Chapter 11: The Panther King
James thought that his Quinjet was much more alike to the X-men's mode of transportation than to the Avengers'. It had the same sleek black frame, cabin seating, and back wings as his own. In fact, it was practically a prototype of his Quinjet. Judging by the way Tony seemed to be analyzing the ship's mechanics and structure, it probably was.
It was amazing how many people had managed to fit into the interior space. Cyclopes and Hawkeye were in the pilot seats, with Wolverine leaning in between them. Ororo, Natasha, Steve, Tony, Peter, and Emma Frost were conversing quietly in the forward seats, just behind them. Nearer to the back, James and Francis awkwardly chatted with Bobby Drake and Kitty Pryde. Iceman seemed to be just as uncomfortable as the other boys, but Shadowcat was taking their nervousness in stride.
James felt an immense sense of relief when Hawkeye announced that they were approaching Wakandian airspace. He relaxed as the plane began to descend, neatly touching down as the boarding platform opened. James stepped outside onto damp, muddy ground as heat flooded over him.
His gaze was met with vast, untamed jungle, its ancient trees rising high above his head. Luscious foliage spread out everywhere, from the massive ferns hopping in front of his legs to the giant tree leaves that blocked out the sky above. Noises emerged from the undergrowth; everything from light birdsong to distant roars crafted by creatures he could only guess at. How the jet had managed to land in all of this, he'd never know. It took a far more skilled pilot than he was.
Ororo informed them that they'd have to approach the city itself on foot. Even though the hierarchy was expecting them and technology was slowly integrating its way into Wakandian society, landing an entire jet anywhere near the city itself would most likely cause mass terror within the populace.
As the group made their way through the trees, James began pulling away from the main party as he shoved his way through the dense undergrowth. Francis, however, refused to fall behind. He moved swiftly to fall in step beside his companion.
"What's the plan?" Asked the white-haired boy softly, so as not to alert the others to their conversation.
"What do you mean?" Replied James nonchalantly, knowing exactly what the young archer was getting at, but none-the-less declining to comment on it.
"Don't pull that crap with me," growled Hawkeye. "You and I both know exactly what I mean. This whole thing's got a giant gaping hole in it that could fit all of freaking Narnia in it. I don't know what you've cooked up to get around it, but I want to hear it."
James was silent as he trekked through the trees, trying to think of a response to the white-haired boy's question. Eventually, he sighed. "I honestly don't know. There's only one plan I can think of that'll work, but it comes with its own problems. I've been trying to work something else out, but it hasn't been easy. Any suggestions?"
"I've got nothing," replied the boy with a shrug. "This is your forte, not mine. But you better think of something quick. We're already here."
The party emerged from the tree line to be greeted by a massive sandstone wall, rising high above them. Interspaced at regular intervals were giant panther carvings, growling ferociously. Directly in front of them was an unadorned, giant golden gate which sat open, a small party of Wakandians standing quietly in its shadow.
When the group approached, a tall man in simple robes stepped forward and bowed deeply to them. "My Lady Ororo and her guests, the king is expecting you. I'm afraid, however, that you must remove your weapons and equipment here. We can not allow you to enter the city so armed, much less the royal palace."
The group sounded their general agreement by stripping themselves of any gear that could potentially be dangerous. No one seemed to mind much that most of them were living weapons.
When they finished, the man nodded in satisfaction. "Thank you. Please, follow me." With that, he turned and began making his way through the stone streets, leaving everyone with no choice but to follow.
Even though James was so preoccupied with his thoughts, he still managed to marvel at the sight of the city. It was far from the soaring towers and hardened steel that he'd grown accustomed to in his time, but there was still a natural beauty to it. Stone walls rose up, covered in breath taking carvings that reflected the nation's cultured past. Beautiful fountains burst forth with water, shimmering like brilliant sapphires. People crowded the streets, trying to get a glimpse of the ever-rare visitors. All of them wore a variety of clothing in every color and every shade that James had ever heard of.
Eventually, all of that faded as they approached the palace. It stood like a domed beacon of onyx and gold, with the nation's familiar symbol sanding as giant guards on either side of the great golden doors leading inside. The doors themselves were carved with panthers dancing and chasing prey across the great African plains. Compared to the city as a hole, the palace was vastly unadorned, but it still had an aura of power and beauty that needed no accent.
Their guide led them through long hallways and winding corridors until they reached a familiar set of onyx doors that James knew led into the king's throne room.
"Please wait here. The king will call for you when he is ready to see you," the guide said as he vanished around a corner.
The adults immediantly began speaking to each other, but James found himself pulling back, his thoughts frantically trying to piece something together, but it was no use. Too many things were dancing around in his mind. How could he convince T'Challa to help them? How could he and Francis get back? What should he do about his parents?
And above all, What was the Black Skull really planning?
If his previous encounters with the Skull had told him anything, it was that the man had plans within plans. All evidence pointed to him trying to create an army of Ultrons, but James couldn't help but feel like there was even more to it than that. Maybe it had something to do with his conversation with the Skull before.
"The earth is merely meant to complete a collection... By using it to destroy that which is known by all to be th most powerful."
The Skull wasn't too concerned with taking over the earth, but he did have some kind of target. He was planning on using Ultron to make an example, but of what? And was that all that he had planned? And then there was his powers. He could plot the course of every one of James's shots, and meet the boy blow for blow in a fist-fight, despite the super soldier serum flowing through his veins.
I was wrong, thought James suddenly. The question I need to ask isn't what is the Skull planning. That only answers one thing. If I'm going to get all the answers, I have something else I need to ask.
Who is the Black Skull?
"Penny for your thoughts?" said a voice suddenly. James blinked before looking up to see the red and blue form of Spider-man standing in front of him.
The redhead quickly pushed his musings to the side, knowing he couldn't reveal them to the man. "Uh, I was just thinking about something. Nothing to do with you."
James could practically feel the man raising an eyebrow beneath his mask, but Peter didn't comment. The Avengers had learned by now that the boys would keep their secrets. "Anything I can help with?"
James hesitated, before thinking about how he couldn't come up with an alternate solution to his earlier problem. He came to a decision.
"What if you could do something that could help, but you know that it's a bad idea that could cause all kinds of problems for people? Would you still do it?"
The hero paused, thinking. "Well, I suppose that all depends on what kind of help it was doing, what kind of problems it was cause, and whether or not you'd be willing to take responsibility for those problems."
"What if it could save the world, but cause life-shattering problems for the people you care about, and then taking responsibility means that they could hate you for the rest of their lives?"
Peter paused, digesting the information and taking a moment to think of a response. "Do you have people you care about back home?" He asked suddenly, making James blink.
James's mind shot to his family; Toruun and Francis and Tony and everyone else waiting for him. "Yes," he said simply.
"I do too. I also have a lot of people that I loved who I've lost, like my uncle and my girlfriend. Every time I think of something like whatever it is that you're thinking of now, I think about what would happen if I went home and they were all waiting for me. How could I ever look them in the eye and tell them that I didn't do everything in my power to help people, even after they'd given everything believing that I would? And how could something like my public image ever possibly justify it? The answer is simple: I couldn't. So I give it my all every day, and if people don't like that then it's because they've never had to wear a mask."
James opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn't think of anything to say to that. Fortunately, he didn't have to, as it was then that the doors to the throne room grinded open.
He quickly joined the others as they began filing into the throne room, trying not to meet the arachnid's eyes. The hall had changed little over the years; it was still lined with giant panther statues and burning braziers. Even the guard panthers resting quietly at the foot of the throne looked the same as the ones in James's time. In fact, only two things had changed between now and when Laura and Azari had entered. The first was the fact that the hall was filled with people dressed in robes and sashes in every color under the sun.
The second was the man resting calmly on the throne. Silken fabrics wrapped lightly around his form in a toga, leaving his right pectoral exposed. A golden crown was posed lightly on his head, shimmering in the burning light to reveal his status. Brown eyes gazed quietly at the group as they approached the dais, a soft smile ghosting across his lips as his gaze passed over Storm. Every part of T'Challa, the king of Wakanda, spoke of strength, wisdom, and grace.
When they'd all gathered, he spoke, his deep voice rippling to all corners of the room. "Welcome, my friends. What brings you to my home this day?"
Tony stepped forward, his most charming smile on his face. "Thank you, your Highness. We've come here today to ask for your help. You see, recently a man has started running around causing all sorts of trouble. We believe that he may be planning something even worse than anything he's done so far. He's stolen the schematics for an immensely powerful weapon and we think he plans use to take over the world. The only component that he's still missing is a power source. We think that he wants to use a vibranium core to contain the energy. Seeing as Wakanda possesses the largest deposit of vibranium in the world, it makes sense that this will be his target."
T'Challa nodded in quiet understanding, a thoughtful look on his face. "There is sense in your words. Tell me more of this man."
"He calls himself 'the Black Skull'. He appeared out of nowhere a few days ago, along with these two boys here-" he gestured to James and Francis. "-who've since proven that they're here to help, though they still have a lot of secrets. The schematics are for a machine called 'Ultron' which possesses the potential power to conquer the planet, and we suspect that he might have an energy source of world-shattering power."
"If he has this energy source, what use does he have for our vibranium deposits?" inquired one of the aides near the throne.
"It's a base," replied Spider-man. "It'll be used to store the energy from the power source and power the machine. Without it, the power source is pretty much useless. We think that he'll attack the city in order to get the vibranium. Seeing as armies are pretty cheap in Africa these days, we don't think that he'll be alone."
The king nodded solemnly. James held his breath, knowing what was coming next. It was the exact issue that he'd been concerned about all this time.
"I understand what you're saying," said T'Challa. "However, I must ask that you present proof of your claims. If you sought help from me alone, I'd lend my support without a moments hesitation. However, you are asking me to provide Wakanda's resources as a nation. If what you are saying is true, then I'd need to mobilize Wakanda's entire military in order to protect the vibranium mines, as well as provide you with lodging within the city itself to assist you in apprehending this man, something which goes beyond the nation's ancient customs. I can't allow these things without sufficient evidence in support of your claims. What proof do you have that this 'Black Skull' is as dangerous as you claim? Is there any evidence to show that he will target Wakanda or is this all merely speculation on your part?"
Tony nodded. "I understand. The answer to your first question is yes, we do. I have an obliterated facility to stand testament to that. The other is more... difficult. No, we don't have any concrete evidence to show that Wakanda is his next target, but our reasoning is sound."
T'Challa nodded in agreement, but the disappointed expression on his face told them his answer. "I see. If you can't present the necessary evidence, then I can't agree to your request. I will increase patrols, and double the watch on the mines and refineries, but beyond that, there is little I can do. You must return to your home and continue your pursuit of the Skull on your own. I am truly sorry."
James could tell by the look on his face that he truly meant it, even as he gestured to the guards to escort the group out. The boy felt his heartbeat quicken as he glanced in the direction of Spider-man, thinking hard on his words. How could he face the others if he didn't give it his all to help others? Isn't that what the Avengers were supposed to do? Wasn't that his entire purpose in life?
He glanced over and met Francis's gaze. His companion had been watching him the entire time, his eyes searching. For what, James couldn't tell. Questions? Doubts? Answers? Whatever it was, the look in the white-haired boy's eyes gave nothing away.
James made a decision.
"Azari," he called, his voice echoing around the hall, making everyone freeze. Silence filled the air as James met the king's eyes. "It's a good name."
Confusion filled the man's eyes. "Yes, it is. It was my grandfather's name, Azzari the Wise. He was a great king."
"He was. That's why you want to name your son after him, someday."
Shock flashed across T'Challa's face. "How do you know that?" he asked breathlessly as he rose from his throne. Slowly, he began descending the steps, his eyes never leaving the calm gaze of James. "I have told no one of this, not even my beloved Ororo. How is it that you have come to know of this?"
He stopped, directly in front of the boy. Their gazes held as the silence stretched on. No one moved or spoke. Everyone standing in the hall of the Panther King knew that something was about to happen, something that would change the world. No one wanted to be the one to ruin that. Finally, James spoke, his words a whisper that echoed around the room.
"Because I know the boy."
The words were so simple, but the meaning behind them hit the listeners with more force than even Mjornir could muster. T'Challa stumbled back in shock, and maybe even a little fright. His eyes were riveted on James, a mixture of emotions blasting through them. His mouth opened and closed, no words managing to form.
"Who are you?" he finally mustered, his voice small.
James stood tall, and when he spoke, there was an iron confidence to them that was proof enough that his words were true.
"My name is James Rogers, but I've become known as Captain America."