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*****
The starship newly christened the El, carrying Clark (Maike) and his two companions, burst free of Earth and into space.
The instant they cleared the planet, Gwen—who had been so tense she scarcely dared breathe—actually leapt inside the ship.
"I'm out of Earth's atmosphere!"
She cheered with giddy delight, waving to Clark and Raven like an astronaut on TV.
"One small step for Gwen, one giant leap for the Kent family!"
"Pfft!"
Raven couldn't help laughing at Gwen's antics, yet when her eyes drifted to the blue world hanging not far away, a trace of enchantment flickered there as well.
The planet was beautiful—like a sapphire set into a curtain of black velvet.
"Clark, where are we going?" Raven asked softly.
"Morag first," Clark said after a brief pause.
Morag—he remembered clearly—was where the Orb, the Power Stone, had once been hidden.
He wondered if that "fool" had already gotten his hands on it.
Either way, they needed to check.
If no one had taken it, he would claim it himself; if it had already been taken, he'd simply have to visit more worlds.
No problem.
After all, this trip had begun as a vacation.
"Morag?" Raven's eyes gleamed with anticipation.
It would be the first alien planet she had ever visited.
The El spewed a plume of blue fire and threaded the void, soon arriving at a jump point near Earth.
"Gwen, buckle up. We're about to make a space jump," Clark called.
Gwen, who had been gaming in the lounge, hurriedly hit pause, dashed back to the cockpit, dropped into a seat, and fastened her harness.
Normally, a ship needed to reach a jump point before it could transition. The El, however, carried a Kryptonian Phantom Engine, which meant it could jump without the lanes—though the energy cost was tremendous, so Clark seldom did it.
Reaching the jump point, Clark drove the ship straight through.
Colors flared in a blinding cascade. Inside, Gwen and Raven felt a crushing pressure slam them into their seats.
Then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone.
When the kaleidoscopic glare faded from their vision, they had arrived in a strange starfield.
Pinprick suns glowed in the distance; asteroids drifted lazily; nebulae spilled like jeweled clouds across the dark.
The universe had suddenly become more colorful.
Gwen pressed to the window, marveling at the stellar scenery and snapping picture after picture with the camera that hung from her neck.
"Dad, are we near Morag yet?"
"No. A few more jumps," Clark answered, eyes on the star chart. Then he smiled. "We're not in a hurry. Take your time and enjoy the view."
The star charts had been supplied by Jor-El.
Clark switched to autopilot toward the next jump point and headed to the galley, while Gwen and Raven continued drinking in the gorgeous cosmic sights.
Everything had the flavor of an ordinary trip.
After lunch—and several more jumps—the El finally reached Morag.
It was a ruined world. Once, a brilliant civilization had flourished here; now the planet was scarred and desolate, shrouded in rolling black clouds.
"So that's Morag?" Gwen peered at the distant sphere, her little face alight with excitement.
It was, after all, the first alien world she had set foot on.
Raven studied the planet, then shot Clark a doubtful look. "Something about it feels wrong."
"It's a dead world," Clark said with an easy smile. "We're here to find something." He added, "Still… the scenery has a certain unique charm."
"Unique… scenery?"
At that, Raven and Gwen perked up again, intrigued.
Two minutes later, after they'd dipped into Morag's atmosphere and the ship descended rapidly, both women tilted their heads toward Clark, eyes full of deep suspicion.
This was the "unique scenery" he meant?
Gale-force winds howled across a darkened sky, as if a never-ending sandstorm raged overhead—and in the distance, heavy snow fell in sheets.
Below, the ground lay crisscrossed with vast chasms that periodically hurled geysers a hundred meters high.
Apocalypse writ large.
"Ahem. This is Morag's signature doomsday vista. You won't find this on Earth," Clark explained. With the two staring at him in speechless disbelief, he flickered to the hatchway. As the ship touched down, he flashed them a grin and, as the doors slid open, vaulted out into the storm.
Gwen and Raven eyed the desolation outside with zero desire to step foot beyond the ramp. For a moment, they even entertained the idea of lifting off and leaving Clark stranded.
Speaking of flying the ship… Gwen's eyes sparkled.
In her transformed state, with Penance Fire empowering her, she could pilot anything. A starship…?
No—she needed to find a chance to try!
She glanced at the pilot's chair, fingers itching.
At that moment, as Clark and company set down on Morag, a massive carrier slid into orbit. Its flight deck cracked open, and dozens of small craft spilled out, arrowing toward the planet.
Ravagers.
Time ticked by. Gwen and Raven played games and waited for Clark to return.
Then, a small craft appeared above the El.
The Ravager at the controls glanced down, greed flashing in his eyes.
What a gorgeous ship—and from what he could see, it didn't seem to have any weapon systems?
"Heh."
He smirked and spat several lances of energy at the vessel below.
The beams splashed harmlessly against a shimmering barrier—as insignificant as raindrops on an umbrella.
That shield strength…
The Ravager blinked in shock—and then poured on heavier fire.
At that instant, Gwen strode out of the El.
She glared at the craft overhead and tapped the band on her wrist.
At once, the Nighthawk stored aboard rocketed out and settled beside her.
With a cold snort, Gwen transformed into the Spirit of Vengeance, laid a hand on the Nighthawk, and—delighted—watched as blue flame raced across the machine's frame. The lifeless mount seemed to come alive beneath her palm.
She sprang up, landed astride the Nighthawk, gave Raven at the hatch a little wave, and shot toward the attacking ship.
"What is that thing?" the Ravager yelped, then retuned his weapons and fired rapidly at Gwen.
"Ha-ha!"
The flaming skull laughed wildly.
The Nighthawk danced between the beams like a swift in a storm, streaked straight up, and—while the Ravager gaped—landed atop his craft. Its burning talons raked through the hull, carving out several gaping holes, then seized the ship and shook it midair like a toy.
Cold sweat drenched the Ravager's brow.
What in the void is that?
Panic rising, he fought to keep the listing craft aloft and smashed a fist on the distress beacon.
Damn it!
He should never have poked that hornet's nest!
"Hee-hee."
A voice prickled the hairs on his neck. Then the canopy shattered under a blazing skull, and he found himself yanked bodily into the open air.
"!@#!#￥"
He swore in his native tongue.
The flames flickering over Gwen's bones seemed to pause. What language was that?
She cocked her head in puzzlement, then hauled him down.
Dangling her trembling captive, Gwen landed before Raven. "Look, my spoils—"
"Boom!"
The Ravager's craft plummeted from the sky and exploded, blooming into a gorgeous fireball on the ground.
Startled, Gwen hunched her shoulders.
Raven shot her a look. "Leave things like this for your dad to handle. It's too dangerous!"
"I'm more dangerous than they are," Gwen declared proudly.
"Who are you? Why did you attack us?" Raven asked the Ravager Gwen had dumped at her feet.
"I—I'm a Ravager!" he blurted, eyes flicking fearfully to Gwen.
Gwen coughed primly, eyes gleaming with mischief. Mimicking TV villains, she called to Raven, "Boss, want me to take him out?"
Raven: "…"
What exactly has your dad been teaching you?
Exasperated and amused, Raven regarded Gwen, then turned to find the Ravager leering at her. The smile faded from her face. Like a hunting cat, she exploded into motion; in a blink she stood before him, set two flawless hands on his skull, and gave a gentle twist—
Crack.
A crisp snap, and the Ravager became a corpse.
Raven nudged the body off the El with a disdainful kick.
She eyed the spot he'd stood, grimaced, dashed inside, and fetched a mop to scrub the deck hard.
Meanwhile, Gwen had already driven the Nighthawk up into the sky.
Energy fire fell like rain, but she wove through it like a swallow in a downpour, dodging beam after beam. Then she slid a hand across her ribs and drew forth a chain wreathed in blue flame. With a sweeping motion, it uncoiled like a growing fire-drake, roaring across the heavens toward the enemy ships and then—
Straight through them.
Boom. Boom. Boom!
A string of explosions split the gloom; the dark sky blazed bright in an instant.
A streak of blue fire tore the inferno open and, like a keen arrow, lunged toward the next target.
At that moment, a figure screamed in from the horizon trailing a sonic shock, slicing the battlefield alongside the blue blaze.
More explosions rang out in succession.
Half the incoming ships vanished in an instant.
The rest hesitated only a heartbeat—then turned tail and fled without a second thought.
"Fiend! Halt!" Gwen shouted, spurring the Nighthawk to give chase.
Clark, expression dark, snagged her by the collar and lifted her clean off the saddle.
Where is this kid picking up these lines?
"Back." His voice was low.
Gwen shrank her neck. "Okay!"
Obediently, she dipped toward the ground.
Clark paused for just a moment, then streaked after the fleeing ships.
He needed information.
Gwen touched down, sent the Nighthawk back into the ship, and glanced around curiously.
"Aunt Raven, where's my trophy?"
"I tossed it."
"Oh."
Gwen replied meekly, put on her best-behaved face, and waited at the hatch for Clark to return.
Moments later, Clark descended and stepped aboard.
Gwen studied him and, seeing he wasn't angry, quietly exhaled in relief.
"We need to leave immediately and head for the next world," he said.
"Where to?" Raven asked.
"Xandar."
"Xandar? Is it like this place?" Gwen blurted.
If it looked anything like this again, Gwen Kent was going to overthrow the heavens—namely, Clark!
"No. It's a highly advanced world," Clark said with a smile back at her. "And it's about to see a major battle."
A battle?
Gwen's eyes lit up. She thrust a fist in the air. "Charge!"
Laughing, Clark gunned the ship and they streaked away.
A battle.
Clark had pried a very useful nugget from the Ravagers' tongues.
Ronan the Accuser of the Kree Empire had appeared in Knowhere yesterday, fought a brutal engagement, and seized some kind of "Orb" discovered on Morag.
They'd learned—from a band of Ravagers led by someone named Yondu—that the Orb was worth a fortune, so they had rushed to Morag to see if they could find a second one.
In other words, Ronan had already obtained the Power Stone and might even be en route to Xandar now—or already in battle there.
However…
Remembering how Ronan died to a dance-off in the original story, Clark's mouth twitched.
One of the most humiliating boss deaths ever.
…
At the same time, a colossal warship shaped like a raptor with spread wings knifed through space toward Xandar.
Kree Empire. Ronan the Accuser.
This was his flagship.
His purpose this time was crystal clear: use the Power Stone to annihilate Xandar.
The Nova Empire's capital—historic nemesis of the Kree. Yet recently the two had signed a peace accord and ceased hostilities.
Ronan, born for war, could not accept it.
So he decided to destroy Xandar himself and began hunting for the Power Stone.
Yesterday, he finally pried his "own" gem from a pack of thieves.
Now, gazing at the violet glow set into his universal warhammer, he allowed himself a faint smile.
All he had to do was land. All he had to do was bring his hammer down on Xandar's surface.
Victory would be his.
Simple… wasn't it?
Ronan smiled coolly, eyes fixed on the swelling orb of Xandar, and anticipation kindled within him.
(End of Chapter)