LXG2
By Andrea Churchill
Disclaimer: Many scenes and converses owned by Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neil, and all League of Extraordinary Gentlemen ownerships. Anything that hasn't been made up already, I have possession.
July, 1899
Mars
On the mountainous, rust colored planet of Mars, red dust blows constantly to the west, on the barren dry land. A foreign patterned carpet cuts through the wind like a blade, supporting a man covered in beige cloth. Two glowing moons could been seen in the sky diagonal from each other, through the narrow passageway of arid scarlet rocks and swirls of burnt tornados.
Once landing, the cloth covered man could be seen more clearly, by the looks of it a man of Indian descent, holding his gun and sword of untried marking, and showing a strange gas-masked like face, looking around for someone…or something. While rolling up his airborne mat, a green creature comes up from behind him, speaking a language not familiar to any native tongue on Earth. The creature stood about three times the man's height and size, and cloaked a green cloth, and held several strange weapons as of yellow, purple, and red as the dust beyond them. His fourth arm held a golden staff, about twenty feet in length. After strangely conversing, the two…creature and man…walked for miles before entering some sort of camp, occupied with hundreds of black stone domed tents and similar green creatures, some resembling dinosaurs. Once being led to a tent surrounded by odd statues of warriors and eccentric equipment, a black haired man with a stricken face wearing a red robe draped with swords and outlandish hairpieces sat by some sort of smoke machine. The beige cloaked man withdrew his mask and hood, revealing a blonde haired man with blue eyes, and a war struck expression.
"John." He extended his hand.
"Gulliver. Good to see you again." The man lifted his head in pride, whisking away the metal coils running down his back.
"How are your people? Are you all ready to move, yet?"
The man, seeming to be named John, walked over to a surface where he served a strange type of lime green liquor out of a gourd-shaped canteen.
"Well, I've got about five hundred of the Hither people camped down the canyon. I've been able to march them down here from the settlement of Varnal earlier today."
"Varnal, eh? You mean the Green City?"
"Yes…or what's left of it."
John handed blonde-haired Gulliver a drink as they paced their way through the room, coming up in front of a giant sand colored map of the planet Mars and all its civilizations, stretching up to the ceiling.
"It's been so long since our first settlement; we've made quite an adjustment to the different species among our foreigner planet."
"Indeed."
The two gazed among the map, until John pointed to a certain area in the north-east.
"Well, we sincerely have more important things to discuss. The Sorns have promised us a legion from the north. Coming from the south east and west, we will soon have the Molluscs in a pincer."
"That's good. Maybe this time they can be driven away for good."
"Let's not bet on it."
"Well, I can have the Hithers up over the canyon wall within minutes. They could make a nice addition."
"Fine. That should make the attack immediate with our aid of the Sorns."
The two human men shook each other's hands strong and firm.
"Good luck, Gulliver. May Ares be with you."
The men came out of the tent, dressed properly for the battle beyond Mars' surface. Hundreds of green creatures surrounded their lieges, readied for combat.
Gulliver retrieved onto his mat, and into the moon he went, amid the red sand, and saluted his good friend.
Swinging his leg over a gigantuous black creature with snarling teeth, blazing red eyes and eight skinny legs, John trot down the sandy storm, followed by hundreds of men following upon the same creature.
An unfamiliar battle cry was made as the swarm of aliens led by one man swept over the mountainous region for quite a while, finally seeing in the unclear distance an allied group of men…hundreds, swiftly showing Gulliver in their line of battle. Phases of demonic creatures from both teams appeared before a humongous metal structure in the middle of the desert sand, opposing on both sides. It stretched for almost a mile, its odd structural pattern amid the camouflaging rust tinted soil. Carefully approaching its ends, three aliens among their horse-like creatures collapsed under the configuration and beneath the infertile Mars.
Dozens of men collapsed even then as the Martian ship holding squid-like formations rose high in the air, almost to a hundred feet. It looked, in simplest terms, like several brains in armor. The armies grew frantic.
"John!" Gulliver called out from the distance upon his flying fixation.
"John…down in the south east they had a tripod waiting, and—" Gulliver stopped when he saw the horrific, familiar mechanism attacking through the air.
"Good, God! Not here, too?"
John trotted a bit on his horse, slightly retrieving back from the obvious danger. "I'm afraid so. The Molluscs are using the black smoke…we can't see a damn thing!"
A few of the creatures gave horrendous expressions to the blinding method of their enemy.
"What about the Hithers' ray cannon? Would we be able to cripple them?"
"The tripod was upon us before we could remove its dust tarpaulin."
The two comrades gazed into each other's masked eyes.
"John…we have to fall back…"
Paying no heed to his word, John galloped on towards the distance, viewing the hopeful scene.
"Maybe not…"
Stick-thin grey creatures stretching tens of feet into the air with triangular faces and glowing hands gently walked amid the desert, slowly bringing down the tripod.
"My God…Sorns. I've never thought I'd live to see one."
"Yes…thank the Gods for their arrival. Now that they've brought down the tripods, lets now hope that the Hithers' cannon can blast through the Mollusc encampment's outer shell."
Slowly wheeling through a beige designed canon, larger than any invented on Earth, shot a light blue ray through the walled gate, blasting an explosion through the barrier.
"Damn. It's deserted." Said John with a grousing voice.
"Not entirely deserted…look! What's that over there, in that cage?"
Walking up to a golden cage, a skinnier and less sturdy looking alien with broad stretched feathered wings crouched up on the inside, begging for rescue.
"My God…I…I think it's a captured Sorn!"
"Yes…yes I believe it is! But it looks as if the Molluscs have performed flesh-mechanics on it. They've given it wings…"
"Vile…what's that over there?"
Walking up to a deserted brown tent, only a few tables among the insides supported several glowing objects which captured Gulliver's undivided attention.
"Hmm…a campaign hut, possibly? This material…what is it, exactly? I believe I've once heard of a substance similar to this in which the Molluscs secrete themselves…"
"John…I believe you should come look at this."
Gulliver picked up a clear cube, showing technological images within.
"Th—they're some kind of photographic cubes, but the images within…there's one of me…and then there's you and the princess…and here's one of Earth…"
"Gulliver! Over here!"
Upon another table stood a golden glass egg sitting upon a snake formed base. It resembled a crystal ball, showing images within as well.
"Incredible…a glass egg with moving pictures! But what is this place? That's not America…"
The picture had shown a table, sitting upon a headed statue and newspaper. A window viewed through a darken sky, with a few people walking past the gas lamped street lights.
"No…no I think it's somewhere in England. Wait a minute…"
A green creature came up to John and conversed with him in the strange alienist language.
"What'd he say?" asked Gulliver.
"He said there's some sort of thunder coming from beyond the inner walls of the encampment. He says it sounds like it could blow any minute."
"Some type of bombing, perhaps?"
"No, I don't think they—"
Just then, beyond the thick grey stone walls of the encampment, a bullet shaped rocket shot up slowly into the sky…fire leaving from its path.
"It looks like some sort of artificial meteor! They're shooting it out into space!" said John.
"Perhaps they're leaving! Perhaps they're finally leaving Mars forever!" Gulliver spoke with ecstatic stimulation. However, John seemed a bit uneasy.
"I don't know…this doesn't seem right to me…I—"
"Look! There goes another one!" Gulliver shouted.
And, as he spoke it, another black mechanism shot right up into the night sky.
"They're refugee ships! They're fleeing after all these years!" Gulliver couldn't contain his excitement.
John's face was hard and cold. His eyes showed fear, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
"Dear God…Gulliver…that's no refugee…it's an armada. Those photographic cubes…the egg…they know about us. They know where we come from. Earth…"
John's eyes widened in horror, unable to contain the expression.
"Gulliver…they're headed towards Earth."