James Rhodes was soaring through the air; he was just shy of 20 000 feet above Afghanistan and was rapidly descending.
For nearly the past 5 months, he had been assessing the situation all over the world from his hidden satellite base. Whenever he could, he would hit the Skrulls where they weren't expecting it.
Today he was tracking a convoy of the aliens. Despite the rest of their success, the Skrull Empire was having as much trouble bringing peace to the Middle East as everyone who came before them. Even a heavy handed approach didn't seem to be working. But they could have learned that from the Soviet experience in the 80s.
The people here have been fighting technologically advanced super-powers for well over a thousand years, and Rhodes was certain they would be doing so for a similar amount of time in the future. To the various insurgent fighters, the difference between a laser blast from low orbit and a hellfire missile from a drone was fairly academic.
Now, Rhodes was no lover of the groups that fought here. Hell, he killed a good number of the worst ones himself. But anybody who was actually putting up a fight against the Skrulls was in his good books; at least for now. The old adage of 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' was as true as ever.
As he was knocked about by the wind, he briefly wondered if that applied to Doom, or if that tin-plated dictator was playing them.
Actually, on second thought, Doom was certainly playing them.
Rhodes was happy to blast these green skinned scum-suckers off the Earth, and he was happy to accept help if that end was reached. But when Doom made his move to turn the situation to his advantage (a time which Rhodes had no doubt would come), he would be there to put that arrogant prick six feet under.
He saw his target moving into the mountain pass where he planned this ambush. When he was only thousands of feet away, his sensors picked out his targets on his HUD. It was a six vehicle convoy. There were two alien tanks, heavy hovering vehicles, at the front and back of the convoy. Behind the lead vehicle were four lighter hover vehicles; APCs of some kind.
The Skrulls could airlift anything they wanted to anywhere they wanted, so this was clearly a battle group. It seemed to be a recon-in-force, hoping to draw out insurgents so they could be eliminated by air power. The convoy was in a mountain pass, almost deliberately making itself a tantalizing target.
"I'd best not disappoint them," Rhodes said to himself as he was buffeted by the thickening atmosphere and winds.
As he closed to about 800 feet, the front vehicle was rocked by a massive explosion. It looked like some insurgents had agreed that this a perfect place for an ambush. The alien tank was violently knocked sideways before the hover mechanism failed, and it landed roughly. Whoever had made that IED managed to get several antitank mines together, based on the blast size.
Even still, the tank's turret swivelled around, menacingly searching for targets. Rhodes' sensors detected about a dozen contacts appear on the sides of the valley, and he saw RPGs fire on the APCs. Skrulls rapidly debarked their vehicles and took up firing positions, lasers lighting up the hillsides.
Time to turn this dead end into a kill box. He adjusted his trajectory to the rear tank. Its cannon pulsed a bright green as it fired a plasma bolt into one of the hillside positions, setting off a secondary explosion of hidden munitions.
With a screeching crash, Warmachine landed on the tank, crumpling its hull. The hover mechanism whined as it resisted the sudden impact, bouncing off the ground briefly before returning to limited flight. The cannon glowed green as it built up its charge, and Rhodes roughly grabbed it. He gripped just under the turret ring and ripped it upwards. The turret went flying in a shower of metal and sparks and a pair of Skrull crewmen looked up through their new skylight in shock.
"Welcome to Earth," he said as he ignited his flamethrower. He had seen and heard horrible things during his years of war, and easily dismissed the wretched screams of the aliens.
He turned his attention towards the squad of troops nearest to him. They were prone, taking effective cover against the insurgents in the hills, and fully exposed to him. His shoulder chain-gun made a load "BRRRRRT" as it stitched a quick burst of fire across the line of aliens, and he followed with fire from his wrist mounted 9mm at anyone left moving. In a few tight bursts he wiped out the squad.
The nearby APC turned its laser cannon towards Rhodes, and he dodged to the side, shoulder rolling down behind the ruined tank as the lasers flared over his head. Another volley of RPGs from the hillside hit the APC, and it exploded, flipping over itself.
Rhodes dashed forwards with his thrusters, stopping under the falling vehicle. He braced himself and caught it, servos whining in his legs as yellow icons, indicating inertia precautions, appeared in his vision. He hefted and tossed the vehicle into the next squad of Skrulls. The quickest alien soldiers called out warnings to their fellows as they turned and ran out of cover, but were cut down in a hail of AK-47 fire. The slower aliens had a tank land on them.
Small arms laser fire exploded around him. He looked and he could see the last squad. They were in disarray, with several members down, some still firing on the hill, and a few taking firing positions on him.
The third APC was stitching fire up the valley, and Rhodes saw it catch four of the insurgents as they repositioned. The strobing laser burned holes through the men and immolated their clothing. Before he could react, he was hit by a flurry of energy bolts from the Skrulls. His armour withstood the impacts, but beads of sweat formed on his remaining flesh as the temperature in his shell jumped a dozen degrees.
"That all you got, mofos?!" he yelled. He blasted automatic 9mm from both wrists, cutting down the aliens shooting him in mists of green blood. At the same time, he deftly twisted and fired an AP shell from his other shoulder into the APC. The shell impacted the vehicle with a loud 'THUD' and its gun fell silent as a shower of molten metal and spawling shrapnel turned the crew into a Skrull soup.
At last, he realized this battle was done. The last Skrull squad was pinned and wiped out in short order by crossfire from the machine guns on both sides of the valley, and the other tank crew apparently bailed out and escaped in the confusion.
Rhodes raised his hands to try and show he wasn't a threat and looked around the valley for his 'allies'. His sensors picked up a few on each side, checking for their wounded and policing weapons, while two men came down the hill towards him. They were both clothed in local garb, with clearly scavenged tactical webbing, and black scarves and turbans obscuring their features. While they weren't acting aggressively, they kept their Kalashnikovs ready.
"As-salam alaykom" Rhodes said as he kept his hands up.
The first man cocked his eyebrow as he replied, "Wa Alykom As-slam," before removing his face scarf. He revealed a weather worn face, heavy with wrinkles and a thick black beard. "Though I do not think there will be much peace for either of us. You stand with us American?" inquired the man in clean English.
Rhodes popped open his face mask. "I'm just trying to put up a fight against the Skrulls. Anybody doing the same is on my team."
"Just like when we fought the Russians for you, eh?" the insurgent said, warily. If the man was off-put by Rhodes' half machine skull, he didn't show it.
"I suppose, though the Soviets where hardly good guys either. Regardless I'm happy to see people fighting against these bastards," Rhodes replied.
"Don't worry American, this is no change for us. I thank you for your help, but we need to become scarce before the enemy returns."
"Before you go, here's a communicator so we can get in contact. Don't worry, its untraceable," he said, handing over a small device. He eyed their weapons before continuing, "I'll see if I can find you guys something with more pop than these old RPG-7s too."
"Just like with the Soviets," the militant said wistfully as he reaffixed his face scarf and shook his head knowingly
Rhodes wished the militants luck, before flying back to his satellite and his flight to low orbit was uneventful. Tony had built it for just such an eventuality, though it was unlikely he imagined this one.
When Rhodes returned to the stealth orbital installation, he settled into its core and the airlock cycled behind him. He reclined into the central command seat, and machinery begin repairing and reloading his armour. As the automated systems prepped his armour back to readiness, he slumped into the only chair in his station.
He was tired, or at least the human portions of him were. When he was out fighting, he could concentrate on the mission, but when he returned to this lonely station, he had the time to realize how minute his efforts were.
He also hated to admit it, but he secretly wondered if Doom was his only hope. He was a just a soldier; the Tony Starks, the Nick Furys, the Norman Osbornes, and the Victor Von Dooms; they were the guys who had the vision to lead people out of these situations.
He looked over the read outs of inventory, feeling grim as his stock of resupply slowly dwindled.
MUNITIONS:
9mm: 42%
5.55x45mm: 5%
7.62x51mm: 28%
AP: 12%
ARMOUR:
REPLACEMENT PLATE: 56%
SERVOS, ELECTRONICS : 61%
POWER CORE & ACCESSORIES: 85%
"Will to fight? 100%," he said to himself wearily, mostly believing it.
He heard a ring and a holographic readout popped up. It was the communicator that Doom had given him. He had integrated the device into the station, and made sure to scrub the tracking abilities it had. With a thought, he summoned a small holographic projector, and a technological ghost of Doom appeared in front him.
"Colonel Rhodes; you've been busy," remarked Doom.
"Someone's got to actually fight the Skrulls, instead of cozying up to them," he sardonically replied.
Doom audibly growled before speaking, "And one of us needs to have a plan to retake our world. Which brings me to my point; meet me at these coordinates, at this time. And do try to be subtle about it. For all our sakes."
"Oh, I can be very discreet. You should know," he replied. People like Doom always wanted to know more than they had the right to. The fact that he scrubbed Doom's transmitter must be pissing the man off.
"And how can you be sure that the same technique that ruined all the rest of Stark's technology won't reveal you?" Doom asked, not taking the bait.
"Tony kept all this separate from his mainframes; he designed the stealth so that even he couldn't find it," Rhodes answered.
"Foolish, but it has worked it our favour."
Rhodes wanted to say: You think that because you're a misanthropic fascist with delusions of grandeur, but he decided against it.
"I'll be there," was all the he said instead before cutting the link.
"Thanks for staying late, Bev."
"No problem," Carol answered, putting the last few items on the grocery store shelf.
"Are you sure you'll make it home on time? The curfew is in 20 minutes." replied Ken. He was the evening shift manager, and always seemed protective of the employees at his store. Now that the Skrulls were in power, he had only become more worried about whether they made it home, or had escorts to their cars, or the like. The world seemed to have turned upside down, but Ken tried to make it better in the small corner he had some power over.
"You don't have to worry about me, old timer. Though thanks," she answered, flashing a kindly smile to the older man. If only he knew that she could tear this building from its foundations and toss it into the sun.
"Alright then. You just be careful." Ken said, throwing up his hands in jesting surrender.
Carol smiled as she threw on her jacket. It was always the actions of the little heroes in the world that brought a smile to her face. Decent folks, just trying to make the world a little better where they could.
As she left the grocery store, she pulled the toque low onto her head. While the cold was no threat to her, the less recognizable she was, the better.
She hurried back to her apartment; a gift from the apparently not deceased Nick Fury. He had reappeared during the battle for New York, and even survived it. When it was clear that they had lost, he left and went deep into hiding. She hoped he was working on…whatever a master spy does when he wants to save the world.
Before Fury disappeared, he set Carol up with a new identity and apartment, taking advantage of the chaos caused by the alien invasion. Since then 'Beverly Henderson' had been living a quiet life, working part time a local grocery store.
The Skrulls had taken over the Earth 6 months ago, and it had been around two months since she and her cell assassinated that alien commander. Unsurprisingly, the news was plastered with stories about 'terrorists' and they took every chance to point out the deaths of the Mayor and his aide.
Still, they managed to escape, even Anole. It took him a few days to slowly make his way back after hiding in some wetlands to heal his wounds. They had been laying fairly low for the past few weeks, though other cells were keeping up their activities.
As she walked down the block, she considered the many changes the city had gone through since the Skrulls took control of the planet. A fair number of the rich neighbourhoods had been evicted of humans, and the mansions went to Skrull families. In the affluent parts of city Skrulls walked openly, and conducted their business, mingling with the local populations, who seemed to grow more accustomed to them. Even at the grocery store, Carol had helped bag up their groceries.
Skrull hover craft regularly criss-crossed through the air, and several of the skyscrapers had alien structures grafted on to them. Throughout the city, groups of Skrulls, usually twos or fours, would patrol and keep peace.
The most unsettling part was the replacement of the super heroes with Super-Skrulls. Carol had witnessed an escaping mugger get apprehended by an alien conglomeration of Spider Man, Vulture and Rhino. The alien even returned the old lady's purse, before swinging away saying "Just your friendly neighbourhood Super-Skrull!"
She couldn't make heads or tails of it.
The aliens were obviously conducting some sort of 'hearts and minds' campaign, but to what end? She thought back to the broadcast the invaders had opened with, something she thought was obvious propaganda, but seemed to be in alignment with their seemingly benevolent actions after the invasion. Crime was virtually nonexistent in the city now and the aliens had conducted heavy handed raids on gangs and groups such as the Hand. Wilson Fisk was rotting in the some Skrull prison right now.
Overseas, various wars had been put to an end; ceasefires were enforced by alien battle cruisers watchful hovering over conflict zones and violations were dealt with by precise laser cannon fire. Roving Super-Skulls deftly patrolled between fronts, making sure none violated no-mans-land. All the while, aliens brought leaders of fighting groups together to hammer out conditions for peace. Even the cartels across the border were being brought to heel.
She walked through the drifting snowflakes, her thoughts swirling around her head in the same way. Everything she knew about the Skrulls told her they were imperialistic conquerors, but when she examined the results of their actions, she had to admit that they had fixed some intractable problems. She was so deep in thought that she nearly ran straight into a Skrull coming around the corner.
"Human! There is a curfew in effect," the alien said through a guttural accent. Carol realized there were two of them as his partner came around the corner. They were both tall and well-muscled, wearing the purple and black uniforms of the alien military. Pistols and energy batons hung on both their hips.
"Umm, yeah, I got stuck late at work-" she replied, pointing back behind her. She was trying very hard to appear meek as she regained some composure. "-at the grocery store down the street," she continued, as she clasped her hands behind her.
She could easily vaporize these two grunts with her photon blasts, but who knows who else was watching? Even if no-one saw, a disappeared patrol would certainly bring down some sort of response. A response that could reveal her.
"Identification," ordered the alien, as he held out a hand.
She dug into her pocket for the demanded I.D. When the Skrulls took over, they issued a new holographic card to every human. Carol happened to get hers from Nick Fury, one final gift before he disappeared into the shadows to conduct his own war on the Skrull Empire.
"Where is your domicile, human?"
"About a block and half that way," she answered quietly, pointing the way. She really hoped that the meek human thing was working, as it could get complicated if she had to blast a hole into this guy.
"Hurry on then, and ensure you are not out late again. Others may not be as forgiving," the Skrull curtly answered.
She thanked them, and quickly made her way to her apartment
Again, she felt conflicted. She had no love for being under the alien's boot, but she couldn't help but reflect about her own country's time in the Middle East. Would an American soldier act any differently to a local civilian?
Carol pulled out a chair and slumped over the table, rubbing her face with one hand. She heard a soft chime from the nearby drawer but didn't really register it. On the second chime she snapped to alertness, realizing it was Doom's communicator. A string of coordinates and a timing scrolled across the device, along with a simple message.
'PREPARE FOR MY ARRIVAL.'