HEROES: KANDOR RISING

by watchmen4

Nathan Petrelli, Kara Kent and others form an alliance to counter the ambitions of Major Zod.

KRYPTONIAN MILITARY SAFEHOUSE
UNDISCLOSED LOCALE

Zod was not pleased.

The intelligence report he'd just read had painted a bleak picture of the campaign that he was about to wage on Earth. His army was already grossly outnumbered, surrounded on a hostile world, with Jor-El's son working against them. Pieces of Krypton lay scattered about the planet, the result of several meteor showers and a potential weapon for their enemies. But, Rao help him, that wasn't enough.

There were hundreds, if not thousands, of humans with special abilities, each leading a secret life of hiding their gifts.

Not all of the people had the needed attributes of a soldier, but that wasn't what truly concerned Zod. Did he have anywhere near an accurate number of special humans? What was the upward potential of their capabilities? How could he neutralize them before they moved against him? He needed better intelligence, so that he could act decisively.

In the meantime, he had other responsibilities.

A soldier walked into Zod's makeshift office, GPS in hand, before kneeling in salute. Zod got up from behind his desk and stood before him. This was one of his reconnaissance specialists, back from his assignment. Zod let him stay in subservient pose for a moment, enjoying the obeisance. "Rise and report."

The soldier stood, handing Zod the GPS. "I've located the target, as ordered."

"Status?"

"He's currently with his chief companion. No other known associates are in the area. Both he and the companion are unarmed."

"Good. We couldn't want him to possess the meteor rocks that Kal-El warned us about. Anything else of substance to report?"

"No, Major, but I do have a question."

Zod considered his request. "Speak freely."

"The target seems..." the scout hesitated.

"Yes?"

"He seems...too foolish to be a threat to us."

Zod sat behind his desk. "What would you do if you could change history? Would you save a loved one from death? Warn others of an impending disaster?"

A pained look crossed the soldier's face. "I would save Krypton, sir."

Zod nodded. "As good a place to start as any. And what if you could go to the future? See the results of your efforts, make corrects to your actions?"

"That's an awe-inspiring power, Major."

Zod stared at the intelligence report. "One could change history so that Earth was under the Dominion of an ascendant Kryptonian empire, our greatness reaching new zeniths. Or one could change things so that we never arrived here on this backwater world. Or that every human had special abilities. The course of our entire civilization could be altered. An awe-inspiring power indeed. One that cannot be allowed to run amok." He lifted his eyes to the soldier. "We must eliminate any chance of its negative effects."

LOS ANGELES
NEAR THE HOME OF MATT PARKMAN

"I still don't understand why we couldn't get tacos. Matt loves tacos."

Hiro Nakamura wore a frown, annoyed with his buddy Ando's incessant complaining. His he complained about getting burgers and fries instead of tacos. Next he complained about where they hot the burgers and fries from. Then he complained about walking to Matt's home instead of simply teleporting there. It was a beautiful night out, and Hiro didn't want to waste it. When was the last time they'd had a chance to stop and smell the roses? Ando had to admit that Matt lived in a beautiful neighborhood, and with the luscious lawns, classic houses and evening's gentle breeze, the walk was worth it.

"Because Janice is in a burger mood, and Matt wanted onion rings. What does it matter? You will still eat it."

Ando thought for a moment. "True. But I still prefer tacos tonight."

"How about breakfast burritos in the morning? We'll go to Jose's Place."

Ando liked the sound of that; it was a good compromise. He smiled. "Deal."

"I wouldn't worry about breakfast if I were you."

The duo stopped in their tracks, looking up to see a dark-haired figure descend the sky. "You can fly! Like Nathan Petrelli!" Hiro said with a child's excitement.

"Yes," the figure said as his feet hit the pavement. "And I can do other things as well." His eyes began to glow red, and beams of heat shot from his eyes to Hiro's chest searing through his flesh, ribs, and vital organs. Hiro's own eyes widened in agony before he seized up, his corpse hitting the ground.

"Hiro!" Ando cried. He stood there, frozen in fear and utter disbelief, before realizing that he was still in danger. He extended his hands toward his attacker, and arcs of crimson energy leapt from his hands to the attacker's body. The red lightning made the figure grimace, but he stood firm. Ando poured everything he had into the arc, fighting for his own life and to avenge Hiro, but the no avail. Their attacker simply chuckled. Finally, Ando was spent, the energy he was creating fading out. He couldn't defeat this man hand-to-hand; he was never good at that sort of thing. He had only one recourse. "I don't want to die."

"Then kneel before Zod."

Ando assumed that the murderer before was Zod, and did as told, looking as Hiro's body as tears filled his eyes. "I don't want to die."

"And yet you shall."

His eyes began to glow red.

OSAKA, JAPAN
FUNERAL OF HIRO NAKAMURA

Peter Petrelli hadn't been so down since he'd found out his brother Nathan was dead.

It was bad enough that he'd lost Ando, a man he'd fought beside on numerous occasions, a comrade in arms. But to also lose Hiro, a man he truly considered a friend, was crushing. He hung his head as he walked down the steps of the temple Hiro's services were held at. Noah Bennett was nearby, hugging his daughter Claire as she wept into his shoulder. Hiro's sister was no better off, fainting from the emotional stress not twenty minutes before. He was upset that his mother didn't even attempt to come, even after the help Hiro had given their family in the past. It made his mood even worse.

"Excuse us, Mister Petrelli."

Nathan was so rapped up in his grief that he failed to notice the well dressed African-American man right in front of him. An equally well dressed young brunette stood behind him. "Um, yes?"

He extended his hand. "Our deepest condolescences, Nathan. It's never easy to lose a friend. Hiro was a good man."

"Yes, he was. Thank you." Peter eyed them suspiciously. The last thing he needed was this mystery couple causing additional drama in his life. "I'm sorry; I didn't catch your names."

"I'm John Jones, and this is Jamie Summers." Jamie nodded in greeting. "We're putting together a philanthropic effort back in America that Hiro was going to be a part of, but with his passing, we were hoping that u could take his place."

Peter crossed his arms. "What kind of philanthropic effort? And why me?"

"Hiro thought very highly of you, Nathan," said Jamie, "and we thought very highly of him."

"Perhaps we could discuss this over a meal," Jones suggested.

Peter currently had advanced speed. If they turned hostile, he could escape harm easily. "Okay."

METROPOLIS
APARTMENT OF LYNN KEIPER

Enhanced strength.

The ability to lift a pickup truck above your head, to toss it onto enemy, the raw power of it, was something that Sylar wanted. It would fit nicely into his current repertoire of abilities. He'd never had to opportunity to get it.

Until he saw Lynn Keiper lift a car off of a pregnant woman.

It wasn't the famed adrenaline rush that people have received in the pass when a child was in danger. Lynn lifted the car effortlessly, and immediately took off running when the woman was safe. Sylar wasn't even looking for her as his next victim; he was visiting Metropolis to murder an elderly man with incredible speed. But he followed her though, not wishing to pass up this opportunity.

Lynn paid little attention to her surroundings as she entered a run down, depressed portion of the city, focusing on the music coming from her mp3 player. Gangbangers stood on the corners, busted lampposts providing them with shadows. Trash was blown to and fro, and every now and then Sylar saw a prostitute. He'd read about this neighborhood in the newspaper: Suicide Slum. If he remembered correctly, there was little to no police protection for her to depend on.

Perfect.

He didn't wait for her destination. The moment he saw an alley up ahead, he rushed up, grabbed her, and flung her into it.

"Agh!" She said as fell to the filthy ground among used condoms and empty beer cans. She looked up in terror to see Sylar looming over her. A look behind revealed a wall: dead-end alley. "Please! Just take my money!"

"Oh, your money's not want I want."

"Uh, I have AIDS!" she lied desperately.

"Even if I believed you, I don't want that, either." He made an upward sweep with his hand, and Lynn jump into the air, her feet dangling several feet above the ground. "You have something far more valuable." He extended his hand, and Lynn slammed into the wall against her back.

Sylar froze as his metahuman hearing, ability that he'd stolen pickup a rare but familiar sound.

Something-or someone?-was moving above the speed of sound.

FAR above the speed of sound.

Before he could even think of defending himself against the possible threat, he to hit the ground. Without his concentration, Lynn joined him there. A short man in a red hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses looked down on him. "Keep your hands, to yourself, Gabriel."

Gabriel! Not only did this interloper know that name, but he had the gall to utter it! No matter, he would both the girl and this young speedster, and leave the old man alone. He ignored the pain of the broken rib that the speedster had caused when he shoved him and focused his anger. "I don't know who you are," lightning coalesced around his fists, "but I'll enjoy killing you." A pair of arrows shot into his hands. "Aaaaaaah!" He wanted to pull out the arrows badly, but the pain in his hands made them useless. "You brought
others, huh? Who sent you, Denko?"

A green-clad archer with a crossbow and a blonde woman in raven leather rappelled off the roof of the adjacent building. "We've searched all over the country for you, Sylar. You're finished," said the archer.

"How dare you!" He challenged as the woman bent over him.

"Like this!" She let out a bone-rattling scream, and Sylar passed out as the pain in his ears became unbearable.

OSAKA, JAPAN
HILTON HOTEL RESTAURANT

"This is a lot to take in," Peter said as he sipped his drink. He'd seen John walk through walls, change shape, and use strange, alien technology. He'd also seen Jamie's bionic abilities. He then heard a fantastic tale of alien war and intrigue. Most important, "You think it was Zod who killed Hiro and Ando? And other 'metahumans' may be
next?"

"The burn marks on Hiro and Ando's chest were laser like," said Jamie. "That's consistent with Kryptonian heat vision." A waiter came and set their lunches on the table.

Peter shook his head. "But why kill Hiro? Who has he ever bothered?"

"Hiro was arguably the most powerful man on the planet. What was to stop him from going back in time and undoing all of Zod's hard work?"

"Which brings up another problem," John cut in. "This is an indication that there are Kandorian surveillance teams monitoring possible threats. Your niece could be on of their subjects." He picked a knife and fork and began eating his Kobe steak, while Jamie munched on a salad.

Peter chuckled, downing the last of his vodka and tonic. "It would take quite a lot to hurt Claire." He motioned the waiter for another drink.

"If they don't throw her into the sun or leave her on the moon, they'll send her to the Phantom Zone, a dark dimension Kryptonians use for capital offenders. Besides, if one Kryptonian could level a city, several can level your niece," John warned. "And Zod would every second of it."

Peter leaned back in his chair, knowing John had a point. He couldn't to Claire, his mother, and others stand. He wouldn't let his friends' murderer go free. "Where do I come in?"

John leaned forward, elbows on the table. "We've put together a small tactical unit, who'll monitor Kandorian activity and strike at targets of opportunity: safehouses, weapons caches, etc. We'll do everything we can to keep them off balance. At the same time we'll mobilize Earth's metahuman community; conventional forces don't stand a chance against a powered Kandorian. We'd like you to be a part of the effort."

"Your abilities ability would allow you to be on par with a Kryptonian," said Jamie. "And your medical skills would be invaluable."

"Our benefactor will provide you with a salary, room and board, and life insurance."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Benefactor?"

John smiled, thinking of Oliver Queen. "An individual with large resources who supports our efforts."

Peter didn't need much time to make a decision.

"THE CASTLE"
CHECKMATE HEADQUARTERS

Sylar wasn't in a jail cell, and he wasn't handcuffed, which was a good thing.

But he didn't know where in the world he was, which was bad.

What he did know was that he was seated in a small room with just two chairs, including the one he was currently using. There was a band-aid on his arm, as if he'd been or perhaps injected; it would explain the slightly loopy sensation he was experiencing. A two-way mirror was to his front and a door to his right, and he guessed he really was in a police station. Where had the speedster and his friends come from? And why drop him off with the police? That was a huge mistake. They should have killed him right then and there.

Because when he got out of here, he would hunt them down and kill them.

The door opened, and a middle-aged African-American woman a business suit entered the room. "Good morning, Mister Sylar."

Sylar raised a hand to send her slamming back through the door with a mere gesture, but nothing happened. His hearing didn't pickup anything beyond normal range, either. He couldn't fly or use any of his other powers.

The woman sat calmly sat across from him. "Your abilities have been nullified by a chemical we've injected you with. You'll be impotent for the next two hours."

Sylar glared, trying to figure out his next step. Even without his abilities he could bring harm to this woman. Why was she so confident? "Who are you?"

"I'm Amanda Waller, director of Checkmate."

Sylar shook his head. "Never heard of it."

"Good. We prefer it that way, and so does the President. We're responsible for monitoring and neutralizing metahuman threats to national security."

"Metahuman?" He'd never encountered that word before. "Do you mean people with abilities?"

"Yes. So we know about you and your murderous rampage across the country, in search of more abilities." Waller smiled. "And we find it useful. So when your name popped up in the Metropolis Police database, we took custody of you and brought you here."

Now Sylar realized why she was so confident. "Where exactly is 'here'?"

"Our headquarters."

"If you want me to join your little club, you're gonna have to tell me more than that. Last thing we'd want is a," he gestured vaguely "misunderstanding."

She laughed as his threat as if it meant nothing. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to join our black ops group and eliminate metahuman threats. You're welcome to steal the abilities of anyone you kill." The smile disappeared. "If you don't play ball, we'll kill you, just as easily as we took away your abilities. And don't think you can escape and expose us. We're so deep in the shadows nothing you do will work. Besides, no one will believe a man wanted for killing his own mother. Understood?"

At this moment, he wasn't in a position to resist, and knew that she would eventually betray him. But as he gained abilities and information about Waller, he'd be stronger.

He'd kill her, then that trio that put him here in the first place. "So tell me about this black ops group."

Waller's smile returned, this time a mirthless, predatory grin. "The group's name is Suicide Squad."

"Actually, I do. I know what it's like to have the government looking for you." He pointed a thumb to the kitchen. "I was just about to make a sandwich. Anybody else want one?"

KANDORIAN ARMY HEADQUARTERS
UNDISCLOSED LOCALE

"Major Zod."

Zod opened his eyes slowly, waking from a fit sleep to see Basqat, his executive officer, kneeling in salute. Zod had been awake for seventy-six hours straight planning and leading operations, and after a quick meal had finally retired, his body demanding rest. He'd been asleep for thirty minutes before Basqat had ended his slumber. Dark-skinned and muscular, Basqat had done an excellent job of amassing weapons, funds, and other resources for the Kandorians. Basqat was not excitable, nor would he disturb Zod for a trivial matter. Zod diffused the irritation of losing sleep with that thought. "Report."

"The intelligence data that we fed to Checkmate is being acted upon as we speak. A strike team is currently en route to the target."

Zod smiled. Zod had given an anonymous tip the FBI about people flying in and out of someone's home, and shooting lasers out of their eyes. That home was a building that one of his surveillance teams had seen Kara Zor-El enter. Though she was careful about being followed, Zod's scouts were superb. As expected, the FBI wrote off the tip as the ravings of a crackpot loony, Checkmate did no such thing. Now they'd see what Waller's Suicide Squad could do against a Kryptonian, providing Zod with valuable intelligence. If they killed the niece of Jor-el, then all the better. Kal-El wouldn't be far behind. "That is excellent news, Basqat. I'm glad you woke me. I think I'll observe this little tussle."

BRAVO TEAM MANSION
STAR CITY

The spacious building that the team would be using as both their base of operations and living quarters was decked out in the best, latest furniture and gadgets, but Nathan's favorite item was the computer that Kara built from a Kryptonian crystal. With it, he was able to create a program to monitor to emergency services. After copying her Kryptonian abilities and obtaining medical supplies, he was able to speed around Star City and save ten people in one day alone. Jamie didn't like grumbling about possible Checkmate or Zod, but John said nothing, so Jamie let it go. She didn't say much to him, spending the majority of her time strategizing with John. Kara was in and out, either on reconnaissance missions or recruiting trips. Though the four them could pack a punch, it was nothing compared to the numbers they'd need to take on Kandorians.

Peter was now in the kitchen making a sandwich, preparing himself for another few hours of emergency response when he heard a cheer come from the living room. He put down the loaf of bread and walked over to see what the commotion was about. Kara and John smiled at each other, the news program they were watching ignored as Kara put down her cell phone. "Hey, what's all the excitement about?"

"Oh, Nathan." Kara muted the television. "I've just heard from Watchtower: Sylar's been captured. He was taken into police custody a few hours ago."

"Wow! That's great!" Finally, he could stop worrying about Sylar harassing Claire or finding another victim. His smile disappeared, though. "Wait, who's Watchtower? I thought Bravo Team only had four members?"

Kara and John shared a quick glance. "Watchtower acts as a source of information for the team," John answered. "I can't tell you more than that; Watchtower prefers to keep their identity compartmentalized."

"And I haven't earned their trust yet."

John looked slightly embarrassed. "I'm sure you understand."

John shrugged. "Why not? Maybe some cookies, too." Kara simply frowned.

Peter frowned. "My sandwiches aren't that bad."

She shook her head. "No, don't you hear it?" She furrowed her brow in concentration. "It's an engine."

Peter still hadn't gotten use to managing Kryptonian senses. "I can't pick it up."

"It's there, I know that sound, it's..." she trailed off for a moment before wearing a trouble look. "Chopper inbound. Military grade."

"Checkmate," they all said at once.

CHECKMATE BLACKHAWK HELICOPTER
INBOUND TO BRAVO TEAM MANSION

Sylar hated Suicide Squad.

He was never a team player to begin with. People were victims, not associates. Teammates slowed you down, questioned your decisions, and expected your help. He could accomplish alone what an entire team could do. But to have these teammates...

"It's really good to see you again," Elle Bishop said over the headset.

"What is he your ex or something?" Vordigan checked the status of his crossbow.

"Shut up, archer," said Sylar.

"Or what?" The Dark Archer cocked an arrow.

"Or I'll fry you in that seat," Elle warned. Her right hand crackled with energy. The medic seated next to her shifted in his seat nervously.

"We'll see, Blondie." He patted a bottle of water. "Wonder how a battery like you handles water."

"Stay focused," Sarah Corvus ordered. She rubbed her M-4 rifle gently like a newborn.

Sylar looked over to see Corvus, the unit leader, staring at him. Again. The bionic murderer tilted her head slightly to the side. "If you don't turn you attention elsewhere, I'll slice your throat open when I'm done with Vordigan."

"Ooh," sat slid her legs open, "talk dirty to me." She looked out of the starboard side window as the helicopter began to land. "Is that...is that Jamie Summers?" Her bionic vision kicked in, and she saw Jamie on the lawn next to three other people. Jamie was clad in black body armor, looking nothing like the inexperienced operative that Corvus remembered. Everyone strained to see who Corvus was talking about. "It is!" She eyed everyone. "The brunette is mine!"

"We should abort," Vordigan cautioned. "We were told to expect one metahuman, not a possible four."

"He's right," Elle agreed.

"Who cares what you think?" Elle looked wounded from Sylar's rebuke. He turned to Corvus. "Let's kill these people already."

Corvus smiled. "A man after my own heart." The helicopter touched down, and she slid the door open.

Suicide Squad stepped onto the lawn, with their quarry thirty yards away. An older African-American man frowned at the site of her. "What do you want?"

"Peter Petrelli," Sylar whispered to himself. The two men glared at each other.

"Don't play dumb with me." She aimed her rifle at him, and Vordigan followed suit with several arrows pointed a pretty blonde. "Hop in the chopper. Now."

"Why are we talking?" Sylar asked.

"Shut up, uni-brow."

"Rally point alpha," he told his comrades.

Then he turned invisible.

"Interesting." She swung her rifle to Jamie and opened fire.

The pretty stood in front of Jamie and let the bullets bounce off of her chest. She didn't even seem to feel them. Invulnerability! Sylar thought to himself. Peter's eyes turned red, and Corvus' rifle turned red with them. She cried out as she dropped her weapon. "What did you do?" Jamie closed the distance between almost instantly and slammed reinforced gauntlet into Corvus' jaw, sending several teeth flying. Sylar lifted his hand to send Jamie flying into the rotors of the helicopter when the older man suddenly appeared out of thin air. Sylar took a hard uppercut to the stomach, making him double over. Before he could stand upright he was tossed to the other side of the yard. He several bones break as he hit the grass, and he began to heal.

Elle let out a howl of rage as she unleashed a storm of electricity on the African-American. He dropped to his knees in pain. Vordigan fired a trio of arrows into Jamie's unarmored calf, and her scream filled the lawn. Peter ran at superspeed and grabbed both Vordigan and Elle, taking them over the horizon. The older man rose, looking angry. Their medic took one look at an unconscious Corvus and dropped his rifle and put his hands behind his head. "I surrender!" The helicopter pilots followed suit.

Peter returned with a medical bag and kneeled over Jamie. "How bad is it?"

He smiled. "Better than I thought. You'll be okay."

"Where'd you take them?"

"Alaska."

Sylar rose, his legs completely healed. The odds were no longer in his favor. To bad the rest of Suicide Squad wasn't dead.

He heard someone floating towards him from behind, the disturbance in the air catching his attention. He turned to hit his attacker with a burst of radiation to instead feel himself being pulled towards them. The pretty blonde was holding some sort of disk, and it irised open to reveal a bleak desert landscape. Dangerous winds created a duststorm. Where could this be? Death Valley? "Who are you people?" The pull began to grow stronger, like an invisible vortex, and he could barely resist it. It took all of his strength to hold his ground.

"You've left us no choice," she said. "It's time for you to leave Earth, forever."

The pull became overpowering, and Sylar's attempt to fly away produced nothing. He went head first into the unknown location, landing hard on the unforgiving ground. He looked back through the portal to see Peter nodding in satisfaction before the iris closed.

The wind assaulted his skin with sand, it howl ringing in his ears. Two figures, completely covered in black, stood nearby. Sylar shielded his eyes from the sand as one of them chuckled, a female voice. "Well, well. Looks like the House of El has sent us a new playmate."

"Where am I?"

"Don't you know?"

"Would I ask if I did?"

The chuckle became a full laugh. "You ignoramus. You're in the world of nothing, a world where Krypton sends its true heroes. A world of suffering for which the House of El will pay.

"Welcome to the Phantom Zone."

TWENTY THOUSAND FEET ABOVE BRAVO TEAM MANSION

Zod looked down on the metahuman melee with glee. Kal-El's associates had grown in number, but not dangerously so, and Checkmate was a joke. His plan was on target. "I am coming fir you, Kal-El.

"I will have Earth."