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Post by Uatu the Watcher on Jun 10, 2008 19:57:20 GMT -5
[Giffen, Keith (w), Scott Kolins with Ariel Olivetti (a), and June Chung (c)] “Annihilation Day.” Annihilation Prologue., #1, (May. 2006), Marvel Entertainment: [9-11]
Adapted By: Uatu, The Watcher
ANNIHILATION DAY, PLUS 7.
VERGE SYSTEM 001, 26 STAR SYSTEMS AWAY.
XANDAR CLUSTER,
HOME PLANET TO THE NOVA CORPS.
Xandar Spaceport--one of last great traveling terminals in the andromeda galaxy. Thousands of species from all across the universe passed in and out through the hub by the hour. Most galactic transit was swift and without hassle, but today the spaceport had been put at a standstill. The entire installation remained adrift in space, along side the rest of Xandar which remained intact via the enormous domed cities of the civilization that remained since the actual planet’s destruction. From afar, the spaceport seemed like it was engulfed by millions of spacecraft desperately waiting to make port and leave as soon as possible. Inside, security protocols were on high alert as all the levels of the spaceport were flooded with travelers of all types and species—waiting in line just to make it to the next security checkpoint. The information screens posted all around the surroundings read the same message over and over again—Delayed. Departures and arrivals in and out were in Nova Corps lockdown; the soothing electronic voice echoed through the audio speakers of the spaceport on repeat.
"Attention. Nova Corps crisis protocols are in effect. Unauthorized pan-galactic transit has been suspended until further notice, stargates included. Nova Corps apologizes for any inconvenience. Please stand by for transit status updates... Attention: Nova Corps crisis protocols are in effect..."
Yet only a select few stargates were active at this time as the security sector of the spaceport was active and online. Yet the portal was only accepted arrivals, as the proud members of the Nova Corps walked gallantly through the opening one after another. A particularly familiar enlisted member walked through, clad head to toe in his yellow and blue Nova Corps uniform, which originated from planet Earth. Upon his entrance, he sounded off, “Rider, Richard. Terran. Reporting for duty.”
Walking down the ramp, Richard could hear the pessimistic remarks of other enlisted members of the core behind the log desk snapping at each other over the situation—that of which had initiated Nova Corps crisis protocols “This is not how I’d envisioned spending my R&R cycle.”
The tired soldier’s superior officer easily silenced the incessant whining. “Cry me a deluge, desk jockey.”
After entering in the clearance information for the Nova, one of the technicians cleared Richard and delivered his orders. “Okay, Rider, you’re the last group. Move with a purpose, beat grunts. Full muster at 0200. Drop shuttles at mass transit kiosks 17 through 32.”
Richard could hear the emergence swirl of the open stargate behind him sound the noise of another soldier exit. It was a feminine voice, and from the direction it came from it sounded almost as tall as him. “Pyo, Rigelian. Reporting for Duty.” The Rigelian Nova walked down the ramp, noticing the Terran who had about faced to greet her presence. Her distinctive Rigelian head, almost twice the size of the man from Earth, gave a smirking grin at the Terran with a condescending look in her wide slanted eyes—before commenting on the man who watched her. “Nice look.”
Richard was taken aback, yet only in appearance, as he was only humorously fazed by Pyo’s words. “You talkin’ to me? What’s wrong with the way I look?”
The two were too concerned with each other to notice the tall, feminine, blue skinned Nova Centurion marching through, matching the ranks of the two she greeted. “Samaya, Centaurian. Reporting for duty.” She held her helmet at her hip, allowing the thin, crimson, crest atop her head to roam free in the spaceport air. “Ignore her, Rider. We all do.”
“To your detriment, Sam.” Pyo dismissed Samaya’s words as she slung her traveling pack over her shoulder while taking notice of the messages that were posted on data screens across the spaceport—the three walking together as they proceeded to the transit stations. “Huh… Full system lockdown. This one’s growing hair. Count on it.”
“Growing hair?” Rider, unsure exactly what the statement meant, removed his helmet and let his groomed brown hair shake free of the headgear’s confines.
“Last time there was a lockdown it was a close brush with Galactus. But nothin’ came of it.” Samaya briefed Rider. “Talk has it there’s been an incident out at the Kyln.”
Pyo’s eyes glinted with a distasteful glare as she caught a good look at Richard’s full face. She sighed under her breath before griping, “Looks like we’re stuck with another Terran dink, Sam?”
“Dink?” Rider responded as the three boarded the transport carrier, emerging into the freshly conditioned air of the inside as row after row of the ships seating was sporadically filled with Nova Corps members.
“Dink, Greenie, Rookie… ‘S all the same.” Pyo began to look for her seat.
“I’m five years in. How’s that make me a rookie?”
“Terran years don’t count.”
“You’re serious?” Rider paused, his mind etched with frustration at the lack of respect he received for all that he’s done in the service of the Nova Corps—yet he somehow took an uneasy comfort that the Rigelian’s hazing comments.
“I’m Pyo.” She said as she removed her helmet and smirked pleasingly at Richards humility. “That’s Samaya. Pleased to meet you, Dink.”
Rider took his seat just before he heard the transport doors behind him shut closed behind him. “Back at you… I think.” The vibrations of the vessels engine hummed beneath his boots and grow subtly in pitch. Clad in the gold and blue colors of the Nova Corps, the transport left the crowded docks—taking a small detour around a large and lumbering space barge that slowly began docking adjacent to the Nova terminal Rider’s outfit had just departed from.
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Post by Uatu the Watcher on Jun 10, 2008 19:57:58 GMT -5
[Giffen, Keith (w), Scott Kolins with Ariel Olivetti (a), and June Chung (c)] “Annihilation Day.” Annihilation Prologue., #1, (May. 2006), Marvel Entertainment: [11-13]
Adapted By: The Punisher
Prison Convoy Dredge 02 wasn’t much of a sight to look at no matter which angel it was watched from. Among the smaller ships and vessels that docked at the Nova Corps spaceport, the dredge stuck out like a sore thumb—an infected thumb with an overgrown hangnail and a serious wart outbreak. The design was basically a floating elongated cube strapped to two sets of thrusters along with all creativity and elegance stripped from its structure through the corroded paintjob on its filthy surface. But the dredge wasn’t built for speed or for comfort or anything close to galactic standard regulations for vehicles its size. There was only one purpose for the barge; to maintain that those who traveled inside stayed inside.
"Welcome to Xandar, Prison Convoy Dredge 02. Looks like your Kyln-bound. Please cede over you’re A.I. Navicomp to Nova Corps A.I." Inside the tightly patrolled hallways, the guard units stood at full alert while posted at corner to corner. The only sound their harsh and unrelenting circuits made were the subtle ventilation noises from their output exhaust ports. They kept the prisoners in check and in line. The transmissions from the Nova Corps flight tower were broadcasted over the inside speakers of the dim and dry atmosphere of the dredge.
"Navicomp ceded over, tower. You’re in control." The pilot responded over the channel. From here on out, the Nova Corps would take care of the convicts for processing.
"Stand by for security sweep in three... two... mark." There was a brief pause over the communication speakers as the artificial intelligence ran a diagnosis check over the dredge’s external and internal functions; sweeping the systems for the most miniscule abnormalities and irregularities. "Security integrity confirmed. Initiating docking protocol..." The lumbering space brick made a quiet touchdown on the docks as it interlocked with the airlock systems; the rush of air could be heard venting through the systems as the artificial atmospheres could be heard matching each other’s proper amount of pressure. An automated message began streaming over the inside of the security speakers on repeat. "...All personnel. Nova Corps lockdown protocols are in effect. Proceed with extreme caution. All weapons are live."
At the processing checkpoint of the prison dredge, the captain and caretaker of the ship held a look of frustrated contempt in his bulbous, green, amphibian eyes. His reptilian tentacles folded across his chest in disappointment as the Nova Corps corpsmen beside his desk shook his head in confusion at the datapad in his hand. The Corpsmen’s eyes kept shifting back and forth between the information on the screen to the large, muscular, being with wrist restraints in front of them.
He was taller than most beings and twice as intimidating. Standing without any upper body apparel, the prisoner stood tall and silently with his chest bare; proudly displaying the large, red, striped tattoos adorning his olive green skin. The cumbersome mechanical restraints that bound his hands together, which normally were nearly impossible to escape from by the average intergalactic felon, seemed light and fragile around his presence. A strange sight to see from any being this far out on the rim, he wore a pair of dark khaki pants and work boots tailored for Terrans by Terrans; yet his obvious appearance suggested otherwise. With a red tattooed slash under each eye, he kept a square jaw in the presence of the law enforcement before him as they conversed between themselves—even with the two automated sentry droids poised and ready to fire behind him. His bald head tilted back slightly as a mechanic arm lowed from the ceiling and unbuckled the wrist restraints on his arms.
“Can we, like, go now?” A sarcastic, young, feminine voice came from beside the prisoner—just around his waist level. Yet another unfamiliar sight this far out from home, a young Terran girl tapped her boots impatiently as she folded her arms across her chest. The snow jacket she wore rustled across its own surface as she huffed a sigh with her cynical nature while slouching her neck. Her shoulder length dark hair dangled out from beneath her red beanie. No different from any other rebellious teenager her age, her silent guardian beside shot her a glance of imposing discretion that was easily ignored.
“I don’t like it.” The captain shifted his posture closer to the corpsmen as his shoulders slanted to the side.
The corpsmen tapped the side of the data pad with the edge of his palm as if to correct a technological error with manual violence. “None of us do.”
“Drax, A.K.A. The Destroyer… Charged with… Does that say two hundred thousand!?” The captain was caught by surprise at the data that was displayed in the terminal situated at his desk. The prisoner before him, Drax, remained silent at the information yet his austere and smaller companion naturally interjected.
“Bo-ring!” The little girl spoke enough for the two of them.
The captain shook his head in disbelief before repeated the exact fact which had caused him such dismay. “Two hundred thousand dead by his hand and we’ve got to let him go!?”
“Not by my hand.” Drax said in a solid and affirmative tone.
The Nova Corps corpsmen shook the datapad one last time before powering it off. “The genetic matrix readings don’t match. We can’t prove he’s who we know he is.”
“So he gets to walk on a technicality?” The captain scratched his bald scaly head with the blunt edge of his tentacle.
“But we can’t prove he’s Drax” The corpsman approached Drax, who easily towered over his height, waving his finger in his face. “Okay ‘Mister Unknown,’ as soon as the lockdown is lifted, you’re out of here. I don’t care where. ‘Til then you’re on a short leash, ‘Destroyer.’”
“Not by my hand.” Drax brought his empty gaze downwards at the lawman, that barked in his face, without flinching once. “Kree terrorists, Skrull settlement. Writes itself from there.”
The corpsman sneered in disbelief. “And you just along for the ride? I’m not buying it.”
The short Terran child naturally remarked with her blatant disrespect. “Ask if we care.”
“A Terran pup. And here I’d heard you’d gotten smarter.” Still aggravated over the present issue, the Nova Corps guard continued his condescending comments.
Drax smirked ever so slightly, revealing a small glint of emotion. “Yeah, she’s dangerous. Just look at her.”
The corpsman gritted his teeth in aggression, yet withheld his malicious intent at what sanctuary the law provided the prisoner before him. “Get out of my sight.”
Two automated sentries escorted the two, Drax and the child, through the halls. Wall to wall, the insides of the dredge were lined top to bottom with holding cells—each segment interconnected through bridges and passageways. Criminals and bandits that roamed the galaxy were now tightly squared away in their very own box for secure transport. Meanwhile, the two would no longer be joining the same accommodations of the convicts around them but find temporary confinement in the quarantine sector.
“Guess we told him.” The adolescent girl, Cammi, shrugged off in a tough yet un-amused manor.
“Remind me again, Cammi. Why am I putting up with you?” Drax said as he continued following the pathway that the two robots behind him guided them along.
“I own you. The Skrull guy gave you to me.” Cammi bragged lightly as she ducked her hands into her coat pockets.
Drax didn’t need a reminder, and brushed off the girl’s remark all the same—engaging back and forth in conversation with the girl. “Uh-huh.”
“Possession is nine-tenths of the law.” There was a light hint of joyous pestilence as she naturally continued to provoke her alien guardian.
“You can stop saying that.” Drax kept his comments short and intentions blunt.
“So can we leave?”
“No.”
“Why not? They can’t hold you if they can’t prove it’s you.”
“Full systemic lockdown. Something happened. Something big.”
“Like 9/11 big?”
Drax twisted his head to the side, staring down at Cammi. The girl had done nothing but flooded his presence with sarcastic catchphrases and sharp, offensive, and contemptuous quips. Yet this time, Drax didn’t quite get the exact meaning of what the numbers meant.
“Never mind.” Cammi disregarded her last remark. “Where are they taking us?”
“Someplace safer.” Drax nodded his head behind him at the cybernetic guards that followed their every movement. “For them.”
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Post by Uatu the Watcher on Jun 10, 2008 19:58:43 GMT -5
[Giffen, Keith (w), Scott Kolins with Ariel Olivetti (a), and June Chung (c)] “Annihilation Day.” Annihilation Prologue., #1, (May. 2006), Marvel Entertainment: [14-18]
Adapted By: Uatu, The Watcher
The auditorium at the Nova Corps central headquarters was lined wall to wall with enlisted centurions from all around the far reaches of the galaxy. In the giant sphere shaped confines of the hall, Nova centurions sat around the circular meeting station facing inwards to the center while chatting amongst each other over the situation. Only in the most dangerous and critical scenarios had they seen such a gathering like there was at that moment. Some hilariously scoffed off the immediate tension with sly remarks. Others took the dangers closer to heart, and kept a straightforward serious nature. And as always, there were those without fear that were ready to see the first fires of combat. The seats of the auditorium were filling quickly, and it was only a matter of time until the briefing commenced—naturally Rider, Pyo, and Samaya were some of the last to arrive.
“… Always wondered why we can’t just phase down to central instead of--” Rider, once finding his seat between Samaya and Pyo, began to question in casual small talk before being interrupted by the Rigelian.
“--How much do you know about phasing?” Crossing her arms and resting them against her chest, Pyo tilted her head over to the Richard.
Rider rested his gloved fingers atom the surface of his helmet which rested upright in his lap. “I know it scares the hell out of me. Teleporting… One glitch and you’re gone. For good. Stargates are safer.”
Pyo sighed, trying to explain the delicacy and complexity of technology unknown to the primitive cultures of the Terran’s people. “Safer but slower. Just because you can’t see nor feel a phase tube doesn’t mean it’s not there. There has to be a path to bond to; access, egress. Still with me?”
“I’m going to say… Yes.” Rider’s charm easily masked his confusion and slight apathy for the discussion.
“Cross two phase tubes and you scramble the signals.” Samaya spoke plainly beside Rider. “Scramble the signals and you wind up with all kinds of delightfully melded oddities.”
Richard kept his calm, cool, and collected attitude despite the technological vernacular that flew over his head. “Right. Scrambling the signals… Not good.”
“It’s why phasing hasn’t replaced star drive. Too many active tubes and the potential for disaster’s through the roof.” In her best efforts, Samaya tried to break it down to Richard just how dangerous a simple teleport could be just before an electronic tone sounded inside the halls of the auditorium.
The lights of the room began to lower in intensity as the calm and ordered electronic voice of the auditorium’s automated systems let out a small, but brief, buzzing ring before announcing the briefing’s beginning. "Stand by for Xandar Worldmind operational brief in three... two... attend."
At the very center of the sphere shaped assembly room’s ground floor, a smoothly designed levitating platform slowly ascended upwards to the very center of area for all the seated Nova centurions to see—quietly restraining their various conversations at the sight of the Chief of the Nova Corps. Her face remained firm and unflinching as she approached the podium before her and instantly cut the formalities of the usual assemblies and dove directly into the heart of the matter. With the mass of the Nova Corps. Finest enlisted officers surrounding her, she knew there was little time to waste. “I’m going to keep this mercifully brief. The Worldmind’s intelligence will be uploaded to the common band. Make use of it. Short form: At approximately 0930 prior cycle, a force or forces unknown devastated the primary Kyln array. The Kyln are down. The Kyln, as you know, are, first and foremost, power-generating units. This means that we’ve got more than two hundred planetary systems on secondary energy feeds and that’s not going to hold up much longer. Power goes down, civil unrest goes up, especially out there on the verge. A show of force should dissuade all but the hardcore element and since theory’s all we’ve got to go on just now, thirteenth through twenty-seventh peacekeeping battalions will reinforce localized Omega Core forces. High profile people. We want them to know we’re there.”
“That’s me and mine, scut work. Why am I not surprised?” Samaya said under her breath to Richard beside her. She rubbed her chin with a musing and moderate interest as she skimmed through the briefing files presented on the monitor before her.
Richard couldn’t help but feel a sudden irregularity that stuck out more predominantly than the usual activities of the Nova Corps. “This sounding a bit… military to you? I mean, we’re cops. Right?”
The Chief’s voice came out as clear as day in the audio ports before the three, as well as every other Centurion in the room too far away to hear. “Secondly, and no less critical, Kyln are death penalty exclusive, maximum security prisons housing lost-cause criminal deviants.”
Pyo crossed her arms and heaved a breath of air. “Told you--Growing hair nonsense!”
“Kyln go down, inmates run free. Inmates run free… I’m sure you can fill in the rest.” The Chief kept on a constant and steady path as she continued with the briefing. “Since we’ve no way of knowing the extent of the damages sustained, we’ve no way of knowing how many inmates might have survived. We’re opting for a worst-case scenario. I want all Nova Corps precincts at full alert. The Nova Corps Worldmind has enabled full power for all Nova Corps officers. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that collateral damage is, if at all possible, to be kept to a minimum. That said, if it comes to us or them… Make it them.”
Outside the central hub of the Xandar cluster, patrolling the perimeter of the interconnected systems, Nova Corps’ very own star fleet waited patently in formation as always. Protecting the headquarters of their own organization, cruisers and freighters varying from size to size remained stationary in the cold of space on high alert. Proudly flying the Nova Corps red and gold colors, the chief’s speech was broadcasted into each individual ship—briefing even the fleet crews on the statistics of the current situation.
“And just in case you don’t think it can get any worse, we’ve lost contact with all but three Omega Core precincts and the star systems under their jurisdiction. Whatever’s out there is still on the move and the Worldmind’s intel is fragmented at best. If the star chart readings are accurate, and logistics thinks they are, a good portion of whatever’s out there is two star systems short of us and on the move. That buys us a bit of time. Tactical updates are being uploaded to your personal unicoms. You’ll find your orders there.”
Before the massive assembly of Nova ships, a small visual disruption began to occur in the far distance. At first, the mere white light seemed no more suspicious than the thousands of other stars that illuminated the open space all around. Yet it seemed to give off just a tad more illumination than any of the other lights of the surroundings. The pilots and technicians on the first line of the star fleets defense took little notice to the anomaly. No red lights flashed. No alarms or klaxons sounded. No abnormal readings or even questionable heat signatures. Just another brief space phenomenon. Perhaps just another red giant going supernova. Or even a brief collection of radioactive particles dissipating into nothing. But before even more interest could be spared from the attention given to the Chief’s speech to the curious light source, the small white burning glow began to rapidly intensify in brightness and size. It gave off a brilliant blue haze as its circular radius began advancing rapidly in mass.
“The entire Xandar system is locked down. That means if it’s out there and it’s not one of ours, consider it hostile. Nova corps central assumes full responsibility for friendly fire. I know you’ve got questions, but they’re going to have to wait. We’re alpha response and that means actions over words.”
The Nova fleet had virtual no time to respond to the first strike as the immeasurable horde of countless hostile and foreign ships cut through their fleet’s defensives like an unstoppable wildfire. The light and birthed the wave of destruction upon the Starfleet and caught its entire system off guard. Millions of merciless units slashed, scorched, ripped and annihilated their way past the Nova ships from the stargate that had made their arrival practically undetectable until it was too late. Not a single ship of the Nova Corps fleet got off a shot before billions of rays of burning death pierced their outer holes and turned them into exposing balls of fiery debris while instantly incinerating the troops inside. The insect-like spacecraft plowed into ship after ship while tearing through their surfaces without halting in speed. It was mob. A swarm. A legion of remorseless slayers overwhelming the strength of Nova’s entire space armada in mere seconds—turning their attention to the unprotected biospheres of Xandar behind them.
“We do as we’ve always done. We stand as Nova Corps. You’ve got your orders. Make it happen. Dismiss--” The chief’s last few syllables were cut off by the sudden eruption of several loud thunderous alarms that reverberated around the auditorium walls. The large spherical light that illuminated the halls darkened into a deep emergency red. The sudden interruption was accompanied by the A.I. automated alert response systems; the electronic voice announced the status of incident.
"Alpha breach restricted space violation incoming confirmed. Security beacon 001 illegal incursion confirmed. Security beacon 002 illegal incursion confirmed. Security beacon 003 illegal incursion confirmed. Perimeter breach Xandar cluster security web."
The words announced were sprayed across the monitors before the Nova centurions like an infections rash. Flashing red and repeating over again. The entire room seem to be taken aback in shock. “Nothing moves that fast.” Voices and words scuttled through the crowds of the officers. “By the lights of Spectra Nebula.” All around, the concern and surprise of the troops could be heard and seen. “Are we even slowing them…” For a brief moment, the courage of the Nova Corps was challenged. “God.” But even in the face of danger, the fear was short lived and returned with unquestionable bravery and honor.
“Oh crap…” Rider remarked with a twisted and fearful expression sprawled all across his surprised face.
The electronic voice continued to dictate the information over the speakers. "Source/sources unknown negative match on known hostiles."
“So many of us…” a voice behind Rider was one of the last words he heard before the Chief cried out before all the Novas. A look of defiant prowess filled her he eyes that eliminated all fear and doubt before shouting.
“It’s them, they’re here! SCRAMBLE!”
Novas about and around began placing their helmets atop their heads while still commenting over the surprise assault. “…Cutting through us like…” All over, they began ascending into the air above them, arms raised to the sky as the top of the auditorium retracted. “All dead…” Hundreds of Nova centurions, the vanguard of the main force, rocketed up into the atmosphere to fight the menace. “Right under our…”
Richard’s helmet flapped about like a loose piece of cloth in his hand until it solidified into a strengthened ceramic-like surface with a flick of his wrist. “What happened to ‘two star systems away?’” He pulled the mask over his face as he patted the top of the dome with a hollow pat.
“Oops!” Samaya said as she slid her own custom Nova helmet over her face, firmly fitting around her Centaurian crest.
Rider’s head dropped as his neck hunched between his shoulders. “Oops!?”
“You’re with me, Rider.” Samaya ascended into the sky, directly out of her seat, as Pyo and Richard followed directly behind her.
His left arm extended, guiding his flight, Richard turned over to Pyo who flew beside him, both arms extended, and commented as to the quick yet stern response that Samaya had shown. “Samaya ever strike you as grim, Pyo?”
“No,” Pyo bluntly disagreed without averting her gaze before her. “Just experienced, dink.”
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Post by Uatu the Watcher on Jun 10, 2008 19:59:21 GMT -5
[Giffen, Keith (w), Scott Kolins with Ariel Olivetti (a), and June Chung (c)] “Annihilation Day.” Annihilation Prologue., #1, (May. 2006), Marvel Entertainment: [16, 20-21]
Adapted By: The Punisher
A simple plated glass window separated Drax between inside the Prison Dredge’s quarantine quarters and freedom. He faced the star bursting view of open space before him—gazing into the distance. Occasionally, his eyes would blink along with the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest. Beside him, his impatient young Terran partner paced the walls of the cell while scuffing her boots against the gritty floor. She’d occasionally stop before the armed sentry unit and demand it to perform obscure tasks. Cammi’s demoralizing gazes coupled with random and insulting quips, such as commands for the robot to microwave her some ‘eats’ or wash her beanie, made the sentry symphonize with Drax’s glum mood.
Yet Drax’s attention still remained elsewhere, even as a faint blue light began to enlarging in the distance. Brighter than any star around it, there was something far from normal about its presence. He inched closer to the glass as his stare intensified at the anomaly.
Cammi took interest into what her property had been startled about. She looked out into the advancing blue illumination “I’m going to guess that’s not something pleasant.”
“Cammi…” Drax wrapped his large hands over the scruff of Cammi’s jacket collar. “We’re leaving.”
“I knew it! I knew it!” Her feet were lifted from the ground as Drax turned about to face the robotic guard which took notice to his hostile stance.
"Don’t even think it..." It’s mechanical voice showed no fear, as its programming had intended it to, but it did present a sense of uncertainty—priming it’s two arm cannons with an electronic whining as Drax took his first step.
Drax rushed forward, crossing the short distance in a split second as his massive fist crushed through the sentry’s breastplate and shredded it straight down the center. Its last vocal communication was garbled as it’s audio circuits were crumpled into scrap. "DestrOOOGH!"
“Was that smart?” Cammi said as Drax holstered her underneath his arm, tucked underneath his armpit like a small puppy bouncing up and down while she looked upon the smashed remains of the guard.
“For the last time…” Drax pulled straight through the thickly plated quarantine door as if it had been no thinner than a sheet of brittle paper. “Shut! Up!”
His footsteps reverberated off the holding walls as he sprinted down the pathways. They pounded against the metal like thunderous drum beats—until the loud footsteps themselves were overwhelmed with subtle sounds of war outside the dredge. They were rarely noticeable at first, but quickly changed from small pops and low surges of energy into full-blown explosions and hull breaches. Running through the mass collection of prisoners trapped in their cells, Cammi looked on as they banged on their doors for release as the walls about began erupting with fire. They were under attack, and all of them were left inside to die. Balls of flame engulfed prisoners in an instant as they cried for help. Platforms and bridge ways all around began to crack and tumble as prison security guards fell to their deaths. Drax pounded his legs at each stride he took, rushing trough falling debris nearly inches away from crushing him and Cammi flat. Running past and over dead prisoners and guards. He continued making his way though the Dredge as it fell apart around them.
“This is really bad! Right!?” Cammi quipped form under Drax’s arm, facing behind him, she could barely look behind her to see exactly where they were going.
“That’s one way of putting it.” Drax said as he leapt across a gap in the walkway before him, landing and perusing forward without halting.
“I mean, really, really bad--” Cammi kept her usual banter at the normal pessimistic and cynical way before Drax interrupted her.
“So… You want me to drop you?” The landing beneath them began to crumble and drop as Drax outran the destruction.
Cammi watched as the ground before her fell downwards until the almost endless pit beneath them—herself and Drax nearly seconds away from plummeting to their deaths. “Shutting up now.”
“Good girl.” Drax made it to the next landing before rushing past one of the security stations below them. They frantically paced back and forth between terminal and terminal with sweat on their brows. Emergency and alert screens flooded the monitors as radio traffic buzzed in through their communicators.
“Blow the cellblock shields!” One shouted to his subordinate suppressing his full sense of panic.
The lower ranked officer shot his head around him with a quick glance; hesitant to return the order. “But--”
“We can’t leave the prisoner’s trapped to die!” The guard screamed back, knowing that the ship was about to go down he did what protocol had mandated he must do. With a series of override codes, the surviving prisoners of the dredge were released from their cells—left to fend for their own to escape the sinking ship they had been brought to justice inside.
Making his way past the worst, dodging through hallway after hallway, Drax stopped short of his destination to survey and plan his next move. Placing his hand on the doorway, he peeked around the corner at the mob of staff support that screamed aloud attempting to push past the ship’s guards which kept them at bay. Trying to discern the crew from the criminals, they held the line with shock sticks and rifles—guarding the entrance to the escape pods.
“… Ranking Nova Corps officials to the front!” The high ranked guard commanded behind the line, yelling over the mob of survivors that desperately tried to escape as the ship roared and shook about them.
“Clear pod access! Crimson clearance and above!” One guarded stated, letting only clearance to just one technician at a time. They scrambled past and ducked into the shuttle bay entrances before strapping themselves inside. “We are lethal-force enabled!” Another commented, aiming his rifle into the crowd and fanning it across the length. Still, the mob rioted and screamed in panic—fighting for their lives to try and get through.
Fortunately, for Drax and Cammi, they had arrived opposite the wall they had been barricading. With the guard’s back to their entrance, Drax tried to sneak past into the nearest open shuttle bay door but his towering form was too tall to go unnoticed.
“Hey!” The chief guard turned about and raised his rifle to shoulder level. “Where d’you think you-WHUGH!”
His threat was easily dismissed as Drax pushed him with excessive force into the wall beside him with a simple strike of the back of his hand. “Move, meat.”
The inner red lights of the shuttle were dimmed to alert status as Drax had to duck his head to fit through the door. The ship itself was no less then three meters wide; now made smaller by Drax’s large presence. His right arm extended as he tossed Cammi backwards into one of the shuttle’s seats—lining the walls of its small confined quarters. “Strap in!”
“Yeek!” Cammi yelled as her back flew into the seat with a soft clud. Her small form flapped away from Drax’s grasp like a rag doll.
Drax palmed the shuttle’s door control with one push. The entrance sealed shut as the inside of the spacecraft pressurized for space travel. It was then, that Drax took notice of the short and stout technician that cowered in his seat. He looked up at Drax as his spectacles fogged up with fear. Drax towered over the small prison crewmen—the staff member clutched the datapad in his lap with fear as the convict approached him. “Are these things programmed to fly themselves to safety?”
“I… I… I…” The technician could barely get a word out as Drax brought his intimidating face mere inches before his own. The sweat on his forehead thickened as the words Drax spoke may as well been in a foreign language.
“Good enough!” Drax smacked the launch terminal with edge of his fist—sounding an electronic ring. The internal systems announced the action through the pod’s speakers.
"LAUNCH SEQUENCE INITIATED."
Cammi struggled to reach for the seat’s restrains at the sound of the ship’s thrusters igniting. “Hey! Waitaminnit! I’m not--” Thrown back in her seat, she held on for dear light as the shuttle raced out from the Dredge’s hangar. The force against her pressed her back in the seat as she looked upwards through the pod’s only viewing port. Drax’s hand crossed her vision as he locked the seat’s restraint over her chest. He himself, too big for the seat, stood beside her and braced himself against the wall. An outlining flash outside the window lined the edges and both of them knew exactly what it was. The Dredge was gone, leaving it just in time—they had been the lucky ones who had survived. But their luck was loosing its potency, as they watched the view before them grow closer and closer. They watched as alien invaders throughout the space tore and rip a clearing through Xandar’s forces and swarm the central hub before them; their next destination.
“This thing… It knows how to land itself, right, Drax?” Cammi said as she locked her arms around Drax’s massive bicep. He kept his gaze upwards, out the window above them as the pod skyrocketed towards the hub. The pod shook and rumbled as explosions went off outside of it.
“Drax?” Cammi questioned as her personal property remained silent. “DRAX!?”
The shuttle continued its way towards the heart of Xandar—but whether the system would still be there when they landed was still unknown to them both.
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Post by Uatu the Watcher on Jun 10, 2008 19:59:58 GMT -5
[Giffen, Keith (w), Scott Kolins with Ariel Olivetti (a), and June Chung (c)] “Annihilation Day.” Annihilation Prologue., #1, (May. 2006), Marvel Entertainment: [22-31]
Adapted By: Uatu, The Watcher
The sky over Xandar rivaled the end of all time as the mysterious invading forces swarmed the large transparent dome that encased the main hub. Their green shell-like husks buzzed over the surface like a plague of pestilence. Their claws scrapped and tore at its surface while their burning rays of death burned holes and melted away its structure. Large, monstrous warships lumbered in from the black of space—through the easily swept aside Nova armada—and descended towards the hubs. More and more endless amounts of reinforcements poured out from its hangars that raced through the gaps and holes they had made of Xandar’s dome. Fire and debris rocked the surroundings of the city as the invaders bombed and ravaged the surroundings. Civilians and children alike fled in fear for their lives but found no sanctuary. All too quickly were the people of Xandar engulfed by the rampaging death machine that took no quarter and gave no mercy. In a final stand, the valiant few that remained of the Nova Crops would not let these harbingers of doom take one more innocent life without paying the cost of their own—and by their sworn code, it was sacrificed as so.
Bits and pieces of scrap metal rained all around Richard and the surrounding Novas. Intercepting Nova vehicles were blown out of the sky before they even had a chance to retaliate. Still, he and the last of the Nova troops fought forward, hard and fast, to counter the threat. They rocketed up into the sky, towards the annihilating force, to fight them back from whence they came.
“They cut through the primary perimeter!? You mean up in orbit?” Richard shouted towards Samaya as they both streamed through the air, dodging falling debris as the world erupted in war all around them.
“We’re freeform hit and run.” Samaya called back. The two were surrounded by a dozen other Nova centurions who rushed to battle beside them—taking in the orders Samaya announced. “We cripple as many of them as we can before they can make planet-fall.”
Before they knew what was upon them, hot burning pieces of scrap and metal rained down upon them like small meteorites. Some rushed down the size of small pebbles that bounced off their uniforms—others fell downwards bigger than a small shuttle. Rider raised his hands above his face as he was pummeled with debris, grunting and wincing as they scorched the outside of his armor. Other Nova centurions weren’t so lucky, as they were hammered right out of the sky; swat down like a small insect with little enough remaining to even fall to the ground. Already, they were greeted with casualties before even encountering any hostiles.
Samaya threw up her collapsible riot shield which took the blunt of the impact as the falling scarps bounced and collided against it. “YAA--Can’t Hold’em…” All around, they could hear the final screams and cries of her fellow brothers in arms while shards from the perimeter’s dome cut though them like paper. But the smaller pieces of debris were the least of her worries, as a large power cable, twice the width of her own body, crashed into her stomach; knocking her out of the sky. It leaked fuel and coolant, most likely from one of the Nova cruisers that had met an early demise.
“Samaya!” She heard Rider scream as the wind was knocked out from her lungs. It was futile to fight gravity. It was a one way trip down from here on out. The impact and left her week and dazed. The world was thrown upside down as she tumbled about through her descent. Spinning around caught in a twisted death trap. She could smell the ruptured fuel likes linking from the scorched cable and it was only a matter of time before it caught on with a spark from what resilient energy flowed from its power cells. Luckily for her, it’d be a quick death.
But Richard Rider had other plans. Swooping down from the air, propelling himself at skyrocketing speeds, the human rocket plunged both his fists forward, ripping through the cable on impact. With a mighty hug, he wrapped his arms around Samaya, and banked at a one hundred eighty degree turn, and flew upward. “Gotcha! Stop squirming!” He could feel the heat of the ruptured power cable explode behind him as he carried Samaya underneath his arms.
As Richard carried Samaya upwards away from the imminent danger behind them, she barely offered a single gesture of appreciation for the life he had saved before quickly commenting on more current problems. “Worldmind’s A.I’s been corrupted!”
“You’re welcome!” Richard said sarcastically under duress as he raised his fist to the sky and continued to ascend towards the bulk of the invading masses.
“Rider… You don’t understand… Worldmind’s comms are down!” Samaya tried to explain to Richard and break past his inflated ego which still remained boisterous with prowess from his fearless rescue. “The Worldmind’s the Corps’ eyes and ears. If it’s down… we’re blind and deaf!”
Coming to a slow and uneasy halt, Richard came to a pause in mid flight. His jaw lowered slowly into a gaping stare at the sight before him at the imminent and dreadful sight he gazed at. Samaya was quickly parlayed herself by the same halting gaze while Richard poetically commented on the situation with the grace and elegance he had been accustomed too. “And screwed… Most definitely screwed…”
The Novas had no idea exactly what to call it or how to describe it. It’s given name was could surely not truly emphasize exactly what it’s true intent and purpose consisted of. It lumbered across the Xandar skyline like a cloud but couldn’t be any further from that. It was circular in form, and nearly half the height of some of Xandar’s tallest buildings. It’s dull and putrid green surface seemed to seep with a slimily coated substance that clung to the surface like an unnerving adhering ooze. It slowly floated along its given path, a giant orb in the sky, while surrounded with large eerily glowing holes that gave forth a squeamish yellow light on every axis of its shape. Yet these openings shot forth no lasers. No missiles. No bombs. Not even a trace of nerve gas. What poured out from them by the sheer millions was much more threatening than any ordinance. Unlike weapons, these had intelligence. A mind. A motive. A goal. And there was no safety or disarm mechanism to shut them off. What flowed from the hovering warship’s holes were tip of the invading forces spear itself—the infantry. They rained out from the openings as if someone had punctured a hole in a sandbag. An endless flowing mass of shock troopers. They fell down from the sky curled up in their round shells like small bugs before unraveling into their grotesque insect-like forms. By the thousands they clung to buildings and swarmed their surfaces like locust. They secreted a liquid like residue which dissolved whatever it touched within a matter of seconds. And with their sizable force carrying the numbers they did, even the tallest and strongest buildings of Xandar were dissolved and disintegrated within minutes. The alien invaders engulfed the skyscrapers with their secretion as they shriveled and collapsed into smoking deformed piles of melted scrap—sparing no mercy for the poor civilians stuck inside.
On the streets, the insect hostiles unraveled from their spherical form and took no hesitation before spraying fanning forth death rays from the organic weapons mounted upon their back. It burned through and over the mass of inhabitants that fled on the streets. And for those not incinerated by their munitions were shortly cut down afterwards by their ruthless claws and drooling mandibles. They ripped and tore civilians apart limb from limb, ignoring their pleas for help and mercy. They showed no remorse. No pity. No regret. Still, the Novas fought on.
On the street, Nova centurions evacuated survivors off the street by literally loading several civilians on large sheets of metal and flying them off the ground to sanctuary. Meanwhile, other Nova centurions, millennians, corpsmen, and denarians stood their ground and fought off the invaders—no mater how futile it was.
“Suppressing fire! Let’s get these citizens clear!” A Nova millennian cried out from behind the stationary turret as he fired the cannon outward at the oncoming forces. Blue plasma ripped through the oncoming insects with ease, yet their infinite numbers were replaced in seconds. “Fire at will! Fire at will!” The Nova centurion officer cried from behind the ranks, as the cannon continued to fire onward with each relentless blast. It made little impact on the enemy, yet it covered the Novas who evacuated the civilians from the nearby buildings and roads. “They’re not going down!” Another millennia shouted as the threat continued to advance. Red streams of death flew past and over their heads. The alien forces continued to advance despite how many of them were struck down. For every single insect that fell, ten more took its place. They continued to rain down from the sky and replace their fallen and strengthen their force. The battle lines inched closer with each passing moment.
It wasn’t long before the Nova forces were overwhelmed by the creature’s clamoring claws and clattering pincers. They rushed and trampled the Novas’ defensives. “They’re n--” There were little words made as the Novas were overrun. Crushed. Punctured. Impaled.
Across the way, Richard watched with fear and anger all mixed into one ball of rage as the Nova Tower fell before his very eyes. The headquarters buckled and dissolved into rubble as thousands of insect troops clung to its outer surface and gnawed, burned, and shredded their way through its hull. The red crest of the Nova’s proud insignia was the last to fall as it disintegrated into nothingness.
One Nova cried out from behind Richard as they hid for cover. Beams and lasers crashed all about them, striking the fallen debris they used to shield themselves from the onslaught. “Too many! There are--”
“More fight, less talk!” Samaya interrupted the stressed Nova—trying to rally what courage remained among the remaining Novas. “We’ve got to get gone! This whole structure’s coming apart!”
“Easier to say than do! Anyone who moves gets cut to ribbons!” The same frightened Nova called back as he ducked behind cover.
As the cover behind Richard was pelted with blast after blast, the Terran Nova stood up, his back facing the wall, and gazed over his shoulder at the advancing enemies. He clenched his hands together into fists as he squared his jaw at the endless advancements of the insects. “Yeah, but it’s indiscriminate fire! They’ll sacrifice their own to get at us!” Behind his helmet, his eyes glinted with a hazardous daring with bolstered his spirit with valor and courage. “Time we used that against them.”
“Against…?” Samaya was hesitant to understand what exactly Richard meant.
But before Samaya’s questions could be answered, Rider had already burst out from behind their cover and rocketed outward to engage the insect hostiles. “Following my lead and keep moving. Random patterns!”
“Rider!?” Samaya’s uncertainly was soon answered as she watched Richard race through the air at amazing speeds, twisting and turning and his reversing direction. The path he flew had no clear course, just a random series of flight patterns all around the enemy forces. He crashed through enemies, one after another, crushing and smashing their exoskeletons like glass as he flew circles around their heads. They fired blindly in all directions while their lasers whisked past him nearly grazing his skin. As they shot wildly trying to take the Nova down, their own fire poured directly into their own numbers. Their failed and missed shots, as Richard had planned, struck their own troops. By their own hands, they were destroying themselves for the Novas. No mater how many of their own they cut down to try and kill the Nova, they continued to fire on.
“I’ll be jaggered. He’s got them taking each other down!” Samaya’s optimism was shared mutually along with the other Novas who accompanied her. The inspiring sight of the Terran fighting back the invaders, risking his own life, caused Samaya to rocket out from her position and rush into battle. “Count me in!”
“You heard the fem! We are go!” One Nova shouted as he left from cover, shortly behind Samaya, and rocketed off to counter the threat. “Got the will! Got the way! Let’s take it to them!” One Nova became two. Two becoming three. Three to four. “Go, Novas! Go!” The centurions valiantly cried out as they raced off into battle. They dodged, they bashed, the fought numerous odds while facing annihilation, yet continued to strive on.
The Novas used the enemies’ own attacks against them as they lured them to fire into their own forces. Risking their lives to save the planet Xandar, they put themselves in the invaders’ crosshairs and took their abuse—but not without taking as many of them down with them before falling in battle.
Richard Rider bravely raced around the skies of Xandar, avoiding incoming fire. Swerving left. Banking right. And with one final swoop, he raced across the surface of an approaching heavy cruiser, trailing a hellfire cluster of lasers in his path as they struck behind him and across the enemy ship’s surface; splitting it right down the center. The cruiser cracked into two pieces with a loud and thunderous explosion. But before their was time to bask in the insignificant, yet courageous, victory they had achieved, Richard was halted in mid fight by a blazing ball of fire that descended from the sky.
There were few words that Richard could enunciate at sight of the massive fireball falling from the stars. “Wh?” He mumbled as it slowly plummeted down towards the main hub. From as far away as he was, Richard could feel the heat of the flames on his face. It engulfed nearby ships and enemies, large and small, in its enlarged mass. Samaya joined Rider’s side as she looked upon the falling star as it burned its path through the artificial atmosphere of Xandar. From what the two could gauge, the diameter of the falling fire was at least a fifth the size of the main hub—and it was only moments away from impacting into the heart of Xandar. None would survive.
“We’ll never get clear!” Samaya cried out under the thunderous roar of the falling mass.
“What is that!” Rider’s mind, though gripped with fear, couldn’t help but question exactly what would befall the fate of Xandar.
“Squint past the burn!” Samaya responded as the gripped Richard’s shoulders. “It’s the spaceport!”
The alien invaders had managed to fully annihilate the Xandar spaceport. They had turned the actively functioning and fully populated space terminal into a flaming comet of destruction. Already thrown out of orbit, it was on a path of complete extermination. The Novas were already outnumbered and overpowered, facing very little chances of actual survival from the insect armada that had ripped their defensives apart in less than an hour, but now their rate for survival had dwindled down to zero.
Samaya had already begun to loose all hope. “We’ll never get clear before it--”
Richard shook Samaya by the shoulders, bringing her face close to his. He lowered his voice, a last attempt to calm Samaya down before revealing his insane yet plausible idea. “Prime your gear for deep space!”
“What…?” She had already gone far past the breaking point. Already too much had happened too fast and too soon. Desperately seeking mental stability, she looked to Richard for guidance.
“It’s coming apart! We can’t go around, so--” Holding on to Samaya, he raced upwards and ascended towards the falling spaceport. “--We’re going through!”
“You can’t be serious!?” Samaya remarked as the two entered the massive fireball, back to back, dodging the flaming debris as the surroundings came apart around them. Everywhere was aflame. Burning wildly out of control. Together, they raced through the collapsing surroundings. Their suits kept them from burning up and catching fire, but they could feel the heat all the same. They kept on course despite the hardships of their escape. Left and right, they whisked past falling scrap and even smaller fireballs. “I think I should point out…” Samaya turned closer inwards to Rider, despite the emanate danger of a violent and painful death all around them. “If you pull this off, I’ll mate with you for life.”
“Oh, that is so a deal!” Rider enthusiastically replied with a childish yet carefree smirk on his face. But as soon as he took his eyes off the path before him to look upon Samaya, a blazing piece of debris, roughly a little larger than his own boot, crashed into Samaya’s face, taking her head clean off her shoulders. Less than a minute ago, she had been just as close to surviving the entire assault Richard. But within the blink of an eye, it was all over.
“SAMAYA! NO!” Rider screamed in torment as he watched Samaya’s decapitated body fall away from him. Distracted, Richard could not see the large piece of burning scrap come crashing downwards into his stomach, pinning him down as it descended to the Xandar main hub along with the rest of the spaceport. The impact left him dazed, yet he knew what he had to do. The air rushed past his face, scorching his hands and arms as he tried to push the burning debris away—yet his hands caught aflame as he felt his entire body heat up to scorching temperatures. “No! Too fast! It’s all happening too fast!”
And before Richard Rider knew it, the spaceport crashed into Xandar’s main hub. The blast rocked the surrounding ports of Xandar in an immense shockwave of destruction. Though the explosion caught many of the insect forces in its wake, it was only a fraction of its actual fleet. Just like the Kyln before it, Xandar had fallen to the might of the mysterious annihilating force. This time, the universally renowned Nova Corps, guardians of the galaxy, could not even hinder its unstoppable death march across the galaxy. The once proud Xandar system, that had already faced annihilation long beforehand and survived, had finally been wiped off the face of existence. But even though all was lost, hope would still remain.
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Post by Uatu the Watcher on Jun 10, 2008 20:00:54 GMT -5
[Giffen, Keith (w), Scott Kolins with Ariel Olivetti (a), and June Chung (c)] “Annihilation Day.” Annihilation Prologue., #1, (May. 2006), Marvel Entertainment: [32-35]
Adapted By: Uatu, The Watcher
There was little to be seen after the pain he felt surging around his body. It was an old reoccurring trauma that ravaged his system. Sitting in the black, all there was left to do was feel. The lungs were week, filled with smoke. They choked his respiratory system to near asphyxiation but still his chest muscles found a way to keep the blood flowing. But with every inhale and exhale he took, he could feel his shattered ribs wince and creek with pain inside his chest. But it all felt the same to him. Pain. Over and over again. With the loud dulling ring that sounded off through his ear drums, the surroundings were too chaotic to even hear his own breath. There was nothing to see. No voices. No help. Nothing. Was this death? An eternity of suffering in the darkness? He could feel his limbs ache with a bruised fragility. He found agony in places he never felt before. With the taste of dry blood in the back of his mouth he felt that even if he had enough contents left in his stomach his body would be too weak to produce a gag reflex strong enough to vomit. It was a warm and lackluster taste. Dried spit and saliva mixed with his very own life giving ichor. The pleasantries, or lack thereof, seemed overwhelming. But considering the present circumstances, there was little left to be done. But worst of all, in the dark afterlife that had embraced him, was the smell. The burning and putrid stench of sulfur that filled his nostrils with each passing breath. Dead flesh burning about. Charred remains filling the nearby surroundings with their deathly aroma. Out of it all, the pain and suffering, the scent was the worst—and Richard Rider couldn’t wait a second longer to bare through it.
But there was, occasionally, a soothing chill that would whisk over the back of his neck. Like an ice cube. A snowflake. A cold whisper that beckoned his awakening. It could have been his spirit. His conscious. Fighting for dear life. Begging him not to slip away into the hereafter just yet. The pain was great, yet the relief was small and few. All he needed to do was lay down just a little longer, and his troubles would be no more. No more suffering. No more fighting. Just an eternity of peace.
Yet this small hint of a winter chill, which rushed past his ears in its small insignificant quantities, brought Richard to realize he just wasn’t dead yet. The Nova Corps. Xandar. Somehow, by a small chance, he had survived. Maybe it was luck. Maybe for a purpose. Either way, though the pain was great it was the gift of life that seemed much more rewarding.
Still surrounded by darkness, Richard twisted his chest and felt the earth around him tremble and shutter. Pebbles, rocks, and plaster shifted off his form and slid past his face—over his eyes. His lungs screamed for relief as he coughed to clear his air passageways. The tips of his fingers stung fiercely as he felt around in the pitch black for something. Anything. The cold chill had resurrected him from his slumber. A natural reflex, his leg jolted as he shifted positions; surprising him with a ravage shock of agony. There was rarely a part of him that didn’t feel torment. It all seemed so much more convenient and comfortable to just lay down and accept eternity. But Richard fought on.
Finally, a flash in the darkness But gone. What was it? The trauma had been so great he hadn’t even recognized his own hand in the light. Raising his arm up again, it caught a small glint of illumination from far behind him. In the brief sunlight, he could see the tattered and blood soaked remains of his uniform clinging to his skin—but at this point in time, it didn’t matter to him anymore.
Turning about, he could see the exit in sight. A bright light from an opening in the debris that encased him. He was buried. Deep. How deep or how far it was from the surface didn’t concern Richard. He could see the opening before him. And it didn’t matter how far he needed to crawl.
Richard could feel the earth trembled around him as he worked his arms and legs closer and closer to the brisk cool breeze of new air in front of him. He could see just how badly his body was injured with each pace he crawled closer to the light. He coughed and spat out the dirt and grime that collected in the back of his throat and on the surface of his lips. And when Richard reached the outside, he knew it wasn’t a dream after all.
“Not… Not dead yet…” His voice seemed week and raspy. His throat ached as if he hadn’t spoken in over a thousand days. “Let’s hear it for life sup-support…” His legs trembled as his boots searched for structure and support while picking himself up off the ground. “Nuh uh… Lessee wh… See what’s up there waiting…” His speech slurred with the overly excessive amounts of cuts and bruises on his face. Looking up to the sky, he saw Xandar like he had never seen it before. Annihilated.
The artificial dome collected large massive clouds of black smoke atop its surface, blocking out the light from the nearby sun to light the devastated city. Fires continued to rage deep beneath the surface of the cityscape while empty hollow collapsed structures, that were once buildings, towered off the ground like twisted and derelict shacks. Once a thriving community of the universe’s brightest and prosperous beings, the destroyed buildings remained as gravestones for the billions of lives that had perished not too earlier that very day. But Richard’s view was limited. He could only see so far; and what he saw didn’t look well at all. He would need to ascend. Climb higher. Survey the damage. Search for the emergency response teams that would be looking for him this very moment. Yet he was so far down, it’d be a long climb and an even more dangerous fall.
“Awful high…” Richard noted as he looked into the sky above him, there was a way up. As difficult as it would be to traverse the unstable remains, he could make it. His suit was damaged far beyond repair at the time. The uniform could malfunction at the worst possible moment, making flight out of the question. He would rather risk the long and tedious process of scaling the treacherous height than take the risk of having thrust be cut off mid distance—and plummet to his death. His head tilted back at the towering height of the wrecked construction before him. Feeling light headed at the sight, he snapped his head forward. Clearly, he had received more head trauma than he had originally thought. “Nuh uh… Almos’ zoned out… nuh…”
Despite the dangers, Richard climbed anyway. At first, his muscles strained and ached ferociously as he applied pressure on his arms and legs; pushing himself upwards. His fingers twitched franticly and gripped tightly for structure and support as he lifted himself upwards. One landing after the next. Richard suppressed the pain. All he had to do was endure a little discomfort before being rescued. Once he could reach higher ground, he knew he could signal down some help; and then he could feel as horrible as he wanted while recuperating in intensive care. Already it was too late to turn back. He had climbed too far. Wind rushed past him the higher he ascended while smoke bellowed across his back from all around. Each time he pulled himself upward there was a hint of relief to how close he was to the end. Safety was at the top of the towering mass of rubble he ascended. But with each step he made, the tower screeched and shook with each temporary loss of stability. But the end was in sight. With one final push, Richard heaved himself on the apex of the building. Straightening himself upwards, he looked outward towards the horizon of Xandar as all blood drained from his heart.
“No…” The shock of the scene was all too much. It was gone. All of it. “Xandar… The Corps!...” Richard took off his helmet before falling to his knees. There were no survivors. No emergency rescue teams. Nothing. The entire hub was a barren and devastated metallic wasteland for as far as his eyes could see. “Can’t be… No…” he gritted his teeth. His eyes filled with tears. His fists clenched tightly as they pounded the surface below him. They were dead. All of them. All of Xandar had been slaughtered. Mass genocide. Everyone he knew. Everyone he fought aside. Everyone he loved. Wiped out. At the end of space, so far from home, Richard had found a new life apart from Earth. But now, the invaders had destroyed all of that. From the smallest child to the oldest citizen. None were spared. The entire Xandarian civilization had been erased from the galaxy, and were no more.
“Anybody? Hello?” He shouted out into the open space before him; receiving nothing but a stale and deathly silence in return. The cold chill of the artificial atmospheric processors rushed wind all around him. The silent scream of those that had died. The empty nothingness of a billion lost souls crying for their loss. “ANYBODY?!”
No one had survived. Not one, save for himself. The Corps. Xandar. All gone. For why? He didn’t know. Sitting down, Richard lowered his head down to his chest as he tucked his legs before him; sitting himself down as he took in the grim reality of it all. He had left his friends and family on Earth to protect the galaxy from threats such as he had witnessed that day. Sadly, he could only feel disheartened at how helpless he was to stop such an assault. And for his weakness, many had been sacrificed.
With the fragility of a wounded animal, Richard reached downward and removed the standard issue Nova corps communicator from his belt. It rested in the palm of his hand. Shattered. Broken. It was useless. Dead weight. Even if it had been unharmed, there was not one soul around that would receive his communication. And with a slight twist of his wrist, he let the device slip from his palm and drop down over the tower’s edge and through the air, spiraling into nothingness as it disappeared into a small speck. From his height, he couldn’t even hear it hit the ground so far beneath him. It was over. All over.
Placing his head between his hands, he ran his fingers through his matted and dirty hair. He felt his sweaty palms grease though his gloves as he applied them to his forehead. The pain from all the sores and cuts on his scalp that stung upon contact didn’t matter anymore in the grand scope of it all. He was done. Chances of rescue now were slim to none. If the invaders kept on path, with as strong as they were, there wouldn’t be anyone brave or strong enough to reach him in time. So with that thought in mind, Richard Rider logged in his last entry.
“Verbal Log. Nova Corps Operative: 11249-44396 / Richard Rider… I… I was there… The last day of Nova Corps… I was there… I’m still here… God help me. I’m still here…”
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4vA]^#PG#IN-7#ST-7#SP-7#DR-7#EP-7#FS-1