The Marvel characters featured (X-Men, Fantastic Four, Avengers, et al) are all owned by Marvel Comics. Hellstar, Thermoblast, Hotshock, Chillstar, Fluxwave and Meanstreak are owned by myself. This is my first posting, so please be kind.
Chapter Two
"Ok, so what have we got?" Cyclops asked as he strode into the darkened War-Room in the Mansion's Sub-Basement.
"Shield Hellicarrier took a bit of a tumble. Almost crashed in the centre of New York." Logan answered from behind a large control panel by the main table.
A holographic map of New York hovered over the large table in the centre of the room. Several of the team had already made it down and were assembled in their uniforms surveying the displays. The room held an eerie silence as the others waited for their orders.
"Ok, so really. What's going on. Really." Cyclops clearly did not believe what he had been told. He strode to the table to take a look at the display. Many glowing red dots adorned the mostly blue, translucent image.
"I wish I was Kiddin, Cyke." Logan began. "Truth is, Sheild don't know what's goin' on, except now the government's got a whole lot of explainin to do to the public. The whole of New York saw it fall out through the clouds before the Fantastic Four stopped it."
Cyclops sighed . "So, if the crisis has been stopped, why are we needed?" He looked around the room at the team. Wolverine sighed in reply. Colossus took a step forward and motioned at the red dots in the three dimensional image.
"Debris." He stated in his deep, baritone, Russian accent. "These red dots show where some of the Hellicarrier's fragments hit the ground."
Beast stood up from a chair by one of the many sensor consoles in the room. His blue, furry body partly hidden by a long, white lab coat. He removed his spectacles and placed them in the breast pocket. "Some of the Hellicarrier's equipment has been reported missing. Part of it's cloaking device, for instance. Also, several crates fell from the open cargo bay during the fiasco. They've been evasive with our questions about what we should be looking for, but we do know they were attacked by unknown fighter craft."
"So?" Cyclops asked, remaining where he stood, separate from the group, most of whom acting as if they weren't even there. Suddenly it dawned on Cyclops what this meant. There was something he didn't know. Something serious.
He looked around the large, imposing room. He never understood why the room was always so dark. Most of the light came from the dozen display panels mounted throughout the room. The room was mostly round, with glossy metallic floors and walls. The large display table in the centre of the room was used to show three-dimensional holographic models of objects, maps or simulations of events and such. Why, for the sake of twelve red dots on a map of New York, the team had been called to an emergency briefing, he wasn't sure. That was, until Beast stood, still looking at Cyclops and turned the display panel around on its stand.
"This, Scott, is of particular interest." The screen showed what looked like a small crash site, with a small, red dart shaped vessel lodged in the ground. There was a little smoke coming from small areas around the hull.
"One of the fighters?"
Beast nodded. "Nobody seems to recognise it. Government agents are keeping the public away from it. They're not letting the Emergency services near it either, at least until its origin can be ascertained."
"Alright. Something's amiss here." Cyclops stated. He observed some shuffling from his team mates around the table. Most of the team were still in their civilian clothing., he noticed. All except himself, Beast and Wolverine. "Alright. Suit up, team. Hank, Logan and I will try and come up with a plan."
The team all made for the side doors off the room leading to the men's and women's locker rooms. As they exited, Emma entered from the corridor, having spent the duration of the meeting using Cerebro.
"Any ideas, Em?" Logan asked., pulling up his the hood on his yellow leather uniform, signifying his mission ready status and that he should now be referred to as Wolverine. Scott already had his hood and visor in place, Cyclops was his codename.
"I've used Cerebro to implant a false memory into some of the eyewitnesses."
Emma told them, her classy, soft tones making her words sound like seductive poetry, as always. "Unfortunately, I've only been able to convince a few, weaker willed people."
"Convince them of what?" Cyclops asked.
"That what they saw was a meteorite. It was the best I could do."
"Great." Cyclops was now busying himself with the sensor readouts.
"The red dots on the map are the objects we've been assigned to recover." Beast told them. "The Hellicarrier is cripled and is currently being held up by emergency generators installed temporarily by Reed Richards."
"So, do we know what any of the objects are?" Wolverine inquired, pulling a cigar from his pocket. He noticed the frown Emma was directing at him, no doubt reiterating the Mansion's smoking policy to him. It worked, he twiddled it between his fingers for a few seconds before placing it back in his pocket.
"Their inventory lists several crates shipped in from Latveria. They dropped out of the open cargo bay during the attack." Beast told them. Cyclops' brow furrowed under the hood of his uniform and he stroked his chin, wondering why a delivery of crated from Latveria were being shipped to the Hellicarrier. "Next on the list," Beast continued, "a crate marked `biohazard level 3'. They neglected to mention the contents. That's the one that fell into Central Park. It's not too far from the crashed fighter, so if we send a team to the fighter, they could pick that up while there."
"Good plan." Cyclops commented. "Next?"
Beast's hands glided over the flat, polished control panel, as another page of objectives appeared on the screen they had gathered around. "Several fragments of hull plating and some damaged technology parts."
"Ok, the technology and hull plating aren't as important as the shipment and biohazard box, I'm guessing." Emma stated.
"You guess right." Wolverine confirmed. "Do we know the state of the Biohazard container, Hank?"
"No. Sensors can't read much in the few metres around it. I can't work out if there's a leak that's affecting the sensors, or..."
"Somethin' those Shield boys put in there to block sensors, right?" Rogue finished his sentence as she entered the room. She stopped and posed, showing off her new uniform. Black leather, with a teal sheen in the light.
Tight, and figure hugging, the one-piece suit was unzipped quite low, exposing her ample cleavage. The suit had been finished with some thin yellow piping, accentuating the lines of her figure and tight, yellow, thigh high wedge-heeled boots and short, yellow gloves. A yellow and silver X-belt hung loosely over her hips and her hair, cut in a sleek bob, its white streak in the front ever present, looked immaculate. She was nothing short of statuesque. "Well? What Y'all Think, huh?"
"Oh, my dear, you look lovely." Emma told her with a smile. "Come, have a seat."
The noise was deafening. Iron Man made his way through the darkened corridor towards the Hellicarrier's detention facility. During the attack, the power had been knocked out on several decks, allowing prisoners to escape from their cells. The deck had been sealed off, but several dangerous inmates had been causing damage and trying to claim the space as their own, eager to grasp control of the powerful vessel.
He opened an access panel on the metallic-looking wall. Small tools came forth from the fingertip of his suit. He soldered some broken wires, adjusted connection pathways and soon the lighting in the section flickered back to life. Static fizzed from his communicator, before Fury's voice came through.
"We're reading power in your section, Iron Man. Is that you?"
"Affirmative, Colonel. I've managed to restore power to at least this section, I'll do what I can."
He took a look around. The passage was littered with loose wires, sections of bulkhead and several dead or dying crew members. He counted three under the fallen metal beams and a fourth with severe burns to his face, hands and uniform. The black and blue fabric of his uniform was burnt out on the chest. Iron Man knew he must have been right next to the nearby power conduit when it exploded.
He made his way past the bodies and turned the corner into another section. The power was off here, so he reactivated the beacon on his wrist. He could see something in a few metres ahead of him on the floor. As he neared it, he realised it was a body. He looked at the young soldier's injuries, no burns, but a large gash in his stomach. The poor boy was pouring with blood from his midsection, making a large, red puddle on the floor. Iron Man looked at his face, a moment of pity and compassion tugging at his insides. He saw how young the bleeding man was. He couldn't have been more than twenty. Suddenly, the boy's eyes flew open and stared Iron Man in the face.
Through his helmet, Iron Man looked into the boy's eyes and saw a whirlpool of emotions. Fear, despair, confusion...
Looking at his injuries, they both knew there was only seconds left with no chance of saving him. Iron Man couldn't beak eye contact and felt a tear slipping down his face. He put his cold, metal covered hand on the boy's shoulder and did the best to reassure him as the life slipped from him and his final breath escaped. The armoured hero sighed before composing himself and resuming his mission. The cause of the boy's injuries was a mystery, until he saw something long, thin and metallic snaking around the corner ahead. It sparkled in the field of light from his beacon, before completely disappearing around the corner.
Iron Man snuck towards the corner, as silently as metal boots on a metal floor would allow. As he stood close to the wall, preparing to pounce, he felt a tightness around his ankle before being pulled off his feet and into the air. Suddenly he was stopped, upside down, dangling in the air. He rose his hand with the beacon.
"Greetings, Iron Man..." A sinister, yet familiar European accent penetrated the darkness, before the light shone on the bespectacled face.
"Octavius!" Iron Man muttered through gritted teeth as he began to struggle, feeling more of the metallic tentacles attacking him. The claws at the end of one was attempting to crack through his armour, somewhere around his heart. He was wrestling his arm free, trying to raise a hand to blast a pulsar beam at his attacker, but his arms were restrained. He struggled, unable to break free, but had some tricks left up his sleeve. First was an electric discharge from his suit, the shock travelled through the tentacles into Doctor Octopus' body and the tentacles loosened, but only for a second. That was all he needed to release one of his hands and fire a pulsar beam right in Ock's face. The portly, yet muscled man in green began to fall backwards, using a tentacle behind him to steady himself, he threw Iron Man down the corridor, making a humanoid-shaped dent in the bulkhead. His torch had been broken, plunging the adversaries into darkness. Iron Man
could see nothing, save for a couple of sparks from broken screens and conduits. He could hearthe clanking of metal on metal as Ock stumbled clumsily in the dark. Suddenly, a beam of yellow energy illuminated the passageway. Ock flew backwards, rendered unconscious by the blast. Iron Man knew the blast hadn't come from him. But who?
"Clear!" A strong, feminine voice cut through the darkness before light flooded in through the doors down the corridor. Torches mounted on rifles carried by maybe fifteen soldiers. Then, the figure beween them...
"Carol..." Iron Man muttered, as she pulled him to his feet. The majestic Ms Marvel standing in front of him. Better still, she'd brought back up.
"Thought you could use a hand." She stood, smiling her masterful smile, wearing her trademark navy, swimsuit-styled uniform, with the thigh high matching boots. A yellow lightning motif across the chest. Her long, honey and platinum hair blowing in the light breeze caused by a distant hull breach.
Now that backup was here, they could proceed. They gathered themselves, formulated tactics and prepared to enter the large room ahead where the cells were located.
In the Avengers' Tower, Spiderman was heading for a break at the end of his shift. Jessica had volunteered to take part of the next shift until someone got back to take over. He had been stuck in his sweaty spandex suit for nineteen hours now. He had been frustrated at being stuck in their headquarters behind a console when he should have been out in the thick of the action. He needed something to blow off steam for a while. Despite his tiredness, he had a little energy to expend and since Mary Jane had left him, he couldn't go and sleep with her to use it up. He headed down the elevator to the gym. Out of the window, he saw the Fantasti-car circle the Tower before docking on the roof. The Fantastic Four had come over for repairs as a piece of debris had damaged the Baxter Building's hanger bay doors. They had been given clearance to take some rest at the Avengers' place while theirs was repaired. They had all been on/off members of the team for years anyway and remained close friends with most of the team. They had always been told they were welcome there and were always made to feel that way too. As was the case with many of the Super Hero community. Certain members of the X-men, for example, had been members of the Avengers, Doctor Strange, also. Some of whom were also in or around the building while they collected the debris that Sheild had lost in the battle above the city.
The storage bays were being used to keep the debris in isolation until Sheild could collect it. There were small teams of X-Men, Avengers and a couple of solo heroes in and out of the building helping with the cleanup. It was a welcome bit of excitement during an unusually quiet Summer. And it was nice to have fresh meat to look at rather than the friends he saw all the time. Not that he resented or disliked them in any way, he just liked the change. Since MJ had left, he hadn't had sex with anyone, not even himself. His frustration and spike of energy had left him feeling rather desperate. He suspected if anyone, even a willing letterbox, looked at him in the right way, it may end up with a broken pelvis. He was hot.
Spiderman entered the gym and pulled his mask up over his mouth and nose, letting him breathe just a little easier. He then pulled the top section down and rolled it around his hips. His uniform hung off him in such a way that the only way to keep it from coming completely off was if it was tied where the hips are widest, Spidey's weren't particularly wide, so it hung low on his slender, toned hips, giving the teasing hint of the top of his light brown pubic hair. He rubbed is abs softly as he walked towards the treadmill, stopping and catching a breath as his thumb caught his left nipple, which suddenly became erect. A light breeze from the air conditioning tickled his smooth skin, mixing cool air with the heat of the room and his warm, sweat moistened body. Just the right amount of sweat to look and smell deliriously sexy, even to himself. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrored wall, watching his hand slowly move a little lower. He didn't care, he was alone. Until HE walked in...
TO BE CONTINUED...
*********************************** ******************************** ***************************** Well, that's Chapter 2, I've started building the storyline and chapter 3 is gonna be much longer as the action and mystery begins. I'm trying to get as many Marvel characters in as possible, so if there's someone you'd like to see, let me know. Any ideas appreciated, i'll see if i can weave them in.
I've set this in my own continuity, which I'm keeping as close to the Main Marvel universe (616) as I possibly can.
Feedback is always welcome
Contact me at explosiveicon@hotmail.com or via my website www.toxicchain.com
Hugz, GJ