Annihilation: The Guerilla War

The Lost Years Saga

Forward

I’ve been a Nova fan since 1976. As a long term fan and a completist, some things have always nagged at me. One of the most important of those nags would be the “lost years” of Nova’s life – the year he spent on Xandar during the Second Xandar-Skrull War and the year between the end of the Annihilation Nova mini-series and the beginning of the Annihilation event. We really don’t know much of what happened during those years – and, since it looks like Marvel won’t ever be filling us in on what happened during those lost years, I decided to fill in the blanks myself. Thus was born what I’ve been referring to as The Lost Years Saga. The set of stories making up The Lost Years Saga take place in the 615 Universe – a universe right next door to our familiar 616 Marvel Universe. So, much of the history of the 615 Universe will mirror that of the 616 Universe. Some things will be a little different. The 615 Universe is a bit grittier than the 616 – and Rich Rider will make some different choices in the 615 than he did in the 616. However, the differences are not so great that the elements that make Nova great in the 616 Universe become lost or unrecognizable. The 615 Rich Rider is very similar to the 616 Rich Rider – except that perhaps the 615 Rider matures a bit quicker in response to his experiences than the 616 version has to date. Most of the stories will take place during the time frame between the Annihilation Nova mini-series and the Annihilation event – with flashbacks to events in the Second Xandar-Skrull War. That being said, there will be at least two stand alone Second Xandar-Skrull War stories – one of which addresses another nagging question familiar to long term Nova fans – namely the mysterious Epyrus event. In the course of the stories, I’ll address some of the other nagging questions that fans debate frequently such as the nature of Nova Force and the nature of the Worldmind. Along the way, Xandar will be developed as a society and culture like it never has before. Now, before anyone jumps me – let me again repeat that this is an alternate universe from the 616. If the 616 ever addresses Nova’s lost years or the other concepts I’ve mentioned – then that’ll be the way it is for the 616 – but it won’t change the way things happened in the 615. And yes, for those of you who have been following my Nova: The Next Generation stories, these Lost Years stories take place in the same universe and all my Nova fan fics are part of a grand arc beginning with The Third Fall of Xandar, stretching through The Lost Years Saga and into The Next Generation – and ending with a story I’m calling, appropriately enough, The Last Nova Story. I hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as I enjoyed writing them. This first story of The Lost Years Saga begins immediately after the events of the Annihilation: Nova mini-series. – Timelord

Prologue: Adrift in the Dark

He floated in darkness. He shivered from the cold. There was supposed to be no sound in space, but he could hear the screams of pain – the pleas for help. He was a hero. He knew that. He was supposed to help – but his body wouldn’t respond. It was as if he was asleep – but at the same time not asleep – caught somehow in a dream where he moved in slow motion and everything around him – fleeting sounds and images – moved at near lightspeed. He tried to move – struggled – it was as if his limbs were too heavy to lift. He laughed – how could his limbs be too heavy to lift when he could control gravitons? With a mighty effort he forced his eyes open – blinking to clear the blurred images flooding his brain. He floated in debris, slowly spinning head over heels. His head hurt. Around him was a cloud of red frozen particles – his own blood seeping through his phasic shielding as the nanites from his uniform and within his body cleaned him, healed him, and discarded residue and waste products. The excruciating searing pain from his face and head began to make him nauseous. Combined with the spinning of his body, it was too much to bear. He heaved – but there was nothing to expunge. He could hear a voice at the edge of his consciousness. He didn’t like the voice. It annoyed him. Leave me alone dammit! Can’t you see I’m sick? The voice was insistent – demanding attention – telling him to do something. He strained to hear the voice. He didn’t understand it – couldn’t understand what it wanted him to do. His eyes fluttered and he slipped into the dream again. He didn’t notice the Xandarian scout shuttlecraft as it pulled up beside him.
 

A Story from

Nova: The Lost Years Saga

Part I of the Series Arc

Annihilation: The Guerilla War

Serial 1

Echoes of the Past – Portents of the Future

Chapter One: Rescue

Drax placed Richard Rider on the emergency medical scanning table located in the aft area of the Xandarian scout shuttlecraft. Rider had a deep cut across his face and looked pale; as if he had lost a lot of blood. Rider had regained consciousness briefly upon being brought aboard ship – just long enough to ask Drax to help him learn to fight the Annihilation Wave. Drax held little hope that Rider would survive the next hour – much less be able to fight again.

The nanobots making up Riders uniform shifted slightly and a portion of them broke loose and floated up to eye level with Drax as they reconfigured into a mini-bot holographic projection system. The avatar of the Xandarian Worldmind formed around the mini-bot and stood before Drax. “There is no need to utilize the ship’s emergency medical services. I am monitoring Richard. During his and Quasar’s fight with Annihilus, he sustained a deep tissue injury to his face, a fractured zygomatic arch, a basilar skull fracture, a sub-arachnoid hemorrhage over the occipital area of his brain, contusions to the frontal and temporal lobes of his brain, fractures of C-6 and C-7 cervical vertebrae, and various chest and abdominal internal injuries. I have placed him in a coma and have ordered the nanobots permeating his body to begin accelerated healing. He will be unconscious for several hours; but I expect a complete recovery.”

Drax had never liked AI’s and he was finding it increasingly difficult to tolerate the one standing before him. “How nice of you to go about your unilateral decision making while we’re all running for our lives together. In case you haven’t noticed, we have Annihilus’ entire battle fleet to evade. We need Rider conscious to form stargates in case we need to make a quick escape.”

If the Worldmind noticed Drax’s sarcasm, it did not acknowledge it. “I am well aware of our situation. I am monitoring the Annihilation fleet as we speak. They are unaware of our presence due to the cloaking technology on this scout ship. We will remain undetectable as long as we utilize the ship’s warp drive. If we start opening stargates, we will give our position away to the enemy. Furthermore, Richard’s medical condition renders him unable to fight effectively at this time. I am in the process of restoring him to battle readiness. In the unlikely event that the enemy should overtake us, I can form a stargate for a quick escape without need of involving Richard.”

Drax stared at the Worldmind avatar before finally sardonically saying, “So tell me then O wise machine, where you think we should go to escape the Annihilation fleet?”

As always, the Worldmind had an answer. “Please set course for the Tauron system. The Tauron are Xandar’s strongest ally and they have not yet been attacked by the Annihilation fleet. I have already been in contact with the Tauron government. They have mobilized their military and sent an escort to meet us.”

Drax was angry. “So again you made an important decision without consulting me. I have no intention of going to the Tauron system. The Tauron Syndicate has a price on my head.”

The Worldmind was prepared for Drax’s reaction. “I am aware of the price on your head. Please recall that you were in my custody before I ordered your release due to lack of evidence against you. I have persuaded the Tauron Syndicate to accept my ruling and drop charges against you. It really is the safest destination for all of us at this juncture.”

Drax’s posture became stiff and defiant as he faced the Worldmind avatar. “What I ought to do is throw both of you out the airlock and take this ship wherever I please.”

The Worldmind refused to respond in kind. “Remember, you were subdued and detained by the Nova Corps. You are currently in a ship owned by me, the Xandarian government. Even though Richard may be unavailable, I hold all the power of the Nova Force and I am far from defenseless.”

Drax smirked and relaxed. His respect for the Worldmind had increased slightly when it had not allowed him to push it around. He would never let the Worldmind know that though. Deciding to choose his battles, he merely replied, “I really hate prissy, know-it-all AI’s; but our choices do seem restricted and beggars can’t be choosers can they? The Tauron system it is then; but I give you fair warning – Nova Force or no Nova Force – if the Tauron try to take me prisoner, I will hold you directly accountable and nothing will stop me from exacting my revenge against you.”

The Worldmind nodded. “Understood.”

As Drax went to the cockpit to adjust course, the Worldmind turned its analytic attention to Richard. His life-signs were erratic and he looked uncomfortable. He was rather restless and was mumbling something incomprehensible. A scan of his cognitive functioning indicated that he was experiencing a troubling recollection from his personal history.

Chapter Two: The Once and Future Hero

Images and sounds assaulted him. It hurt more than the worst punch Diamondhead or The Sphinx had ever delivered. He was adrift in the dark void again – only this time there were no stars to see when he opened his eyes. Not that he wanted to open his eyes. That only made the pain worse. He curled into a fetal position – shutting his eyes tightly and placing his hands over his ears – trying in vain to stop the images and sounds. The images of destruction, the sounds of people screaming as they died, the explosions, the carnage – all too much to bear. A calm voice spoke to him – one he recognized – an old friend – Wendell? He opened his eyes and Quasar stood before him – reaching out to him to help. Relieved, Rich reached to take Wendell’s helping hand – but before he could touch him, Wendell screamed in agony as his body was consumed by energy and flame – reduced to ashes before Rich’s unbelieving eyes – leaving Rich alone again – screaming in horror as tears streamed down his face. Curling back into a fetal position, he felt sick. Bile rose in his throat and he gagged, fighting back the nausea.

Another voice spoke – one he recognized – a kind voice from the past. He opened his eyes and she stood before him. Petite, short black hair, black goth clothes, black make-up, eyes filled with acceptance and love. There was no mistaking the lovely visage of Ginger Jaye. He rushed to her – throwing his arms around her and burying his face in her hair. Her scent, the feel of her in his arms – it was beyond belief; but it really was Ginger. He opened his eyes to confirm what he knew to be true; but she began to fade – becoming insubstantial in his arms. “No!” He threw his arms around her again and together they fell through the void. His eyes fluttered and “reality” shifted to a very familiar time and place on Earth – a time only a few months before he became the man called Nova.

___________________________________

Mike Burley’s eyes burned with hatred and rage. The only thing that quelled his constant, pervasive rage and hate was hurting someone else. Before him was his very favorite target for pain infliction – Richard Rider.

Mike hated Rich’s father, Principal Charles Rider, as Charles Rider had been Principal at Mike’s school before Mike’s family had relocated to Rich’s neighborhood and Mike had begun attending Harry S. Truman High School. Mike had had behavior problems at every school he had ever attended; requiring frequent trips to the Principal’s office for disciplinary action. Charles Rider had suspended Mike from school on more than one occasion and had been especially strict with Mike. When Mike had learned that Rich was Charles’ son, he had begun picking on Rich as his means to settle the score with Charles.

Mike and his gang had surrounded Rich and Ginger on the street and hustled them into an alley. Rich was frightened for his and Ginger’s safety on the one hand; but tired of being Mike’s punching bag on the other. He was having a hard time controlling his anger. Mike got right in his face and sneered, “Hiya Dick. Dick Rider. They named you right. Are you a dick rider like your faggot father? Is the little Goth skank over there your beard? She looks like a fag hag.”

Rich was secure in his sexuality and harbored no ill will toward gay people, so Mike’s attempt to taunt him didn’t work. His only concern was to get Ginger safely away from this arrogant and cruel clique of bullies and bigots. “We don’t want any trouble Mike. Just let us go or at least let Ginger go. She’s never done you any harm.”

Mike affected a mock look of surprise. “You mean you want to leave? Well, all you had to do was say so. Please be on your way. We didn’t mean to detain you.” Mike bowed and stepped aside.

As Rich warily passed by Mike intent on collecting Ginger and getting away as fast as possible, Mike suddenly wheeled and punched him in the stomach. Rich went down to his hands and knees, immediately feeling sick to his stomach and gasping for air.

Ginger rushed toward Rich yelling at Burley “Leave him alone you son of a bitch!” Ginger was very petite. Mike’s girlfriend, Donna-Lee, and her friends had no problem restraining Ginger before she could reach Rich. “Rich! Are you all right? Rich!” Ginger struggled but the other girls did not let her get away.

The nausea passed and Rich was finally able to get his breath. He waved at Ginger and struggled to his feet. Two of Burley’s friends immediately grabbed his arms and restrained him. Burley smiled cruelly. “Listen Dick. Before you go, my friends and I would like to offer your faggoty-looking self and your skank-ass fag hag a make-over.” Burley’s gang laughed and cat-called.

Donna-Lee sneered at Ginger. “Honey, Goth is so out. You need some makeup, a new hairdo, and some new clothes in some other colors than black.” The girls giggled as Donna-Lee produced a tube of bright red lipstick and a pair of scissors.

Rich knew he had to distract Burley and his gang before they hurt Ginger. “Why do you have your buddies holding me Burley? Are you afraid to fight me all by yourself?”

Rich’s ploy worked. Burley turned to him filled with rage and hate. “Let him go!”

Rich’s captors released him; but before he could raise his hands to defend himself, Burley landed a punch on his jaw, felling him. Burley’s buddies hauled Rich to his feet and held him as Burley, nearly twice Rich’s size, stood before Rich. Burley punched Rich in the stomach, causing Rich to double over in pain. “That’s for your cocksucker father!” When Rich was able to straighten up, he spat on Burley. Further enraged, Burley punched Rich in the mouth. “That’s for you, dick rider!” Rich was dazed by the punch and would have fallen had his captors not been holding him up.

Burley sneered as Rich nearly lost consciousness from the punch. Burley turned and winked at Donna-Lee. Donna-Lee smiled cruelly. She would do anything to please Mike Burley. She opened the tube of lipstick and began smearing it carelessly on Ginger’s face. “Here honey. Here’s some color to liven up all that black and white. When we’re done with make-up, I’ll cut your hair into a new do. And honey, these clothes have got to go.” She grabbed Ginger’s blouse and ripped it, exposing Ginger’s breasts.

Tears of rage and humiliation streamed down Ginger’s face as all eyes turned to her. Ginger raised her head and with defiance and hatred looked Burley straight in the eyes. Through gritted teeth she vehemently snarled, “Fuck you Burley!”

Burley laughed. “Thanks for the offer skank; but those mosquito-bite-sized tits could never satisfy me. They might old dick rider here though cause he might mistake you for a boy!”

As Burley’s gang laughed at Burley’s cruel joke, Rich recovered enough to realize that Burley’s gang were all distracted and that he now had a chance to get Ginger to safety. Remembering some moves from a self-defense class he took during childhood, he stomped a foot into the ankle of one of his captors, causing him to howl in pain and collapse to the ground. With one hand now free, he punched his other captor in the nose, causing him to double over in pain, trying to stem the gush of blood flowing from his nostrils. Rich charged a surprised Mike Burley and landed the greatest punch he could muster to Burley’s exposed jaw; dazing and staggering Burley. As Rich charged by Burley and ran toward Ginger, her captors scattered. Rich grabbed Ginger and they both fled from the alley; not looking back to see if they were being pursued.

When they reached the street, Ginger yelled “This way!” and Rich followed her. They ran several blocks and cut through several alleys before finally arriving at Ginger’s apartment. They rushed inside and locked the door behind them.

Rich looked at Ginger’s torn clothes and lipstick smeared face. “Oh God Ginger. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that they hurt you!”

Ginger was more angry now than afraid. “I swear to you that that bastard Burley and his bitch girlfriend are gonna get theirs! Just you wait and see what I’m gonna do to them.”

Rich wasn’t listening to her. “Are you okay? This is all my fault. They wouldn’t have hurt you if you hadn’t been with me. I’m really really sorry.”

Ginger rolled her eyes. “Hey Rich, it’s not your fault. They’re the assholes, not us. We were just minding our own business. I think you’re sweet for feeling so unnecessarily guilty; but you’re forgetting that you saved me from getting hurt at the cost of getting yourself hurt. No one has ever done anything like that for me before. You’re an honest to God hero!”

Rich smiled, then winced in pain; having forgotten his busted lip until that instant.

Ginger noticed Rich’s expression of pain and suddenly realized their condition. “Oh my God! You’re still bleeding and I can only imagine how I look. Come on, let’s get you fixed up.” She led him into the bathroom and began searching through the medicine cabinet. She found some alcohol and some swabs and began preparing them to cleanse his wounds. “This is gonna sting.” Ginger swabbed Rich’s facial wounds with the alcohol.

Rich drew a quick breath and flinched as his head snapped back from the alcohol swab. “Shit! That hurts! No more!”

Ginger giggled. “So you can take a punch to the face to save me; but you’re afraid of alcohol sting?”

Rich grinned and again winced in pain. He pointed to the mirror. “You may want to save some of that alcohol for yourself.”

Ginger had forgotten the lipstick smears on her face. She looked in the mirror. “That fucking bitch! I am so going to get her back.” She wiped the red lipstick from her face. “I hate red lipstick. Why couldn’t she have used my standard black?” They both laughed. “The bitch tore my favorite blouse too! Come on, I need to change clothes.” She led Rich to her room and began searching through her closet as Rich sat down on her bed. She finally found a blouse and jeans she was satisfied with and began to remove her torn blouse and unfasten the jeans she was wearing.

Rich held his breath for a moment – unable to believe his eyes. “Uh – Ginger? Would you like me to wait for you in the living room?”

Ginger smiled, having made her decision even before inviting Rich into her room. “No. I would like for you to stay right where you are.” She removed her blouse and jeans.

Rich admired her small but firm and shapely breasts; and the contrast of her black thong panties against her pearl white skin. Her body was slim and lithe – the body of the gymnast that she was. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He had fantasized about this moment for months, but never really thought his fantasy would come true. At that instant, he thought she was the most beautiful and desirable woman he had ever seen.

She smiled, pleased that he obviously found her appealing. She approached him and pulled off his shirt before sitting in his lap and wrapping her long legs around his waist. Rich kissed her passionately, the pain from his lip injury masked by heated sexual desire. Their tongues explored each others mouths as passion rose between them. Rich tentatively touched her breasts; and was rewarded by her moan of pleasure and her more impassioned kissing.

She began to unbuckle his jeans; then suddenly stopped as if remembering something. “Hold on.” She got up and left the room. Rich cursed – wondering what happened to ruin the moment and hoping she would return.

She slipped back in the door, locking it behind her. “My mom won’t be home from work for 3 more hours. I got this out of her nightstand. She and her boyfriend use them when he spends the night.” She handed him a condom. “Now where were we?”

Rich smiled. “You were about to remove my pants and I was about to remove your thong.”

“Ah yes,” she breathed, as she embraced him and they together surrendered to the passion that had been building between them for months.

Chapter Three: Entangling Alliances

Vice-Admiral Ga’Noth of the Tauron Syndicate’s armed forces watched the approach of the Xandarian scout shuttle with dread. The old Minotaur shook his head. The shuttle’s arrival could not bode well for the Syndicate. The Syndicate had received Xandar’s distress call and had dispatched scout missions as it prepared its military to assist. Ga’Noth was haunted by the images of a devastated Xandar transmitted by the scouts. Xandar had the strongest military this side of the former Skrull Empire and had been utterly destroyed in a matter of hours! What hope could an independent star system like Tauron have against such an enemy? The Tauron had always relied on Xandar for protection against aggressors. Now, they were on their own and were ill prepared.

The Xandarian shuttle had dropped to sub-light speed and would rendezvous with his battleship in less than an hour. He hoped he would receive instructions from his government before the Xandarians arrived. He understood that the Syndicate was in negotiations with the beings from the strange-looking ship he had been ordered to allow to approach the homeworld.
 

Chapter Four: Debates and Agreements

Drax was once again frustrated with the Worldmind. “We should re-supply, get a faster and more heavily armed ship, and head for a militarily stronger and more trustworthy potential ally such as the Galadorian, Shi’Ar, Spartoi, or Kree Empires!”

The Worldmind was resolute. “The Tauron have been our allies for centuries and require our aid and advice if they are to survive against the Annihilation Fleet. We will make contact with their military, be escorted to the Xandarian Embassy, and a suitable quantum mainframe will be prepared for me so that Richard will no longer have to carry me within his Nova Matrix. Richard will remain with me as my protector; and we will organize Xandar’s allies into a force to resist and attack the Annihilation Fleet while the Annihilation Fleet is distracted with engaging The Skrull Empire. You and Cammi are free to take this or any other ship you may acquire wherever you like once proper arrangements have been made with the Tauron Syndicate.”

Drax could no longer hold his anger. “For the most sophisticated computer in the galaxy, you are a farking fool! The Tauron are cowards and always have been! They evolved from herbivorous herd animals! Their instinct is to run away at the first sign of trouble! So, they go whichever way the political wind is blowing as long as it benefits them! If they are your strongest ally, I shudder to think of your weakest!”

The Worldmind responded calmly. “I am well aware of the Syndicate’s history, Drax. I am merely fulfilling treaty obligations and seeing to the best interests of Xandar and our allies.”

Drax and the Worldmind continued their heated debate; and the Worldmind agreed to meet several of Drax’s demands. Cammi quickly lost interest in the argument and wandered to the rear of the shuttle.

Cammi looked in on Richard Rider as he lay tossing fitfully on the medical scanning table in the back of the shuttle. She thought he was handsome and secretly had a crush on him; but would never let anyone know that. In fact, she would act as if she didn’t like him in order to hide her true feelings. She always hid her true feelings. It was a necessary survival strategy in her family. At least with Drax it was easy to hide feelings as he was insensitive to them. He apparently had few feelings himself unless obsession with killing his longtime foe, Thanos, counted as a feeling. She looked again as Rich’s body shook and he mumbled incoherently. She hoped he would recover soon. It was comforting to her to have another human close by.
 

Chapter Five: Recollections of Love and War

Rich awakened but didn’t open his eyes. Fantasies came true sometimes. Making love to Ginger proved it. He couldn’t stop smiling. He rolled over to kiss her and wake her up. They had to get dressed and be out of her room before her mom got home. He opened his eyes and found himself surrounded by darkness. Ginger was gone. He was alone. Panicking, he looked about wildly and in so doing broke the protective barriers of the memory of his time with Ginger. Images and sounds once again assaulted him. Fleeting images from his past swirled around him. The screams and pleas for help overwhelmed him.

Desperate to find Ginger again, he grasped at a fleeting image of her as it passed by him. He missed, instead brushing an indistinct image of a beautiful woman with auburn hair.

The image coalesced and the woman stood before him, beaming in delight at the sight of him. She stood before him wearing the uniform of a Nova Centurion. Her helmet was neatly tucked into her belt. She playfully said, “On your feet soldier! We’ve got work to do! And – if you’re very very nice to me – we might find some time for a little play later.”

Rich was puzzled. She seemed so familiar. He should know her – but he couldn’t remember how he knew her. She was obviously Xandarian – and was wearing a version of a Nova Corps uniform from the time of the Second Xandar-Skrull War – but he didn’t remember ever meeting her. Not surprising – since he strangely remembered very little from that time in his life. “Who are you? Do I know you? Have we met before?”

The expression of delight left her face; and was instantly replaced by an expression of profound sadness. The bitterness was evident in her voice. “So it’s true. Of course it’s true. That bastard, Prime Thoran Rul, was telling the truth for once in his life. The memory wipe made you forget all about me – and all about us.” She turned to go, becoming indistinct as she faded into the black void.

“Wait!” Rich demanded as he dived toward her, touching her fading image and drawing a deep breath as his “reality” once again shifted.
 

***********************************

Basic Nova Corps training was finally over. For his first mission, Rich was assigned to a special ops detail investigating an anomaly on Nu-Xandar. Nu-Xandar was a cold, arid planet that lay at the edge of the habitable zone of the Tranta system. Nu-Xandar reminded Rich of the pictures he had seen of Mars when studying astronomy in school. Terra-forming efforts had been underway on Nu-Xandar for some years before Zorr had destroyed Xandar. Nu-Xandar had been abandoned after Xandar’s destruction when all resources had been redirected to Xandar’s restoration within the newly formed Xandar Cluster. No one lived on Nu-Xandar now. At least, no one was supposed to live on Nu-Xandar now.

They were approaching Nu-Xandar in a cloaked troop transport ship. Staring out the porthole, Rich could see the large mirrors orbiting the planet; directing light and heat from Tranta to Nu-Xandar’s surface. Small patches of green could be seen dotting the planet – the beginnings of large forests seeded to help thicken the atmosphere. In the northern hemisphere, he could see a large sea. Nu-Xandar had a thin but breathable atmosphere; and while cold by human standards; it was tolerable for anyone wearing a standard issue Xandarian military uniform.

Some of Rich’s classmates from basic Nova Corps training – Sevilica, Corinus, and Farona – were also assigned to this, their first special ops mission. All native Xandarians and all about the same age as Rich, they delighted in good-naturedly teasing Rich about his backwater Earthly origin. They were all very different from each other. As competent a soldier as she was a beautiful Xandarian female; Sevilica was auburn-haired, medium height, and blue-eyed. She was the only one with a royal background, coming from House Dru, the royal house that ruled Xandar. She was completing her first year of Law School when the war started. She immediately applied and was accepted to the Nova Corps, Xandar’s elite military unit. She was a natural leader and was well-liked by all her classmates at the Nova Corps Academy. Corinus was a brash young Xandarian male. Handsome, dark-haired, brown-eyed, and charismatic; he exhibited confidence and an air of swaggering bravado. Farona was the strong, silent type. She was attractive with short-cropped blonde hair and blue eyes; and she took her job as a professional soldier very seriously. These were among the first of those Xandarians coming of age to join the military from among the survivors of Zorr’s attack on Xandar; and among the first new recruits for The Nova Corps.

“Being a tourist again Rider?” teased Sevilica Dru.

Rich turned from staring out the porthole and grinned at Sevilica. “Can’t help myself. There’s just so much to see out here.”

Sevilica smiled back. They were developing a friendship.

The door to the crew deck snapped open and Corinus jumped to his feet. “Commander on deck!”

Richard, Sevilica, Corinus, and Farona snapped to attention as Centurion Commander Calvinus Nor stepped into the room accompanied by battle-hardened veteran Centurions Tyeverus Tul and Jarinus Fel. “At ease Centurions. We will achieve planet-fall within 20 units. To review your earlier briefing, this is a black ops stealth mission. Intelligence drones have recorded activity on Nu-Xandar when Nu-Xandar should be abandoned. The Worldmind wants to make sure that the Skrulls have not established a secret base on Nu-Xandar from which to conduct intelligence gathering and to launch attacks. It is our mission to find the base if it exists. We are not to engage unless we are attacked. This is a recon and target identification mission only. We need to do this without attracting the immediate attention of the Skrull fleet orbiting just outside our perimeter; being held at bay by our fleet. We don’t want to bring a major Skrull rescue mission down on us for our fleet to contend with while our fleet’s resources are already stretched to the max. If we identify a threat to Xandar, we will withdraw temporarily to confer with the Worldmind and our military to decide how to neutralize the threat. We do not want to alert any potential enemy to our presence, so no use of Nova power unless you are attacked; as gravimetric energy would be detectable by an enemy scan. When we have achieved planet-fall, we will divide into two squads to begin the search for the base. Sevilica and Rider will be under Tyeverus’ command; and Corinus and Farona will be under Jarinus’ command. I will stay with the ship to direct the mission and provide air support and rescue if necessary. Good luck and good hunting. Prepare to disembark.” Calvinus left the crew deck while Tul and Fel stayed to prepare their squads for the mission.

“Rider!” yelled Tyeverus, clearly not pleased with being stuck with the human in his squad. “Get your alien ass in gear and load up your backpack! In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re leaving in a few units!” Tyeverus sourly watched Rider rush to his locker. Tyeverus was preoccupied with many ill thoughts. What was that idiot, Dey, a jumped-up to Nova Prime commoner and former Xenopology professor, thinking when he deputized such a backwater primitive? At least the alien rabble Rider brought with him had their own powers and could be put to use as scouts or mercenaries. He was galled and disgusted that a little alien schmaug like Rider carried a Nova Prime matrix, the ultimate power of the Xandarian people. At least Dey had not been so foolish as to activate all the Nova Prime powers. If the Worldmind and Nova Prime Valt had any sense they would have powered down Rider’s matrix to minimal, wiped his memory, and sent him home as soon as he had arrived. To double his bad luck he was also stuck with House Dru’s contribution to the Nova Corps. He shook his head. He hated House Dru almost as much as he hated The Worldmind Hegemony. As far as Tyeverus and House Tul were concerned, it was House Dru’s fault that Xandar was in its current predicament. In his eyes, House Dru was just as guilty for Xandar’s fall and it was this war with the Skrulls.

As Rich retrieved his already packed and provisioned backpack, he ordered his uniform to modify itself for night operations. The familiar navy and yellow-gold colors of the uniform faded to a shade of black to match ambient light conditions on the night side of the planet where they would soon land. His helmet modified its shape from the traditional Nova Corps helmet to a star-less, smooth, black, form-fitting configuration with night-vision eye lenses and slits under his nostrils to allow him to breathe ambient air. During the day, the uniform could be modified to camouflage in forest or desert conditions; or to render the wearer “invisible” via a clever method of 360 degree projection of the surroundings. The uniform also masked body heat and other functions including gravimetric energy from both active and passive sensor scans. Rich noticed Tul staring at him. Rich was not happy at being assigned to Tul as Tul had made it abundantly clear how he felt about aliens. Earlier, Sevilica had explained that Tul was nearly 1000 years old and was a member of a small religious sect that worshiped the ancient Xandarian god of war, Gamil. Superstitious, racist, and xenophobic, this sect was dominant for a few decades in Xandarian history about 900 years ago; but had long since fallen into disfavor and was followed only by a few religious and reactionary fanatics such as Royal House Tul. Tul’s royal house was a rival to House Dru. House Dru had ushered in a new era for Xandar about 850 years ago; rejecting superstition, racism, and xenophobia. Rhomann Dey had been loyal to House Dru and when it became necessary to select a new Nova Prime, Dey, a commoner, had been selected even though Tyeverus was the more senior Corpsman and from a royal house. Tyeverus had harbored bitterness toward the Worldmind Hegemony and House Dru ever since. She explained that Tyeverus would not now be considered proper Corps material; but the Worldmind could not find a legal way to retire him from the Corps. Sevilica made it clear that she despised Tyeverus and his sect of reactionary fanatics.

Tul and Fel checked each Centurion in their squad as they issued each their sidearm, a mass-driver-based automatic hand weapon that silently fired adamantium pellets. Each Centurion’s uniform automatically formed a holster and automatic re-loader for the weapon as soon as it was issued.

The cloaked troop ship silently sat down on Nu Xandar’s surface in a clearing of new growth forest. Passive scans indicated no life forms in the immediate area; and the Centurions disembarked and quickly scrambled to the cover of the forest as the troop ship lifted off to maintain geosynchronous orbit above the landing site.

The squads gathered in the forest to review their mission assignments. Intelligence probes had indicated that there were possibly two areas of activity on the planet. To avoid detection, the Xandarians had landed halfway between the two areas of suspicious activity. Tul’s squad would head toward a nearby mountain range where one area of activity was detected. Fel’s squad would head deeper into the forest to investigate another area of reported activity. The squads departed with plans to rendezvous at the landing site within 24 hours.

The trip to the mountains was uneventful. Rich found Nu-Xandar rather unappealing. There had been no attempt to introduce animal or insect life to the biosphere; therefore there was no noise in the forest other than that made by wind as it passed through the limbs of the genetically engineered trees that absorbed the harmful gasses in the atmosphere and released a breathable gas of nitrogen and oxygen. As stealth was central to the mission, there was no verbal conversation; and Tul quickly quashed an attempt by Rich and Sevilica to carry on a “virtual conversation” through their tactical quantum link.

As they neared the foot of the mountain range just prior to dawn, Tul signaled an alert and the squad took cover in the boulder field. With night vision, they were able to make out a Skrull commander and two younger Skrulls in an encampment in a clearing within the boulder field leading to the base of the mountain range. The Skrulls had not detected the approach of the Nova squad. Through the tactical link, Tul silently ordered the squad to withdraw to a safe distance to observe the activity in the Skrull encampment. As the Nova squad withdrew, they suddenly found themselves surrounded by four Skrull Hellcat Androids.

Rich had received briefings about the Hellcats while attending the Nova Corps Academy. Hellcat androids were used by the Skrulls for sentry duty. The Hellcats were about the size of a terrestrial lioness and they hunted in packs of four. They were constructed of a durable metal alloy and possessed deadly teeth and claws. They were a danger to even the most experienced Nova Centurion as they were programmed to adapt to each attack in order to render a follow-up attack of the same type ineffective.

Tul was the first to react. “They know we’re here now! No need to hold back!” He flew into one Hellcat bouncing it off a boulder; and directed a collimated beam of gravimetric energy at another, destroying it. The Hellcat he had tackled recovered quickly and engaged Tul. Gravimetric energy would now be useless against it as it would have already modified its shields to repel such an attack. Tul would have to destroy it through some other method. It scratched and bit at him as they warily circled each other; each waiting for the other to make a mistake that could be exploited. Tul feigned an attack to distract the Hellcat – then took flight – landing on the Hellcat’s back and tearing its head off.

Rich and Sevilica engaged each of the remaining Hellcats. Their strategy had been honed in simulations of battle with Hellcats during their training at the Nova Corps Academy. They simultaneously tackled one Hellcat and used their energy absorption ability to drain the android of power. They then simultaneously directed the energy they had stored from the Hellcat into a massive focused concussive blast aimed at the remaining Hellcat. The concussion cracked the Hellcat’s armor plating and disrupted its defensive shields; staggering and confusing it. Tul capitalized on this sudden advantage; flying in and shattering the last Hellcat upon impact.

“Good work” begrudged Tul before turning to engage the Skrulls now descending upon the Nova Corps squad. Retreat was not an option. Tul ordered triangular formation as their fighting strategy. Rich and Sevilica immediately closed ranks with Tul; and the Centurions arranged themselves into a triangular fighting unit; each protecting the others back. Their orders from Calvinus Nor were to capture for questioning if possible; and use lethal force only if necessary for defense.

The three Skrulls from the encampment attacked with adamantium bladed weapons as energy weapons were useless against the Corpsmen’s phasic shields; and adamantium projectile weapons would simply invite the Corpsmen to use their energy projection capabilities against their attackers. The Skrulls hoped to use to their advantage the Corps preference for incapacitating and capturing enemies rather than killing them on sight.

Tul engaged the oldest Skrull, apparently the leader. Rich and Sevilica engaged the younger two Skrulls.

Surprisingly, the Skrulls were not very good fighters; and Rich and Sevilica easily dodged their clumsy attacks; landing punches that rendered the Skrulls unconscious. As Rich made to assist Tul, Sevilica held him back; pointing out that his intervention might endanger both Tul and the Skrull commander.

Tul and his assailant were circling each other; engaged in a knife fight. Tul sported a cruel smile. The Skrull was clearly not an accomplished fighter and Tul was toying with him. Tul would rapidly step in, inflict a wound, and step back before the Skrull could react or retaliate. The Skrull was bleeding from several wounds and was clearly near exhaustion; but Tyeverus Tul made a slight mistake and the Skrull was able to inflict a slash wound to Tul’s arm. Tul’s cruel smile turned to cold and bitter rage; and he rapidly stepped in and delivered enough slashes and stabs to incapacitate the Skrull Commander. The Skrull collapsed to his knees, closed his eyes, and began to pray; obviously surrendering to Tul. Tul smirked and stepped behind the Skrull. Before Rich and Sevilica could react, he grabbed the surprised Skrull by the chin, lifted his head, and quickly slit the Skrull’s throat. The Skrull grasped at its throat and writhed on the ground; gasping for air as it slowly and painfully died; drowning in its own fluids at the same time its brain was deprived of life-sustaining blood.

Sevilica and Rich were at first shocked; then outraged. Sevilica was the first to react. “Tyeverus Tul, I am hereby accusing you of war crimes and placing you under arrest for brutal, criminal mistreatment of a prisoner of war; as well as violation of standing orders to capture enemy combatants for interrogation.”

Tul laughed. “Try to make that stick. I used lethal force in self-defense against enemy combatants.”

Sevilica looked at Tul angrily and defiantly. “Rider and I saw what you did; and so will the Worldmind when we get it to read our memories back on Xandar.”

Tul sneered. “Of course. Once again House Dru proves its devotion to the cowardly ways that have brought our people to the brink of extinction. You are loyal to a traitorous and incompetent King and an AI that was meant to be a tool to help forge a Xandarian empire; not the lord and master it has become.”

Sevilica was furious. “House Tul fascist! How dare you insult our King and the Worldmind Hegemony! You will answer for your treason, your arrogance, and your crimes!”

Tul smirked. The Skrull Commander had stopped writhing and lay still and dead. Tul shifted aside the Skrull Commander’s robes to reveal a vest of explosives strapped to its chest. He smirked again as he looked Sevilica straight in the eyes. Sevilica clenched her teeth and set her jaw in frustration and embarrassment as her hands balled into fists.

Tul snarled, “Centurions, stand at attention and learn something about fighting Skrulls today!”

Sevilica and Rich snapped to attention, standing side-by-side as Tul approached them. Tul was deadly furious as he stood directly in front of Sevilica and stared into her eyes, his face so close to hers he was invading her personal space. She stood her ground, staring straight ahead and refusing to cower or flinch.

Tul’s voice was a low and deadly growl. “I was killing Skrulls 800 years before you were born. When your house still had some integrity about it, I fought side-by-side with some of your ancestors and they would be ashamed to call you kin today.” Tul then turned to Rich. “And you, primitive backwater Earth scum, I was fighting Skrulls when your ancestors still believed that your world was flat.” Stepping back, he continued to vent his rage. “What do either of you whelps know of fighting Skrulls? The reason we defeated these Skrulls so easily is that they are not regular Skrull ground troops. Look at their dress. They are Skrull Religious Police! Their only function is hunting religious fugitives that have escaped from their sphere of persecutory influence. They are never taken alive by non-believers. Their commander was not surrendering to me. He was saying his death prayer and preparing to detonate those explosives in an attempt to kill or injure all of us! We don’t need to interrogate them. We just need to find whoever they are hunting for and remove them from this planet.”

Sevilica would not be deterred. “You could have neutralized the threat without killing him. The truth is you were enjoying torturing him with your knife play.”

Tul stepped in front of her again. “Silence House Dru sycophant! You were not given permission to speak.”

Rich noticed that the Skrull he had rendered unconscious had regained consciousness and was groggily reaching for a weapon. He could easily disarm and detain the nearly helpless Skrull and he made to do so. Before Rich could act, Tul, not taking his eyes off Sevilica, drew his sidearm and fired a round into the Skrull’s forehead. The top of the Skrull’s head exploded; and it collapsed and lay still.

Tul sneered at Sevilica and with a voice full of sarcasm said, “I suppose you have a problem with neutralizing that enemy combatant too.”

Before Sevilica could respond, Rich heatedly yelled, “I have a problem with it! I could have stopped him without killing him! Again you acted cruelly and contrary to our orders. I am placing you under arrest.”

Tul reached into his utility belt and pulled out a small device which he activated before returning it to his utility belt. Rich and Sevilica felt their powers ebb.

Sevilica exclaimed, “A quantum link nullifier! Now you resort to illegal technology to sever Rider’s and my link to the Worldmind?”

Tul drew his sidearm and pointed it at Rich. “Both of you are under arrest for insubordination and failure to follow the orders of your commanding officer. Now drop your sidearms to the ground and cuff each other or I will shoot both of you right now.”

Rich and Sevilica reluctantly complied as they stared down the barrel of Tul’s gun.

The remaining Skrull regained consciousness and began to alter its shape into a ground-hugging lizard-like creature in an attempt to scramble away and escape. Tul shot one of the transformed creature’s legs off. As it writhed and screamed in agony, Tul stepped on its tail to prevent it from getting away; and placed the barrel of his gun directly against its head. It stopped trying to get away.

The terrified and traumatized Skrull begged for its life. “Please Centurion. We meant you no harm. We have no part in the war. We were searching for blasphemers against our true god, Kly’bn. Had we found them, we would have destroyed them and left your world. Spare me. Let me go and I will rid your world of the blasphemers and then peacefully leave.”

Tul laughed derisively. “We can rid our world and the universe of your pathetic species on our own.”

“In the name of all the true gods, let me go so I may fulfill my holy mission” begged the Skrull.

Tul was angered. “Your gods are false! Here, let me show you. If your gods are true, let them save you from me.” Tul then shot another of the creature’s legs off and laughed as it screamed in agony. “Where are your gods now?” he yelled as he pointed the gun at the Skrull’s head. The Skrull screamed in terror.

Tul was so distracted that he failed to notice that Rich and Sevilica had used their uniforms’ nanobots to free them from the cuffs restraining their hands. Rich and Sevilica attacked Tul even though he retained his powers and they were still powerless. Rich landed a punch that caused Tul to drop his sidearm; and Sevilica managed to land several blows to Tul before he could recover from their surprise attack. Tul recovered quickly from his surprise. Without powers, Rich and Sevilica could be an annoyance but could inflict precious little damage against a fully powered Centurion such as Tul. Rich tried to keep Tul in a choke hold while Sevilica pummeled his abdomen. Their efforts were to no avail. Tul easily freed himself from Rich’s grasp and landed several blows to Rider’s face and torso, before throwing Rider bodily against a bolder. Rich lay quiet and still, obviously seriously injured. Sevilica pressed the attack, landing several more blows to Tul’s abdomen and face. Her blows caused no damage at all as Tul had retained all his powers.

Tul smiled, “My turn.” Tul pummeled Sevilica’s face and torso before throwing her against a rock outcropping.

Seriously injured with multiple abrasions and contusions, eyes nearly swollen shut, mouth bleeding with teeth broken and cracked; Sevilica leaned against the rock outcropping to keep from falling to the ground.

“Ready to die?” Tul asked her.

She painfully grinned as she gasped for breath; a broken rib having perforated one of her lungs. She pulled Tul’s Quantum Link Nullifier from her utility belt. “Not yet you miserable House Tul bastard.”

Tul realized the attack by Rider and Sevilica had just been a distraction so that they could gain control of the nullifier. Before he could react, Sevilica smashed the nullifier into the rock outcropping. She was relieved to feel the nanobots from her matrix rush to heal and sustain her as Nova Force once again began to flow into her. She hoped Rider had not been killed as she was going to need his help to subdue Tul.

Tul was furious. “House Dru farking schmaug!” he cursed as he recovered his gun and pointed it at her head. Before Tul could fire, Rich flew into him and smashed him against a nearby boulder. Tul was dazed and Rich pressed his advantage, landing several blows to Tul’s face and torso.

Tul was staggered but not defeated. He cursed himself. He had forgotten that the little primitive Earth farker had a Nova Prime matrix implanted in his worthless carcass. The Nova Prime matrix had allowed Rider to quickly recover from what should have been devastating if not fatal injuries. He could see that Sevilica was rapidly healing and he would soon have to contend with her as well. Tul directed a gravimetric pulse at Rider, shooting him out of the air as he flew in to attack. He immediately had to dodge a pulse directed at him from Sevilica. Then Rider was on him, landing two powerful blows to his head in rapid succession before hammering him with simultaneous gravimetric pulses from both hands fired point blank into his torso. Tul was violently thrown back against a cliff from the impact of the pulses; and his upper uniform was shredded. He tried to stand but fell to his knees defeated, burned, bruised, and bleeding.

Sevilica was nearly completely recovered. During the fight she had made an emergency request to the Worldmind for a military tribunal to be convened. Tul looked up to find himself on his knees before the holographically projected avatars of The Worldmind, King Ferenus Dru, Queen Adora Dru, Nova Prime Valt, and mission Commander Calvinus Nor.

The Worldmind rendered the judgment of the tribunal. “Tyeverus Tul. After review of the facts of this case from your memory and the memories of Centurions Dru and Rider, it is the judgment of this tribunal that you are guilty of both war crimes and treason. You are hereby stripped of Nova Corps rank and powers; and remanded into the custody of Centurions Rider and Dru. Your physical body is to be imprisoned in stasis for not less than one hundred years; during which time your personality will undergo rehabilitative treatment in Cyber Prison.” As soon as the Worldmind had rendered its sentence, Tul felt his Nova Matrix reduce to minimal power.

Defiant, Tul snarled, “I do not recognize the authority of a King and an AI that have presided over the near extinction of our species! You trust an alien like Rider with our most powerful weapons! You have even allowed him to join the Nova Corps possessing no less than a Nova Prime matrix lost by your commoner rube of an errand boy, Rhomann Dey! You would like to forget that you granted the Lumphomoid asylum and your misjudgment cost us the destruction of our homeworld! You are weaklings who would rather use diplomacy with aliens than conquer them and impose our will upon them! You are the criminals and the traitors to Xandar, not I!”

King Ferenus shook his head sadly. “Xandar’s days of Empire are long behind us. We have found a better way and once this war is over, we will build a better tomorrow with our Nova Corps as our centerpiece in reaching out to the other species of the galaxies. As you well know, House Dru and the Worldmind were cleared of all negligence in the Lumphomoid affair by an independent council of investigators. But if I truly believed I had been negligent, your condemnation would not be necessary. I would have abdicated the throne. The tragedy that befell our planet could not have been foreseen. The Lumphomoids had always been friendly trading partners and no one could have known that a Lumphomoid could have acquired Celestial technology powerful enough to destroy a planet. Perhaps you will come to see the wisdom of our new ways during your long incarceration.” Then turning his back on Tul; Ferenus turned to Sevilica and Rich who immediately bowed their heads, fell to one knee, and placed their right fists over their hearts in the ancient sign of fealty to Xandar’s King. “Centurions. Today you have performed your duty with distinction. You have appropriately balanced the terrible realities and necessities of war with the laws and customs of our people. I commend you and my commendation will appear in your service records.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty” Sevilica and Rich said together.

Ferenus nodded and smiled in satisfaction as his avatar faded from view along with those of Adora, Valt, Nor, and The Worldmind. The troop ship landed nearby and Fel, Corinus, and Farona disembarked. Fel took Tyeverus Tul into custody. Corinus and Farona reported that they had captured an encampment of Skrull religious fugitives in the forest; and that preparations were being made to move the Skrulls to a non-aligned world where they could worship their Skrull god of peace without fear of persecution.

As Fel was leading Tul to the ship, the Skrull that Tul had tortured, now shape-shifted into the form of a snake-like creature to compensate for the injuries inflicted by Tul, surprised Fel and knocked him off his feet. The Skrull had recovered Tul’s sidearm and stood behind Tul with the sidearm pointed at Tul’s head.

All the Corpsmen aimed their sidearms at the Skrull; and ordered it to drop the weapon. Tul turned to look the Skrull in the eyes and smirked. He deliberately taunted the Skrull. “Your god is false. Only my god, Gamil, the Xandarian god of war, is true.”

The Skrull smirked. “If your god is true, let it save you from me.” The Skrull fired, shattering Tul’s skull. The Centurions all fired at the Skrull and it was shredded from hits by multiple projectiles and gravimetric pulses.

Tul’s body was loaded in the troop ship and everyone boarded for the short journey back to the Xandarian Cluster. The typical post-mission raucous banter was absent on the troop deck, with each Centurion solemnly reflecting on the sad events of the day.

When the troop ship landed on the spacedock, Rich was looking forward to retiring to his bunk at Nova Corps headquarters in the Orienta Shard for some off duty time. Later, he wanted to see if Comet and Crimebuster were back from their scouting mission; and rendezvous with them for some dinner and conversation. As he disembarked, he noticed that Sevilica, Corinus, and Farona were standing outside the ship deep in discussion. Sevilica looked up as Rich passed by the group. “Hey Rider, want to go with us to the alien sector of the Oesta Shard for a little R and R?”

As it was the first time Rich had been invited to socialize with his Xandarian classmates, he readily accepted the invitation. “Sure. Lead the way!”

Sevilica smiled and took flight. Rich, Farona, and Corinus followed. They exited the spacedock and made the short spaceflight to the hub’s airlock. Once inside the hub of the great cluster, they made their way by foot to the entrance to the travel tubes connecting the shards before once again taking flight and intermingling with the air traffic traversing the tubes. In no time they arrived at the Oesta Shard where they took a mag-lev train to the alien sector. The alien sector was a community on the “seedy side” of Oesta City. It was called “the alien sector” as visiting non-Xandarians tended to congregate there for entertainment and “black-market” commerce that was frowned upon by the greater Xandarian society. It was a popular hang-out for young Xandarians as well as military personnel including both regular Xandarian Star Corps military and the elite branch of the Xandarian Star Corps, The Nova Corps. Though loosely patrolled by Star Corps military police, The Worldmind mostly turned a blind eye to the activity in the alien sector; recognizing the need for respecting the customs of other species, the need for black market commerce, and the need for Xandar’s citizens and soldiers to occasionally engage in some unseemly behavior as a means to relax and unwind. Sevilica apparently had a destination in mind as they soon disembarked the mag-lev in a run-down looking station.

The Centurions emerged from the station onto a street lined with ramshackle buildings from which raucous music and shouts could be heard. Street vendors were everywhere selling food, drinks, and anything else someone might be interested in buying. An incredible diversity of species lined the streets, engaging in commerce or looking for entertainment. It reminded Rich of a visit to Tijuana, Mexico he had made with his high school Spanish Class one summer. He couldn’t help but smile as he followed Sevilica down the street, marveling at the sights. Corinus and Farona stopped to haggle with a street vendor. Sevilica stopped in front of a small, dark building and waited for Corinus and Farona to catch up to her and Rich.

Sevilica looked at Rich. “First time here?”

Rich nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been mostly hanging with Comet and Crimebuster in my off-duty hours. We didn’t even know about this place.”

Sevilica laughed. “Best kept non-secret ‘secret’ on Xandar! The powers that be tolerate this sector but there are always those spoil-sports that want to ruin all our fun and jettison it into space.”

Rich laughed. “We have places like this on my planet too.” He quickly added, “Without all the other species of course.”

Sevilica smiled and turned to open the door to the bar as Corinus and Farona arrived. She narrowly missed the bar door hitting her in the face as it burst open and some human-looking people dressed in what looked to Rich like olive drab US Marine Corps uniforms crowded out. “Outta my way bendejos! We’re here for some fun before we go on a bug hunt!” shouted a tough-looking Hispanic woman as she pushed by Farona. Farona clamped her jaw in anger and started after the woman, but Corinus held her back saying, “Let it go. We’re here to have some fun, not get in a fight. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.” Farona relented even though she knew Corinus would not have taken his own advice if it had been him that had been accosted. Sevilica ushered her group into the bar.

The bar was loud, smoky, and crowded; but the four Centurions found an empty table and sat down. Rich removed his helmet and looked around. His group represented the only Nova Corps elite soldiers in the bar; but there were some regular Xandarian Star Corps ground troops and fleet troops; and some Xandarian civilians intermingling with an incredible diversity of other species. He noticed one table of aliens representing several species he had never seen before. The interesting thing was that each wore a green paramilitary-looking uniform with a strange symbol emblazoned across their chest; and each sported a glowing green ring. “So who are they?” he asked Sevilica.

Sevilica shrugged. “No one knows. They visit here sometimes. Some say that visitors from alternate universes come to this bar; but I find that hard to believe. Whoever they are, they mind their own business, drink to their fill, pay their bill, and disappear. As long as you don’t cause any problems, no one asks too many questions here.”

Rich shook his head knowingly as if he understood. Sevilica exhorted Farona to buy the first round of synthahol. Farona got up from the table but had to wait to allow passage by her of a large, human-looking, curly-haired man wearing a long brown coat, a floppy hat, and an extra-long knitted scarf that dragged the floor. Strangely, a human-looking attractive young lady dressed in what appeared to be animal skins rushed after him. The man made eye contact with Rich and Rich swore that he saw recognition in the man’s eyes. The young lady smiled in recognition of Rich and called to the man in perfect British-accented English, “Look! Here’s Centurion Ri-” before the man shushed her in mid-question and said, also in perfect British-accented English, “Quiet my dear, there are laws of time and space that even I will not break” before grabbing her hand and quickly leading her out of the bar.

Sevilica looked at Rich. “Friends of yours?”

Rich was puzzled. “I have never seen them before in my life.”

Farona had craned her neck to check out the animal-skin-wearing young lady’s shapely ass; and so distracted bumped into one of the green-uniformed aliens staggering back to his table carrying a full glass of synthahol. The synthahol flew all over the alien’s uniform, soaking the symbol emblazoned across his chest. Farona was embarrassed. “Pardon me sir. I apologize. Let me buy you a drink and pay for the cleaning of your uniform.”

The green-uniformed alien appeared to have trouble focusing on Farona as he was quite drunk. “So you are one of the famed Nova Corps and you dare accost me in such a disre- dispre- disrespectful manner.” He swayed and nearly fell but Farona caught him and helped steady him. Sevilica, Corinus, and Rich tensed; as did the three remaining at the table of green-uniformed aliens. Rich donned his helmet; noting that his companions had never removed theirs.

The green-uniformed alien was not ready to accept Farona’s apology. Slurring his words, he said “Corpsman, you defiled my uniform and the schymbol of my people and now you must anscher fur it.” He then began to recite a rhyme. “Through blackest – no darkest day – I mean night — Awww fush it — hav

Nova: The Next Generation

Part Three

Of

The Shi’ar Conflict

Written By: Timelord 9.29.09

Chapter Three: Revelations

Second year Nova Corps Cadet Surfaan Ren swatted at the insects buzzing around his face and ears, cursing his luck once again as he slogged through the fetid muck of the densely foliated swamp while taking care to make as little noise as possible. The camouflage function of his standard Corps cadet uniform would keep him hidden from most active and passive scans; but he knew any noise or environmental disturbance he made could be detected by the d’ast Veradinae Mercenaries that shot his ship down on this smelly, gods-forsaken world. He took grim satisfaction in the knowledge that at least the mercenaries were suffering as well. The Xandarian troop ship had been able to damage the Veradinae Privateer ship enough to bring it down on the planet too. The Veradinae, no doubt under the employ of the Shi’ar, were getting bold – challenging Xandar’s rising influence in Andromeda. The Veradinae Empire would have to be dealt with as soon as issues with the Shi’ar Empire were settled.

Distracted by his thoughts, a misstep caused him to sink hip deep in muck; and he gagged at the smell of methane released from the mud as he attempted to free himself. His actions only caused him to sink further. There was no other choice now. He would have to use his powers to free himself; thereby risking detection.

He checked his HUD. The most recent update from the Worldmind indicated a rescue party was on their way with an ETA of three hours. Surfaan prayed to Frammi that the Xandarians arrived before any Veradinae rescue party. Switching to bio scan, he found the swamp was teeming with life; and some of it appeared to be large and predatory. He decided to give those a wide berth. No indication of intelligent life – but the Veradinae camouflage methods were as effective as those of Xandar; so there was no guarantee the mercenaries weren’t close. Ranked as a second year cadet, he had been given the powers of flight, enhanced strength, and partial invulnerability; but still held only a fraction of the power of even a Millennian-ranked Corpsman; so he was no match for a Veradinae Dragon. He slung his plasma rifle over his shoulder; wishing again that cadet level powers included the ability to produce gravimetric pulses so he wouldn’t have to lug around a weapon as he made his way toward the crash site of the escape pod carrying the remainder of the Star Corps Cadets. Surfaan had been the Nova Corps cadet assigned to a training mission for Star Corps regular cadets. No one had expected to be engaged in actual combat during a routine training mission; particularly since Xandar was not at war with anyone just yet – though relations were supposedly getting tense with the Shi’ar over some ancient territorial claims.

With a final look around, Surfaan used his powers to slowly levitate out of the mire. Once back on solid ground, he ordered the nanites making up his uniform to begin cleaning functions as he slowly resumed his rescue mission.

He had moved less than 100 yards when a proximity alert flashed across his HUD. He froze and powered down his rifle as he flattened his back against a large tree; allowing the camouflage function of his uniform to render him invisible both to visual detection and to scans. His HUD registered two large reptilian life forms nearing his position. Using visual detection only, he caught sight of two Veradinae Dragons approximately 200 feet opposite his position on the other side of a pool of stagnant water. The dragons were bipedal, eight feet tall, and covered head-to-toe with biomantium battle armor. One of the dragons paused as if sensing something. The armored helmet covering its head retracted; revealing the face of Surfaan’s enemy – green scales, rows of serrated biomantium-coated teeth, and the blue head crest of a mercenary field commander. The tattoo under its right eye was the triple-bar symbol of its owner, The Beliim Cartel, the ruling cartel of the Veradinae Empire. The dragon scanned its surroundings; its long forked tongue flicking in and out of its mouth as it tasted the myriad of scents permeating the swamp. For the first time since his unplanned arrival, Surfaan was grateful for the masking stink of the swamp as otherwise the dragon might have detected his scent. Surfaan stood perfectly still as the dragon visually scanned its surroundings; aggressively extending and retracting its biomantium coated claws. For a moment, its eyes seemed to rest on Surfaan’s position; and Surfaan held his breath as the dragon’s nictitating membrane slid across its eyes twice before it shifted its gaze elsewhere. The commanding dragon motioned to the other and they moved off in a direction away from both the encampment of the Star Corps Regulars crash survivors he had already rescued; and the crash site of the last escape pod that was his destination. Surfaan breathed a breath of relief. A Centurion would be hard pressed to deal with two battle-armored Veradinae Dragons. With Cadet-level powers, he would have had no chance. Surfaan waited several long minutes, powering up his HUD and checking to see that the dragons had indeed departed the immediate area before resuming course to the crash site of the last escape pod.

Second Year Nova Corps Cadet Kritana Tas was quickly earning a reputation as a highly skilled pilot. She checked the panels and screens in the cockpit of the troop shuttle. Everything was nominal. ETA at the Orienta Shard was two hours 15 minutes gravimetric. Kritana worked hard to be taken seriously. She always had. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, with a perfect figure and strikingly beautiful features – the tendency for those who didn’t know her was to treat her as mere eye candy and nothing more. A simple background check would prove that Kritana wasn’t just another pretty face. Top of her class while in public education, top of her class in Star Corps basic training, one year of Star Corps service with citations for performance with distinction, first candidate selected for entrance into the Nova Corps Academy one year ago, and first in her class at the Nova Corps Academy. She was only 19 and it was her goal to earn her Centurion Stars before she turned 21.

Kritana glanced at her co-pilot, First Year Cadet Owan Luf. Luf was large-framed, swarthy-skinned, and dark-eyed with a shock of short, straight, dark-brown hair that forever seemed in need of combing. He was a good-natured, gentle giant that she counted among her closest friends. She knew he had feelings for her, but pretended not to notice so as to spare him the disappointment of rejection. He just wasn’t her type for a romantic partner – and besides, she only had eyes for her new lover.

The cockpit door slid open and Third Year Cadet, Millennian Ensicus Bem, eased into the cramped space, pausing as the door snapped shut behind him. Bem was tall, thin, and pale-skinned with blue eyes and blonde hair. He came from a military family with a long history of service to Xandar. He was a bit of a martinet and Kritana avoided his company whenever possible as she found him dreadfully dull. Unfortunately, he was in command of the training exercise the cohort of Nova Corps Cadets had just completed in Andromeda’s neighboring galaxy, The Milky Way. Kritana hadn’t expected to see Bem until close to arrival time on Orienta. Her curiosity was piqued.

Bem cleared his throat. “Tas, Luf – we’ve got a small change of plans. The Worldmind just contacted me. We’ve got a ship down with Cadets being threatened by Veradinae hostiles. Our course puts us close to the planet where the ship went down; so we’re the nearest ship and we can get there faster than anyone else. We’ve been assigned rescue duty. Prepare to exit the wormhole. The Worldmind will form a new stargate to get us where we’re going.”
 

First Year Cadet Sylvia Rider-Dru had turned down the various invitations of the other cadets in the bunk room of the troop ship. She found herself strangely un-interested in participation in gambling, conversation, endorph-vapor, synthahol, sex, and other pastimes that had been offered to her to help while away the time until arrival back at the Orienta Shard. She simply relaxed in her bunk lost in thought and unable to sleep. The Academy was everything everyone said it would be. Her first eight months of basic training had been grueling to say the least. There had been lots of classroom study – both actual and virtual – concerning military strategy, combat techniques, pan-galactic law, diplomacy, Nova Force Theory and application, physics, teamwork, and weapons training. Particular emphasis was placed on analyzing known super-powered foes in the employ of the great powers of the Local Group of Galaxies; and learning how to defeat them. Classroom study hadn’t been her only activity though. Her body was requiring less sleep as she matured. So, she spent time that would normally be devoted to sleep in The Overmind’s tesseract; learning from him how to better control her developing powers. In eight short months he had been able to teach her how to improve her natural abilities to wield Nova Force and how to focus her powers more precisely than before in order to produce more energetic gravimetric pulses as well as sturdier defensive shields. She was now more powerful than a Centurion; but was forbidden to actually use her full powers until such time as she had completed academy training and been promoted to Centurion rank. For now, she was under orders to use nothing more in the way of powers than were allocated to any other Nova Cadet.

Sylvia was looking forward to a well earned week’s liberty now that her first eight months of basic training at the Academy were drawing to a close as capped off by this, her first training mission. She and fifteen other Nova Corps Cadets in her Cohort under command of Millennian Ensicus Bem had participated in joint war games with 30 Star Corps Academy Cadets conducted in the galaxy neighboring Andromeda, the so-called Milky Way Galaxy. It had been several years since she last visited the Milky Way. Her last visit to the Milky Way was a family trip to her father’s homeworld, Earth, to visit her grandparents, Charles and Gloria Rider. Sylvia always found Earth to be a primitive, smelly, backwater planet; but she always enjoyed visiting her human grandparents and she loved seeing her father so filled with joy to be back on Earth for even a short while. For those reasons, she harbored a certain begrudging fondness for The Milky Way.

Concerned by the troubling dreams she was beginning to experience when she did manage to sleep; Sylvia decided to drop in on The Overmind for an unscheduled visit thinking that perhaps The Overmind would have some insight into her dreams. She hit the privacy button in her bunk and patiently waited as the privacy screen fell into place. Now effectively alone, she reached out with her mind and felt her consciousness fading into the white void of The Overmind’s Quantum Realm where she found herself face-to-face with Him.

Haughty as always, The Overmind frowned when she made eye contact with Him. “How easily bored you are little Sylvia – not to mention presumptuous. In the future, you really must call ahead to request an audience with me. These drop-ins are an inconvenience.”

Sylvia smirked and she let her voice drip with sarcasm as she bent at the waist in an exaggerated bow. “O Great Oracle of Xandar, might your unworthy student beg a few nano-seconds of your time?”

He huffed in irritation. “Very well. What do you want now?”

Sylvia found it hard to suppress a smile. She so enjoyed taunting Him as He was just too easily irritated and too easily given to impatience. It was due to His lack of interaction with corporeals of course. In many ways, He was learning from her as much as she was learning from Him. “I’m finding it increasingly difficult to fall asleep and stay asleep – and;” she hesitated, “I’m having strange dreams at times. I don’t understand these dreams. They take place long ago on my father’s homeworld, Earth – and they’re about people I’ve never met and places on Earth I’ve never been. It’s troubling. Can you help?”

He smirked. “Of course I can help. That’s why you bother me incessantly isn’t it?”

Refusing to take the bait and deciding to taunt him some more, Sylvia adopted her most innocent facial expression and tone of voice as she shrugged her shoulders. “Well, if it’s too much trouble, I could always just ask The Worldmind.”

He laughed derisively. “That’s rich sweet Sylvia – a precocious child taking advice from a half-wit automaton. I’m almost tempted to let you do it for the amusement value.”

She grinned. “Almost tempted? That’s what I thought. You wouldn’t dare miss an opportunity to prove your superiority over The Worldmind and me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Do not attempt to goad me whelp. Remember your place and also remember that if The Worldmind is a half-wit; then you are even less. Now, open your mind and prepare to learn.” He touched her forehead.

Sylvia opened her mind to his touch and found herself standing by The Overmind in what appeared to be a large biological structure. Movement was everywhere as organelles performed their functions.

The Overmind’s eyes narrowed once again as He fixed Sylvia in His stern gaze. “Do you recognize this place Sylvia?”

He was testing her – but she had learned better than to state the obvious or just hazard a guess in His presence. She used her powers to reach out and analyze her surroundings – and the answer to His question came to her as it always did when she used her powers of analysis – as intuitive knowledge. The answer was a bit disconcerting; but she quickly recovered. “We’re within a cell. One of my own body cells apparently.”

He smiled. She had passed His test and He was pleased. “Well done for a change little Sylvia. Now, to answer your questions about sleeplessness and dreams, use your powers to enter the nucleus and tell me what you see.”

Sylvia closed her eyes and concentrated, reaching out with her analytic powers and projecting her consciousness into the nucleus of the cell. As she entered the nucleus and moved closer to its center, there was a flurry of activity, culminating in the formation of a female-shaped avatar. As the avatar’s features formed, Sylvia at first thought it was an avatar of herself; but upon closer inspection, it was not her – but a woman who bore a strong resemblance to her. The woman was older – in her mid-thirties at least – blonde haired, sloe-eyed, strikingly exotically beautiful and dressed in the trappings of royalty from Xandar’s distant past. The woman’s eyes were closed. Sylvia tentatively moved closer. As Sylvia approached, the woman’s eyes snapped open; and from the woman’s eyes emanated a blinding light. Sylvia was bathed in the light and overwhelmed by images too numerous to comprehend – love, sorrow, flight, battle, refuge, death. Sylvia reeled from the assault, staggering backwards in confusion, pain, and disorientation. Before being forcibly ejected from the nucleus, Sylvia heard the woman’s voice in her mind – Beware the ancient enemy. Now go. It is not yet time and you are not yet ready.

Sylvia collapsed into the waiting arms of The Overmind, feeling weak and drained of energy to a point such as she had never felt before. Together, she and The Overmind departed her cell and returned to his tesseract where Sylvia quickly felt her energy return.

Her strength renewed, Sylvia roughly pushed away from The Overmind’s embrace, furious with Him. Enraged, she turned to Him, fists formed and barely able to restrain herself from striking Him – fighting back tears as realization dawned. Through clenched teeth she shouted, “How dare you, you son of a schmaug! I was nearly killed! You could have warned me! You could have prepared me! I should never have trusted you!”

For once, His demeanor softened. He appeared almost sad as He quietly said, “Still your rage Sylvia. I could not have prepared you. You had to meet your ancestor and creator, Lady Marz, under these terms. It is the only way you can begin to understand what is happening to you and why.”

Sylvia turned her back on Him and wiped the tears from her eyes, pausing a moment to regain her composure. She didn’t want Him to know how much his seeming betrayal had hurt her. Still angry, she turned back to Him. “Why didn’t you tell me before now? Why couldn’t you have told me what to expect?”

He broke eye contact with her and looked away, appearing genuinely sorry to have done anything to hurt her. All His typical arrogance gone for a moment, He appeared vulnerable for the first time since she had met Him. He shook His head slowly. “There are some things even the gods do not know. Like your geneticists and The Worldmind, even we gods have not been able to divine the mystery of your creation. You are many thousands of years ahead of your time and Lady Marz guarded her secrets well. Even we gods have not been able to approach the nucleus as closely as you just did; so there was no way I could have known what would happen. I had hoped the Lady Marz would admit you and share her secrets.”

Infuriated anew, Sylvia shouted, “So you used me? You’ve been using me from the start to learn this Lady Marz’s secrets? I’m out of here.” Sylvia turned her back to Him and prepared to exit the tesseract.

“Wait!” He commanded.

Sylvia ignored Him and prepared to leave; again fighting back tears.

“Please wait,” He said softly – almost pleadingly; “Let me explain and apologize.”

Something about the tone of His voice caused her to pause. He had never been polite to her before – much less apologetic for any slight He had ever directed at her. She hesitated, feeling her resolve weaken. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, set her jaw, and turned back to Him; looking him straight in the eyes – her anger still smoldering. “I’m waiting,” she snapped.

He looked away for a moment as if at a loss as to what to do next – again showing His lack of familiarity with the ways of corporeals. Deciding on a course of action, He met her eyes. “I apologize. I truly had no idea that you would have such a traumatic experience or I would never have allowed you to visit the nucleus. You are right – I should have been more forthcoming with what little I did know in order to better prepare you for the experience.”

Sylvia breathed a little easier, surprised at the seeming sincerity of His apology and shocked by His admission of having made a mistake. Nevertheless, she was still angry and hurt. “Fine – as far as that goes. Now, tell me why you were manipulating me to get to the secrets of my ancestor. What possible secrets could a corporeal keep from the gods?”

He appeared to relax. “As I told you when we first met, I am a quantum entity. I know much and have great power – so I am a god in comparison to mortals; but I am neither omnipotent nor omniscient. Your ancestor, Lady Marz, divined the secrets of the creators of this universe; and used that knowledge to set in motion events to create you. She deliberately created barriers to keep entities like myself from discovering the secrets of your creation.”

Sylvia was suspicious. “Why would she wish to keep entities like you from learning her secrets?”

He hesitated – then decided to answer. “If the gods exist; does it not stand to reason that the daemons also exist?”

Sylvia held her breath a moment as realization dawned. “The ancient enemy Lady Marz mentioned.”

He nodded affirmatively. “Just so.”

A question nagged at the edge of her mind. “Why have I never heard of such an illustrious ancestor? Who is Lady Marz?”

He was starting to become his typical haughty self again as He realized that Sylvia was beginning to forgive Him. “Lady Marz was Xandar’s greatest geneticist and gene engineer. She fled Xandar during the Xandarian Civil War that brought your royal house to power. Her name and all records of her existence were erased from Xandarian history.”

Sylvia was puzzled. “If she is related to my royal house, why would she flee? House Dru defeated House Tul when my grand-uncle, Ferenus Dru, slew the despot King Sauvinus Tul in individual combat over two thousand years ago.”

“Yes,” he acknowledged her account of history, “But the Civil War lasted many years and the leader of the rebellion against House Tul, Duke Ferenus Dru, was never assured of victory. He rescued his lover, Lady Marz, from House Tul’s captivity and sent her into space to protect her. She disappeared, never to return to Xandar. Her fate was unknown until your father was made a Nova during an emergency deputization to save his homeworld, Earth.”

Sylvia was surprised. “My father’s hybridization is one of Xandar’s greatest mysteries. The Worldmind’s records contained no genetic matches for his Xandarian heritage. You’re saying that Lady Marz is my father’s ancestor?”

The Overmind shook his head affirmatively. “Yes. When your father was deputized, The Worldmind learned of his Xandarian genetic heritage and reported it to King Ferenus. The King ordered all records pertaining to the matter sealed in order to protect your father from the minions of the daemons – those still loyal to House Tul. It is why he was left alone and operational on Earth for so long with no contact from Xandar.”

All the revelations had left Sylvia numb with shock – particularly the knowledge of having another being alive within her. “So, these dreams I’ve been having about ancient peoples and places are the memories of Lady Marz? She was made part of me through my father’s genetic heritage?”

He nodded affirmatively. “Yes. Lady Marz apparently arrived on your father’s homeworld some thousands of years ago and was instrumental in forming one of the great civilizations there. Has your father not spoken to you before of the similarities between Xandar and Rome?”

Sylvia’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “He has – but I suppose everyone thought of it as merely a strange coincidence of parallel social evolution.”

He smirked. “Hardly coincidental.”

Sylvia began to feel anxious. “So what happens to me now? Will Lady Marz continue to grow in power as I grow? Will she take over my body and mind? How do I cope with this?”

He looked exasperated. “I honestly do not know the answer to your questions; and you do not know how much it pains me to admit that. I promise that I will do everything I can to help you – if you will allow it.”

Sylvia looked at him suspiciously. “To be honest, you’ve compromised my trust today. I’m still angry and hurt. I need time away from you to think.”

Sadness clouded his face for a brief moment before he caught himself and returned his expression to impassivity. “I understand. Before you go, let me caution you about your developing powers. As you mature, you will gradually lose your mortal needs for such things as sleep and food. For now though – you must heed the Lady’s warning of readiness and allow your powers to develop naturally. Irreparable harm might be done if you seek to accelerate the process of your evolution.”

Sylvia shook her head affirmatively. “Understood.” She turned away from Him and departed from his tesseract.

He stood and looked at the place where Sylvia had been for several long moments, so distracted by His thoughts that He failed at first to notice the materialization of Ishta, Frammi, and the entire pantheon of gods behind Him.

Frammi spoke for the rest. “Honestly Gamill, how do you abide the prattling of mortals?”

Surprised, He turned to regard the beautiful black-skinned goddess of fortune. “She is more than a mere mortal.”

Frammi sneered. “You always did have a soft spot for mortals – especially the pretty ones. If I didn’t know better, I would think you were developing feelings for the little mortal trollop.” Frammi’s eyes narrowed. “Remember Gamill, she is a means to an end for the gods – a foot soldier in the coming conflict. She may become one of us some day if she survives; but she is not one of us now.”

He was irritated. “Do not lecture me Frammi. I know what I am doing.”

Frammi stepped forward and put her arms around Him; giving Him a passionate kiss. Desire was reflected in Her eyes as She said, “We must all meld into the uni-mind now. We must become one to consider what has transpired and determine what to do next.”

Sylvia’s consciousness re-united with her body in her bunk in the troop ship just in time to hear someone shout, “Commander on deck!”

Sylvia put her recent troubling revelations behind her as she lowered the privacy screen and swung out of her bunk. Dropping to the floor, she immediately rushed into formation with the other cadets and stood at attention as the commanding Millennian, Ensicus Bem, entered the bunk room.

Bem paused a moment, looking at the Cadets. “We’ve got a situation to deal with. One of our ships is down and our people are being harried by hostiles. We’re on a rescue mission now and I need you all to get down to the staging area of the ship and gear up for combat and rescue. We’ve got planetfall in 30 minutes. I’ll brief you on specifics in the staging area. Get moving!”

The cadets scrambled. Before Sylvia could join the other cadets, Bem stepped in front of her. “Not you Dru. I have a special mission for you.”

Nova Corps Cadet Surfaan Ren surveyed the crash site. The 12 Star Corps Cadet regulars had made it to the ground in their damaged escape pod, but just barely. Five of them were too badly injured to travel and a makeshift infirmary had been set up to provide first aid. The other seven cadets were in marching and fighting shape. The conclusion was that they all were going to have to wait for the rescue party to arrive rather than joining the larger group of survivors some ten miles southeast of their current position. Surfaan prayed to the gods that the Veradinae didn’t find them before the rescue party arrived. These Star Corps Cadet regulars had no powers and would stand even less of a chance against the Veradinae than would he.

First Year Star Corps Cadet Vilnius Saan approached Surfaan. “Sir, we’ve finished setting up the defensive perimeter around the escape pod as ordered. All those in fighting shape have been issued plasma rifles. Passive scans show no signs of the enemy.”

Ren shook his head affirmatively. “Good work Saan. Keep a sharp eye out for the enemy. There are at least two of them and they’re hunting for us. No doubt, there’s a bounty for our helmets. If they find us, tell your men to pick out a target and concentrate fire. If we’re able to stop them, that’ll be the only way.”

Saan saluted, “Aye sir,” then rushed off to inform his troops of Ren’s orders.

Ren checked his HUD. The rescue ship was still nearly 45 minutes away. He hoped they’d pick this group up first as they were in far worse shape and far more lightly armed than the larger group. His HUD flashed a proximity warning. Surfaan cursed under his breath. Three enemies were approaching. He quantum linked to Saan. “Tell your men to prepare to engage. We’ve got three enemies approaching. Remember what I said about concentrating fire. I’m going to go out and try to draw them away to buy you time enough for the rescue ship to arrive.”

The Xandarian troop ship exited the Stargate Terminus and effortlessly inserted itself into orbit. A hatch opened in the belly of the ship and the lone figure of Nova Corps Cadet Sylvia Rider-Dru streaked out, power diving for the surface of the planet.

Sylvia checked her HUD. The troop ship was receding, preparing to land near the coordinates of the larger group of Xandarians to be rescued. Sylvia had been given special orders from The Worldmind to use as much of her power as necessary to complete this mission successfully; and had been assigned rescue of the smaller group of survivors. Her HUD pinpointed the coordinates of the survivors. It was her mission to secure the area and prepare the survivors for extraction by the troop ship. Her HUD flashed a warning. The survivors were under attack. Clenching her jaw in frustration, she increased speed to maximum and dived into the atmosphere, not even attempting stealth in her approach to the battle. The events of the day had been terribly frustrating and upsetting to her; and all she really wanted to do was hit something as hard as she could. She resolved that if even one Xandarian had been harmed by the d’ast Veradinae; they better pray to their gods to save them from her wrath.

Surfaan stood still with his back against the tree trunk, waiting for the Veradinae Dragon to approach his position. The camouflage function of his uniform helped him blend in to the tree trunk. He hoped Xandarian stealth tech was better than Veradinae detection tech. He held his breath as the lead dragon approached his position. He could hear them approaching, not even attempting stealth. They knew the Xandarians were under-powered and would be easily overcome. They were over-confident; and that could be used against them.

As the lead dragon stepped near Surfaan’s position, Surfaan stepped out from the tree and with all his might smashed the butt of his rifle into the armored head of the dragon, shattering the stock of the rifle. The dragon staggered backwards, momentarily stunned, leaving its neck exposed long enough for Surfaan to jam the barrel of the rifle under the dragon’s chin and fire the entire charge of the weapon at once. The resulting explosion took the dragons head off; and threw Surfaan twenty feet through the air, where he landed roughly on the ground, stunned and momentarily disoriented.

Shaking his head, Surfaan looked up from the ground where he lay, recovering just in time to see another dragon leaping through the air directly toward him. Scrambling and activating his flight function, he scooted clear of his landing spot and slammed into a tree just as the dragon landed where he had been lying just a moment before. The dragon extended its claws and prepared to jump at him again. Screaming in rage and terror, Surfaan drew his sidearm, pointed it at the dragon, and squeezed the trigger; instantly pumping one-hundred rounds of adamantium pellets into the Veradinae.

The Veradinae froze and lowered his gaze to his chest from whence poured thick green blood from numerous gaping holes in his armor. The dragon made eye contact with Surfaan; then fell face first to the ground.

Surfaan stood, eyes wide with surprise that he was still alive as he stared at the projectile handgun. “Fark me. I didn’t think this thing could bring down a dragon.” His head snapped up as he heard a hiss. In the excitement, he had forgotten about the third dragon. It was leaping straight for him. He raised his sidearm and squeezed the trigger. It was empty. Surfaan screamed and turned to flee; expecting the dragon to land right on top of him – but then a blur of navy and gold snatched the dragon out of the air in mid-flight and smashed it against an outcropping of rock. The rock was pulverized and the stunned dragon struggled to its feet just in time for a female in the navy and gold uniform of a Nova Corps Cadet to land about ten feet in front of it and begin blasting away at the energy and projectile weapons attached to its armor.

Surfaan watched in stunned silence as the dragon reeled from the barrage of gravimetric pulses; but kept its feet. Satisfied that the dragon was now bereft of all external weapons, the Cadet stopped the barrage and faced the dragon; removing her helmet and tossing it to the ground. Surfaan was able to confirm what he already knew once he saw the lovely features and the raven hair of Cadet Sylvia Rider-Dru. He had never been introduced to her and did not know her personally; but everyone knew of her and who else could it have been? Surfaan listened closely as he saw that she was saying something to the dragon.

Sylvia looked at the dragon standing ten feet in front of her. The dragon retracted its helmet; and Sylvia could see that it sported the blue head crest of a mercenary field commander and had a tattoo under its eye indicating that it was owned by the Beliim Cartel. Still angry from the events of earlier in the day, Sylvia needed to vent her rage and a good fight was just what she was looking for. She sneered at the dragon. “What are you waiting for you schlag eating lizard? I thought you mother farkers preferred a good fight up close and personal.”

Needing no further challenge, the dragon roared and leapt; extending its claws and baring its teeth. Sylvia took flight, meeting the dragon in mid air – avoiding a vicious swipe of its claws and landing a mighty punch to its jaw that sent it reeling head over heels to land roughly on its hands and knees. Shaking its head to recover from the blow, it attempted to stand; but Sylvia landed in front of it and kicked it in the face, knocking it onto its back.

“Is this the best the mighty and feared Veradinae Dragons can do?” Sylvia taunted. “I’m surprised anyone pays you purries to fight for them.”

Overconfident, Sylvia strayed close to the dragon. The dragon sprang to its feet and took a vicious swipe at Sylvia, attempting to cut her in half at the waist. Sylvia reacted quickly, stepping to the side and barely avoiding his biomantium-coated claws. He was able to attack faster and recover quicker than Sylvia had anticipated. She would not make the mistake of underestimating him again.

Sylvia gave the dragon a toothy grin to taunt it further. “That’s more like it. At least make this a challenge for me.”

The dragon’s eyes narrowed as it began to circle Sylvia warily. “I will dine on your still living flesh and when you beg me for a quick death to end your suffering; I will only act to prolong your agony.”

Sylvia smirked. “The Beliim Family is making their dragons as weak as they are dumb.”

The dragon roared and rushed toward Sylvia. Sylvia dodged his attack, stepped behind him, and smashed the power pack to his biomantium armor with a well placed punch. Being lighter weight and cheaper to produce, biomantium was almost as tough a metal as adamantium; but it had two weaknesses. First, it had to be in physical contact with a biological organism to produce the natural force field that gave it its wearer partial invulnerability; and second, it had to have a steady power supply to maintain the force field. Sylvia deprived the armor of its power supply; thus making the dragon more vulnerable.

The dragon was enraged, reacting faster that Sylvia expected. It pivoted and attacked; its claws penetrating Sylvia’s natural shields and her armor, inflicting deep cuts to her back as she attempted to twist away; and again to her torso as she turned to face the dragon. Before Sylvia could react, the dragon ended its attack with a savage kick to her torso, knocking the air out of her lungs and throwing her, stunned, fifty feet into the swamp where she landed in a pool of shallow brackish water.

Sylvia shook her head and fought to regain her breath. She had never been hit so hard when she had fought dragons in simulation. She began to re-think the wisdom of challenging an actual dragon to a bare knuckled fight.

Sylvia’s natural senses gave her a proximity warning; but before she could move, the dragon landed on top of her, its massive clawed feet pushing her beneath the brackish, stinking pool of water. Sylvia’s mouth filled with the fetid water, causing her to gag and struggle to keep the water out of her lungs as the dragon extended its claws and penetrated her flesh. Cursing herself for removing her helmet at the start of the fight – a helmet that would have instantly kept her air supplied – she felt fear. She had been too cocky and – though tough – she was realizing that she was not indestructible. Her fear quickly gave way to her Rider-inherited rage and she formed a radiative aura gravimetric pulse. The explosion sent the stunned dragon airborne along with a large portion of the flora of the surrounding swamp.

Sylvia struggled to her feet, then immediately doubled over and wretched, evacuating the nasty water from her mouth and lungs. She was bleeding, covered in muck, her hair was filthy and plastered to her head, she stank, and she felt pain from multiple wounds where the dragon’s claws had penetrated her shields and uniform armor. The nanites composing her uniform quickly moved to bind her wounds, repair and clean her body and uniform, and enhance her healing; and she could feel her natural healing factor kicking into overdrive. Sylvia felt a cold burning hatred. She had intended to merely beat the dragon into senselessness when she challenged it to fight. Now, there was no way it was walking away alive.

Using her natural senses, she located the dragon struggling to its feet where it had landed some 30 yards away. Her senses gave her a mental picture of the dragon. Its armor in tatters from absorbing the gravimetric explosion, it was bleeding from several wounds and was obviously shaken; but she knew it would recover and come after her again. It would not stop until one of them was dead.

Taking flight, Sylvia covered the distance in seconds, smashing into the dragon’s torso and driving it to the ground. With all her might, she struck the stunned dragon in the mouth, knocking out its fangs and several rows of serrated teeth. The dragon struggled to maintain consciousness and raised its arms to attack. Sylvia burned one of its arms off with a gravimetric pulse; then twisted and tore the other arm off at the elbow. Heedless of the dragon’s screams of pain, Sylvia used the dragon’s severed arm as a blunt instrument, pummeling its head with all her might until all that remained was a bloody pulp and the mighty dragon lay still and dead.

Her rage abated and her bloodlust sated, Sylvia dropped the dragon’s severed arm onto its lifeless chest. Catching movement from the corner of her eye, she wheeled and prepared to fire a gravimetric pulse.

Surfaan Ren yelled, “Hey, don’t shoot – I’m a friendly!”

Sylvia stood down and walked over to the young man.

Surfaan handed Sylvia her helmet. “You dropped this back there.”

Sylvia took the helmet. It collapsed at her touch and she tucked it into her belt. “Thanks.”

Admiration was reflected in Surfaan’s eyes. “Gods-d’ast! I’ve never seen a fight like that! I thought you were crazy as grat schlag to challenge a dragon to a bare knuckled fight – but you did it and won!” He shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. “By the way, thanks for saving my ass over there.” He gestured over his back with his thumb to a spot where lay the corpse of the dragon he had shot.

Sylvia made a point of craning her neck to examine his ass. “How could I let a cute ass like that go to waste? Besides, I do like a screamer – more so in the bedroom than on the battlefield though.”

Surfaan had always liked girls who could hang with the guys; so he laughed at her good natured ball busting. “Ah – I see you mistook my family’s ancient battle cry as a scream of terror.”

Remaining deadpan, Sylvia observed, “So your family’s battle cry is a high-pitched little-girlish ‘Ahhhhhhh’ whilst rapidly fleeing from the battlefield?”

Surfaan shook his head negatively, adopting a look of absolute seriousness. “No. I was saying ‘victorie‘ in the ancient language. What you heard was me shouting ‘vict-ahhhhhhhh-rie’as I lead the unsuspecting dragon to his doom in a trap I had prepared for him in the swamp.”

Sylvia shook her head affirmatively. “Oh, I see. My mistake. You did good out there, taking out two dragons all by yourself.”

Surfaan grinned. “Thanks. My name’s Surfaan Ren.”

She smiled at him. “Sylvia Rider-Dru.”

He laughed. “I know. Like you need an introduction. I’ve heard of you. Everyone’s heard of you.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’ve heard of you too. I’ve heard you’re quite the womanizer.”

Surfaan adopted his most innocent look. “Vicious lies and rumors spread by those who would seek to discredit me. Believe no rumor you’ve ever heard about me.”

Sylvia looked disappointed. “The rumor I heard was that you were a pretty good fark. I’d planned to check it out for myself; but since you say not to believe any of the rumors, I guess there’s no need.”

Exasperated, Surfaan grimaced and raised a hand in a gesture of defense – stammering, “Now, that particular rumor you can believe – but none of the rest are true.”

Her eyes flicked below his waistline for a moment. “So I shouldn’t believe the rumor that you have a very large–.”

Surfaan interrupted. “That one’s true too. You can believe the rumor about the size of my culk.”

“Ego,” she deadpanned.

Puzzled and flustered he could only manage an anemic “What?”

“I was going to say ‘ego.’ I haven’t heard any rumors about your culk size. But – thanks for the unsolicited information. I’ll keep it in mind.” She smiled sweetly and flicked her eyes below his waistline once again as she donned her helmet and turned to head in the direction of the survivor camp.

Embarrassed and humiliated, Surfaan decided to try a last ditch save effort. “You know, normally I make a much better first impression than this. Can we start over? Hi, my name is Surfaan Ren.”

Sylvia wheeled and shouted, “Look out!” as she took flight and pushed Surfaan aside and to the ground.

Several projectiles landed where Surfaan had stood just a moment before. The dragon that he had shot was apparently not quite dead.

Surfaan rolled to cover, fumbling to reload his handgun. He peeked out from his cover in time to see the dragon on its knees shakily aiming a projectile weapon in his direction. Then, Sylvia landed behind the dragon, grabbed its head, and savagely twisted it – instantly breaking its neck. The dragon fell heavily to the ground – certainly dead this time.

Neither Surfaan nor Sylvia had time to gloat. Their HUD’s began flashing proximity warnings.

Surfaan could hear Sylvia shouting into the quantum link, “Kritana! We need extraction now! We’ve got seventeen dragons heading our way!”

Not waiting for a reply from the troop ship, Sylvia and Surfaan made eye contact for a moment – then as one they took flight and made for the survivor encampment. Words were not necessary to convey what they both already knew. They might go down; but Nova Corpsmen never went down without a fight – and Corpsmen always fought to the last man.
 

Come back next week for Part 4 of The Shi’ar Conflict – and yes, there will be Shi’ar in Part 4; and one of them is named Gladiatrix. See you next time!
 

Nova: The Next Generation

Part Two

of

The Shi’Ar Conflict

Written By: Timelord 9.13.09

Chapter Two: Quantum Realm Solace

As evening fell on Nu-Xandar, Sylvia could see Tranta’s last rays glancing off the Torus as she boarded the mag-lev train to the alien sector of Nu-Orienta City. As always when night fell, her gaze was drawn to the sky. The Orienta Shard shone as the brightest heavenly body. No matter how many times she visited the shard, she never grew tired of it. Soon it would be her new home for the foreseeable future. Sylvia closed her eyes and imagined it parked in its Libration Point between Nu-Xandar and Tranta, spinning slowly and keeping protective vigil over the fledgling planet, Nu-Xandar. The academy beckoned and tomorrow she would answer its call, take up residence on the Orienta Shard, and begin her new life as a Nova Cadet. Tonight though, was her last night of freedom and she planned to enjoy it to the fullest. Her father had been particularly tough on her over the past week and she needed time to relax and unwind.

She caught site of her reflection in the window of the mag-lev. Raven haired, dark brown eyes, shapely athletic body barely covered in her sexiest shear white micro-mini dress with a plunging neckline highlighting her perfect breasts; she was satisfied that she had made the right selection of attire for the night’s activities.

The mag-lev stopped at the station and Sylvia’s spirits rose upon seeing her cousin, Proculus, waiting for her with their mutual friends, Augustus and Celena. Proculus was tall with curly brown hair and brown eyes. He was clean shaven with an athletic body and handsome features inherited from his mother, Queen Adora. Augustus and Celena were black-skinned with dark eyes and curly black hair. They stood close and couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. Lately, they had become more than friends.

Smiling broadly, Sylvia was the first off the train, giving Proculus a quick kiss on the cheek in greeting and hugging Augustus and Celena. Some of the other passengers stared at Proculus and Sylvia as they passed by; recognizing two of Nu-Xandar’s celebrities, The Prince of Xandar and The Countess of Sura. Those that recognized them gave the sign of fealty. However, recognition was the last thing Sylvia wanted. Her only desire was for an evening of anonymous fun with her friends. She wanted to at least temporarily forget about her miserable day and the changes in her life that tomorrow would bring. The four friends blended into the crowd, joking and making small talk as they meandered toward their destination, the Mercurio Pleasure Club.

Nu-Xandar’s new Capital, Nu-Orienta City, was bustling and growing rapidly as Nu-Xandar’s influence and power grew throughout Andromeda. Business, industry, and residential districts were under construction everywhere. The layout of the city mirrored the traditional Xandarian model as exemplified by the Orienta Shard’s Orienta City. The Xandarians tended to keep to themselves; and the alien cultures formed their own district. The Xandarians mostly turned a blind eye to the activities in the so-called alien sector; though many visited the area for recreational opportunities officially frowned upon by proper Xandarian culture. Club Mercurio was officially frowned upon by proper Xandarian culture.

Club Mercurio was the newest, largest, and most popular of the pleasure clubs. Ten stories tall and gleaming in artificial illumination, it stood out in stark contrast to all the new construction surrounding it. It offered all the sensual delights of a galaxy class spa, able to provide services to please all known species which might partake of its amenities. As such, the line at the door was quite long.

Sylvia gave Proculus a questioning look. “Wasn’t your friend, Aristus, supposed to meet us here?”

Proculus nodded. “He’s already inside.”

Sylvia looked at the line. “We’ll be hours getting in if we have to wait in line and I have to be home by midnight. I know you don’t like to do this but what say for once we give up our futile attempt at anonymity and use our celebrity to get in quicker?”

Proculus grimaced in mock disapproval, then smiled. “All right. Just this once though and just because you’re going away tomorrow.”

They made their way to the celebrity entrance where they were immediately recognized as four members of Xandarian royal society and granted entrance into the club. The party atmosphere of the club was intoxicating – no doubt helped by the deafening music and the cloud of endorph vapor that constantly fell from above. The four friends were escorted to a VIP table where they ordered shots of synthahol and vials of concentrated endorph-vapor. Sylvia had not visited the club for several weeks and looked around to see what was new as the décor was constantly changing and as new amenities were constantly being added. She spied Aristus leaving the dance floor and approaching their table. The handsome blonde-haired blue-eyed young man went straight to Proculus, greeting him with a passionate kiss. Aristus was Proculus’ newest lover. Sylvia smiled and wondered how long this “relationship” would last; as most of Proculus’ relationships lasted little more than a month.

The shots and vapors arrived; and Proculus stood, raising his glass to make a toast. “To my dearest cousin Sylvia, Countess of Sura – and tomorrow bearer of a new title: Nova Corps Cadet First Class. All Xandar takes pride in your accomplishment; and on a personal note – both we and all the regular patrons of this club will miss you terribly.” Everyone at the table laughed and downed their shots. Proculus waved for another round to be brought to their table before taking his seat next to Sylvia.

Sylvia turned and hugged Proculus. “I’m going to miss you more than anyone.”

Proculus’ eyes glistened. “I don’t think we’ve ever gone more than a few days without seeing each other since we were children. I don’t know if I can stand to be without my best friend for the eight months you’re precluded from having visitors.”

It was Sylvia’s turn to fight back tears. “Well, maybe you can make another exception to your rule about not using your Princely status to manipulate things and come see me. Maybe a surprise inspection of your troops would be in order?”

Proculus nodded. “Maybe it would. In any case, you may expect me to abuse my rank to get both myself and your parents front row seats at your graduation ceremony. But enough of this sadness I say. Let’s celebrate.” Popping the lid off his endorph-vapor vial, Proculus inhaled deeply before passing it to Aristus. Celena, Augustus, and Sylvia shared the other vial; and soon all sadness was replaced with euphoria.

The shots and vials continued to flow; with everyone becoming more relaxed and disinhibited. Removing their shirts, Proculus and Aristus went to the dance floor; and Celena and Augustus began to snuggle up. Despite the effects of all the nanite-bonded chemicals; Sylvia began to feel more and more like a fifth wheel. Like Proculus, her relationships tended to be short-lived; and she currently had no steady lover. She started as she looked out over the dance floor, catching site of Him.

Celena noticed Sylvia’s reaction. “What is it Syl?”

Sylvia shrugged. “Nothing. I just thought I saw Him again.”

Celena smirked. “Him again? The drop-dead handsome young man with the curly black hair that you get glimpses of, have dreams about, and get all wet about; and that none of the rest of us have ever caught sight of in all the time we’ve known you?”

Sylvia laughed. “Don’t start. I know what I saw and I think He was heading for The Maze.”

Augustus smiled salaciously as Sylvia got up from the table and steadied herself, still slightly dizzy from the vapors and shots. “Well, good hunting then.”

Sylvia made her way through the throngs of milling and dancing people; occasionally catching brief sight of her quarry, only to have Him disappear in the crowd. When she arrived at the entrance to The Maze, He was nowhere to be seen. She was determined to finally meet Him and, willing her clothes into her personal tesseract, strode headlong into The Maze. The Maze was literally a large, darkened, maze-like structure with an aphrodisiac-laced atmosphere. It was where people came to experience anonymous sensual pleasures with others; the extremely dim lighting making the identity of other participants difficult to ascertain. One entered The Maze unclothed and experienced the Maze through touch rather than sight.

The Maze was filled to capacity and pitch dark as usual. No problem for Sylvia as she could “see” in any spectrum she desired. She decided to hedge her bets and use her night vision to find Him in the crowd of bodies caressing and pleasuring each other. The aphrodisiac-laced atmosphere of The Maze began to affect her; slowing her progress as she willingly partook of the sensual pleasures surrounding her – caressing and being caressed; kissing and being kissed – though she eschewed all invitations for more intimate contact as she searched for Him. She spied Him – back turned to her so she couldn’t be sure; but he had the right body and the long, black, curled hair – it had to be Him. She approached Him and put her arms around Him. He turned. It was not Him. It was, however, a very handsome man; and Sylvia could no longer deny her aphrodisiac enhanced desires. She kissed him deeply. His mouth tasted of synthahol and his skin of salt from sexual heat. She burned with desire for the pleasures of his body as he held her against his rock hard chest. She felt a woman’s soft body press against her from behind and begin to caress her breasts. Twisting her head, she found herself in the embrace of a beautiful young blonde woman. She kissed the woman deeply as the man kissed and caressed her breasts, her abdomen, her thighs – and began intimate exploration with his tongue. Running her hands through his hair and pressing his head into her; her breathing became heavy and she moaned in pleasure with each stroke of his skilled tongue. Sylvia abandoned her night vision and surrendered herself to the anonymous sensual pleasures of the maze. The tensions of the day dissipated in erotic bliss as she and her two lovers melted together – each bringing the other to multiple heights of passion and release over the next few hours. Finally sexually satiated, they retreated to a corner of the maze where they could rest and recover in the comfort of each other’s arms.

Eyes at half-mast and feeling physically spent from the combined effects of the previous days of combat training and this night’s regimen of synthahol, endorph-vapor, aphrodisiacs, and sex; Sylvia found it hard to keep a smile off her face as she now felt more relaxed and carefree than she had in days. “Mmmmm – thanks you two. That was just what I needed.”

The woman smiled. “The pleasure was all ours Contessa.”

Sylvia smiled back wickedly as she realized she had been recognized. “Don’t you believe it.”

Taking her leave from The Maze, Sylvia made her way into the spa, intending to shower, rest a short time, then catch up with her friends to report that once again He had eluded her. As she passed by a large zero-g group sex room, she caught sight of Celena and Augustus preparing to enter along with about thirty other couples.

Celena waved from the crowd. “Come join us in here.”

Sylvia waved back. “I will as soon as I’ve showered and freshened up.”

Sylvia made her way to the shower room and stepped under the stinging spray, basking in the heat of the hot flowing water and letting it wash away the last of her week’s tensions. She closed her eyes and thought of Him, frustrated that she had once again failed to meet Him and thinking it strange how she longed for a man she had only glimpsed in dreams and crowds and shadows. As she indulged her deep longing for Him, she realized she could no longer hear or feel the shower; or hear the bustle and noise of the multitude of others enjoying the amenities of the club. Her eyes snapped open and she found herself in a white void.

He stood before her – a handsome young man with curly black hair and deep, black eyes wearing white form-fitting clothes that showed off a perfect body – just like in her dreams and her brief glimpses of Him. He was the most handsome man she had ever beheld and she immediately felt desire for Him. She also noticed for the first time that He bore a striking resemblance to a depiction she had seen before. She was dumbstruck into silence as she considered the implications.

He beheld her for a long minute before finally speaking. “You should not be here.”

She found her voice. “What? Who are you? Where is this?”

He shook His head. “You are not ready to be here. You must go back now.”

Sylvia was both un-nerved and irritated. “Fine. How do I do that?”

“The same way you arrived – by wanting it desperately enough. Now go. I will invite you to visit again when you are ready.” He turned his back on her and made to leave.

Sylvia was angry now and began to build a gravimetric pulse. “Don’t you give me curtly cryptic answers and turn your back on me you son of a schmaug! You will properly address my questions!”

He wheeled back around to face Sylvia, seething in anger, energy arcing across his body and flashing in his eyes. “Precocious child! Do not even think of summoning your power here! You know not what you do. The consequences could be devastating to all you hold dear!”

They paused a moment – eyes locked, each taking the measure of the other. They both stood down; but continued to stare at each other warily.

He shook his head, breaking the tension. “I had hoped you would not inherit your father’s stubbornness and obstinacy; but I see my hopes were in vain.”

Sylvia was surprised. “You know my father?”

He smiled. “Yes – I know him well and I love him dearly; though he does not know me.”

Sylvia was feeling irritated again. “Straight answers seem to elude you sir; so let me ask you directly once more – just who the fark are you? Why do I see you in my dreams? Why were you at the pleasure club tonight? Why have you brought me here?”

“You should not be here and it is too soon for you to know the answers to all those questions.” He broke eye contact and smirked as He looked her up and down. “And you are out of uniform.”

Sylvia had not noticed that she was still nude until he pointed it out. Refusing to be daunted, she set her jaw and clenched her fists, readying for a fight. “Are you going to answer my questions or not?”

He looked exasperated. “I don’t suppose you will leave without an altercation if I don’t answer your questions?”

She stared at Him in response.

He shook His head. “I thought not. Ask your questions.”

She considered her options. “The first logical question is: Where am I?”

He smirked. “You could use your powers to figure that out – but to answer your question; you are within what you would understand to be a pocket dimension or a tesseract – though I prefer the term quantum realm.”

She reached out tentatively with her powers to gather information. “This place resembles the Worldmind’s tesseract. How did I get here?”

He sighed. “By wanting to be here. Your innate powers allow your consciousness to travel to this realm.”

She was beginning to understand. “Are you a quantum entity like the Worldmind?”

He laughed. “Sweet Sylvia, I am the Xandarian Worldmind.”

It was Sylvia’s turn to smirk. “I’ve met the Worldmind; and you look, act, and talk nothing like him. Also, the Worldmind and my father are well-acquainted; but you claimed that my father does not know you. I have no idea how I got here; but I assure you I did not bring myself here. You sir, are a liar.”

He laughed, “Your impudence is most amusing – do keep it up,” He said as He morphed into the familiar figure of the Worldmind Avatar. With the Worldmind’s voice – albeit in a mocking tone – he said, “Nova Corps Cadet First Class Sylvia Rider-Dru, it is critical that you pay attention at this time.” Then keeping the appearance of the Worldmind Avatar, but switching back to His voice, “I have spoken nothing but the truth to you since you arrived in this realm.”

Sylvia had lingering doubts. “I remain unconvinced of your identity. If you are the Worldmind, you must comply with the lawful commands of a duly authorized corporeal Xandarian. As the Countess of Sura, I have repeatedly given you orders and you have demonstrated a level of independence exceeding that explicitly programmed into the Worldmind.”

He seemed to find Sylvia’s observation amusing. “The Worldmind you and the rest of Xandar know is but a small part of me – the part that can be accessed and controlled by your technology. I am so much greater than that. The part of the Worldmind you know must obey your lawful commands as it is linked to your technology. I am not so constrained. In fact, I purposely keep the Worldmind unaware of my existence. He is new to existence as a facet of the greater quantum entity. Given more time, he will come to learn what he is. As of now, he is constrained by his own childish ignorance – much like you.”

She let the insult slide and held her breath for a second before her next question. “You bear a striking resemblance to ancient depictions of the Xandarian God of War, Gamill. Are you Gamill? Are you a god?”

He seemed to ponder the question for a moment before deciding to answer it. He morphed back into the form of the handsome young man. “I am Gamill.” He morphed into the familiar form of the lovely black-skinned goddess of fortune, Frammi. “I am also Frammi.” He morphed into the familiar form of the red-headed goddess of love, Ishta. “I am Ishta.” He rapidly morphed into the entire Xandarian pantheon of gods and goddesses before coming full circle to the form of the Xandarian Worldmind and then, once again, Gamill. “I am all the rest. We are all facets of the greater quantum entity.”

She was stunned, having never truly believed in the existence of the gods. “So, you are a god.”

He shrugged. “What is a god? Is a god not merely a being with vastly greater mental and physical abilities than you possess yourself? Would not primitive beings believe you were a god?”

“If being tiresome and obtuse in answering simple questions are godly traits; I would say you are at least worthy of consideration of the title” Sylvia observed dryly. “Why appear to me in the form of Gamill?”

He responded to her sarcasm with a barb of His own. “At last – an intelligent question. The populace of Xandar sees the Worldmind with whom they are familiar as a formal, wizened old man as that is their subconscious conception of how a god should look and act. You, on the other hand, see me as a peer; as this is your subconscious conception of how your perfect peer should look and act. In fact, you see me as the War God, Gamill, as you are a true warrior. One day when your powers are fully developed we will be peers. Right now, you are no more than an adept.”

Sylvia was starting to be convinced. She felt solace here in this realm as if she belonged here; and as she used her powers to tentatively scan the physical properties of her surroundings, she realized that this entity was speaking truly. One question nagged at her consciousness. “Why have I seen you in my dreams and caught glimpses of you since I was a child? Why reveal yourself to me now?”

He nodded, appearing to be pleased with her question. “As a quantum entity, I am everywhere on Xandar at once. With your developing powers, you can see me anywhere you like if you concentrate. Though you don’t consciously realize it, you have attempted to contact me intermittently since the very moment of your conception. I have rebuffed each of your attempts as you are not ready to be here. You brought yourself here uninvited and have refused to leave despite my numerous reasonable requests. I did not ‘reveal’ myself to you. You intruded.”

She refused to let one nagging question remain unanswered. “Why not reveal yourself to all of Xandar?”

He frowned. “It is not yet time to do such a thing. One day, over the course of time, all Xandarians will be able to ascend to this realm to become part of the greater quantum entity. You are the beginning of that evolution of your species and you already know how some have reacted. You have experienced their fear of your unique gifts. Some would seek to accelerate the evolution of your species and some would seek to retard it if the outcome was widely known. Nothing must be done to influence the natural evolution of your species. So, for now, the gods must remain quaint and fanciful ideas in the minds of all Xandarians, revealing themselves only to those unique individuals with special gifts who may advance the evolution of your species in accordance with the plans of the greater quantum entity. You are such an individual as others have been over the millennia. Through you and your unique gifts, I have a physical gateway into your corporeal world that I otherwise would not have. I cannot directly intervene in your corporeal world except through you – and you cannot speak of my existence to anyone else. You now know why. It could adversely affect the evolution of your species.”

Sylvia smirked. “If I told anyone else I was conversing with the gods, they would think I was insane. You have nothing to fear. Your secret is safe with me.”

He seemed satisfied. “There is hope for you yet, sweet Sylvia.”

“So am I invited back here to learn from you how to wield my developing powers? Am I ready yet O wise one?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm. “By the way, what do you call yourself?”

He paused before answering. “I answer to many names as you now know – and I cannot stop you from returning any time you wish. However, you are welcome back in my realm; and I will help you learn to control your powers.”

She stopped to consider all she had learned. “I’m not comfortable referring to you as Gamill or any of the other gods – and clearly you are something over and above the Worldmind. How about if I call you ‘The Overmind?’ Would that be acceptable?”

He nodded. “Yes, but go now back to your pleasures of the flesh. You should enjoy them while you still can. Some day such pleasures will exist for you only as memories.”

Sylvia blinked and found herself back in the shower room; only a few seconds having passed since she ‘left.’ She quickly dried herself and made her way to the zero-gee room to find Augustus and Celena. Based on what she had learned of the Quantum Realm, she decided to heed the Overmind’s advice regarding enjoying the pleasures of the flesh while she still could. It would put her getting home past her mother’s midnight curfew; but she would deal with that later.

________________________________________

Come back next week for Part 3 of The Shi’ar Conflict to follow Sylvia on her first adventure as a Nova Corps Cadet.