Theme: What do you become when you're deprived of the very element that has never failed you?
Mars, finally. I did some heavy research to portray the planet as scientifically accurate as I possibly could. Any mistakes on my part, feel free to point out in the comments down below.
Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy it!
Trigger Words: Swear words. In several languages.
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
- Ozymandias; P. B. Shelley
August 17th, 2025 The Peak VII
Fury's Office
Astronauts often describe the awe of looking upon the Earth after they've finally escaped its atmosphere. The magnificence of a living planet impossibly married with the insignificance of their existence in the universe.
Isabelle wonders what it says about her when all she feels as she looks upon the blue-green marble suspended in the near-blackness of infinity is wrong wrong wrong. "Can you change the view," she asks, swallowing her nausea.
Nick Fury glances at her sidelong, then at the floor-to-ceiling length windows taking up the back wall. After a moment, he swipes at the holographic keyboard on his desk, and the glass flickers to a hyper-realistic projection of the DC skyline. "I don't have much time to bring you up to speed, Collins, so I suggest you pay attention - I won't repeat myself."
He pulls up some holograms of a barren landscape. "Desceado Crater, Promethei Planum," he says. "Colloquially known as the 'Bermuda Triangle' of Mars. Seven months ago, our scientists investigated strange gravitational anomalies in that area, and uncovered... this."
Amid a dusty landscape of red craters and dunes, there are tall, thin structures that seem to be poking out of a massive hole in the ground. They're not completely uncovered yet, but whatever is visible looks undeniably alien.
"We're calling them 'Protheans'. These ruins are ancient - our scientists estimate that they haven't been disturbed for 50,000 years. That's older than any alien civilization we've encountered so far, even Asgardians."
"The new element that Shuri discovered; it came from those ruins, didn't it?"
He nods. "Which leads to my current problem. Almost immediately after uncovering the ruins, Wakandan forces came into conflict with my people, claiming that their satellites had been the first to detect it. We were holding our own for a couple of months until they brought in the big guns - Princess Shuri."
He grimaces. "They booted all of my scientists, taking full advantage of the fact that we couldn't retaliate without risking Wakanda's ire, as long as the Princess remained on site."
Isabelle nods, the pieces of her incomplete puzzle finally falling into place. "She sent samples and tech to Wakanda. The S.P.E.A.R. scientists weren't happy that the Circle was being repurposed without due process, arranged a coup that went horribly sideways, courtesy of Erich Paine and his red sand."
She stares at Fury coolly. "Enter me and my propensity to 'make every mission personal'."
He shrugs unapologetically. "I needed to use your influence to send the Wakandans packing from my dig site. It wasn't urgent, so I let you hunt down your… motivation. I didn't expect you to latch onto Henry Lawson, though."
"In light of recent events, I think you'll agree I should be the last person to confront the Wakandans."
"Shuri's cut off from Earth in every way that counts." He pulls up another hologram - a satellite view of a turbulent mass of lightning-streaked clouds rolling over the crater. "Planet-circling, massive dust storms; occur every few years. Can last for months. Not particularly dangerous, but hell on both comm systems and satellites."
"Unfortunately, we ran out of time." He exhales heavily and presses his intercom. "Bring in our uninvited guest, Talos."
The door opens, and Isabelle feels a strange shiver run down her spine. Seconds crawl as she turns around to watch Talos walk in, until her eyes land on the very familiar, very hated face behind him.
Time snaps back like a rubber-band, and she only becomes aware that she's taken a few threatening steps forward when she feels the muzzle of an alien shotgun pressed against her chest. "What the hell is he doing here?" she snarls.
James Barnes holds her gaze easily.
"Back the hell up," Soren warns, fingers tight around her weapon. The clear hostility that Talos displays for Isabelle is condensed to wariness in his wife's eyes. "I mean it."
Isabelle's nails dig into her palms. She can taste the echo of the red sand on her tongue, and some distant part of her mind wonders whether she's addicted, even with only a brief exposure time. For the second time this evening, she curses the need for an inhibitor.
Fury's been silent so far, but she doesn't dare take her eyes off of her worst enemy. Barnes' gaze flicks over to the Director, and whatever he sees makes his eyes widen a fraction.
She understands a moment later.
"Желание (1.)," Fury murmurs in a low voice, coming round the desk, his eyes like black coals. "Ржавый. Семнадцать. Рассвет... (2.)"
She has never heard these words before, but with chilling certainty, she recognizes them anyway. Her palm sweeps out, fast as lightning. She shoves Soren out of the way and snatches the shotgun, pointing at Barnes' head before she can even think about it.
Talos is just as quick, his glowing baton aimed at her, scowling darkly.
Neither Barnes nor Fury seems to notice the tense stalemate hovering over the room like a Damocles sword. Fury continues the litany of trigger words, inching closer to his target. "Печь. Девять. Добросердечный. Возвращение на Родину. Один. Товарный вагон…солдат? (3.)"
Barnes hasn't so much as flinched, silent, and still. Her heart pounding in her ears, Isabelle moves to yank Fury aside - he's too close - but Talos' weapon glows ominously.
Finally, Barnes exhales slowly. "Хуй тебе (4.)," he mutters.
Isabelle knows just enough Russian to know those words don't mean 'ready to comply'.
Fury's mouth twitches. "Weapons down, Collins, Talos. Threat's neutralized."
Neither obeys. Isabelle is still in fight-or-flight mode; she suspects she has been since the Circle. Nick Fury's mortality has never been so obvious before.
The Director glances at her. "That wasn't a suggestion, Agent. Put. It. Down."
She hesitates for the longest time, her muscles taut with adrenaline, before finally lowering it with a grimace. Soren doesn't waste any time snatching her weapon back.
Talos stalks over, scowling hatefully, baton hot against her midriff. "I should throw you out the airlock for that," he growls.
"Hold off on that, Talos," Fury says sharply, retreating behind his desk. "I don't appreciate you assaulting my operatives, Collins. You pull that stunt again, you're going to spend an extended amount of time in the brig. Is that clear?"
Every part of her screams not to show Barnes her back. She compromises, turning her body sideways, so she can keep an eye on them both. "Clear, Director," she grits out.
He nods, turns his attention to the new arrival. "I'd say it's a pleasure to finally meet the real you, Barnes, but I'd be lying."
Barnes inclines his head. "I get that a lot. If it's any comfort, you're the only one to have ever survived the Winter Soldier."
Isabelle's stomach roils. "What is he doing here?"
Fury's gaze snaps between the two of them, but otherwise, his face is expressionless. "We intercepted his shuttle an hour before you arrived. Wakanda is concerned about the lack of communication with Mars. He's been updated on the situation and will be accompanying you to the surface."
She glares. "Him? Sam Wilson...!"
"... cooperates with S.H.I.E.L.D . Barnes here is a... mutual gesture of trust between S.P.E.A.R. and S.W.O.R.D. He's here as a liaison, nothing more."
He smiles thinly, leaning forward against his desk. "And as such, his privileges will be... extremely rationed. No weapons, a non-vibranium prosthetic, S.W.O.R.D.-designed hardsuit ... and a chaperone to make sure neither of you flies off the handle."
Barnes shrugs. "Fair enough."
Fury looks at him for a long moment, and they seem to come to some sort of a silent understanding. "Talos, Soren, escort Barnes to the armory, get him fitted."
Talos grumbles under his breath, glares at her, but does as he's told. The door slides shut behind them, but it doesn't make her feel any safer.
She suspects she won't feel safe until Barnes is off the station.
"His presence will help infiltrate the Wakandan outpost."
Isabelle doesn't answer, runs a trembling hand down her face. She doesn't have the strength to put up a front for Fury of all people - he's seen her at her very worst. But she's starting to wonder how she ends up vulnerable and exposed every time she steps onto the Peak.
As though he's reading her mind, he sighs. "Wasn't my idea, Collins."
She laughs - a short, bitter sound. "Does it matter? You got what you wanted - me, on a leash."
His face twists into something awful. "I wanted you by my side. Facing whatever's coming together."
She laughs again. "I've heard that one before."
We'll lose.
We'll do that together too.
"The promise of 'together' never ends well for me and mine."
"Barnes isn't Rogers, Isabelle."
"Cut the bullshit, Fury," she snaps, slamming her hands on the desk. The holograms flicker in response. "Barnes is a loose cannon that's tried to kill you. Twice. There's no way you're in any way happier about this."
His eyes flash, and he straightens, trench-coat billowing behind him. His shadow seems to lengthen, looming over her. "Right now, Collins, neither of us have the luxury of running away from things that make us unhappy. Barnes might be off the triggers, but I doubt they've cured him of his trauma. You're the face of his past - he'll be off his game, whatever that might be, as long as you're around."
"You're a sick son of a bitch."
"No, Collins. I'm a desperate son of a bitch."
Rambeau is in the same observation deck Isabelle had met her for the first time, staring unseeingly at the inactive holo-projector which had once displayed the Gagarin Station. The windows are shuttered, but instead of relieved, all she's sensing is abandoned.
"You'd already seen the Cro-Magnon footage before, hadn't you?" Isabelle doesn't bother with a greeting. "That's how you caught onto the stenography - because it hadn't been there in the original."
"The Protheans left a lot of visual documentation, detailing their visits to Earth," Rambeau confirms. "We managed to download some data before the Wakandans occupied the site."
Isabelle nods and turns to leave, disinterested in further conversation.
"Collins," the low voice calls over. "I'm sorry about the stunt I pulled. I know I should've just asked, but sometimes…" she sighs. "Sometimes I listen to the chief much more than he deserves to be listened to."
She's not good with apologies - issue or reception. "I'm... not usually one to blame the messenger," Isabelle finally offers. "Fury's never been able to accept the truth - there are no more Avengers here to manipulate into saving the day."
"He doesn't know how to do it any other way."
Truer words. Fury truly doesn't know how to not mold people into the shapes he desires - an assassin, a savior, a martyr. If he could, he'd do it to the entire world. Thanos had just fueled the ever-present paranoia inside him. "Do you believe him?"
Rambeau doesn't ask her to elaborate. She hesitates for a long moment, before gesturing at the platform. Isabelle's breath catches as the shutters shift, exposing that terrifying infinity.
"Methuselah," Rambeau says apropos of nothing, pointing vaguely. Isabelle is careful not to look over. "Right there - about 200 light-years away - the oldest star in the universe."
"Collapsed prematurely into a red giant over the past couple hundred years - which it shouldn't have done for billions more. It's not the only one; there are so many, across the night sky." She looks deeply troubled. "The stars are going out, Collins. The universe is getting darker, colder."
There's silence.
"Every cell in my body is capable of this," she raises a hand, casually turning it invisible. "No one understands light better than I do. I am light -," her fingers flicker to visibility, having curled into a tight fist, " - now imagine Earth starting to desiccate without explanation."
Isabelle shivers despite herself. "You think that's what Fury's on about?"
She shrugs. "One thing I learned during the Decimation - it's all connected. "
Sol 202 {Earth Date: August 17th, 2025} Research Center
Prothean Ruins, Mars
It's not an uncommon sight to find Princess Shuri engaged in a rousing argument with her chosen collaborator in all things science - one Bruce Banner - while at the same time attempting to calibrate a massive alien device responsible for sudden and violent gravitational outbursts in their immediate vicinity.
"I'm just saying," Bruce shouts, his mag-boots locking him firmly to the walkway as the world rocks around them like a ship caught in a storm. "The Protheans must've left more than a half-a-dozen dead spaceships and a malfunctioning eezo core!"
He gestures towards the glowing sphere that is even now emitting pulses at irregular intervals. "We've just scratched the surface of this place - imagine what we could find if we excavated further!"
"Imagine what we could find if we explored eezo further!" she counters, her fingers flying through the screens as she attempts to calibrate the core. "FTL travel, perhaps even more advances in medicine! It already bends most laws of science, Bruce - don't you want to know more?"
She risks a glance in his direction - his expression is torn. Of course, he wants to know - but he also has an unfortunate familiarity with extraterrestrial entities that break reality. She couldn't have imagined being afraid of discovering something new - if not for her disastrous experience with Vision.
Which is why she knows her next statement will win her the argument. "We will excavate further," she assures him, " - when the Circle gets here. I just don't want to risk... unleashing anything without backup, especially when we've already uncovered the cause of the anomalies."
As though prompted by her words, the orb pulses again, washing blue over the metallic panels lining the ancient spherical chamber. Shuri curses and resumes calibrating with haste. She adds in the final commands and watches as the fields slowly settle before dissipating, the world righting itself.
Bruce exhales heavily. "Well, that should hold up for a few days," he mutters. "Hopefully." Then, louder - "I'm heading to Birnin T'Chaka for the supply run. You need anything?"
Shuri shakes her head, says nothing as he hesitates, then exits the chamber wordlessly.
She slumps and gazes at the stable eezo core.
It's beautiful.
Vibranium would always be the mineral of her heart, but element zero, or eezo as she's coined it, comes a very close second.
But despite tinkering on the core for six months, she's made little progress in understanding the phenomenon. Her calibrations are a band-aid fix. There might be something to Bruce's theories on finding a permanent solution deeper in the ruins. But she also knows his true reasons for this argument that they seem to have on a weekly basis.
"You shouldn't let him speak to you like that," the aforementioned reason speaks from behind her.
Shuri sighs and turns. "He wasn't rude, Akili. He's never rude."
"It's still not his place to be impertinent," the leader of the Hatut Zeraze says, eyes narrowed. His too-white uniform is giving her a headache.
She rubs at her forehead. Akili does not make it easy to reign in her temper. "Have you heard anything from the Circle yet?" It's an obvious attempt at distraction, but she's genuinely worried - the Circle should've been here a week ago.
Akili's expression pinches. "The storm's blocking our communications." He folds his massive arms across his chest. "You're too trusting of anyone who can speak science to you, Your Highness, even if they're rutuku..."
She jabs a finger at his chest. "Do not call him that!" she says fiercely. "You overstep your bounds, Akili. Yours is not to tell me what to do, or whom I should speak to."
"I am loyal to the throne of Wakanda, Your Highness."
She bristles at the implication. "And I am loyal to Wakanda itself, not just those who would seek to rule it in my brother's stead. I'd suggest you remember that Bruce Banner obeys our laws, despite not being Wakandan... and despite not needing to ."
Akili stiffens at the reminder of the threat he believes to be real. Bruce could eject them all from the ruins without breaking a sweat. But she knows he won't.
It'd been the main reason why she'd insisted on bringing him with her to Mars, despite the vocal disapproval of the Tribal Council and the War Dogs. Unfortunately, her brilliant act of rebellion had backfired on Bruce himself. Akili opens his mouth to retort, but is interrupted by his short-range comm unit buzzing frantically. Frowning, he taps at his Kimoyo Beads, manifesting a hologram.
Against the now near-silent murmur of the eezo core, the sounds of yelling and the discharge of firearms echo loudly. They both flinch.
"...code red, code red; we have a breach!" a War Dogs screams into the flickering hologram, eyes wide. "I repeat, we have a breach! "
Shuri does a double-take, certain she's misheard. An invasion isn't possible, not here, not with the only entrance heavily guarded by some of the most overzealous warriors Wakanda had to offer.
"Breach came from below! " The War Dog yells, then ducks beneath cover and fires off a few shots. "Multiple points of entry! "
Shuri's chest tightens. 'Below' is everything they haven't explored yet; it's not even completely mapped. The War Dogs had deemed it too dangerous after losing two of their own to the depths.
Akili is on the same wavelength. "How many?!"
"Unknown! Under heavy fire! " The War Dog is breathing heavily; an anomaly in Wakandan warriors - there aren't many threats that can make them sweat.
At least, not before Thanos, Shuri reminds herself.
On the holo, bright white light emerges from somewhere, and the War Dog peeks out of cover, his eyes widening at whatever he finds. "Threat possesses heavy weapons! " He screams. "We're being overwhelmed!"
"I repeat, we are being over..."
The holo flickers to oblivion.
Sol 1 [Earth Date: August 17th, 2025] Birnin T'Chaka
Mars
Navigating a space shuttle through a zero-visibility storm with fluctuating nav-systems is just begging for a violent encounter with a cliff. But Monica Rambeau subverts all expectations, even managing to safely guide it into the airlock of a blue dome-shield surrounding the outpost of Birnin T'Chaka.
Isabelle would've been impressed if she wasn't hyper-focused on reconciling with the near absence of water on the planet. There's ice somewhere down south, her straining, aching Inhuman senses tell her, but the approach is blocked by thousands of miles of bare, dry dunes and deep craters.
She should've probably continued to wear the inhibitor.
Her first steps on Mars are... unsettling. Dust cakes the exterior of the shuttle, having invaded every crevice it could find. The dry heat beats down relentlessly. A scanner runs over them - the sand on their armor trembles for a second before falling to the floor in a heap. The airlock hatch hisses open, declaring them clear of all contamination.
"Let me do the talking," Barnes murmurs as they take off their helmets. The air feels stale - life support is working fine, but the odor filtration systems must be taking a beating from the storm. "The Mayor's a member of the Hatut Zeraze - they're notoriously conservative."
Code for 'refusing to relinquish their prejudice against outsiders in an attempt to revert their country to an isolationist monarchy'. Small wonder the man practically exiled himself to a desolate planet ASAP when Wakanda opened its borders only to become ground zero for a massive war.
Isabelle would've let Barnes do the heavy lifting if not for the fact that her eyes are arrested by the sight of a familiar, towering figure having a tense conversation with the aforementioned Mayor.
She takes a few, stumbling steps forward, stunned until a pair of vibrant green eyes she couldn't have imagined in this particular setting meet hers.
"Bruce? "
"Thanks for the heads-up, Banner," she says once they've stumbled through the initial whammy. Barnes is attempting to explain their presence to the Mayor, while Rambeau is...
Nowhere to be seen.
Probably skulking around the place, invisible.
"Sorry - wasn't allowed to talk about it," Bruce says. "They shackled me in confidentiality agreements as soon as I stepped foot into Wakanda."
The last time she'd seen Bruce - during the reappearance of the Ghost Rider - he had mentioned being called to Wakanda for a 'consultation'. With everything that had happened, it'd completely slipped her mind, but in hindsight, the notion is brilliantly simple - who else were they going to call to examine ancient, alien artifacts on another planet?
Bruce knows how to keep secrets better than anyone.
"Shuri invited me aboard," he admits, looking almost glad to do so. "They ousted the Lowell scientists almost as soon as we got here. Couldn't do a damn thing but watch." He takes a deep breath. "Things have been tense around here, Izzy - I'm glad you're here."
"You won't be after you hear whose orders I'm following." And she tells him.
Bruce's skin loses some of the green. She knows what he's thinking - any time the two of them are pulled into uncovering ground-breaking alien technology by Nick Fury, it never ends well.
She takes stock of the surroundings. Birnin T'Chaka is disconcertingly minimalist for a Wakandan site, with just enough cultural influences to distinguish it from any other settlement. A roiling wall of vermilion presses against the blue dome-shield, obscuring what would've otherwise been a spectacular view.
Her briefing had highlighted that the dome doesn't have cloaking - unlike Wakanda, Birnin T'Chaka sees no benefit in hiding its presence. Quite the opposite.
Here, the shield - hell, the strategic position of the outpost itself, which allows them to control the only stable entrance to the Prothean ruins; a lone bridge across the canyon - is a statement.
The ruins belong to Wakanda, and Wakanda alone.
She's glad she wasn't there to see Fury go apoplectic at whichever agent had made that assessment.
A lone rover is parked at the exit airlock. A six-wheeled monstrosity, it's painted brown with orange highlights - Isabelle doesn't know whether the design was a deliberate choice or a gigantic miscalculation because literally, no one would see that coming.
"That yours?" she asks Bruce. "Nice ride. Looks like it's missing a little something, though."
He glances at it. "That's a VT-7. They used a turreted version to occupy the facility. Ripped them for my supply runs." He snorts. "As though I need a tank to smash."
"I'm guessing most of the Wakandans aren't fans of yours."
He nods, grimacing. "I've been trying to convince Shuri to dig deeper - thought that they'd be forced to call in outsiders if they had a lot of data to sift through - but no dice. The Hatut Zeraze isn't budging on the issue. There are days I don't know who's in charge of who."
Just then, Isabelle's awareness pings; Barnes is coming over, his expression wavering from stony to vexed. Her stomach clenches.
"Mayor's only gonna allow one of you past the checkpoint," he mutters.
Bruce rears back. "What? Why?"
"Because you're both Avengers. I convinced him you're practically useless here, without water," he nods at her. "But the Hulk can still smash."
"I don't need my powers to be dangerous," she says before she can stop herself.
The former assassin raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Shall I go tell him that then? Look, he's just trying to protect his people. This is an incredibly delicate situation, and we're cut off from Earth. I doubt Fury wants a war on his hands."
There's a silence as she grits her teeth, looks away.
"It's... fine," Bruce sighs, torn. "We won't all fit in the rover, anyway."
Her stomach sinks at the implication. "You just don't want to be there when it all goes down," she accuses, her tone only partially light-hearted as she activates her comms.
"Yeah, well, sue me. I spent more than a decade avoiding conflict - habit's hard to break."
Isabelle winces as static crackles in her ear. "Rambeau, you read me?"
"Barely," is the belated, slurred reply. She must be outside the dome; Isabelle can hear the storm howling in the background. " Let me guess; they're not letting us through."
"Access for only one of us, and I'm assuming Fury wants me on the case."
There's a sigh. "I'd anticipated being in the ruins before the situation went south. Though I've to admit; this works well for us. "
"Yeah, how's that?"
"I can dig up any potential leaks for our friend Henry Lawson in Lowell City. "
She moves until she's out of earshot. "Your chief isn't gonna be happy about that."
Rambeau scoffs. "That's what he gets for ordering me to babysit you. I'll take Banner with me; might dissuade any... disagreements. You gonna be okay? "
Isabelle feels Barnes' gaze heavy on the nape of her neck. "Guess we'll see."
Sol 202 {Earth Date: August 17th, 2025] Starship Hangar
Prothean Ruins
The marauders patrol in the dark; the overhead lights barely penetrate the gloom of the hangar, glinting dully off the matte-finished surface of the alien starships, which sit still on raised landing platforms. Forcefields powered by the eezo core enclose the tubular hatches above each one that leads directly to the surface.
With a roar, the War Dogs leap into the fray. Muzzle flashes splinter the darkness as assault rifles go off, the marauders aiming blindly. Shuri remains at a distance, firing off sonic blasts from her gauntlets.
She had refused to be sidelined from the fight; after all, she's the only one who truly understands how valuable these ruins are. And yet, this had still been one of the last places she'd expected the marauders to gather.
The hangar had been one of the first sections for the ruins to be uncovered by the Lowell scientists. The only artifacts of worth she'd found were crates of refined eezo, all of which had been transported deeper into her labs or had been sent off-world for further analysis by the Circle.
Shuri had examined the starships - each with depleted eezo cores, absent of anything even remotely resembling weapons and non-interactive interfaces. There's nothing of value within them, not after 50,000 years.
Then why are they here?
The answer comes to her just as one of the War Dogs shouts "Engineer! ". Her gaze snaps to a marauder crouching over a device, which unfurls into a tripod stand cradling a sphere.
It rises and hovers, spinning wildly. The quadrants detach themselves, revealing a glowing core. Something about it seems oddly familiar. Something shifts in the air and she aims her gauntlet, pausing only for a second... and that hesitation - brief as it was - costs her dearly.
A wave of energy unlike anything she's ever known erupts outwards from the sphere. It rolls over the entire hangar like a tsunami. Her skin tingles and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
Then the screaming starts.
She twists, ready to fire.
Her eyes fall on her gauntlets.
Her smoking, sparking, lifeless gauntlets.
Shuri's stomach sinks.
In the muzzle flash-lit haze of the hangar, the War Dogs fall in droves as the assault rifles shred through their armor. Their armor - with vibranium woven through every inch of it, protecting them, defending them from primitive weapons like guns.
A spray of gunfire almost catches her in the arm. Some of the marauders have caught sight of her. She ducks into cover, desperately trying to reactivate her weapons, because they have never, ever failed her - she had designed them; they couldn't fail her.
No response.
Impossible.
And yet, not.
"Fall back!" Akili's roar resounds through the hangar.
"Fall back!"
And as Shuri flees the hangar in a thunder of rapid footfalls, being chased by an enemy they'd underestimated, one question rings in her mind, over and over again.
What is a Wakandan without vibranium?
Sol 1 [Earth Date: August 17th, 2025] Promethei Planum
Mars
Contrary to her expectations, the rover is surprisingly roomy, but with no one to alleviate the hostility between herself and Barnes, it soon becomes a cramped affair.
Isabelle's activated the external cameras, even though the virtual display on the windscreen doesn't provide much in the way of a view. The dust storm has segued from a wall of brilliant vermilion to this deep brown that's just a few tones lighter than black.
Shuri had apparently anticipated a visibility problem, though, because before setting off, Barnes' fingers had flown across the dashboard. A hologram had sprung into being, superimposing wireframes of megastructures in the immediate vicinity - the bridge across the massive canyon, connecting the isolated regions of Birnin T'Chaka and the Prothean ruins, several angular hills to the north of Eos Chasma, and in contrast, a smooth topography to the south.
The maneuverability leaves much to be desired though, but since the bridge is pretty much a straight line, she can manage.
The silence inside is stifling. They're both wearing their helmets - a futile exercise in ignoring each other, because neither can forget the other's presence. They're a chemical mixture waiting to explode; they'd proved that much in their last encounter.
And there's very little she can do about it.
"Question for a question?"
"Sure," she shrugs, willing to pretend that something as banal as quid pro quo is going to maintain a modicum of civility between them. "You go first."
"Banner - did you know? That he was here?"
There's not a hint of accusation in his voice, but his words are similar enough to yet another conversation she'd heard in a virtual simulation of a revelation that had destroyed her world.
"Don't bullshit me, Rogers, did you know?"
"...Yes."
It's a strange mirror of that situation, she thinks, even though this is nowhere near that level of brutal. She feels an inappropriate and hysterical urge to laugh, which somehow overrides her general sense of hostility towards the man, forcing her to answer. "I didn't know. He mentioned a consultation in Wakanda, but no details. Why did T'Challa send you?"
"Because he wanted someone who was at the Circle to update Shuri."
A cold finger trails down Isabelle's spine. The storm outside resembles the mist of the red sand far too much for comfort; she finally understands the name. "That's not a good idea."
"Of course you'd think so," he snorts. "Marching to Fury's fife, looking for an abrupt, violent end to Wakanda's occupation of the ruins? Not happening on my watch."
"Your 'update' will ensure I won't even get a diplomatic way in!"
He shrugs. "Not my problem."
Rage is a temporary distraction, but hatred always burns slow and cold. "They don't know you're coming. Maybe they never will."
He laughs suddenly, sharp and cutting. "A rematch? Might be fair here 'n now. No water, no vibranium arm… no red sand."
Her heart picks up speed. She knows he can hear it. Through his visor, she can see his lip curling in detached amusement, his eyes as hard and cold as the Winter Soldier.
A harsh mechanical sound cuts through the thick anticipation.
The console's lit up with warning lights, beeps, and trills far too loud in what had moments ago been a pervading silence. She grabs onto the distraction with a mixture of relief and disappointment. "What's going on?"
Barnes zooms into the hologram, narrowing at a red, blinking point just a few meters ahead. "Sensors are detecting something up ahead..."
The world disappears in a flare of light and sound.
Something slams into the side of the rover, pitching it upward. It tumbles through the air, crashing through the roof of the bridge. Isabelle feels momentary weightlessness before gravity reasserts itself and the rover slams upside down onto the sheared edge of the bridge… only to immediately start backsliding.
Heading right for the mile-deep canyon waiting down below.
Isabelle shouts, fingers flying over the console, trying to get the vehicle back on track, back on the level part of the bridge. The hologram's whited out by the explosion - she has no idea where she's going; she only knows that she has to stop sliding.
But it's out of control, crashing through mangled metallic supports and beams. Her side of the dashboard dents inwards, and she yells as it pins her against her seat.
In the instant before the rover plunges, Barnes moves.
Almost too fast to comprehend, he unfastens his seat belt and throws himself out through the windshield.
Glass shatters inwards, ushering in a cloud of thick, red sand. She barely has time to gasp before a huge arm emerges out of the billowing dust, fingers hooking onto the dash.
The rover comes to an abrupt halt.
Isabelle stays frozen, her heart about to explode out of her chest. Terror crawls up her throat. Her life's still flashing through her eyes, washed out in an ocean of red that's deafening all of a sudden.
The rover sways.
"Collins! " Barnes' strained bark through her comms informs her he's been trying to catch her attention for a while.
"Still here," she says after a moment. Her voice is hoarse from screaming. "Barely."
He shudders out a breath. "I can't hold on much longer."
She blinks. Through the storm, she barely makes out his fist - metallic plates, non-vibranium - and it hits her then.
Barnes is holding up the rover with just one arm.
He'd thrown himself out of the rover in a last-ditch attempt to find leverage he couldn't see.
The bottom of the canyon seems uncomfortably close. "Okay," she says, trying to sound calm but failing utterly. "Okay. How's the grip on the other end?"
"Stable for now. Can you fly? "
She shakes her head, realizing belatedly that he wouldn't be able to see it. "Not enough water."
He grunts. "Then I'm going to need you to climb up my arm. "
The panic is stuck in her throat, choking her. "I can't do that, Barnes," she says thickly.
"Collins," he growls. "I know you don't trust me right now...! "
"I'm pinned to the seat," she interrupts him.
There's a silence.
"The dashboard caved in," she says because she doesn't want silence to be the last thing she hears. "I'm trapped. My armor..." she breaks off as the rover groans and sways.
She can see the faintest outline of the metallic arm through the storm. Or maybe she's imagining it because she's pretty sure Fury's engineers wouldn't have been thoughtless enough to paint in that red star.
"Find a way," he snarls. The dashboard bends beneath his grip. "I don't care how - just fucking find a way."
She takes a deep breath to clear her mind. Activating her omni-tool, she scans her surroundings, trying to find something, anything that she can use. Orange light washes over her seat, highlighting a mechanism beneath her seat. Her helmet's HUD brings up the schematics. "There's a parachute module here," she says, befuddled.
Barnes grunts an assent. "In case the rovers don't make atmospheric entry." A moment later, he catches on. "You can deploy it; eject the seat."
Isabelle doesn't waste any time. She copies the command transfer from the blinking console to her 'tool. Heart in her throat, she frees herself from the seat belt and hooks her arm with his. Barnes groans, the sound just this side of a muffled sob.
The rover creaks alarmingly.
Isabelle tenses, and that's all the warning she gives him before activating the deployment.
With a rush of decompressed air, the seat shoots out and smashes through the rear, the chute ballooning for a brief moment before disappearing into the storm. She yells as she finds herself hanging precariously from his arm. Unable to compensate for the sudden addition of her weight, his grip on the dashboard loosens.
The jagged remnants of windshield glass scrape deep marks against the front of her hardsuit as the rover falls into the canyon. Her grip slips, and for a moment, she feels that dreadful freefall again before his fingers grab onto hers.
Isabelle dangles there, metallic fingers squeezing hers painfully. With a strangled shout, he pulls her upwards until her other hand can grab for the leverage.
It's a metal beam, most of it sheared from the bridge - more stable than it should've been. Hardly one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Isabelle quickly climbs then reaches for Barnes.
By unspoken consent, they linger there only for a moment, her scanner sweeping to reveal a semi-stable platform amidst the wreck that is the bridge. Blindly, they scrabble upwards, the sound of their harsh breaths echoing through their comms, almost drowning out the haunting howl of the storm that beats against their armor as though enraged at them having dodged certain death.
They only stop once they're clear of the wreck, on the other side of a bridge that has been sheared in half. They drop to the metallic floor on trembling knees, crawling to opposite ends of the bridge.
She feels light-headed; her breaths rasping painfully through her chest. Her body is shivering uncontrollably, coming down from the terror far too slowly for comfort.
But finally, at what seems like an eternity later, her heart settles into a slightly-faster-than-normal beat, and her breaths even out as much as they're going to. She squints through the storm at Barnes, sprawled against the beams. Reluctant, horrified gratitude floods her veins, but refuses to cross the barrier of her lips. Instead, what comes out is a perplexed - "why?"
"I don't recommend death via falling into a canyon." He tries to sound offhand, but even through the comms, it comes across as faintly strangled.
She turns away, looks over at the other end of the bridge. Their only way back to the outpost, lost. "The hell was that?"
"IED, rigged with a proximity trigger," he says shortly.
She'd come to the conclusion herself but wanted a dissenting opinion nonetheless. At S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, she'd scored a barely passing grade in explosives. She'd wanted to stray from her father's legacy as a weapons manufacturer, and had deliberately sabotaged her assessment.
More than three decades of missions - a lot of them involving explosives - had made her re-examine that decision. "Who would do this?"
"I'm more concerned with the why than the who." Dust billows as he pushes himself up with a groan. "I don't think this was meant for us."
She stills. "Explain."
He nods to the bridge. "These are military-grade explosives; strong enough to take out a tank. But the rover is designed to survive the heat of re-entry, which is the only reason it didn't blow up." He turns to her. "No... I don't think we were the intended targets."
It hits with a cold understanding just who he's talking about. "Bruce… " she whispers, horror thick in her voice. She looks around at the wreck that they'd barely managed to escape with their lives. "This was meant for the Hulk. Wouldn't kill him, but…"
"It'll get him out of the picture," he says neutrally. "Hatut Zeraze or not; he'd be the first line of defense for the ruins, right? And by taking out the bridge…"
"They could ensure no reinforcements," she finishes his thought. "No one but Rambeau is insane enough to fly a shuttle in this storm. Killing two birds with one bomb. How did they get onto the bridge though? Isn't the whole point of Birnin T'Chaka to restrict access?"
Barnes shrugs. "They monitor any vehicles; but a small team could've slipped past their defenses, especially using the storm as a cover."
She looks ahead, through the storm, to where she estimates the ruins to be. If she's right, whoever had planted the explosives were there, along with Shuri and the Hatut Zeraze. "Hell of a walk, then."
He meets her eyes. "We'll find out soon enough."
MCU Context
The Winter Soldier's Trigger Words
1. Longing.
2. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak.
3. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight car... Soldier?
4. Go fuck yourself.
Comics Context
Akili
Akili is a member of the Hatut Zeraze, also known as the War Dogs. Spies and soldiers of Wakanda. In the comics, they're led by the White Wolf, who, in MCU, is none other than Bucky Barnes. I needed Barnes for something else, so I decided to use this guy as the leader instead.
He's also the War Dogs' representative to the Tribal Council of Elders I have alluded to in my earlier chapters. A little too loyal.
Rutuku
According to the Wakandan dictionary, it's a derogatory word for 'foreigner'.
Mass Effect Context
Prothean Facility
According to the codex provided in the Mass Effect series, The south polar region of
Promethei Planum on Mars developed a 'Bermuda Triangle' reputation when satellites started detecting intermittent mass concentrations and magnetic field shifts that I alluded to 'Things Fall Apart; the Center Cannot Hold'.
A prospecting team led by Mateus Silva began exploring near the Deseado Crater and found the source of these disturbances when they unearthed a subterranean Prothean ruin. The odd phenomena were generated by the operation and discharge of a mass effect core, struggling to function despite fifty millennia of neglect.
The ruins also contained several alien starships, as well as refined element zero (the new element that everyone's so hyped about). There were also vaults filled with data troves that haven't been explored yet.
For non-fans, all of this will be explained and explored in this and the next chapter.
Global Dust Storms
There are some really cool orbital images of Mars when the haze thrown up by massive dust storms become globally distributed. In Mass Effect 3, a storm kicked up while you were on Mars. Another one stranded Mark Watney in the Martian movie.
But apparently, even the wind in the largest dust storms aren't strong enough to damage rovers or other equipment, because there's hardly any atmospheric pressure up there. It's just hell to clean up, afterward.
Hardsuit
Basically a spacesuit and armor combined into one.
Birnin T'Chaka
In Mass Effect: Andromeda, there were small mining stations on an immensely hostile, barren moon, protected from the radiation by orange dome-shields. I'm using a similar concept here.
Concept arts of the Mars Prothean ruins show bridges/tram lines extending outward from the facility, like thin, long spokes. In my fic's canon, only one of them has been constructed in order to restrict access to the ruins.
M29 Grizzly/VT7
M29 "Grizzly" Infantry Fighting Vehicle (IFV) was called the 'battle taxi', used in a lot of planetary campaigns. Very heavy and bulky, even when stripped down to its civilian version, the VT7 rover (the one provided to Bruce).
I was super tickled while introducing this. In my fic, the Grizzlies were created by the Wakandans to explore Mars, able to fit six people, including the driver. All rovers and IFVs have external cameras, which can be switched on to provide virtual windows.