|
#7
JUN 11 |
 |
Dark Tide Rising, Part Three:
“Blood on the Crystal”
2500 years ago, the Quel Galaxy
They called it the Day of Purging: the day the very sky itself opened up and swallowed the world, all for the sin of using machines.
It was chaos in the streets all around the globe; buildings crumbled as the earth shook violently, cyclonic winds ravaged the land and gigantic waves lashed the shoreline of every continent. Worst of all was the massive white slash in the starlit sky that continued to grow until it took up most of the horizon.
Everywhere were panicked Quel, flitting around on their four legs like fear stricken lizards. Although a diminutive race, the Quel had mastered their world through the development of technology. They relied on it like a plant relied on the sun’s rays for life. Unfortunately, no technology could protect them now; in fact, for millennia after this day it would be said that an experiment gone had caused the disaster.
The panic escalated into near mad hysteria when a colossal figure came into view through the tear. Though too big to be fully seen through the tear in space, it was clearly a massive structure made of dozens of long black crystal, each one bigger than their own world.
Few Quel realized until it was too late that the tear in space wasn’t expanding, their world was drawing closer too it. It took less than an hour for their planet’s orbit to carry them through the tear and into a place of intense whiteness, crackling with energy.
It was then that the crystalline leviathan spoke to them. Not through words, it was from time before words, but through images and feelings. It was an entity of pure malevolence, one that could smite the Quel’s insignificant world in a second, but instead it chose to teach them how to better themselves without the sins of machinery.
Over the next millennia they learned how to build ships and devices from the crystalline body of their new god, which they named the Korhan. Most important of all, the Korhan taught them how to improve their own genetic structure and over time they evolved into the Quel’toth.
Eventually the Quel’toth were ready for their greatest mission: to purge the universe of all life they saw as unworthy to exist.
2500 years ago, the Milky Way Galaxy
“Just one hand after the other,” said the young tribesman to no one, driving himself on.
He had spent the past four hours climbing the Forbidden Peak. It had been an agonizing struggle, but the young alien would never give up until he had proven himself a man to the Nauroch clan and, more importantly, to his father.
He was il’Dragoononadas, son of Noranthalalas, chieftain of their tribe. The young Nauroch had lived in his father’s shadow all his life and he was forever a disappointment to Noranthalalas. Rake thin like his mother, the teenager looked pathetically weak in comparison to the hulking frame of his father.
It was for that reason he was scaling the Forbidden Peak; many of the desert tribes in the region believed the lone mountain to be haunted, that a black spirit dwelled within a cave at the top of the peak. If he could walk somewhere even his father wouldn’t dare to tread then surely he would be a man.
Eventually he reached the apex of the mountain; the hot, stinging wind even reached him up here, though his thick, sand colored scales protected him from the worst of it. Nearby was a small, non-descript cave entrance through which he entered the mountain.
Within he found a massive cave filled with sparkling black crystals. It was both beautiful and eerie at the same time, especially the way he could see himself reflected from so many angles. Seeing himself reflected in so many ways accentuated all his faults: he was too tall and skinny, his crown of horns were mere nubs and his eyes were pale green rather than the powerful golden sheen of his race.
Suddenly he we struck by a blast of white energy from one of the larger crystals, and then another and another until he was enveloped in burning white energy. Strangely the energy didn’t hurt, though his mind was overwhelmed with images of himself conquering the galaxy and a strange, gigantic cluster of black crystals floating in a white void.
As suddenly as the energy appeared it was gone, and he felt somehow…different. He didn’t feel any stronger or weaker, but there was an odd burning within his chest, a desperate hunger. When he caught a glimpse of himself within a crystal he realized his once green eyes had become burning white orbs, crackling with energy. He had faced the black spirit and he had survived. His father had to admit he was a man now.
After several hours climbing back down the mountain and traversing the burning desert sands, he arrived back at the Nauroch clan’s village. Rushing directly to his family’s hut he burst inside, eager to tell his father of his achievement.
“Where have you been il’Dragoononadas?” said his father, brimming with anger. "Your mother had to tan the krenchan hides on her own…” his voice turned suspicious. “What’s happened to your eyes, boy?”
“I climbed the Forbidden Peak, Father,” he replied, not sure how his father would react. “I faced the black spirit and I survived…”
The chieftain exploded forward, grabbing his son by the throat. “What have you done to my son!” he screamed.
il’Dragoononadas was confused. “I am your son,” he choked.
“Lies! The Black Spirit has taken my son! I can see it in your evil eyes!”
The boy grew angry now; his father still refused to believe was a man. As that anger grew so too did the burning hunger deep within his chest. As the pair struggled, a silvery white stream of light passed from the father’s mouth to the son, easing the hunger deep within.
It was only a few seconds but it felt like an eternity; the son watched as the life drained away from his father’s eyes. Noranthalalas’ cold fingers slipped away from his son’s throat as the corpse fell to the floor. By killing his father he had truly become a man and, thus, the prefix il, meaning child, was lost from his name. He was now Dragoononadas, or Dragoon.
The man now known as Dragoon looked upon his father’s corpse and felt his sire’s strength now running through is own veins.
This was only the beginning.
Now, aboard the Quel’toth Ship Blood Pride
As cliché as it sounded, the wind rushed through their hair as the ground raced up to meet them. Actually, it was the Dasagroth’s buttress like roots rather than the ground racing up to meet them, but the effect would still be the same: Corsair and Z’Cann would be killed on impact.
Just moments before the pair had engaged in combat with the Sen’khan and come off second best. The powerful alien had effortlessly hurled both of them over the edge of the platform to their apparent doom.
Obviously the Sen’khan wasn’t familiar with the physiology of Skrulls though. In the blink of an eye Z’Cann grew a pair of leathery wings and grabbed a hold of her captain, Corsair. He was heavy but with wings she’d able to control their descent safely.
Tsssssseeeeww
The Skrull woman cried out in pain as an energy beam pierced her right wing; the Quel’toth on higher levels were firing on them and they were easing pickings. Soon another blast burnt through the same wing and they were falling again.
Every hair on each of their heads stood on end as they were grabbed by a hand of telekinetic energy, suddenly halting their fall once again. They were quickly lowered to the ground, albeit at a much safer pace then before.
“Oh God, not him!” exclaimed Corsair when he realised the being who saved them was none other than Dragoon!
While not having met Dragoon, Z’Cann recognized him by pieces of memories shared with her by the rest of the crew. She knew he was an unstoppable force; even Gladiator, the most powerful warrior in the Shi’ar army, couldn’t stand up against him. Judging by the swath of destruction left behind him neither could the Quel’toth.
“Fate has brought you before me, mortals,” boomed Dragoon. “Surely you do not doubt my divinity now?”
“You’re not the first overpowered psychopath with delusions of grandeur, Dragoon,” replied Corsair. “A lot has happened to this universe while you’ve been gone.”
“So it would seem,” replied Dragoon. “On your knees, unbeliever.”
Electricity surged through the captain’s body without warning, bringing him to his knees in agony.
“Christopher!” exclaimed Z’Cann, but she was frozen in place telekinetically.
“I will give you one chance, and once chance only, to live,” stated the self proclaimed god icily. “Tell me what this…monstrosity is and who are the creatures that serve it?” He gestured towards the Dasagroth.
“The Dasagroth serves to further the might of the Quel’toth, not the other way around, stranger!” shouted the Sen’khan from above.
“Incorrect. The Quel’toth serve merely as a vector for this humble vessel,” said a flat, emotionless voice.
All eyes searched the room for the source of the voice, but none could be found, until the corpse of a Kree soldier was pulled from the bulk of the Dasagroth by one of its writhing tentacles. Upon closer inspection, all present realized it was only the upper half of a Kree man. It was held suspended in the air from the back of the head by the monster’s tentacle; dozens of black threads, like a spider web or fungal hyphae could be seen covering the corpse.
“Did that dead guy just speak?” asked Fallout; neither Z’Cann nor Corsair had even noticed him until now.
“It speaks,” said Dragoon, more to himself than anybody else.
“Correct. This humble vessel can utilize tools through which to better communicate with lesser beings,”
“Tools?! That’s a person’s body you’re defiling!” shouted Corsair as he gradually got to his feet.
Without warning, a massive tentacle extended from the base of the creature and swept Corsair, Z’Cann and Fallout from the chamber. Above, dozens of other tentacles were doing the same to all the Quel’toth on the higher levels. Corsair couldn’t help but grin when he caught a glimpse of the Sen’khan being shoved bodily though a door.
The trio were tossed unceremoniously through the hole Dragoon had created and watched in awe as the Dasagroth sealed the entrance with its own body material. All other entrances to the room were likely being sealed also.
“Son of a…” Fallout extended his hands and blasted the barricade with lethal radiation, but to no avail.
“What are you doing?!” demanded Corsair, “Leave those two monsters sealed in with each other.”
“I…your right,” the young mutant sagged. "You have to get me out oinherent, Summers. Dragoon saved my life but he’s a madman. I just want to go home.”
Christopher briefly considered rejecting the young man’s plea but it wasn’t in his nature to not help someone in need. Besides, both he and Z’Cann were unarmed and Fallout was a living weapon.
“Ok, but I want you in front of us at all times,” he replied. “We need to find the X-Men, we need to find a way off this ship, and we need to find a way to destroy it.”
Elsewhere on the ship
The Sen’khan bashed in vain against the door to the Dasagroth’s chamber, which was now sealed shut with a rigid black substance. A half a dozen Deltas ran down the hall to his aid.
“Get that door open anyway you can!” he ordered.
“Yes Sai!” As one, the soldiers opened fire upon the crystalline door, blasting it to pieces. Unfortunately all this revealed was more of the Dasagroth’s bulk behind it.
“Keep trying! I want to get into that chamber!”
A voice crackled over his com, worn on the collar of his red cloak, “Sen’khan, you said to tell you when we have arrived at out destination.”
“Very good, Beta. Scan the planet for life signs and resources and then return your report.”
Finally something was going right today; one of the many skills the Alpha class had was the gift of psychometry, to sense an objects origins. Using this ability on the captured humans had lead the Quel’toth to a Brood armada and their long abandoned cloning facilities, which had not exactly been what they were looking for. With the unexpected capture of the new human, however, the Quel’toth had exactly what they needed: the co-ordinates to a planet prime with amazing genetic material.
They would learn the secret of the human’s startling genetic potential, add it to their own and strip his Earth bare.
Aboard the Starjammer bridge
“Quickly, while their shields are down, we must get on board that ship,” exclaimed Nightcrawler, or rather the clone of Nightcrawler. “We have to save Corsair and Z’Cann and destroy that fleet before they attack Earth!”
“Yes Kurt, we know,” replied Raza, who was armed to the teeth with his twin sabres, half a dozen daggers and a pair of energy pistols.
“Keep you ssshirt on, Bluey, it’ss hard to get a lock on Z’Cann’sss signal,” said Ch’od.
The Saurian, a pacifist at heart, had dusted of his preferred but much unused weapon: a massive war hammer which sent a surge of energy through anyone it struck. On the rare occasions he brought the hammer into battle he decimated all opposition. Clutching the hammer’s long handle left a bad taste in the loveable alien’s mouth, but he swallowed his distaste for the sake of the captain.
“Teleportation lock ready,” stated the ship’s AI, Waldo, flatly.
“Are you sure Yana will be well cared for here?” asked a concerned Kurt.
“Relax, Waldo and Sikorssssky are more than capable of taking care of the baby,” Ch’od placated. “Teleporting now…”
The trio dematerialized in a flash of golden light.
Starjammer Med Bay
“Oh dear, oh dear, please stop crying little infant human,” said a very flustered Sikorsky.
The dragonfly-like alien flitted around the makeshift baby crib, a non functioning stasis pod, trying to calm down baby Yana.
“Curse those…pirates...for leaving me with this…wailing faeces machine! I’m a doctor, not a babysitter!” He scanned the baby once again. “Scans show you have more than the adequate amount of food in your stomach, your fluid levels are high, there is no waste in your garments…Waldo, is there any information in your data banks on human babies?”
“Searching data banks,” replied the computer. “Initiating human adult to infant dialogue: ‘coochie coochie coo. Who’s da cute baby? You are! Yes you are! Coochie Coochie…’”
“What in blazes was that?” demanded Sikorsky. The dialogue sounded ridiculous enough without putting it in Waldo’s emotionless monotone.
“Initiating human lullaby; ‘Rockabye baby in the treetop…’”
Elsewhere in the galaxy, Hrrar’s ship
Hrrar had managed to track Dragoon’s fleet to a distant part of the Milky Way galaxy, moving away from the Shi’ar galaxy, which he didn’t like at all. The Mephistoid became more irritable as the likelihood of Dragoon attacking the Shi’ar decreased.
It appeared as if the entire fleet was moving at top speed towards quadrant 2294, which contained Corsair’s homeworld, Earth. Hepzibah didn’t mention this to Hrrar though, as it would likely make him angrier.
Since the attack on the Shi’ar hospital ship, she had realized the male had used his pheromones on her on a dozen more occasions. He would make her cook, clean, do maintenance, bed him; he was turning her into a slave and she hated it.
It was difficult to find the opportunity to strike back at the male but eventually she did. Hrrar had become increasingly distracted trying to work out where Dragoon’s fleet were headed and why they had abandoned the notion of attacking the Shi’ar. It was while he was plotting stellar routes that she took her chance.
Hrrar heard the doors slide open as he leaned over the console, as if trying to menace the computer into telling him where the fleet was going. He didn’t even bother to turn and look at his new mate.
“Woman, go and fetch me some stygian ale,” he ordered, exuding some mind controlling pheromones for good measure.
“No,” she replied.
It was then that Hrrar turned around in wide eyed surprise. His eyes grew even wider when he realized Hepzibah was wearing a full body space suit and holding a gun.
“Hepzibah, what are you doing?” demanded the male, while emitting more pheromones.
“Don’t even bother, you son of a glatch!" She tapped the clear face plate of her suit. "Self-contained oxygen.”
Hrrar started to say, “You stupid b…” but his enslaved lover shot him with a laser blast in the right thigh before he could finish.
“I’m talking now!” she shouted as he fell to the ground, clutching his badly hurt leg. "Actually, I think actions speak louder than words…” She shot him again, this time where all mean fear being shot most of all.
The male cried out in agony once again and clutched his damaged…area. “I’ll kill you for this! You’ll die, Hepzibah, I promise you!”
“I’m the one with the gun, rememberrr?” She shot him one last time, though she set the weapon on stun first. As much as she wanted to kill the Mephistoid, she knew the punishment he’d already been dealt was much more appropriate; she wanted him to suffer for the rest of his life.
Grabbing him by the ankle, she dragged the semi-conscious man to the nearest escape pod and dumped him inside. The man who had ruined her relationship with Corsair looked at her with groggy eyes.
“I’m no man’ss tool,” she said coldly as she launched the pod into the emptiness of space.
The Blood Pride, the Dasagroth’s chamber
“What manner of creature are you?” Dragoon asked the Dasagroth, or rather the corpse dangling before him.
“This humble vessel goes by many names,” said the corpse flatly, it’s dead eyes looking past the god. “Dasagroth is the name most commonly imposed, though the Drinker of Souls, Conduit to on High and Black Thread are also names through which this humble vessel is referred,”
“I didn’t ask what you were called, monster, I want to know what you are!” he demanded.
“This humble vessel is a fungal based organism created to tap the unlimited power of the Korhan to further the work of its servants, the Quel’toth,”
Dragoon was quickly growing impatient with the gigantic creature, especially the way it kept referring to itself as ‘this humble vessel’ but he swallowed his anger. He needed answers.
“I sensed your power from across the galaxy; I have only felt it once before, long ago. I demand to know where your power comes from!”
“This humble vessel is empowered by the Korhan, as are you,” replied the Dasagroth through the corpse. “Both you and this humble vessel are servants of the Korhan. We further its grand scheme for the universe…”
“I SERVE NO ONE!” bellowed Dragoon and he fired off a blast of white energy, incinerating the corpse and a chunk of the massive creature.
“You are an instrument, il’Dragoononadas,” said another corpse, this one a Brood. “Like the Quel’toth, you spread chaos and destruction. You are a piece of the grand design. Feel humbled Chaos-Bringer,”
“Never!” He destroyed this corpse too. “I am no-one’s servant! I would rather die!”
“Very well,” said a dozen more corpses in unison.
A tentacle extended itself from the bulk of the creature and knocked Dragoon through a wall. He fired an energy blast in return and severed the limb. The Chaos-Bringer was shocked to see the amputated tentacle dissolve into thousands of smaller tendrils and rejoin the bulk of the Dasagroth’s form.
“Finally, a challenge!” yelled Dragoon as he charged back into the chamber, blowing chunks off the creature with multiple energy blasts.
The Prison Cells
The entire ship shook. At first Scott didn’t notice it as he just assumed it was Peter punching the cell wall again, but then the shaking increased to a violent shudder.
“Rrrrrrraaaaggggghhhhh!” screamed Peter.
Blinded by a band of crystal, Scott didn’t realize the energy fields holding them in prison had suddenly failed. Peter seized the opportunity and launched himself against the lone guard. Caught by surprise, the Quel’toth stood no chance against the awesome fury of a caged Colossus.
Kitty grabbed hold of the crystal band around Scott’s head and phased it off him; after weeks of blindness he could finally see. Because the cloning process didn’t replicate the brain damage caused to the original Cyclops, he did not need ruby quartz lenses to hold his optic beams in check.
“Scott, what do we do?” asked Kitty as she helped the weakened Scott to his feet.
“We need to find my fath…Corsair, and get the hell off this ship,”
The trio ran off down the hall, with no real idea where they were headed. WhatEver was causing the ship to shudder so violently must have drawn the attention of all the soldiers, as they encountered none.
Their good luck turned sour when they turned a corner and found themselves facing the Sen’khan himself and a half dozen delta class soldiers.
Elsewhere on the ship
“What the hell is going on?” asked a nervous Fallout.
BOOM! The ship shuddered violently once again.
“I don’t know but keep moving. I think the prison quarters are around here somewhere,” replied Corsair.
“Down this hall, turn left, then left again,” Z’Cann added. “I’m sorry if I have a better sense of direction than you." She smiled at the captain’s surprised look.
They proceeded down the hallway but were stopped short by a sudden flash of light as Raza, Ch’od and Nightcrawler materialized before them.
“Captain!” exclaimed Ch’od.
“Z’Cann, you’re safe,” sighed a relieved Raza.
“I’m ok too, thanks,” joked Corsair.
“Who’s your friend?” asked Nightcrawler, gesturing towards Fallout.
“The time for introductions is later. We need to MOVE,” Corsair said, leading the group down the hall way at a run.
“So, what species are you?” Fallout asked Nightcrawler as they ran.
“Human, you?”
“Me too. Are you sure you’re human, you don’t look it.”
“Neither do you with that spaceman suit on, I guess we’ll call it a draw…”
Suddenly though the roof, the solid roof, fell the Sen’khan and Kitty, interrupting all conversations and bringing the group to a halt.
As soon as her trio encountered the Sen’khan, Kitty had thought quickly and took him out of the fight. Unfortunately, she’d brought him down into a whole new group of friends. With lightning fast reflexes, the alien leader dove away from Kitty before she could phase him away again.
As he dove through the air he knocked Corsair over and kicked Z’Cann in the face, before grabbing Raza by the wrist and throwing him down the hallway. As Corsair tried to get to his feet he felt an elbow in the face, taking him out of the fight for a minute at least.
Fallout stood frozen in fear while the Sen’khan took out each of his companions one by one. Ch’od swung his massive battle hammer but he was far too slow; the ebony skinned alien leapt onto the hammer, ran down the length of the handle and kicked the Saurian in the face with surprising strength. As Ch’od stumbled backwards, the Quel’toth assaulted him with a barrage of fists before Nightcrawler teleported in with blades swinging.
With amazing reflexes, the Sen’khan dodged all of Kurt’s swings before trying to throw a punch at the mutant. It was a feint though and, as the mutant ‘ported to dodge the attack, his opponent swung around and landed a hammer blow to his stomach as he reappeared. Kurt flew backwards through the air but managed to land elegantly, but winded, on his feet.
“I can sense your every move before you make it,” the Sen’khan said to the group. “Surrender now.”
“Not likely,” replied Kurt, as he appeared above the alien once again with blades swinging.
The Sen’khan drew his own ice blue crystal blade and met Nightcrawler in battle. Raza, too, charged back onto the scene firing his laser at the alien to no avail; just like the Deltas, their leader appeared to be immune to laser fire. He instead drew both his blades and attacked.
Surprisingly, the cyborg landed a deep cut across the Sen’khan’s back, though he didn’t cry out in pain. With a vicious backwards kick he knocked Raza backwards before grabbing Kurt by the tail and throwing him at the cyborg; both went down in a tangle of arms and legs.
In a sudden and surprising movement he threw his crystal blade at Z’Cann as she got back up, impaling her in the shoulder. Somehow he realized it was the Skrull woman who was blocking his telepathy, which had allowed Raza to attack him undetected.
Corsair, who had shaken off his daze, grabbed one of Raza’s sabres and charged at the Sen’khan, while Ch’od charged him from the opposite side. As quick as ever, the alien leader leapt aside and grabbed Ch’od by his massive wrist. By using his momentum against him, the Quel’toth flipped the large Saurian over on top of Corsair.
Almost quicker then she could react, the vicious alien leapt at Kitty, yanking his blade from Z’Cann’s shoulder as he flew passed. She turned intangible just in time and the crystal blade sailed right through her. He tried to cut her several more times in vain.
It was at that moment that Fallout shook himself from his fear induced stupor and blasted the Sen’khan with a powerful cocktail of radiation. Unfortunately his target leapt out of the way just in time and Kitty received the full blast instead. Even in phased form she wasn’t immune to the effects of radiation; she slipped back into her solid form, fell to her knees and started vomiting up blood. The Sen’khan took advantage of this weakness and stabbed her in the back.
“Kitty! NO!” yelled Kurt as he watched the life fade from his friends eyes.
BOOM! Part of the ceiling caved in as one of Scott’s optic blasts penetrated it from above.
“KATYA!” screamed Peter as he saw the mother of his child dead on the floor.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
To Be Continued...
Previous Issue | Next Issue