( Volume: 3 Arc: "whatserface" 12 Issue: 4/5 )

Chapter 130: harmony


"I am Gladiator, Superguardian of the Shi'ar Imperium. My sworn duty is to preserve stellar harmony," said the tallest man, with the Mohawk-style hair. "I am truly sorry for what must occur."

Julian, Santo and Joan were silent, staring at the odd assortment of humanoids that had descended from the boomerang. Some glowed, some sparkled, some were merely green blobs, covered in little
tentacles. They had joined the man wearing the X-costume.

"Are you gonna give us our memories back?" Santo asked stupidly.

"It would make it more difficult," Gladiator said. "No—I think it best that you go quietly, without knowledge of what you are leaving behind."

"…" Joan tried to speak (again), then kicked the ground, yelled noiselessly in her suit (her mouth forming what seemed to be swearwords); finally she pressed the communication button. "Go quietly?" she asked.

Gladiator nodded. "I am here, by the order of the Empress, to eradicate the heir to the Phoenix. Prior experiences have shown that such a destructive force cannot be allowed to exist."

"Phoenix?" Julian asked, blinking.

"As the son of Jean Grey-Summers, you are the heir to the force. It was hoped that the power would die with her, and that such actions would be unnecessary…however, large emissions of telepathic
and telekinetic energy have been detected from your planet. We cannot allow for this."

"…" Joan looked at Julian. "What, really? Him?"

"I don't feel all that special," Julian said in a small voice. He didn't know his own name, and he certainly didn't have the foggiest idea of what these strange, threatening looking beings were talking about. He
got the sense, though, that they meant business—and that they were planning something unpleasant.

For him.

"Yes, him," Gladiator said, sounding vaguely annoyed that they had made him repeat himself. "This is the heir to the Phoenix. Jean Grey's son, Julian Keller. And for this, he must die. I am sorry."

"…" Joan said something, cursed and pressed the button. "The fuck—die? Are you on some special alien drugs or something?! He's a student at a school for crying out loud!"

Julian stared dumbly at Gladiator. The man sounded so authoritative, so confident.

"Whoa, dude—" Santo said. "You can't just kill him!"

"Yeah," Julian said, realizing he should probably defend himself. "What they said. I, er, I have no idea what you're talking about…and there is no way in hell you're going to kill me. Over my dead body!"

Joan rolled her eyes. "Encourage them, why don't you."

"Excuse me for not have the best comeback ever!" Julian blurted, angry now at Joan. "This guy just told me him and his friends are going to—"

"They are not my friends…we are the Imperial Guard," Gladiator interrupted.

"—kill me," Julian continued, ignoring this. "That's a lot to have shoved on your plate all of a sudden! How would you like it if—"

"You think I agree with this?!" Joan snapped.

"How about how I feel?!" Santo interjected.

"ENOUGH," Gladiator said in a firm voice. "There will be no contesting this. It is your choice, to die an honorable death. We can terminate you…or you can take off your helmet and let nature take its course. At
the last moments, your true nature will most likely shine through…and that's why we are here, to help you conquer it and slip into a peaceful death."

"You make it sound like he's an old man at a nursing home!" Joan snapped.

Santo chortled, and Julian shot a glare at him. "Not funny."

"Julian," the man in the X-uniform said, his voice weary. "Please…listen to him. What Jean Grey did…what she became…we can't ever let it happen again. The X-men knew this. We thought it was over…and then
you…with Magneto…I saw something, and we can't risk the whole planet's well-being on your life."

"Who are you, anyway?" Julian asked.

"Name's Morph," the man replied quietly.

Gladiator shifted. "Enough delay. We—"

"This isn't a fair deal!" Joan interrupted. "We have no say in this! We're outnumbered ten-to-one! You said you're some sort of imperial guard or something?"

"Yes," Gladiator said. "The Shi'ar—"

"Then don't you have a code of conduct? I demand to talk to your queen bee or whatever you guys worship!"

Silence. Julian (at first) thought the guardians would begin to attack, but then Gladiator nodded. "Fair enough. You are X-men, and you are Professor Xavier's Students. Therefore, we will grant you an
audience with Empress Lilandra."

"Brilliant idea, Joan," Julian hissed. "Get us locked in a tiny holding cell in space, so we can be even more overpowered—in outer space—while moving farther and farther away from any support
we could have hoped for!"

Joan stared out through the cell's force field glumly. She'd removed the bubble dome of her spacesuit—as the environment contained oxygen—and was now hugging it to her front as she sat on the floor.

"I blame you, Keller," Santo grumbled. "I shoulda known better than to get mixed up with you two."

"…" Julian made a face but said nothing.

A little while later:

"Have you tried to see if you're this Phoenix-thing?" Santo asked. "It sounds pretty bad ass, if they're this concerned about snuffin' it…I dunno man but I think it could bust us out of this jam."

"He's right," Joan said. "Try it."

Julian rolled his eyes. "So what? I just think really hard about birds?"

"Or about getting us out of here," Joan said.

"Okay, okay, be quiet for a sec while I turn it on." Julian screwed up his eyes and contorted his face (somehow, Joan thought she might have seen this before, on someone else). A few moments passed.

"Are we out yet?" Julian asked.

"Dude, nothing happened," Santo said. "It looked like you really had to fart though."

"Maybe I did, and you just don't know it," Julian shot back.

"Silent but deadly," Santo said, edging back towards his corner.

"He didn't," Joan said. "I have an enhanced sense of smell. He might in like an hour or two, but not now."

Her companions stared at her; she shrugged and went back to examining the outside of the cell.

"Seriously…I can't do whatever they think I can," Julian said, after a while.

"Maybe you don't need to," Joan said. "You can move things with your mind…like for instance, buttons." She was peering out of the cell, at a wall panel.

Julian got to his feet and joined her at the corner. "What if I hit the wrong ones?" he asked.

"Then we all die?" Joan suggested.

"I don't want to die," Santo voiced.

"I don't want you to die," Julian said to Joan in a lower voice, putting his hand on her arm. "Maybe I should just let them do me in."

Silence.

"Whoa, awkward!" Joan said. "Uh, thank you, I guess?"

"Burrrrn," Santo said from the corner.

"Yeah, you're quite welcome," Julian said, wrinkling his nose. "I was thinking more along the lines of your two kids, actually. No reason they should be orphans, right?"

"Right," Joan agreed enthusiastically.

"I'll step in for ya, man," Santo added. "Make sure they're not missing a father figure or nothin'."

"You guys must be my best friends," Julian said sarcastically. "I mean, my best."

"Totally," Joan agreed.

"Asshats." Julian looked at the panel of buttons again. "They're not even in English."

"There goes that idea!" Santo said. "Unless you want to, like, drunk-type."

"I like any sentence with the word 'drunk' in it," Joan said.

Julian considered this, then randomly pelted the keyboard across the room with small mental pressures. The panel lit up, and a siren went off somewhere in the distance; he and Joan jumped
backwards and rushed to the opposite corner.

A few minutes later, a guard came over, checked the panel, then looked at their cell with a suspicious expression. Julian pretended to be asleep.

Eventually the guard shrugged and left.

"This sucks," Santo complained loudly.

The three stumbled forwards—their arms held tightly at their backs—into a large metallic room, decorated with strange, naturally shaped crystals.

Soft voices spoke a strange language from either side of the entry way, and a short figure in the middle of the room turned away from the window to face them. It was that of a woman, with a
strange triangular shaped hat, and facial tattoos. Her features were stern, compassionate, and intelligent; it was obvious that she was the queen.

"Her Imperial Highness Lilandra, Lux Gloriana of Galactic Space," Gladiator murmured to them, his voice full of reverence.

The woman eyed the three captives with the gaze of a hunting bird.

"This is the boy, then," she said, her voice soft.

"Your majesty," Gladiator said, sinking to his knee. The other guards did the same, pulling the captives down with them. Joan tried to lock her knees, found the man holding her insanely strong,
and so she stumbled down in a less-than-graceful manner, landing on the floor with a loud thunk!

Lilandra waited.

"Your majesty, this is the boy," Gladiator confirmed.

"The Phoenix," Lilandra said, watching Julian. "You understand I act for the good of the empire." This was not a question.

Joan glared at her. "Yeah, I see how it's important that you kill someone who was trying to help you by—"

Gladiator turned to her in anger, but Lilandra raised her hand. "Let her speak."

"—help you by returning a citizen of your empire he assumed was sincerely missed," Joan finished, her voice outraged. "You assume that he's whatever you're looking for. You can't even prove
that he's this 'phoenix' thing!"

"He is of the Grey bloodline," Lilandra said. "That is enough. The power is inherited."

"I don't even know who I am!" Julian burst. "How do I know who I'm related to? You could be lying, and I'd have no way of knowing for sure!"

"APOLOGIZE," Gladiator thundered, rising to his feet.

Lilandra glared at her servant. "Gladiator. Silence."

"Yes, Magistrex," the man said, bowing his head.

Moments of silence.

"They will be allowed a duel," Lilandra said, "A duel of honor, as is fair. To the death. The boy and his companions will be allowed to defend themselves against a fair armament. The survivors will be
free to leave, and their memories will be restored. However, should the Phoenix manifest, he will be executed. Should it not…then the benefit of the doubt will be his."

"Your majesty is fair," Gladiator said.

Julian traded a sharp look with Joan—one of panic.