She nodded and then moved on. Steve Rogers looked back at the men standing in the command center. Gladiator, Ronan, Kl’rt, and Annihilus.
“You didn’t have to…” Words were failing him. “What I mean is, I want to thank you all for this.”
“Thank us when we’ve earned it, human.” Kl’rt smiled at him. It wasn’t an expression he’d ever seen before on the warlord. “What good is effort if we fail? Do best efforts soak up the blood and bury the fallen?”
Kl’rt spread his arms and gestured toward the battle being waged just outside. There were warriors from all of their races fighting together, against a single enemy. There had been times when none of them would have thought it possible.
“If beaten, who remembers the conquered, Captain America? Not I. So save your thanks until we stand over the broken bodies of our enemies. Save them until we’ve won.”
* * *
BLACK DWARF heard the voices outside his command center. They were spoken softly, but his hearing was sharp.
“We should be able to use any of the access panels on the command level.” The voice seemed to be female. “So, kiddo, what level is this?”
Whoever responded was male. “I’m pretty sure Eden put us right where we need to be, Widow.”
Moving quickly for his size, Black Dwarf threw open the command center’s door and saw three humans. A pale woman with red hair, a darker male with wild hair, and a male who looked directly at him as he moved into the hall.
“Look out!” the male said. Black Dwarf swatted the woman aside. She tried to dodge but was caught off guard. The blow sent her crashing into the wall.
He loomed over the remaining two and sneered. “As I expected… like thieves in the night. Like cowards afraid of your own shadows.” The female was already back on her feet. He was suitably impressed—he had not pulled his punch. Anyone slower would have been paste along the wall.
“You sneak in here to shame me once again,” he continued. His hatred for the humans was a growing thing. The loss of his honor was a cancer, and one he intended to cut out. “You’ll find the Black Dwarf hardier than that. More than enough for you to choke on.” With that, he launched himself against the intruders.
“Manifold!” the woman cried out. “Get back to the ship. Tell them we’re not going to get the field down in time.” As she spoke she fired four projectile rounds into the warriors standing closest to him, and they died on the spot. She then tested her firearm against Black Dwarf ’s hide, and he smiled as the bullets bounced back.
“Bring backup!”
The one with the wild mane of hair disappeared. Black Dwarf scowled and swung at her, but she dodged successfully.
“Bring your reinforcements! I will kill all of them, too!”
* * *
EDEN FESI reappeared where he had last seen Captain America. Instead of the leader of the Avengers, he stared at the commanders of four empires.
“Critical harm to the Benevolence. Pulling the carrier back.” That one was Ronan the Accuser. He spoke to the leader of the Shi’ar.
“Heavy losses on the right flank. I’m sending in three heavy frigates.” That was the Super-Skrull.
“Should have let me bring drones.” The nightmare with the vast demonic wings and the green head was Annihilus. He spoke and his voice sounded like the angry buzz of hornets. “They’re good for fighting. Good for dying. Good for blockades and for sacrifices.”
“Hold.” Gladiator spoke, and for a brief moment Manifold allowed himself to be stunned by them. They were legends, and he was just Eden Fesi. “The humans will succeed in bringing down the station. It’s their world they’re fighting for. They have to win.”
“No,” Eden said, and the commanders turned, suddenly aware of his presence. “Have they already left? They have, haven’t they?”
“They have.” Ronan stepped closer. “Why are you here, and not on the station?”
“Uhhh… little problem.” He bit back the part of his voice that wanted to laugh. It wasn’t humor, it was hysteria, and he knew the difference. “One of Thanos’ generals is there. We’re not going to be able to gain control of the Peak quickly enough. They’ll all get hammered going through the kill zone.
“What should we do?”
* * *
“WHY DO you keep standing, little one?” He stared at the male. The female was still up, as well, but she was wounded. He had hit her enough times to kill, but like the male she moved and brushed aside the worst of his attacks.
Black Dwarf did not duck or avoid blows. He thought he might have to examine their methods more carefully, later. For now he just wanted them dead.
“Does a tree fall from a slight breeze?” The insult was obvious. The male looked at him and shook away his apparent fatigue.
“You die well, human, but dead is dead, isn’t it?” Black Dwarf said. “Farewell.” He swept the mace around and positioned himself for the killing blow.
Sssshfamm!
Before he could bring the mace around he was knocked backward. Twin lines of fire burned into his chest. The pain was rare. Very little caused him harm. Even Thanos’ beating was the first exception in many months, but this was a line of fire through his torso that seemed to peel back the layers of his dense hide. He let out a scream as he fell, still clutching his weapon. Painfully he raised his head.
Behind the two humans stood five more shapes. The wild-haired human had returned and brought support. Worse, he recognized them. They were among the most feared warriors in the galaxy.
The Majestor’s eyes still burned. That was how Black Dwarf knew exactly who and what had hit him.
“Get your companions, human,” the Shi’ar said. “Do your job. We will handle this.”
Black Dwarf sneered, wiping blood from his mouth. “A Strontian prince. A Kree judge. A relic from a broken empire, and a dead thing from another time and place.” He had fought alongside Thanos and knew the difference between a threat and a group of failures. He stood up and grinned a feral grin. “This is all you have? This is your best? What gods have you offended to die in such poor company?”
He held his mace out in front of him, and energies crackled from all of its spikes. The Shi’ar came for him first and he blocked his opponent’s blow. The weapon was designed to shatter the hulls of ships. It would be more than enough to handle the likes of a Strontian.
Gladiator’s bare-fisted strike shattered the head of the mace. Disgusted, Black Dwarf hurled the shaft, sending it soaring across the room. It was only a weapon, he told himself. He was better off with his bare hands.
“The day is almost done, villain.” The Gladiator came for him again, and Black Dwarf hit him as hard as he could, sending him hurtling across the hallway. The Skrull caught his comrade before he could tear through the hull.
He also left himself open for a retaliatory strike.
“Villain?” With a backhand swipe he drove his fist into the Skrull’s head, and felt the flesh yield to the unexpected force of his attack. “Villain?” he roared as he lashed out again. Another creature would have lost its head, but the flesh was malleable even at its hardest, and no bones were broken.
The shape-changer started to rise, and he hit it again.
“You are imperials,” he growled, “enabling or even ruling hundreds—thousands—of worlds. And you speak as arbiters of… what? Justice?” He struck out at the insectoid from another dimension, Annihilus. “Fairness? Honor?” The creature struck back, and its hands were powerful indeed—but Black Dwarf was stronger. He smashed the creature backward and it squawked. Its wings fluttered as it tried to right itself, and he grabbed for it again.
“Good and evil?” he bellowed. The vile thing belched fire into his face. He was forced to let it go and close his eyes lest they be burned out of his head. Just the same he delivered a kick across its chest and sent it sprawling.
Abruptly he was staggered by a blow. The hand that hit him was rough and rocky, not at all like the hand of any of his e
nemies. The Skrull struck again. It was said that one of his race possessed the powers of several human heroes—this had to be him. The Skrull moved around him, wrapped him in pliable limbs, and pinned his arms. He pulled one arm free even as the Skrull’s hide burst into flame.
Damn the shape-changer…
He bit back the pain that stung him, and with his free hand he hit the Gladiator again. The blow was solid and the man fell to the ground. Black Dwarf smiled grimly and used the same hand to grip part of the burning arm that held him. It stretched and he pulled harder, trying to tear the limb away. The Skrull let out a cry of his own.
Black Dwarf would not die this day. He would kill the enemies of Thanos and redeem himself in his master’s eyes.
“Right and wrong?” he shouted into the faces of his opponents. Annihilus breathed fire down his back, and he grimaced. “What sort of person with real power speaks of such things? Who believes any of it?”
Then Ronan the Accuser was there. The Kree killer looked down upon him as Annihilus tried to destroy him from behind and the Skrull struggled to keep him pinned. Still he was winning— he knew he could kill all of them with ease, given enough time. Had he not already faced the wrath of Thanos?
“I do, Black Dwarf,” the Accuser replied. “I speak of such things, and I believe them. You have been judged.”
Ronan lifted his hammer up and brought it down with all of his considerable might. The weapon looked like a hammer, true, but legend claimed it also drew on the Power Cosmic—the very life force of the universe. When it struck, the hammer struck with the power to level buildings.
The Black Dwarf’s head shattered.
He was dying and he knew it. His neck had broken in the impact, too, and he could not move. But he could hear them as they spoke.
“That was more entertaining than I anticipated,” the Skrull said. “Now what?” The creature sounded shaken by the blows he’d been dealt, but Black Dwarf would have felt better about dying if he’d at least taken one of the bastards with him.
“We still have the pirate fleet to send running,” Gladiator replied. He, too, sounded worse for his injuries. “So that is what we will do—while the Avengers fight for the Earth and battle to vanquish the tyrant who holds their world.”
Black Dwarf wished he could be there. Wished he could help Thanos, and prove his worth. He died with that wish unfulfilled.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
TYRANT
THE SHIP was large enough to carry them and small enough not to be a target. Rather, it was a small target, and that helped. Even so, the hull sustained substantial damage after the shields failed and the controls got sticky.
“Listen, Carol,” Cap said. “I can land us if you need me to.”
How quaint, she thought, but she didn’t say so out loud. “No. We’re going to be close, but hopefully not close enough that they notice us.”
“Close” was a little more than fifty miles from where they wanted to be, but it was a tradeoff—distance for secrecy. When they stepped from the vessel, they saw exactly how much damage had been done. Captain Marvel had piloted them home in little better than Swiss cheese. Hulk surveyed the wreckage and smiled. Thor didn’t even seem to notice. Hyperion looked at Captain Marvel and nodded his appreciation of her skills.
“I should’ve gotten us closer,” she said.
“Look around, Carol,” Captain America responded. “It’s Earth. Home. It’ll do just fine.” He climbed out and looked at the frozen land around them. It was cold and it was uninhabited, as far as they could tell.
“As for the target, the coordinates Iron Man gave us put that location—and Thanos—southwest of here. Call it 220.25 degrees.” He looked in that direction and pointed. “Distance of about fifty-two miles. Hyperion?”
“I see it,” Marcus Milton replied, scanning. “Looks like an excavated build-out—an in-ground structure. I can see five life- forms. One of them looks to be in some sort of containment field.”
“That’s likely the son,” Cap said. “Okay. So, Hulk, can you head over there? Knock on the front door, soften them up a bit and distract them? We’ll be right behind you.” As the Hulk prepared to leap, Thor stopped him for a moment.
“Harness your appetite, Banner,” he said. “Leave some for the rest of us.” Thor smiled wryly as he said it.
Hulk looked at him and grunted.
Then he was on his way, powerful legs carrying him an incredible distance with just one leap. There would be more.
* * *
ABOVE EARTH, near the Peak, the ship-to-ship fighting continued. The pirate blockade broke, but it did so slowly. The Imperial Guard and a few of the Avengers continued their fight alongside the ships, and the Guard fought with unusual savagery as they mourned the loss of one of their own to the pirated weapons.
While the council rulers dealt with Black Dwarf, Black Widow, Shang-Chi, and Manifold continued toward their destination. They were brutal and effective, and at times Manifold felt like a third wheel as he watched the other two beating their enemies into submission. He did what he could, but he was tired and wasn’t the skilled fighter they were.
“The level is clear,” Shang-Chi said finally. The Widow joined Eden at the panel, and her fingers flitted over the controls. “Crack it if you can—otherwise we need to move on to the hangar and get back out there.” As he spoke he dropped the last of the pirates to the ground. The man didn’t even sound winded. It was embarrassing how much more in shape he was than Eden.
“No. I think we’re good, Shang,” Eden said. The digital readout danced as the access codes overrode whatever locks had been put in place. “We’re in.” The Black Widow looked over his shoulder and nodded.
“External monitors are online,” she announced. “We’ve got an ops center.”
“Putting everything on…” Manifold saw the shape that hovered outside and almost forgot to speak. “…the… screen…”
The boy was out there. Tall and thin, his hair moving in the void of space as his hand glowed brighter and brighter. Looking at him, even on the monitor, was difficult.
Nightmask stood next to Starbrand, both of them on the ring of the Peak. They did not float away. They did not suffocate, or freeze, or bleed out from their eyes and mouth. That was the sort of thing that happened to people in the movies. Instead, Nightmask touched Starbrand on the shoulder. The boy nodded his head and waved his hand.
Around them the ships of the alien blockade exploded, one after the other. Not all of them, but a very significant number. They were tiny flares of light against the vast luminescence coming from a kid named Kevin Connor. The light around Starbrand was brighter than the sun, and it was impossible not to see the correlation between his gesture and the resulting devastation. It was both beautiful and utterly terrifying.
“I am so glad he’s on our side,” Eden said.
“If he ever decides not to be,” Black Widow said, “I want you to put him on the other side of the Skrull Empire’s darkest moon.” She stared at the monitors for several seconds, and then spoke into the comm. “Am I reading this right, Hawkeye? It looks like they’re in full retreat.”
“Uh-huh,” the archer replied. “Bugging out. We won.”
“Not yet,” Natasha said.
“Any word from Earth, Widow?” Hawkeye asked.
“Patching in to Avengers Tower,” she said. “Being rerouted.”
* * *
THE WAR for the Golden City continued. Like the Avengers and their allies, the Wakandan forces—led by Queen Shuri—started pushing back. The invaders quickly discovered why Wakanda had never been successfully invaded.
* * *
T’CHALLA LOOKED at the gathered forces they had beaten down.
“That seems to be the last of the foot soldiers,” he said to his fellow Illuminati. “They fought together better than I expected, as if they were coordinated and controlled.”
“I believe they were,” Reed agreed. “Attacking in waves, automatons, but that
’s a problem solved—they’re all down for the count. How’s our other one coming along, Tony?”
“Almost there.” Iron Man worked at the control panel that offered access to the safe room where the antimatter bombs were kept. “Whoever changed the codes was very good… but I’m better.”
“Yes, but is your armor picking up anything from inside the room?” the Beast asked anxiously. “The bomb?”
“It has to be powered on. The readings are off the charts.” Iron Man confirmed the fears they all felt. Then he announced, “I’m in. Hopefully we’re not too late.” As he spoke, the door to the vault slid soundlessly to the side.
Black Bolt stood near the far wall; behind him was a tall, lean woman with blue skin and no hair. Her features were angular, and her hands were placed on Black Bolt’s standing body. He was conscious—but as the old adage went, the lights were on and nobody was home.
“Too late for what?” She looked at the approaching figures and smiled. “To save me from whispering in the king’s ear? To stop me from finding your bomb? Too late to save your world?”
The antimatter bombs were fully activated, and the air hummed with the potential for death and destruction. She peered in their direction, her expression one of pure malicious venom.
“Answer them, Inhuman. Let them know if they are too late to stop me.”
Iron Man stopped in the doorway.
“He’s not going to—”
“She has his mind,” Namor spat. “Of course he is! Move back, Beast.” The Atlantean moved quickly, shoving the Beast to the side as if he were weightless. “You won’t want to—”
The shockwave that hit them sent Namor, Iron Man, and Reed Richards soaring backward. T’Challa narrowly managed to avoid the massive sonic detonation. Doctor Strange was protected from the destructive force of Black Bolt’s voice by a quickly erected sorcerous shield.
The anger on his features was plain to see.
“The bomb…” Strange said. “Black Bolt… you servants of Thanos….” He had been made a fool by one of those very servants, and he had not forgiven that slight. “You have no idea what kind of arrogance it takes to think the power you are trying to control can be controlled at all.” He continued forward and his hands moved, his fingers dancing in contortions nearly too fast to see as he summoned his power and cast his spell. “You push us all to the brink, and then over the edge.
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