The Otherworld War
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What's Been Happening: The current Captain Britain -- Betsy Braddock -- has put her ghosts to rest and adopted a new uniform that better symbolizes the confidence she now feels. Her brother, King Brian of Otherworld, does not share her optimism, however. His is a kingdom besieged on many fronts: the evil Mandragon, united with Slaymaster and a time-displaced version of Brian himself, have built a mighty army that eats away at the edges of the realm; and Brian's wife Meggan, badly injured in a recent battle, has had trouble coming to terms with damage to her unborn child....
The Township of Loamhedge, Otherworld
The snow fell thick and white, blanketing the countryside and limiting visibility to only a few feet. It was the third day in a row that the snow had fallen like this and Captain Assyria hated it. He was used to the dry heat of his homeland... until he'd come into the service of King Brian, he'd never even seen snow outside of a television report. Now he felt like he was drowning in it.
"I do not like this," Horus said, coming to stand next to him. The god's breath came forth in clouds of smoke, issuing forth with every word. "Our men grow tired of waiting -- Why do we not strike first?"
Assyria stared off into the field of white. "We have our orders. Dark Guard is to provide support to the Fifth Infantry when Mandragon's forces make their move. Under no circumstances are we to engage the enemy before they come to us."
"Hmph. The King is weak. We should--"
"Watch your tongue, if you know what's best for you."
Both men jumped at the unexpected voice. They turned to look back at the campsite, but saw nothing but the magical torches that gave the men warmth for the evening. Captain Assyria checked to make sure his shield was tightly secured to his arm. "Who said that?"
A figure emerged from the snow, clad mostly in red. The man's blond hair was whitened by the snow and was blowing about madly atop his head. In his right hand he held a scepter of some kind. "That would be me... Brian Braddock."
Horus frowned and brought his weapon up high. "Lies! You are far too slight to be the King!"
The lithe figure crouched low suddenly, swinging out with the scepter. It hit Horus square in the vital area, a knot of tissue and nerves that sent pain rocketing throughout the bigger man's body. "I never said I was the King. I said I was Brian Braddock -- and that's true enough!"
Captain Assyria moved forward, reacting to this sudden attack. He thought of calling for help, summoning the rest of the Dark Guard to his side. But he felt confident that it was not going to be necessary. This youth before him was talented, but could not hope to oppose a Super-Soldier.
Brian ducked a swipe of Assyria's shield and struck upwards with a fist. The blow shattered two of the Guardsman's ribs and caused him to vomit up a wave of blood. The blond youth followed this attack with two more punches to the man's kidneys before finishing him off with a powerful swing of his scepter. Blood sprayed upwards, staining Brian's face and mask. Once upon a time -- not so very long ago, in fact -- the young man would have been disgusted by this.
Now, he regarded it as a badge of honor.
Turning back to Horus, the young man who called himself Captain Britain knelt down beside the fallen god. "You did not fight well. That's a disappointment," he whispered, his voice almost lost in the howling wind. He didn't seem to take notice of how much he sounded like his mentor, Slaymaster, now. The words, the timbre of the voice... He was almost Slaymaster reborn. "I will end your life quickly, though you do not deserve it. May Allah welcome you into his embrace."
Horus stared at him through blood-rimmed eyes." Your god is a false one."
Brian did not answer -- not with words. Instead, he held out his scepter and depressed a button on its side. A gleaming blade protruded from the weapon's end. It was stabbed deeply into his enemy's eye, shoved forward until it lodged inside the brain.
"You have done well."
Brian looked up to see Slaymaster smiling down upon him. A group of twelve assault troopers, all personally trained by the master assassin, stood at attention behind him. "They won't have any warning now."
Slaymaster nodded. "Yes. Be wary of the other members of the Guard. They may be more dangerous than these two."
"You're not going to be with me?"
Slaymaster smiled sadly, his moustache arching up in response. He was a roguishly handsome man, with an air of both sexual and predatory power about him. Despite the conditions, he wore only a yellow and orange jumpsuit -- pain of any kind was seen only as an annoyance to him, nothing more. "I have other plans, my apprentice. It will be you who leads this final charge, not I. Once you break through Loamhedge, lead the forces straight through the forests to the palace. I will meet you there."
Brian nodded, realizing his master's plan. He would go ahead of the main forces... and test the enemy's defenses. The evil King Brian, who embodied all that young Brian feared he would become: tyrannical, obsessed, power-hungry. "Leave my opposite for me," he begged. "You promised."
Slaymaster patted the young man on the shoulder. "The prophet gives us what we deserve, my friend. Trust in him."
Brian Braddock flew down the halls of the castle, ignoring those who threw themselves out his way. His face bore the look of a man enraged, one whose very life and sanity hung in a tenuous balance. He shattered the doors of the Palace Healer, splinters of wood raining down around him. The men and women in the room backed away in horror, but it was the smallest of them -- the keeper of secrets named Sammael -- who refused to hide themselves away. He strode forward, leaning heavily on a walking stick, his deep-set eyes regarding the King with bland disregard. "Is this how your father taught you? To go busting about, tearing up furniture and doors?"
Brian, dressed in the blue and white that he now favored, ignored the jibe. "My wife. Where is she?"
"Calm yourself."
Brian's roar of anger was terrifying to behold. He picked up the smaller man by the cusp of his collar. "Tell me where Meggan is before I--"
"Brian! Stop that!"
Brian dropped Sammael quickly, not noticing the look of consternation that flashed over the little man's aged features. He was too busy staring at his wife, who had stepped out from behind a changing screen. She wore the orange bodysuit that she'd worn during their early courtship... and it fit her well. Too well. Her belly, which had been swollen with child, was now flat and trim. "You did it," he whispered, and his voice was full of surprised pain.
Meggan stepped towards him and Brian was surprised to see how healthy she looked. Surely losing one's child would take a terrible toll on you... even if you could hide some of it with shapeshifting. "Yes, Brian. I was so upset when you tried to tell me about what had happened to our baby*.... I'm sorry for snapping at you." Meggan's hands went protectively over her stomach, though no child remained within.
(*See issue 7.)
Brian moved to embrace her, surprised to find that his eyes were wet with tears. "If you'd waited for me to heal from my own injuries... I was going to try and help--"
"Hush," she whispered, kissing away the moistness on his cheeks. "I did this, Brian, because I felt I should. I'm not like normal women... Birth defects for a child of mine could be disastrous. What if it couldn't control its shapeshifting? What if it was like your brother Jamie....?"
"I would have risked it," he replied, firmly. He was trying to keep his anger in check but it was so hard... it had been his child just as much as hers... "I feel betrayed by you, Meggan. You let them kill our baby."
Meggan pulled away and Brian saw flames dance in her eyes. Her appearance became more feral and dangerous and her voice deepened as she said "Never say that to me. Never! It was that Dane Whitman and Roma who killed our baby. All I did was put it to bed."
Brian watched in mute surprise as she moved away from him. There was a sense of defiance in her that he was unfamiliar with... and it scared him. He made no move to follow as she exited the room, her ladies-in-waiting trailing along behind.
"She is coping in her own way," Sammael murmured.
Brian whirled on him with fury etched on his features. "You knew she was planning this. You knew."
"I am the Keeper of Secrets, my lord... But I did more than aid her in this. I suggested it."
Brian's eyes widened. "I should have you banished."
"You should thank me!" Sammael whispered harshly. "Madness runs in your family, as you well know. And this child would not be healthy. It would be foul of spirit and form. It would be--"
"Shut up." Brian pointed a finger, his entire body shaking. "Stay out of my sight, little man... Or I make no promises about what will happen to you."
Sammael held his ground as Brian stared at him... and it was the King who turned away first.
Loamhedge
Betsy Braddock woke to the sounds of men screaming. She bolted from beneath the fur blankets under which she lay, using her powers to activate her costume around her. It had only been days since she'd put Lady Mandarin to rest, but she'd scarcely had time to celebrate her victory. While Brian marshaled his forces back at the palace -- and consoled his distraught wife -- Betsy had been left with the Dark Guard to defend this small, but strategically important, part of the realm. From Loamhedge the invaders would have a direct shot to the royal palace -- and that could not be allowed.
Captain Britain burst forth into the chilly air, her lips drawn into a thin line. Mandragon's forces were everywhere, bolstered by equipment provided by the Reaver and Sat-Yr-9's forces. Energy blasters were being used alongside the more traditional knife and sword -- and Betsy saw that even the heroic Dark Guard was finding themselves hard-pressed by the sheer size of the army.
And that troubled her more than anything. Mandragon had played on people's fears that the Braddocks were insane tyrants... he had offered them power and land... he had lied and distorted Brian and Betsy's actions to turn them against them. And it had worked. She scoured the minds of those before her and found that none of these rebels were being mind controlled. They were here because they wanted to be.
Activating her psi-blade, Captain Britain dropped in amongst a large group of rebels. She stabbed and kicked, driving back her enemies. She was a wonder to behold, combining her own natural instincts as a fighter with the training she'd received from the Hand, Wolverine and S.T.R.I.K.E.
"Captain! There are too many of them! We must fall back and defend the palace!"
Betsy looked over to see General Harriman -- a stout fellow with a handle-bar moustache and a powerful sword arm -- hacking his way towards her. He was bleeeding profusely but still standing, which amazed her. "Make it so, General! Have you sent runners back to warn my brother?"
"They were dispatched, m'lady! Lord willing, they'll arrive in plenty of time!"
Betsy nodded, swiping her blade through the neck of a tall, gray-skinned humanoid. It howled in pain as the psychic manifestation of a sword triggered all his synapses, frying them. She flew upwards then, eager to get a better view of the battlefield. She opened her mind to link the members of the Dark Guard together, but when she did, she felt something that unnerved greatly. It was something so familiar... and yet so foreign... "Brian?"
"Call me Captain Britain."
She whirled about to see a vision of the past hurtling towards her. It was almost as if all the ghosts she'd recently laid to rest had been revived in the form of her brother... who now looked as he did years ago. He was still skinny and somewhat gangly, having not yet been altered by Merlyn and Roma to better serve them... and his costume was positively quaint now, with the rampart lion emblazoned on his chest. "You! I saw you in Dr. Synne's mind*! They're lying to you, Brian! They're--" Captain Britain's words were lost in a groan of pain as the star scepter raked across her face, drawing first blood.
(*In our third issue.)
"Stay out of my head, Betsy! You're not welcome there -- Because you and that fake Brian of yours are nothing more than nasty little buggers!"
Dodging another swing of the scepter, Betsy tried to feel out with her mind but found that it was definitely closed to her. She recognized the mental disciplines this Brian was using and it chilled her. "Slaymaster... He's been filling your up with lies, Brian! Think! Would I ever go along with something that wasn't right?"
"My Betsy wouldn't... But you're a different story. Look at you -- purple hair! And you've certainly tarted yourself up!"
Betsy caught Brian's arm and stabbed it through with her psi-blade. The shock made him drop the scepter... and without it, he could not fly. Thank heavens he's not as powerful as my Brian is now, she mused.
Their fight had taken them just outside the main battlefield and Brian crashed into a large bank of snow, far from his troops. Betsy circled overhead but saw no movement from her ersatz brother. Landing near him, she probed with her mind, but found that his shields were still in place. "Brian...? Are you awake?"
The figure lay still and silent.
"I didn't want to do that, but you're being used as a pawn." She knelt beside him and rolled him onto his back. He was so slender and young... It made her heart ache to see him like this. He couldn't have been Captain Britain for very long when--
His hand shot out quickly, striking her with a hard chop to the throat. The blow was perfectly placed and Betsy gagged as her air was suddenly cut off. She flopped back like a fish.
Brian rose to his knees, staring at her as she clutched at her throat. "You shouldn't underestimate me. I'm not some helpless child... I've been touched by Allah."
Betsy, gagging, stared at the young man who was now approaching her. She saw pain and rage in his eyes and even without telepathy she knew that something horrible had twisted and destroyed this Brian Braddock. He was a victim... but a dangerous one.
Her psi-blade flared to life.
He retrieved his star scepter.
The battle began anew.
The Palace
"We should carry the fight directly to Mandragon!"
"We must defend the palace!"
"Why is the Dark Guard not here with the King?"
Brian Braddock sat in his throne, listening to the shouts and mutterings of his advisors... and he yearned for the days when he could slap on a costume and beat up the Crazy Gang. Though he did not know it, runners dispatched to warn him of coming ruin would never reach the palace. They had been struck down by a powerful enemy... and all the words of the advisors would come to nothing. "If all of you are going to continue arguing, then I'll dispense with the meeting and make up my own mind." His words, though spoken softly, cut through the room like a knife. Sensing he had their attention, he rose. He wore the red and blue uniform, with the white rampant lion, that his father had worn as a member of the Captain Britain Corps. It made him feel like he had a connection to the past and empowered him. "We cannot take the fight to Mandragon when we don't know where he is. We are planning to defend the palace. And the Dark Guard is aiding in the defense of Loamhedge. Any other questions?"
"I have one," someone said from the back.
Brian looked up and the other men turned as well, eager to see what unfamiliar person had interrupted their meeting. The figure that strode forward was draped in a brown cloak that hid almost all his features... though long hair fell beneath the hood. "Ask, then," Brian said.
"Who is more powerful? A man who wears a crown placed upon his head by another man... or one who has walked through the valley of the death and been reborn, through the grace of his God?"
Brian stood up quickly, waving a gloved hand through the air. "Go! All of you!"
His advisors gaped at him in surprise but it was too late. The robed figure had tossed back his hood and it was the leering face of Slaymaster who regarded them now. He struck quickly, slashing out with his Jazzler at the nearest man and then driving his razor sharp fingertips into the gut of another.
Brian howled in fury and jumped forward, but Slaymaster ducked under him and used the larger man's momentum against him. Brian tumbled to the floor, landing hard against the wall. He forced him back up quickly, just in time to see the last of his advisors fall to the ground in a spray of blood. "You vicious bastard...."
Slaymaster shrugged. "You do me a dishonor. My parentage is known to the both of us. I am hardly a bastard. But you... You are the one who has labored under many lies. I pity you that your father did not tell you the truth. That he led you to believe he was a simple scientist and you were nothing more than a disappointment."
Brian snarled and rushed forward. His blow caught Slaymaster hard on the side of the head and sent the assassin reeling. Brian snatched him up in his hands and tossed him bodily across the room. Slaymaster slammed against the great oak doors, splintering them. "When I'm done with you and Mandragon, no one will recognize you! I killed you once before and I swear before God and Heaven that I'll do it again if need be!"
"Such anger," Slaymaster whispered, his eyes glittering. "It hides a wealth of pain. I know. I know you very well, indeed. I have spent months with a teenaged version of you... and it has taught me that you can be saved. If you are willing to learn."
Brian flew forward but Slaymaster jumped over him. He landed behind the king and drove his nerve-destroying Jazzler into the man's back. Brian howled in pain and fell forward. Slaymaster pounced, grabbing the king by the hair and driving his face repeatedly into the floor. He held Brian's face up, dripping with blood. "Allah will forgive you. That's one of the reasons I returned. I've learned that through my dealings with young Brian. I am to forgive the man who killed me... and teach him of pain. And redemption."
Brian tried to speak, but he found that no words would come. He saw images of his unborn child, who would never see the sun nor feel the soft wetness of snow. I'm coming for you, he thought. I'm coming.
Slaymaster drove his head down once more.
TO BE CONTINUED
Next Issue: The Otherworld War concludes. King Brian vs. Slaymaster. Young Brian vs. Betsy. And the return of Roma!
Author's Notes
Expect big surprises next issue -- and an even bigger one in # 12. You've been warned....
Keep in touch,
Barry Reese
