Avengers

by James A. Moore

  “No! You must listen to me!” J’son said, louder now. “Something is wrong.” He looked up to the heavens as he spoke, and his voice faded to little more than a whisper. “Wrong.”

  The rest looked up, including Captain America.

  “They’ve found us,” Thor said.

  Sentient drones screamed into the atmosphere of the ringworld. The refugees had gathered in a place where the risks were few. They were far away from where the Builders were moving, and the plan was to hide, regroup, and prepare.

  The time for hiding had ended.

  One of the Shi’ar cruisers tried to move between the drones and the ring. The cruiser was struck and evaporated in the explosion, but this did not stop the assault from hitting the ring itself.

  Almost one hundred million survivors from the Builders’ war were on the ring, fleeing from the enemies that had come without warning, and crushed worlds and ships alike. Over forty million of those refugees died in the strike.

  The Behemoth broke.

  Where each drone struck, the damage spread exponentially. Explosions ran the ring’s full length, the detonations shattering the superstructure. The force of those explosions liquefied massive sections that rippled, bucked, and fell apart. Bodies were hurled into space along with the debris. Some were dead; others were not. Screams were quickly swallowed by the vacuum.

  Captain America was one of those bodies. He would surely have died right then and there, but the Super-Skrull reached out and caught him with an arm that stretched far beyond the possibilities of even the shape-shifters. Cap felt the barrier the Skrull put around him that sealed in an atmosphere. Even as he was saved, he saw Ex Nihilo generating bubbles of breathable gases around several different groups.

  J’son stared at the ruination and wept openly—his face said what he did not. This was his fault. He had done something supremely stupid. Cap didn’t know exactly what it was, and he couldn’t spare the time to think about it.

  The destruction was on a scale he never imagined could exist, and he had seen the sorts of horrors that would never stop haunting him. Winds roared through the remaining atmosphere, and while Thor did what he could to calm them, even gods had limits. Though a large area was spared, the storms tore apart other sections with wild abandon.

  Captain America watched it all, unable to do anything to stop the devastation.

  The Builders made their intentions known.

  There would be no mercy.

  What happened next would be inevitable.

  * * *

  THE COUNCIL gathered again aboard the Lilandra. For a long while, there was no meeting. Instead there were different leaders doing what they could to assess the damage to their people and their forces. Before long the reports started coming in. Captain America, along with several other Avengers, stood nearby and listened.

  First the Builder fleet went to Centauri-IV. Several enemy ships landed in a show of force, and the Centaurians offered themselves in surrender. Better to live, they had reasoned. None could disagree.

  The Kymellians followed suit, surrendering even as the Builders arrived in their solar system. No one blamed them. Their race was ancient and proud, but they did not have the military strength to withstand an attack by the Builders.

  “There’s no choice, Steve,” the Black Widow said quietly to Captain America. With a long history dealing with foreign governments, she was trained to know how people would respond to certain types of force, and what governments would do in times of stress. “A lot of the smaller groups will surrender. It’s the only wise option, and so far the Builders seem to be accepting surrender as an alternative to outright destruction.” He nodded his head.

  “It’s the only move that makes sense,” he agreed, but he was not happy about it. He’d fought against the Nazis and Hitler, but he still understood the differences. The Nazis had never possessed a weapon capable of obliterating an entire civilization with the push of a button. If they had, World War II likely would have ended very differently.

  Ronan the Accuser stood in the center of the chamber and gestured to get the attention of those around him. His face was grim when he spoke. “Word has come to me,” he said. “The Supreme Intelligence has considered the possibilities as the Builder fleet moves closer to Hala. It has consulted with the thousands of intellects that exist within its vast memory and decreed that we cannot win.”

  Ronan lowered his head.

  “The Kree Empire has surrendered.”

  There was chatter, but no one spoke above a murmur.

  “I requested permission to stay here and fight alongside your forces,” he continued, “along with my Accusers. However, it seems the victors are refusing to accept anything short of total and complete submission.” It seemed as if every word he spoke was ripped from him. Ronan was a warrior first, and a proud man. “I have been ordered to return home with what remains of our fleet.”

  He turned and paced, a predator forced to hide its teeth. “Surrender is a shameful thing for a warrior. Better to die here, fighting alongside you, but I do not answer only to my conscience.” He kept his calm, but it wasn’t an easy thing. Captain America understood only too well. “Duty, it seems, is all I have left. Today I see little honor in it.” He stopped pacing and faced them. “Die well, heroes. You will be remembered.”

  “Well then, it’s over,” J’son said. “We are crippled, and what seemed impossible now seems critical. The Kree represented one fourth of our remaining fleet. This war has become pointless. We cannot win. We are going to lose. The only sane course is to withdraw from the battle, as well. The Spartax will return home, fortify our worlds, and prepare for the worst.

  “Survival is now all that matters.”

  Captain America peered at Thor, trying to read the expression on his teammate’s face. All he found was contempt for the king.

  “Live as something we are not?” Gladiator shook his head. “No. The Shi’ar will stay and fight.”

  Kl’rt nodded his agreement. “We will fight, as well. You cannot domesticate an H’Lraar. We have seen what the Builders are capable of doing. They are predators posing as something merciful. Even if I am wrong…” He looked to J’son as he spoke. “…what better way to die than on your feet with blood on your hands and the bodies of your enemies underfoot?”

  J’son spoke, and once again his contempt for the Earthlings was made clear.

  “Well, if you fools insist on throwing your lives away, you should know that the Builders have prisoners. Humans. I would assume the ones from the defeat at the Corridor.” He looked at Captain America with unbridled hostility—as if, somehow, the Avengers were responsible for everything that had gone wrong.

  “How do you know that?” Cap demanded.

  “We are not backwater savages, Captain. Do not question how when you are incapable of comprehending all the things your betters can do.” The defeated king straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. “My ways are beyond you.”

  The glow of energies surrounded J’son and his retinue. It lasted only for a moment, and then they were gone.

  Thor’s sneer grew profound.

  “He betrays us.” Annihilus said what they were likely all feeling.

  Gladiator crossed his arms. “Possibly. If so, that is a situation we will deal with another time. For now our problems remain the same. We do not know how to defeat these Builders, and we cannot survive another tactical error. We are both blind and lost.”

  Cap disagreed. “The problem is you’re not used to anything but strategizing from a position of strength, Gladiator. You’re looking at the chessboard the wrong way.”

  Thor looked toward him. “The Aeneid?”

  Captain America nodded his head.

  “So you have a plan, then?” Gladiator towered over him and gave his full attention.

  “I do,” Cap replied, “but there’s one thing I’m going to need to make it work.”

  “And what might that be?”

  Thor smiled. �
�The good Captain will require the right bait.”

  ACT THREE

  EMPIRES

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  FALLING

  HALA, THE capital world of the Kree Empire. Ronan the Accuser stood before the insectoid creatures known as the Engineers and stared down at them, his brow furrowed and his mouth set in a scowl.

  He had no desire to surrender. He had no wish to end a war while taking a knee to the creatures that had been the aggressors. What should have happened, in his eyes, was simple. He should have continued fighting until he was either victorious or dead.

  That was the Kree way.

  Aboard the Builder flagship, he took a knee just the same, offering his hammer—his weapon and the symbol of his position within the Accusers—to creatures that spoke as if he were not even there. Perhaps for them, he wasn’t.

  * * *

  “I DO not understand why you insist on such pageantry,” the Engineer said. “Our circumstances demand that the fleet be in motion—not stagnant.”

  “When a world surrenders, it is not to an army,” the Builder replied, “and not because of a show of force. We are teaching them, Engineer—that it only takes one Builder to break a civilization, to humble an empire.

  “We are very good teachers,” it added.

  “Builders, a mass of ships has just entered the system,” a Caretaker said from its position at a holographic nerve center. “They are right on top of us—it is the enemy fleet.”

  “Why?” the Engineer asked. “They must know they cannot win.”

  “We have harried the beasts to the breaking point, Engineer,” the Builder replied. “This is the animal instinct to fight. If these children crave instruction… so let us begin their final lesson.”

  * * *

  THE ALLIED ships swarmed from hyperspace and gathered before the Builder fleet. Gladiator studied the screen as the enemy vessels began to move toward them. Each consisted of two elongated pods linked at the center by a causeway. The effect was such that the approaching warships seemed to peer at them through slitted eyes.

  “It appears they’ve sent the bulk of their attack vessels in response to our incursion,” he said. “The only ones absent are the planet killers, likely left behind to defend the command ship.” He looked to his ally. “It appears the Builders have taken your bait, Captain.”

  Captain America hit a control stud on his comm.

  “Go.”

  It was one word, but it was enough.

  Ships moved into position, as did a group of smaller forms. Hyperion, Smasher, and the Imperial Guard all targeted enemy vessels as quickly as they could, doing everything possible to avoid becoming targets themselves. As crackling energy weapons began to light up the vacuum of space, they attacked and dodged. Bursts of flame and globes of energy discharge appeared, each representing an impact—and perhaps a kill.

  * * *

  MANIFOLD OPENED a breach into the lead ship, and most of the crew were vented into the void of space within seconds. They might have screamed, but no one could hear.

  Eden left as quickly as he had arrived.

  Mentor and the Shi’ar Subguardian known as Warstar accompanied Bruce Banner into the ship. Bruce wore a spacesuit and his backup patch. Warstar moved his huge armored body ahead of them both and engaged one of the Alephs, destroying the thing in short order. He presented its head to Mentor, along with a good portion of its torso.

  While Mentor probed the robotic remains, Banner opened a comm channel to the Shi’ar flagship.

  “It’s Banner,” he said. “We’re in, Steve. Manifold got us here, and we’re working on accessing the system now.”

  Mentor shook his head. “Chaotic encoding—this is more challenging than I expected.” Considering the man’s intellect, Banner didn’t like the sound of that.

  “It’s going to be tight, Cap,” he said. “Hold on as long as you can. We’re working on it.” He did his best to stay calm and wondered— not for the first time—what lunacy led anyone to send him out like this. The last thing he needed was to be in the middle of the action.

  * * *

  “THEY SAY they need more time,” Cap announced.

  “There is no more time,” Gladiator raged. “We just lost the Wintersun. Tell Captain Lumma to bring the—arrhh!”

  He bellowed as a huge impact sent the Lilandra tipping to one side, throwing them off-balance. Cap remained standing, but Gladiator hit the deck, hard.

  “Power is failing,” a crewman said, helping the Majestor to his feet. “We need to—”

  “No,” Cap said. “There’s nowhere left to run, soldier. We win here and now, or we lose it all. Give the order. Attack. Fire everything we’ve got.”

  * * *

  BANNER FORGOT to be worried as he watched Mentor in action. The man’s fingers fairly danced over the Aleph’s insides, moving wires and attaching a portable unit to the interior of the highly developed robotic brain.

  “Almost there.”

  Banner repeated it to Captain America.

  Mentor nodded. “Done. Tell the Lilandra that we’re in.”

  * * *

  “LOOK AT them fight.” Aboard the Builder command ship, the Engineer peered at the huge viewscreen. “Look at how they die.”

  “Impressive.”

  “Do you know what the people will say about this day, thousands of years from now?” the Builder answered. “What they will say about these creatures and their valiant last stand? Nothing. Because we will not tell them. Oblivion is all there is for—”

  Booom!

  An impact sent a vibration through the entire vessel, causing every creature on the bridge to look up, their faces expressing disbelief.

  “We’re under attack,” the Gardener with the antlers said. “Who would—?”

  “It’s… it’s not possible,” the Caretaker said, his fingers racing over the controls. “It’s one of our own World Killers.”

  * * *

  “LILANDRA, WE have broken into the Builder control system on the World Killer,” Mentor said. “I’ve wirecasted the firing codes.”

  He sent the command, and a ship capable of destroying planets opened fire on its neighbor. The entire interior of the ship where they stood hummed and shuddered as volley after volley of heavy artillery cut through the space between vessels. Within minutes, it was done. The unsuspecting vessel was crippled, bleeding energies and Builders alike. Then another planet killer was targeted. This one went up in a ball of fire and fury, leaving nothing but debris.

  Then there was a commotion off to one side, and Mentor glanced toward the human that had accompanied them—the one called Banner. His figure swelled abruptly, broke free of the spacesuit, and took on the healthier color of green. Huge muscles bulged, and the Hulk grabbed what remained of the Aleph, crushing it to bits with its bare hands.

  “Our usefulness here may have been short-lived, however,” Mentor said. “We’ve lost control of the World Killer’s weapons systems.” But as he spoke, another voice came over the comms.

  “We have the second World Killer,” Thor announced.

  “Now?” That was Kl’rt.

  “Yes. Break them, Warlord—strike like lightning on the darkest night. Scorch the heavens, rain fire down on them.”

  A moment later, the second World Killer launched an assault on the Builder fleet, targeting and incinerating more of the planet destroyers. The void was filled with wreckage and bodies.

  All the while, the Hulk raged throughout the enemy vessel, leaping from one spot to another and shattering whatever he could touch. Mentor and Warstar couldn’t do anything but watch the unbridled violence. In spite of himself, Mentor was impressed.

  “Why, exactly, was that man sent along?” he asked.

  “He’s really a very good deterrent in most cases,” Captain America replied. “Also, I thought he could be helpful.”

  “Well, he’s doing an excellent job of destroying the ship we commandeered…”

  * * *

>   MANIFOLD MOVED carefully, stepping as softly as he could; next to him, the Black Widow struck like a vengeful spirit. They were accompanied by Shang-Chi and Spider-Woman.

  Manifold did his best to remain calm. The others fairly danced from shadow to shadow in a well-lit ship; wherever each went, one of the creatures in front of them fell unconscious or dead. He didn’t bother to ask which.

  Just as they located Captain Marvel, Sunspot, Cannonball, and Hawkeye, vibrations thrummed through the ship. Captain America’s ruse had worked—they were turning the enemy’s own weapons against them.

  The prisoners were locked in manacles, while an Aleph stood guard. As the rumbling began, the robot moved toward them, away from the hatchway.

  “DECLARATIVE: TERMINATION ORDER GIVEN.” It raised its arms, and energy weapons began to glow. “DECLARATIVE: PROXIMITY ALE—”

  Its mechanical words were cut off as an energy spear burst through its chest. From behind the Aleph, Shang-Chi stepped into the prison chamber. He wore high-tech gauntlets that made his hands glow.

  “Hello, friends. Rest easy. All is well.”

  While the Black Widow released Captain Marvel, Manifold teleported parts of the other restraints into the void. The prisoners rubbed their wrists and shook their arms to restart blood circulation.

  “Gather round,” Spider-Woman said. “Manifold will jump us back out of here.”

  “We can’t leave yet, Jess,” Captain Marvel said. “We’re not the only ones here. Are you in communication with our fleet, Widow?”

  Natasha nodded. “We’re all wired into Captain America’s communication array.”

  “Excellent—please tell him we’re going to send a message.”

  “Can do.”

  “Now we have to save the others.” Captain Marvel moved toward the exit, and the rest followed. Carol gestured for the Black Widow to join her, and Natasha nodded as she spoke.

  The time for stealth was past. Before the ship’s crew could react, Cannonball launched himself toward the nearest opponents, taking out Engineers, Alephs, Caretakers, and equipment alike. Manifold hoped none of the tech was essential for—say—life support, but it was too late to stop him. An Aleph lunged for the Black Widow, but Shang-Chi landed a focused blow and penetrated its chest, shattering both shielding and circuits. The thing collapsed instantly, crushing a control panel beneath its full weight and sending up a cascade of sparks.