The Pendragons Issue # 24	Brought together in defense of Avalon and the British Isles, the Pendragons are the officially-sanctioned heroes of Great Britain. Originally led by the Black Knight, the group is composed of the remnants of the old Knights of Pendragon group, as well as several other heroes. Willing to die for their beliefs, the Pendragons stand united as England's best defense against threats of a superhuman nature. Pendragons logo created by Des Davies!
Artwork by Roberto Fernandez! (click to enlarge!)
Written by Barry Reese

What's Been Happening: The Pendragon known as Archangel was revealed to be the time-displaced Mimic, a member of a dimension-hopping group called the Exiles. Mimic left for parts unknown with his fellow Exiles, leaving the Pendragons short one member. Elsewhere, Union Jack continues to explore the relationship he shares with the symbiotic costume acquired on Battleworld. Complicating matters is the unexpected arrival of Venom in London -- the arch-foe of Spider-Man wears this universe's version of the living costume and the two symbiotes seem to share some sort of mental bond with each other. Finally, the heroic Miracleman has begun having dreams... dreams of people and places that cannot exist....

Darkmoor, England

Shevaun Haldane rolled out of bed, her mind buzzing with sensation. She felt relaxed and free, moreso than she had in years. Ever since her father's death and the revelation that he had been part of the centuries old Mys-Tech organization, Shevaun's life had been one roller-coaster ride after another. The Mys-Tech Wars, her alliances with the X-Men and now her career with the Pendragons... they were all things that had brought her great happiness -- but tremendous sadness as well. And through it all, there had been a deep, abiding loneliness, a bitter acceptance that she would probably never find love -- and that it would be unfair to bring someone into this life fraught with danger.

But all that had changed when Micky had come into her life.

The forgotten idol of millions, Miracleman had protected England through the Fifties before disappearing in a blaze of glory in 1963. For nearly forty years, he'd existed as a reminder of simpler times, his legend growing fainter and fainter with each passing year. But Shevaun -- along with all the other hungry schoolchildren who had snapped up his posters and buttons -- never stopped believing him. He was a hero, who never lied and never betrayed the public trust. He was a modern-day Olympic god, aryan and beautiful.

And I just had a blistering hot shag with him.

Shevaun stifled a laugh at the thought, but it was exceedingly difficult. She glanced over to see Micky's back facing her. He was naked and he looked very, very good. It almost made her want to wake him again... but she decided not to. She was tired and, despite his protestations to the contrary, she knew that Micky hadn't been sleeping well. 

Concern blossomed in her heart and she hoped desperately that she hadn't pushed him too far, too fast. Despite his adult facade, he was no more than a teenager inside that body -- Micky Moran, innocent and pure. But as Miracleman, he was so wise, so worldly... The dichotomy was sexy somehow, Shevaun realized. It appealed to both her womanly side and her maternal instincts. 

Micky stirred in his sleep, growling in the back of his throat. His eyelids were flickering and Shevaun knew that he was once more locked in that recurring dream of his... but what was it? And why hadn't he shared it with her, as he had when he'd been seeking out his former partner, Young Miracleman? She'd helped him then and now Rick was just a phone call away....

Perhaps the dear doesn't want to burden me... Or maybe the dreams are embarrassing somehow. Feeling guilty, like she was opening up someone's private diary, she reached out with her hand and let it rest against Micky's shoulder. The touch was electric -- it always was with Micky -- and she felt his mind brush against her own. Reaching out with her telepathy, she tried to peek inside. It was, she told herself, only the concerned gesture of a lover.

Shevaun gasped as she felt her mind yanked into Micky's dream-world. Her astral form shimmered into existence inside the dreamscape, orienting itself as quickly as possible. She'd rarely been pulled like this in the past and she couldn't help but wonder what was causing it -- was Micky's mind really that unusual? It wouldn't be hard to accept that it was, given how far above the norm he was in every other way.

"...Warpsmith? Where are you?"

At the sound of Micky's voice, Dark Angel took flight. She flew through the corridors of a gleaming complex, one composed of alien metals. It was some sort of scientific facility and she could see labs and work rooms branching off from the corridor that she followed. 

Around the corner, she saw Miracleman. He stood before a glass case in which a suit of armor rested, gleaming in the bright lights of the lab. It was of a bizarre design, one that tugged at the edges of Shevaun's memory -- where had she seen that before? The memory escaped her.

"Micky....?"

Miracleman turned to stare at Dark Angel, his mouth falling open. "Shevaun... What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same. Is this the dream you've been having over and over?"

"No... Not quite." His beautiful blue eyes reflected only confusion and pain, breaking Shevaun's heart. "They're all different... But they all feature people that I know. Or should know. But I don't. They're not real."

Dark Angel stared into the glass case, her memories falling locking into place. "Warpsmith. The name... I remember it, somehow.... but it's so hazy."

Miracleman moved towards her, holding her shoulders. "They're like me. All of them. Comic book characters."

"But you're real, Micky! Jamie Braddock made you real when he was Infinitus*."

(*A fact revealed in "A Secret War" which ran in Pendragons # 15-18.)

"And maybe I'm not the only one," he whispered, looking back towards the armor. "Maybe I'm not the only one."

Highgate Cemetery, London

Even before the Black Mass Barrier fell over Europe, Highgate Cemetery had acquired the reputation for the stranger, for the mystical. It was said that a Spirit of Vengeance haunted its historic passageways, riding a motorcycle that spewed flame and wielding a chain that could cut through reinforced steel. It was said that the Ghost Rider called Highgate home.

Those stories, and more, were all true. But as of late, Highgate has returned to being a quiet place, though with the Barrier in place, it still holds more than its fair share of weirdness -- for the dead sometimes walk in Highgate... and stranger beings than even that sometimes find shelter amidst the graves.

Eddie Brock huddled beside a large tomb, letting the warm rain fall down upon him. He was soaked almost to the bone, but he did not shiver for his clothing kept him warm and free from all colds or disease. The alien costume that had once sought to bond with the amazing Spider-Man had found a much more open host when it had met Eddie, who was down on his luck, thanks to the very same wall-crawler who had rejected the alien symbiote. Together, the two beings became something greater than the sum of their parts -- they became Venom, scourge of all who would persecute the innocent.

"He's coming for us, isn't he?" Eddie asked. The voice that answered him was heard only in his head, but it was real, nonetheless. "Good... We should meet him. Find out how he has a symbiote that's so much like you. That is you." Images of Eddie's past flooded through his mind, of being ruined by Spider-Man, of finding new strength with the symbiote. Some people called him a villain, but Venom had done a lot of good, too -- Eddie always tried to focus on that, but the desire for vengeance was so strong. Was that what had led him here? The lingering sense that Highgate was home to those who sought to punish the guilty?

The sound of footsteps crunching through the rain-soaked leaves brought Eddie back to the here and now. A black film rose up over his flesh, hiding his features and his close-cropped hair. Within seconds, the well-built reporter was gone... and the horrifying Venom was in his place. 

Standing tall, with an impossible number of teeth showing in a leer, Venom stared out into shadows. "Come out, Come out, wherever you are! My other can sense you, so there's no sense skulking about....."

Union Jack stepped into view, his own alien costume draped across his skin. It mimicked his traditional look, the one that had become famous throughout Great Britain since the first World War, but it was also subtly different, with a wet, skin-like sheen that caused the drops of rain to bead on its surface. "Venom. Why are you here, mate?"

Venom moved forward quickly, bridging the gap between them in less than a second. His tongue flicked out like a snake's, moving to and fro as if tasting the very air. "I was in Paris when the Barrier went up... dealing with a few old friends from the Jury. Ever hear of them?"

"No," Union Jack replied. He was lying, but he had no interest in engaging this creature in small talk. Joey Chapman had grown up the son of a dockworker, a simple lad with a flair for drawing. But various events in his life had conspired to bring him here, in the guise of a superhero, facing down a madman famous for spouting out about wanting to eat the brains of criminals. Don't want this to become some sort of wankfest, though, Joey mused. Keep Venom to the topic at hand and be ready to take him down if he makes a move towards me... "How long have you had your symbiote, Eddie?"

"Don't call me that!" the villain hissed. "Eddie Brock isn't here -- I'm Venom now!"

Union Jack waved the man's tongue away from him, warning "Touch me with that thing and I'll be keeping it as a souvenir."

"Feisty! We like that!" Venom moved back a step, watching Joey with curiosity. "We've been together for a few years now... and we're stronger because of it! But where does yours come from? Is it another piece of this one, separated  at some point -- like Carnage's?"

"You know that's not true. These symbiotes -- they're the same creature. The exact same! I picked mine up while visiting an alternate timeline. I got the alien costume instead of Spider-Man."

The mention of his old nemesis made Venom recoil in disgust. "Spider-Man," he whined, his voice deepening, "We hate him! Better to know that in one timeline at least, he won't be able to betray the symbiote!" Venom's eyes narrowed slightly. "But what do you intend to do with your other?"

"If you're talking about this damned costume, I mean to be rid of it eventually! I've only kept it this long because I needed its strength to deal with... a few recent threats. But they're in the past now and I'm getting real sick of being led about by this bloody suit! It's used me like a rag doll -- and led to the death of a good man."

Venom laughed at Union Jack's words. It was a sound without any trace of mirth and it fairly chilled the blood in Joey's veins. "If you're so eager to be free of it, then give it up. Isn't that why you're really here? To let the alien costume go... to let it join and merge with my own costume?"

Joey hesitated. A part of him had wanted to do exactly that: give up the suit and let it become someone else's problem. But that wasn't truly an option, for the last thing he wanted to do was unleash an even more powerful Venom on the world. 

Keeping his hand mostly hidden from sight, Joey ordered the suit to create the battle staff that he'd been wielding with great skill as of late. The inky substance that comprised the suit responded to its urgings, relishing what was about to come. "Not quite. You see, my suit was more than a bit curious about your own. But it doesn't really want to become some subservient being. It wants to be the only symbiote in town, if you get my meaning... and once I've taken you down and destroyed your suit, I'll work out my own problems with it. Think of this as me and him joining together for one last great cause!"

Venom threw up a hand just in time to catch Union Jack's blow. The quarterstaff hit the villain's hand with a hard thump, having been delivered with enough force to have broken a normal man's bones.

Venom's tongue about obscenely, reflecting his rising humor. "So. It's as we suspected. You want to destroy us... Poor little fool! We've been bonded for a long time -- and you have no hope of stopping us. I'm going to crack open your skull and feast on your brains!"

Union Jack kicked out with a knee, driving it hard into Venom's midsection. The blow drove the two men apart, giving Joey room to perform an acrobatic jump backwards. He landed in a crouch, holding the staff with both hands. "Give it your best shot, you sick bastard."

With a roar, Venom leapt for him.

Kate McClellan's Flat - London

"Mum, please. Can't you try and understand?" The exasperation in Cam McClellan's voice betrayed how close to the breaking point he was. He sat across from his mother, their bowls of pasta virtually untouched. All around them, candles flickered dramatically, casting the room in shadow. The effects of the Barrier on technology was always fluctuating, but tonight none of the flat's electricity was working -- which was somewhat fitting, for this conflict that now raged was not a modern one... its kind had been seen for far longer than man had owned the power of electric light. "Albion himself came to me and gave me this power -- I have to use it! I'm a Pendragon!"

Kate sighed. She wanted a fag so badly that her lips were trembling -- but she'd given up smoking ages ago. Leaning forward, she studied the face of the young man before her. He'd been a child, it seemed, only yesterday. "I can't force you to give it up, Cam. Believe me, I know what it means to be chosen as a protector of Avalon. It can seemingly give definition to your life, make you feel like you have something important to fight for... But it can also cause great harm! Remember Peter... and Gawain? They're dead. Dead and gone, forever. And I can't stand the thought of losing you."

Cam rose from his seat, moving over to stare out the window. The rain was splattering hard against its surface, making everything look fractured and distorted to him. "Adam says there are people out there worshipping Albion. They see me as proof that he's come back from the grave. I've given them something to look up to -- I've given them hope! Albion and Union Jack are both legacies... ones that date back almost a century now! That's something I share with Joey... and it's something I take very seriously."

Kate moved up behind him, putting her arms about his shoulders. He was taller than she'd remembered and she put her head between his shoulder blades. "Wynter says that he's seen great things ahead for you."

"He has?"

"Yes. He says it's all unclear but he thinks that you're going to be key to something... a great step that the English people are going to take."

Cam turned to face her, staring into her eyes and seeing the pain that was reflected there. He knew that part of her fear for him had nothing to do with losing her only son -- though that was, of course, a large part of it. She'd lost so much in her life... and she'd been forced to put her career on hold while fighting to save her son's soul, to lead the Pendragons through a period of great change and to find and win the love of an immortal sorcerer. It had wearied her beyond her years. "Then you know how important being Albion is. Even Wynter thinks so."

Kate nodded slowly. "Sometimes you remind me so much of your father... and of Ben... and of Peter. And now, even Wynter. I used to think it was terrible that you didn't have one great male figure in your life -- but maybe you were luckier than most. You've had so many to watch and learn from."

Cam embraced her, holding her tight. "And don't forget the greatest teacher of all -- my mum."

Kate laughed gently, enjoying the moment. She closed her eyes briefly, wanting to stretch the seconds into eternity, but she eventually felt Cam begin to pull away. Opening her eyes, she saw something outside the window that made her gasp out loud: A horrible, leering face, like something out of a nightmare. "Cam -- We're in trouble....."

Before her son could react, Kate heard the sudden breaking of glass -- and she whirled about to absorb the brunt of the impact. An energy beam struck her in the back, tossing her head back and causing her to scream in agony.

Cam felt like his entire world had turned dramatically upside down. He held his mother in his arms, smelling her burned flesh and feeling her falling into unconsciousness, while an armored monster stepped in from the rain. He summoned his mystic armor, which appeared around in him in a golden flash. When he spoke, he no longer had the timidness of youth -- for he was now Albion, spirit of the British Isles. "You're going to regret this," he warned.

"Eh, kid... You have no idea how much I regret this already." The towering armored figure stared down at Albion, watching as the youth set his mother gently to the ground. "By the way -- nice duds. I spent some time with the old Albion and his dress sense didn't compare, believe me."

Albion could scarcely believe that he was having this conversation -- this madman had attacked his mother and now he wanted to chit-chat with him? "Who are you?"

"Name's Death's Head. And I'm here to pick you up for a group called the Penanc--"

Albion didn't bother waiting to hear the rest. He knew all he needed to know -- that the man who had just injured his mother was the killer known as Death's Head. Anything more than that could wait. Cam fired a mystical energy blast that sent Death's Head II rocketing backwards through the shattered window. 

Albion flew after him, scanning for any sign of the android assassin. He was shocked to see a mostly naked beauty hovering in the air before him. The rain had soaked her hair, making it hang down straight around her shoulders. 

The girl smiled at him, her dark eyes twinkling. "Hi, Cam. I'm Tuck."

Cam hesitated, trying to remember if Death's Head II was known for having a partner... "Am I going to have to fight you?" he asked, desperately hoping the answer would be no. He hated fighting girls....

"Howzabout I save you the trouble, kid?"

Albion looked down to see Death's Head leaping towards him. The killer's right hand had been shaped into a large blade of some kind and Albion had only a moment to wonder if his armor would be strong enough to repel the attack -- and then Death's Head had buried the blade deep in Albion's midsection.

"DH! You didn't kill him, did you?" Tuck drifted over towards her partner, who now cradled the bleeding Albion in his massive arms. 

"Nah. He's tougher than he looks. Besides, the contract wants him alive, not dead."

Tuck nodded slowly, watching as Death's Head pulled the helmet from Cam's shoulders. "He's so young...."

"Yeah," the assassin agreed. "But his healing factor'll have him back up in no time. And considering the power he's packin', we'd best turn him over to the Council before that. So stop yer moonin' over him and grab hold of my shoulder."

Tuck did as she was asked, placing one gloved hand on the android's arm. She reached out with her other hand to clasp Cam's in her own... and then the three of them disappeared in a flash of light.

The Island of Lyonesse -- Pendragons Castle

"He's beautiful," Betsy Braddock cooed, holding the newest addition to the Crichton family in her arms.

Jacqueline Falsworth Crichton -- also known as the superfast Spitfire -- watched approvingly as Betsy began making baby-talk to the child. She'd brought her grandson here to help lift Betsy out of the funk she'd been in as of late -- though Jackie could well understand why the gorgeous telepath was feeling blue. The revelation that 'Archangel' was, in fact, Mimic of the Exiles hadn't helped matters, but it was the ongoing war in Otherworld that was truly keeping Betsy worried these days*. And then there were the day-to-day issues of leading the Pendragons... It was almost too much for anyone, including the current Captain Britain, to bear.

(*See Captain Britain: House Braddock # 1-4 for more details.)

"Thank you for bringing him, Jackie. Have you consulted Wynter about solving his little problem?"

"Not yet... but you're right. If anyone we know can cure him of his vampirism, it would be Wynter. The man can solve anything."

Betsy's smile widened even more. "Oh, Jackie... I love the minds of little children. They're so bright and full of energy -- Would you like to see?"

"You can do that? Oh, of course you can! Sometimes it's so hard to imagine what it's like with your powers." Jackie stepped forward and smiled at her grandson. "I'd dearly love to see what it's like, Betsy."

Captain Britain reached out with her mental powers, linking their three minds together. She heard Jackie gasp in surprise -- though the former Invader and current Pendragon was used to feeling a mental link with her teammates, she'd never before experienced something like this. The thoughts were so pure, so open that it took her breath away. She felt needs and desires, all bundled into one. And, mixed in with those, a hunger... for blood.

Betsy let the link slip away, watching as Spitfire closed her eyes to compose herself. "He's got a strong spirit, Jackie. He's going to be quite a handsome bloke, too, from the look of him."

"Yes, I think he'll have his uncle's features." Jackie put an arm around Betsy's shoulders. "Thank you for that. It was... magical."

"That's why we do this, Jackie. It's so easy to forget sometimes... but we do it for the generations still to come. All the villains, all the heartaches, it will all be worth it if they can grow up in a land free from strife."

Spitfire nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of kinship with Betsy that she never had before. "You're a good woman, Ms. Braddock."

"Thanks... I just hope I'm good enough to steer us through the days ahead."

"We've got faith in you," Jackie said, reaching over to take her grandson back into her arms. "Besides, how bad can it get? We've already defeated the son of Satan himself...."

Highgate Cemetery

The battle was as vicious as any that Joey Chapman had ever been a part of. The two men, both powered by their symbiotes, were perfectly matched in so many ways, though Venom's experience with the alien costume's abilities threatened to tip the scale in his favor. Joey had to fall back on the years of experience he had in the fighting arena to balance the affair.

And so they circled one another now, both suffering from numerous broken bones but neither willing to surrender -- for the die had been cast, and both knew that defeat would mean the absorption and annihilation of their symbiotes. If Venom were triumphant, he would be twice as powerful as before -- and Joey was unwilling to let that happen. "Give it up, Brock. It was a good row, but you're just a two-bit reporter when you get down to it...."

Venom shot forth a series of whiplike cords from his hands, wrapping them around Union Jack's legs and arms. He began pulling the hero towards him with slow deliberateness "You remind me of the Spider, the way he can't shut his mouth when he's fighting! I don't like being reminded of him -- neither of us do!"

Joey felt his costume's mind brush his own, offering suggestions and promises of victory, if he would only surrender the tiniest bit of control. Staring at Venom's sharp fangs, he felt the first wellings of desperation within him. Do it, he urged.

The costume responded immediately. It began to eat away at the cords, drawing them into its own body. Venom howled in frustration. "Stop that!"

Joey smiled, enjoying the sense of power he now felt. Every inch of Venom's symbiote that was drawn into his own added to his strength. "Stuff it, you stupid git!"

Venom dug his feet into the soft, muddy earth. He reached out, clutching at a tombstone, and lifted the slab of stone into the air. He brought it down hard against Union Jack's shoulder, shattering it. Joey cried out, feeling his vision beginning to blur. 

The costume reacted for him, increasing its attempt to 'eat' Venom's costume. The villain lost his grip on the ground and the two men suddenly found themselves pulled together. Their costumes writhed against one another and the two men locked inside began to pummel each other with their fists. Joey drove a hand hard against Brock's throat even as the villain's mouth closed around Union Jack's arm. 

From a distance, there was little evidence that this battle was even between two humans -- it looked more like two amorphous blobs merging together while bits of humanity -- an arm here, a leg there -- swam inside.

Joey felt Brock's hands lock around his throat and he raised his own to do the same to Eddie. Both men were whispering things to one another, but they came out as grunts and harsh mutterings. Neither would give up, for they had both been forged by tragedies great and small. 

Flames suddenly appeared about the both of them, causing the twin symbiotes to pull away from their hosts. Fire and sonics were the two things that could do grave damage to the alien costumes and Eddie Brock howled in frustration as the suit pulled away from him, leaving both he and Joey Chapman on the ground. They were both nude and covered with blood, each fighting for breath.

Joey looked up to see the two suits caught in a circle of flame. "What the hell....?"

"You need to look to me, son."

Joey glanced up to see an older man -- middle-aged at best -- dressed in a gold and red costume. The stranger landed before him, flames flickering all about his body. "And who do you think you are? The Human Torch?"

 Union Jack stared at the man's eyes, which suddenly shone with the full, glorious light of Avalon.

"Well, I'll be damned," Joey whispered. "You'd at least think the Lady would let us know when she's gonna do these things."

Kerosene ignored the younger man's tone -- he was used to the flippancy so common in today's heroes. It was obscene the way they treated their elders... "What do you plan to do with those things?" he asked, pointing at the twin costumes.

Joey let a long, slow grin spread over his face. "If you think you can keep them under control for awhile, I know some friends at W.H.O. that would love to get their hands on those fellows...."

Epilogue - Otherworld

Brian Braddock sat on the throne of Otherworld, his gaze locked onto several shapes that hung in the air before him. Dane Whitman... Sersi... and his own mad brother, Jamie, who lay locked in the bowels of the castle below. "Meggan, I think it's time."

His bride, the pregnant shapechanger who had adventured at his side for many years, moved to his side and put a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Do you think it will work?"

"It has to. I sent Dane to fetch this for me so long ago*, in hopes that Jamie's madness could come to an end. And now the time has come to put it to the test."

(*Waaaaay back in Pendragons # 6!)

Meggan squeezed his shoulder encouragingly, knowing how much this meant to him. With all the stress that he'd been under lately, curing Jamie had become almost a litmus test for his worth as a King... She shuddered to think what would happen if it failed.

And somewhere, beyond the mists of time, a woman watched the King and Queen of Otherworld... and her own heart was filled with sadness. For this bold gambit of King Brian's would fail... and she would make sure of it.

TO BE CONTINUED!

Next Issue: It's our big 25th issue celebration! Guest-starring Black Knight and the heroes of UltraForce! What dire threat will pit two superteams against one another? And what organization has targeted Albion as their next recruit -- whether he likes it or not? Plus: Contributions from Tom Deja, Gary Dreslinski and Gary Haplin! This is one anniversary party that you definitely won't want to miss!

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Big thanks go out to Roberto Fernandez, who contributed our "cover" for this issue. I think it looks great and really set the tone for this issue! Hopefully, we'll see more work from Roberto in the future.

Captain Kerosene is a very obscure character who debuted in the Plasmer limited series, released back in the hey-day of Marvel UK's 1990s run. He "ghosted" for the android Human Torch on some WW II missions and has a tendency to blow himself up from time to time -- it's okay, though. He comes back first as a guy made of ash and then slowly regenerates back into his human form. I've wanted to include him in this series for awhile now and with the departure of Archangel last issue and the soon-to-come departure of (CENSORED) next issue, we have some open slots in the lineup. 

Next issue's story is going to be co-plotted by my good friend Gary Dreslinski, who's been doing some fantastic work on Black Knight: Destiny Walk. I hope all of you are checking it out, because some of his storylines from that series will crash headlong into ones from this one next issue.

And after that... Well, if the next twenty-five issues contain half as many surprises as the first twenty-five, we're all in for a heck of a ride!

You can reach me at aric_dacia@yahoo.com

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