MIRABILE DICTU

By James McKenna

It was not unlike a biblical apocalypse, as fire streamed down from the sky, and winged figures took to the heavens in intricate aerial dances, thousands of pairs of white wings beat, sounding like a dull roar, as an ocean sounds from afar; but it was not sulfur and brimstone that rained down, but twisted alien steel and plastics. The Kree were attacking earth, and a few errant attack ships—antiquated holdovers from before the Kree annexation into the Shi’ar Empire—had wandered into Sky Isle territory.

Advanced weapon batteries appeared and started to fire from the Avian Island. For, as descendants of the Inhumans, the Avians were not without their own brand of technological advancements. Thousands of years ago, a prevalent spike appeared in the Inhuman population, amongst a culture that values uniqueness, one mutation had started to appear with alarming regularity—winged flight, and soon arose two dichotomous spheres, one for specialized genetic uniqueness and a second for Avian advancement. And thus two events most important in Inhuman and Avian history: the Schism and the Exodus; the winged members separated themselves from the greater culture, ordaining themselves as a separate people, the Avians or Birdmen, later scientifically categorized with Carolus Linnaeus’ Latinized system as the Homo aves. The Exodus came after the separation, feeling dissatisfied with the other Inhumans, the Birdmen left, in a procession mocking the royal traditions held so dear to the monarchy that shunned them. The greatest scientific and architectural minds of the Avians built their new home, Sky Isle, a floating haven for the winged people.

Since that time, the Birdmen had encounters with the outside world only sparingly; the plane crash that brought them their future ruler the Red Raven, a visit from the winged mutant Warren Worthington, the high-flying Angel of the X-Men, the man called Nova, the Sub-Mariner and few others. As such, the sudden invasion came as shock to the stagnant xenophobic system of the Birdmen, their weapons tore through the ships, but not before contingents of Kree troops disembarked, making use of jetpacks, to engage the Avians in aerial combat. Any who could fight or hold a weapon engaged the Kree, most fled, hiding in fear.

“FREE THE BLOODRAVENS!” In a voice hoarse from rage and combat, the King of Sky Isle, Red Raven commands the most dangerous men and women of his kingdom to be released, the jingoistic fanatics who previously made up the Avian armed forces, some of the best trained and most dangerous combatants and soldiers on the planet. Red Raven hoped that by unleashing the Bloodravens to save his people, he had not doomed the entire world with their zeal for dominance.

“Only a few ships are left, but the battle goes poorly, we need help. Would Atlantis aid us? Do you have any other associates still active, milord?” one of Red Raven’s counselors asked, as he darted through the air, deftly avoiding energy blasts from Kree armaments.

“I fear they are few and far between, and now I curse our isolationism,” Red Raven replied, “Yet, I have bid my daughter Dania to flee to our communications citadel, if there are allies to be had out there in the world, she will find them.”

“I pray she does,” the Counselman replied to Raven, as he fired off a volley of energy blasts from a gun-like Avian device, grounding several Kree.

New York City; Time’s Tower

In the 1940s, Time’s Tower stood as a beacon of hope in an ever darkening world, as Hitler’s fascist regime made a grasp for power, as Hirohito deployed troops across the Philippines, seven colorful figures gave the United States, and the rest of the free world, hope. They were the Liberty Legion, marvelous as they were, as heroic, grand and epic as they seemed, at the end of the day, each of them were simply, ordinary men; save perhaps, that mysterious figure Jack Frost, but even he was identified with.

If attacked by fifth columnists, or secret Axis strikes, the Legion was always there, to protect, selflessly, to rise to the occasion, no matter the threat, no matter the strength leveled against them and safeguard America. The Invaders were great heroes, and their work did much to help end the war, but the Legion served as the presentable, public face of heroics; the wholesome girl one could bring home to mother, whereas the Invaders were a worldly, darker tryst. The Legionnaires could perform any task, and look good doing it. And now two old comrades find themselves enraptured in times gone by, times missed and fondly remembered.

“I miss those days, it’s seems like a long gone childhood, threats were as dire as ever, but we were younger—not that age matters to us, I suppose—but it’s sobering, so many great times gone…Jeff, Maddy, Bob,” Bruce Dickson, the man who used to moonlight as the mysterious Thin Man sadly reminisces.

“I know what you mean. For so many years I was an anthropologist…and I always found myself wondering why some cultures died out and some stayed; that question around which I based theses and book and spent years trying to answer, it’s stayed with me now albeit on a smaller scale. Why do some of us keep going, of all the heroes, why me, why not them? Every day it seems harder, some great maw trying to suck me up, I don’t know if it’s survivors guilt or something, you’re the one with the PhDs in psychology and philosophy, but…dammit, Bruce, I miss her,” Elton Morrow, the super strong and super resilient Blue Diamond has been struck at his weakest point. It is not a physical wound, no one has drawn blood, or shattered his great diamond form, but his heart and soul, the receptacles of emotion, of the love he once and still bears, has been trampled by circumstance.

“Speaking as a psychologist, and professional, this is noteworthy progress, and we should continue on with it. But speaking as your friend, I know how you feel, and it never gets easier, it’s been over fifty years since I lost Olalla…everyday I wake up and roll over in bed, and she should be there, chest rising and falling with breath, hair tousled from the night’s sleep and my vision of a perfect, live angel. And every morning it hurts the same, and that’s why we must fight,” Bruce, as an understanding man and hero responds, identifying with his friend’s loss.

The Blue Diamond has only recently returned to earth, after some still as yet undisclosed tragedy on the fringes of the galaxy which left his lover, Shanga the Star-Dancer dead. Elton had had many adventures in the far reaches of space, some so awesome, he said they defied description, and even saying after witnessing them, they were still incomprehensible to his mind. However, some of the stops on his journey proved to be quite fortuitous, giving him the power to transform from his diamond form, to human again. On another planet he and Shanga discovered a mystical fountain of youth, de-aging Morrow, returning him to the prime of life, being rendered youthful and exuberant in both flesh and mineral form.

Just as Blue Diamond was readying himself to recount the tragic tale, a familiar, antiquated piece of machinery came to life. Electrical power had never been a problem for the Liberty Legion, as they ran off of specialized Avian and Kalahian generators and power sources. The Legion machinery would have taken too much electrical power to run, so they had fashioned their own means of operation. Even after all the time gone, the headquarters operated smoothly as ever, and now Bruce and Elton stood before history in the making, as the ancient communications panel came back to life, abuzz with activity, a distress call from the wondrous Sky Isle.

Isle of Man

The pristine Celtic coasts were previously the sight of a would-be epic battle, as two V-Battalion operatives, the Iron Cross and the Challenger managed to fight off a attack from Volcan the Sub-Earth Man, intending the small island to be one of several spots worldwide to induce quakes and volcanic eruptions—with which he would revert the earth to fiery hostile state where he would rule supreme. With grit, guile and tactics, the V-Battalion defeated him and drove Volcan back underground to lick his wounds. Iron Cross and Challenger had been given clean up duty, defeating any of Volcan’s left over subterranean henchmen.

While the Iron Cross armor was capable of flight, the Challenger was not so empowered, and was just a miraculously talented and gifted man. Bill Waring, the time tossed 40s hero turned V-Battalion operative known as the Challenger, used a custom V-Cruiser, a sort of SHIELD hover-car bred with an Avengers atomic steed. The front of the Crusier, a large V-shaped emblem, shield and weapons array could detach and be used as a V-wing, a smaller mode of personal transportation akin to a blander version of a Goblin glider.

As the Iron Cross flew in formation with the Cruiser, the wearer of the hulking armor suddenly became surprised. A signal unknown to the pilot started to beep within the armor, an old communications frequency.

“Hold up, Challenger, I’ve got something coming on some old frequency I’ve never seen before. Helmut must have left it programmed in, for nostalgia, or maybe for emergencies,” the new Iron Cross explained.

“Where’s it coming from, Cross?” The Challenger asked as he deftly piloted the Cruiser.

“Er…” the pilot’s voice buzzed through the helmet, as the origin was found, “I believe it’s coming from Red Raven’s Sky Isle, a distress call, he’s under attack by…Kree? From what I can tell, this is an old Liberty Legion frequency, someone must have hit the wrong switch when sending out the call. We’ve got to go help.”

The Challenger nodded in agreement, the two heroes found and set the coordinates into their shipboard computers, as the Iron Cross took off in a burst of thrust, the Challenger affixed an oxygen mask and goggles for protection and followed.

Sky Isle

“The battle continues to worsen, even with the Bloodravens, for more Kree have followed the original attackers and add to the assault!” the Counselman informed his King.

“Quiet and fight,” The scarlet King commanded, as with a roar and charge he took a Kree soldier by surprise, stripping him of his jetpack and tossing him to the brine miles below. But the defeat of one lowly soldier was useless in regards to the bigger picture, as the blue skinned horde advanced, now even the Bloodravens began to lose ground.

As if on cue, guided by fate, the Thin Man’s Kalahian Stratoplane appeared through the clouds, its engines screamed like the hordes of hell unleashed upon the mortal coil. It made a pass over the floating Island, unleashing the Blue Diamond like a high-yield warhead, falling towards the island, Elton began his short transformation, his entire body becoming one solid, living, moving diamond, his hair froze in place becoming errant, wild, mused locks of cosmic diamond. Lashing out in wild, abrasive anger, as much fueled by the attack upon his old friend as by the pent up rage over his lost lover, the Blue Diamond disabled dozens of Kree soldiers, as he buzzes through one of their airborne attack formations during his fall.

A second pass by the Stratoplane brought it crashing into a Kree ship. The explosion masked the teleportation of the Thin Man into battle, whipping about long daggers with his extended, elastic limbs. As the Kree army paused in disbelief before the two new combatants, the Bloodravens and the Avian people advanced once more, with Red Raven and a recently returned Dania, at the forefront.

Dania savagely tore into a contingent of Kree troops, buzzing around with their jetpacks. She leveled her spear at them, twirling in the sky and catching one of the troops in the face with the flat of the blade. He went unconscious, tiny pricks on the side of the spear blade caused small rivulets of blood to gush down. With no one behind the controls, his jetpack carried him off, rising into the air at first before starting to descend, down below the clouds and into the ocean.

She gouged at another with the spear, and twirled, unleashing an energy blast from its tip at another soldier. Despite the primitive looks, the spear was an advanced weapon of Avian design. This trick availed her not, as another contingent of Kree troops converged, determined to overtake her. As she was being overtaken, wild bursts of energy appeared around her, disabling soldier after soldier, as the view cleared, her eyes met the Iron Cross.

The Cross armor was a flying behemoth, yet it could stop on a dime and maneuver with an ease and agility not belied by its size and power. The armor’s gauntlets glowed with power and unleashed a surge of energy taking out another few Kree troops. Yet more enforcements had arrived. Thanks to the efforts of the Thin Man, Blue Diamond and the Avian people, only one Kree ship remained, and unexpectedly that now burst into flames, with a large rupture in its side. A figure in green, black and red fell past Dania and the Iron Cross. The Challenger had jumped from his V-Cruiser after setting it to collide with the last Kree ship. The cruiser itself was not a large vehicle, but the Challenger had set its weapons systems to overheat, thusly creating a large explosion to further the destruction upon the Kree ship.

Dania dropped like a lead weight, spinning herself around and launching into a dive, she caught up with the Challenger and caught hold of him, borne aloft on feathery, scarlet, wings; she flew the Challenger back up to the Island, depositing him onto the ground. With their ships gone, the Kree fought even harder, nothing left to lose, they pressed on. A hundred troops or so remained out of the invasion that once was. Using some of their alien sensory equipment, the Kree now made beelines for what the Birdmen call the Atlas Tower. A citadel which houses all of the machinery and technology that keeps Sky Isle buoyed among the clouds. That tower was the means by which their home was borne aloft. Their entire world rested on its shoulders. Dania saw this, picked the Challenger up again and sped off towards the tower, the Iron Cross followed.

The battle continued, the Kree spreading like fire across the city in groups of two or three. The Kree warriors that were left were the best of the best, they had stayed alive thus far, and ardently desired to see the defeat of their enemy, for visiting upon them so many casualties. The few scientists left among the Kree had been working the entire battle to find the anti-gravity engines that kept the Island floating, now as a last ditch effort the Kree were making a grasp for it. As dozens of blue skinned soldiers did their best to buzz past him, the Red Raven disabled as many as he could, and he turned, seeing their destination. In horror he realized their intentions.

“They’re moving to the Atlas Tower! Go, comrades! Bloodravens! Attack!” Raven screamed again.

“What’s going on, Raven?” Thin Man asked his old friend, as Raven came down to the ground where the Diamond and Thin Man were standing. The Raven had summoned a remote hovercar. It now appeared and the three got in.

“The crazy blue bastards are moving for the Atlas Tower,” Raven said, rage smoldered in his eyes. He now piloted the vehicle with abandon.

“What’s that? Even back in the old days we didn’t hang around the Island too much,” Elton, the Blue Diamond asked.

“The Atlas Tower is the collection of all the machinery and genereators that keep Sky Isle aloft. Were it to shut down, we Avians could all survive, but the impact on the earth would cause apocalyptic catastrophe. Tsunamis and rising water levels would destroy the coasts on both sides of the Atlantic, and that’s just the beginning, I don’t even want to contemplate the damage done to the earth’s biosphere,” Raven answered, his voice cold and matter-of-fact.

“So we’ve got to stop it,” Thin Man said, the hovercraft neared the Tower, and Bruce was readying himself to teleport to join the Bloodravens.

“Yes,” Raven echoed Bruce’s enthusiastic sentiment.

“You guys remember what Jeff used to say at times like this?” Blue Diamond asked the two men. Despite the dire situation, all three of the old colleagues smiled a bit and a great roar pierced through the din of battle in a battle cry long forgotten by the world.

“Let’s Go, Legion!”

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Well, here we have it, folks, Liberty Legion issue one. Can you believe it? My own disbelief is the inspiration for the title of this first issue. Mirabile Dictu, translated from Latin, roughly means “marvelous to say.” I certainly found it marvelous to be writing about the Legion, dedicating pages to their exploits, dusting them off and making them workable again. I enjoyed it and had fun writing this, I hope those that read it have fun to. There’s plenty to come. One final note, I have to give thanks to everyone on the message board who helped to provide the genesis for this series, as bunch of ideas got thrown out regarding these characters and series that helped me to form the basis for it. Thanks, guys.