you have already hidden from us.”
“So few of you have returned–”
Gorani trailed off as he entered the room. His glare saw only his own profit margins but by this point even Cynosure was unnerved by his lack of empathy. Major Victory, Mantis, Drax the Destroyer, Ismene and the Bryldn native were all that remained of what had once been two singular teams. It was only then that they realised how few had truly survived the experiences they had faced. They clustered around at the man’s entry and stared cautiously at the hooded female figure who accompanied him. Cynosure, who had so far proven to be quite the hothead, was the first to speak while the others watched with various emotions. His red Luminals uniform was torn and dirty, he was a far cry from the leader he had first been presented to them as.
“And what of the others? Where are all of the Luminals,” he paused for a second as he looked around. “And the unaccounted for Guardians too.”
Gorani frowned. “I dare say their bodies float through space. Alpha Centauri appears to have become little more than fragments in the stars since it was torn apart. You are all that returned. Beta Ray Bill disengaged his device moments before extraction and Brightstorm and Rocket Racoon migrated to Igrinar before the first waves of the battle had even reached on another. The others are unaccounted for, I can only assume their devices were damaged or removed. It was an unsuccessful endeavour.”
“That is all you have to say? It was an unsuccessful endeavour?” screamed Cynosure. “Four people have returned. Six have survived the experiences that you forced upon them. Each of those casualties has fought so that you can live, Gorani. It now rests squarely on you–”
“And my species has ceased to exist,” Ismene growled.
Cynosure turned on her. “So you finally care? You would happily have died with them had Mantis not pulled you from the chaos. Our colleagues have been lost so you could live, yet you stand foolish and ungrateful–”
“That’s enough.”
Major Victory stepped between them as he attempted to diffuse the situation. He had known many a hothead in his time as a hero but he wasn’t as adept at offering tranquillity and calm as Yondu would have been but he would have to attempt to do so. Cynosure was minutes, if not seconds, from pulling his weapon on the man who had co-ordinated the majority of his past missions as a hero. Gorani had been wrong to pit them against one another, but as adults they had been just as mistaken to buy into the competition in the first place. Major Victory saw Gorani for what he was, an opportunist. His friends were out there somewhere, possibly dead or dying and he wouldn’t be able to save them now. He had to know that he could at least continue with what they had died for. The Guardians of the Galaxy must continue to exist, and they now had purpose.
“Did Brightstorm and Rocket make it to Igrinar?”
Gorani gave a curt nod. “Brightstorm has alerted me from there. He will be remaining there for the foreseeable future as the racoon recovers. He then returned to prayer and no further communication was available.”
“What if this one should wish to see Rocket?” Mantis was genuinely concerned for the wellbeing of the one other member she was certain lived. Still, she watched Cynosure carefully and felt his pain. He was but one of two remaining Luminals, the rest of whom had simply disappeared into the recesses of a large galaxy. His teammates had betrayed him and almost killed her, but she knew better than to burden the mourner with that news.
“Doubtful that’s possible at this time. This is a sad day but you are the heroes that still stand,” Gorani continued somewhat cautiously and never turned his gaze from Cynosure. “You are now the galaxies premier task force. A loss has been dealt but there’s nothing that can’t now be rebuilt.”
“So we forget them?” Major Victory snarled but reigned in his own temper quickly.
Gorani shrugged. “What else would you suggest we do?”
Cynosure’s humanity finally broke through as his anger boiled at the news of his fallen teammates. His nostrils flared and his otherwise handsome face was distorted into a much uglier grimace. “You will memorialise them. You will honour their loss.” His tone was strong and defensive but even then his voice cracked in an unusual manner. It seemed as though his emotions had gotten the better of him and his fingers dug firmly into his palm as he clenched his fists. He did not wait for a reply from the chairperson of their new endeavour before he stormed from the holding area and back towards the rooms that had once belonged to his friends and colleagues.
“Yes. Memorials for those missing would certainly create a greater need for you,” Gorani answered with an eerie smile. “It is something we must alert the intergalactic media about.” He paused as he turned to leave. “I have forgotten my manners. Allow me to introduce you to a very special acquaintance of mine, the Princess Crystalia of the Inhumans.”
Her appearance remained shrouded beneath the brown hood, but the woman was somewhat recognisable despite this. Her beauty was radiant even from the shadows that dulled her features. Blonde tresses rolled across her chest lazily and she appeared to be wearing a new yellow and white costume, something that could easily be compared to the one she had previously worn as an Avenger. Crystalia failed to lower her hood, nor did she even bother to make them a response. It seemed that her line of vision was trained exclusively on the gelatinous alien who had introduced her. She stood in his exit path but he wasted no time in forcibly removing her obstruction. It was a move that seemed to anger the princess.
“Oh, yes. There is the simple matter of a deal once made?” Gorani’s eyes flashed devilishly as he referred back to the bargain in which they would become involved in his industry.
“If we do this as the Guardians of the Galaxy, we strive to succeed and from this point on we don’t run. We will never enter a fray blindly as we have done twice before. This is a turning point. We will take the blows we’ve been dealt and we will continue to create a brighter future. I came back to stop something from happening and the exact details remain cloudy but every catastrophe could be what I’m here for. I have seen the Avengers in action and their codes of honour are incomparable,” Major Victory concluded. “There is one rule from here on out, we will fight for justice but we will not take justice into our own hands. We will not kill.”
“I assure you, Major Victory. At least one more will die before all is done,” replied the hooded princess coldly as she turned her back to the men and women who were expected to work alongside her.
There is a wild frontier to develop with this title and we will see character development for one and all. I hope that I’ve created an interesting cast for you all. Drax the Destroyer is a character that I particularly enjoy and as the other hothead on the team, I feel there will be much tension between him and Cynosure. However, perhaps it is the Princess Crystalia of the Inhumans that is the wildest card on the team. She’s operating under a veil of secrecy from the others and there is a lot to be developed in her storyline. Korvus and Nightside will round out the title, as seen in the gatefold, and hopefully add an interesting spice and flavour to the series. Readers of Dino Pollard’sStarjammers will remember what happened when Korvus and Drax last met.
Rest assured faithful readers, this is not the last we have seen of the original members of Guardians of the Galaxy. One way or another we will meet Beta Ray Bill, Persephone and Rocket Raccoon once again.
Gavin McMahon
December 1, 2011
Next on the Guardians of the Galaxy: Daemons are on Knowhere, but where have they come from? And why have they come? Plus, more on the Princess Crystalia’s deal with Gorani and our heroes say their farewells to those who they have lost along the way.
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