Avenging Justice 3:

To Infinity and Anti-Life

Part XI

Earth, California, Avengers West Coast Campus

Han Pym watched on, longing. There on the news the Avenger's Quinjet roared towards the huge metal skull hanging in the air. She would be on it, Janet would be. He desperately wanted to be there. Just couldn't, the damage had been done by the suit. He'd found the issue, and it was only on the Ant-Man variant of the suit. Because he had designed the Wasp suit differently, he'd inadvertently fixed the issue.

There sitting behind him was the new Ant-Man suit, updated with the fix that would allow it to be safe. Well safe for those who didn't have the equivalent of a quantum air bubble in their heads. The next user would have all the abilities he loved, and wished desperately to experience again. He could almost feel the sensation of shrinking to ant size, leaping and running around on a level most would never know.

Sadness filled his mind, quickly replaced by horror as the Quinjet was hit by one of the skull drones. Then his heart leapt as he saw one drone seemingly jerk to a halt and explode. He didn't need to see the tiny flying woman that did it, he just knew it was Janet. It also meant the upgrades to her suit were working as well.

As much as he hated to admit it, working with Stark was productive. He'd never let that over inflated ego know, though. He watched again as more of the skull drones fell, this time the other Avengers were part of it. Hank smiled as he saw Captain America's shield fly out to bounce off four drones. Old man was showing off without meaning to. He just fought because it was the right thing to do, not for glory or accolades.

Hank Pym turned his attention back to the data on his computer screen. He really should be focusing on this, the Avengers could handle this. However, that was his Janet out there, and he wasn't there to watch her back. That hurt worse than knowing he'd never get to do what made him special anymore. That itself hurt beyond measure, like a deep wound to his soul.

Suddenly a red and blue blur crashed into the Skull ship, and moments later the drones all fell out of the sky. Well about an eight of them did, the rest returned back to the ship. Those two fill ins, at least that was how he viewed the S.H.I.E.L.D. substitute Superman wannabes, went into a frenzy to catch the falling drones.

Probably saving them for Fury, the warmonger he was. Just as soon as that thought flew through his mind, he bit back, putting his hands to his head. Fury while having blood in his ledger, only cared about keeping Earth safe, not waging a forever war. That other thought came from his condition, and with it came intense feelings of anger, frustration and envy.

"Dr. Pym, your heart rate has accelerated and I'm detecting heightened levels of adrenaline," the soft voice of Karen came through the room's speakers.

Stark's babysitter for him, and also a successful virtual intelligence. It didn't have true sentience, he still beat Tony to that. However, it could fool a good portion of the population. Anger, happiness, being flippant and sarcastic, this VI could do a very good approximation of those. She was no Vision though, which was a miracle in and of itself. Vision was a true artificial intelligence, but only combining the best of J.A.R.V.I.S. and the Ultron program.

He spoke calmly, "Thank you, Karen, but that won't be necessary."

"In that case, Dr. Pym, your visitor has arrived," the voice said. "I've got cameras recording him, so just say the word and I'll contact the others."

Hank shook his head in exasperation, "He's fine, just show him in."

A moment later, a very confused Scott Lang walked in. With all the machinery and gizmos running around, it was a veritable tech guy's paradise. Hank had a similar reaction, for all of five seconds. Then again, he'd been around it for far longer than this guy. Maybe he was just getting old, another thing to put on the list of things going wrong in his life.

"Mr. Lang, I believe you're curious as to why I asked you here," Hank turned relaxed. In the corner of his eye, the newscaster was advising of the recent success of the new "Superman."

Immediately Scott's pulse quickened, and Hank didn't need Karen to tell him that. He didn't even have to see the screen off to his left lower from the ceiling, or the images that came on it. The events were rather interesting, at least he had thought so when he'd viewed them. Apparently to the other man, they were like a loaded bomb.

There on the screen showed this very same lab, lit up and active. Then there was darkness, and the camera switched over to night vision mode. A combination of infrared and lowlight cameras caught a very spry figure sneaking through the lab. Seconds later the power was restored, but the new Ant-Man suit was gone. In it's place a simple notepad that read, "Need to borrow this, bring it back in two hours."

"Technically you brought it back in one hour fifty-eight minutes and fifty-seven seconds," Hank humorously said. "Give or take a millisecond, or at least Stark's V.I. keeps telling me."

Scott's visage told it all, even before he spoke, "So, I guess I'm going back to prison. Listen, I can make it up to you. I'm really a good…"

"I know about you," Hank cut him off. "Another benefit of having this position, S.H.I.E.I.L.D. already went through your history in a way that you'd feel violated about for the next three decades."

The other man looked caught between fear and anger, "What was that?"

Hank ignored him, "Let me tell you a story. Brilliant scientist wants to create a way of making the world better. Figures out a way to make things bigger or smaller, and then mobsters come trying to steal his tech. He has to give up his dream, so he tries another thing, but this one turns into a murderous killbot."

"That sounds bad, but what does this have to do with me?" Scott was already heading for the door.

Hank shrugged,d "It's locked till we're done with our talk. Now, this smart guy also finds out that what he loves doing, is slowly going to turn him into a monster. So, he has to stop.

Now there is this other guy, smart, talented, but a bit of assclown. Gets into trouble wife leaves him, and takes his daughter with her."

Scott turned and his fists clenched, "What was that?"

As if not hearing the questions Hank went on, "Gets out of prison, really that prosecutor at the time was just threw the book at you. He tries to pick up his life, finds out his ex-wife has remarried, and his young daughter is really sick. She's due to get surgery done, but something happens to the doctor. Then all of a sudden, Ant-Man makes the news, saving a local surgeon. Gee, Scott, I don't remember going out the other night, I would know."

Scott gauged the other man, seeking something in the manner, voice or even the posture, but finding nothing. He wasn't normally a fighter, he preferred getting in and out without being seen, and using his education for other things. However, he couldn't dispute right now, that he wanted to really deck this guy. However, he was also here instead of a police department interrogation room. So, that was at least a good thing.

"Look, I'm sorry, I had to save my little girl," he explained. "I brought the suit back."

Hank snorted, "I can see that! My question is why? Why did you return it, you could have used it to become nearly unstoppable? That is if you weren't an idiot and robbed the right places."

The other man, took a breath, "I told you, I had to save my daughter. Once she was safe, I didn't need it. I'm trying to be better than I was. Call the cops, the FBI, or whatever you need to do. Just don't hang this over my head."

Hank Pym smiled, "I think I'd rather offer you a job. See, the Avenger's are expanding, and they want another part of the team headquartered here. I, personally voted for Hawaii, but got turned down. That is beyond the point, though. I need people with your set of skills, both. See, I can't go out there and fight alongside my wife. I need someone I can trust, and who better than a man willing to go back to prison, to save his daughter? And then crazy enough to break back in and put back what he stole? That shows a lot about your character. Though between you and me, I'd keep a lid on that around Tony Stark."

"Wait, what?" Scott Lang was just grasping what those sentences had conveyed.

The original Ant-Man took it easy on him, "I want you to be the new Ant-Man."

Knowhere

The Shi'ar light cruiser was passing by the base used by the Guardians of the Galaxy, and rather disturbing looking. In the form of a giant severed head, species from all around the universe had come to inhabit it, making it their home. A macabre one nonetheless, but the inhabitants had become rather invested in it. Luckily for them, this ship's mission was only scouting.

The expansion would come soon, but right now the Empire had other issues ongoing. Between the other major powers, there had been the Lantern Wars, recently. According to intelligence the captain was privy to, the Green Lanterns had been challenged by another corps. This new corps was headed by one of their failed Green Lanterns, and with the war came a change in power.

Then there was the sudden silence of the Nova Corps, which was putting the Empire on edge. The Nova Corps were no easy foe to be vanquished, and with the Green Lanterns being tested, it was time for another to step in for stability's sake. The Shi'ar were more than happy to fill this role, and continue their natural expansion. For far too long, they had been held in place, only taking a few worlds in years instead of whole systems.

The patrol was going well, only one ship had been launched from Knowhere and the commander of this vessel wasn't worried. The computer had it listed as the Milano, the ship of the team known as the Guardians of the Galaxy. A grandiose title for a bunch of miscreants, he would have named them something more appropriate, like Loose Cannons. That fit their more chaotic nature, and he'd love to bring them in. Then again, he might be able to, if they did something foolish.

"Sir, we have something on the hull," one of the subordinates advised.

The commander of the ship looked at his screens, the Milano hadn't fired anything and there weren't any other indications of danger. However, the subordinate was right, something was on the hull and damaging it. What hadn't been caught yet, it also meant the Guardians were going to be an afterthought for the moment.

"Send teams out, prepare to repel boarders," the Commander of the Ship yelled. "Communications, tell the Guardians to keep their distance or we will fire upon them."

Blaring klaxons burst throughout the ship, indicating a hull breach. Safety systems engaged and cut off those portions of the ship. His people were already responding, and he made a note to increase drills, as they were a tenth of a second slower than he wanted. Being out here, you needed to be on your best game, perform at your best, or space would kill you.

"Sir, we've got reports coming in, something is down there taking our people out," came the cry from another officer.

He clicked over, but still didn't see anything. Then came the black shape, with the skeletal outline and the uncanny slack jaw of a long dead body brought back to life. It was impossible, should be impossible, but what power could make living beings look so dead? Where they cyborgs? The sensors were being interfered with, leaving him along with his questions.

"Lock down the ship, everyone to your battle stations," the Commander called out. "We are under attack."

A communications frequency opened up, one of the crew from the lower decks was attempting to contact the bridge. Just as the line of communication opened, there was a horrid scream and the sound of hissing, clanking and the squishy, wet sound of decomposing bodies. They didn't realize that was what the sound was, just that the squelching sound that sent shivers down the spines of all who heard it.

"Update!" the Commander called out, his voice still stead, despite the tremor he felt in it.

One of the subordinates called back, "We've lost most of the decks. We've got movement outside, but sensors aren't registering any being out there."

"Just give me an image," the Commander shot back. "We'll deal with the damn sensors later."

The crewmember nodded, and went to work. Soon the commander's order was done, and it was then that he wished he had reconsidered. There, tearing his people and ship apart, were what could only be nicely called corpses, moving and attacking. All in various states of decay, decomposition and from several different peoples across the known universe. They were ripping, biting, and he swore he saw a few rip the hearts out of his crew.

He couldn't let this continue, couldn't let them get off the ship. It didn't occur to him to ask how they had gotten on his ship. Nor did he even connect the hull damage to the incursion, by that time his mind had gone past to the final order he'd ever give. He had to stop them here, and they couldn't continue towards the Empire.

"Start the self-destruct," he calmly said, thought his heart was pounding. "Send this data to the Guardians, tell them to spread it. Make sure this get's back to the Empire, highest priority." Then taking a moment to look at their startled expressions, "It has been an honor serving alongside you. We protect the Empire, and we will end this threat here and now."

Moments later the ship exploded. The Milano was already racing back to Knowhere. The images coming back were enough to pull Star-Lord's attention away from the flying. This was very much to Rocket's pleasure, as he took over. However, when Quill didn't respond to the normal jabs at his piloting skill, even the modified racoon had to see what the matter was.

Even to him, this was horrendous. Rocket pulled back the throttle, and opened the channel, expecting Star-Lord to ask for it. He uploaded the data and began to send it over. The inhabitants of Knowhere would be made aware, but it would be too late. Already dark shapes were starting to surround both the station and the Milano. Horror, it was horror that was coming to their little corner of the universe.

"We're going to help them evacuate," Star-Lord said. "Get us in there and we'll take as many as we can."

"What about those things on our hull? Did you miss them meat for brains?" Rocket shot back.

Groot answered, "I am Groot."

"The tree is right, we will remove them," Drax said without any hint of the enormity of that particular statement.

Gamora shook her head, "They just took out a Shi'ar light cruiser, we need to retreat. As much as I hate to say that."

"No, we're saving people," Star-Lord said. "Rocket, find a way to help Drax and Groot get those things off my ship. Gamora, get any survivors we can onto the Milano. Any ships leaving Knowhere?"

Rocket looked at his screen, "Yes, the rich and powerful are leaving on their yachts, not even full, might I add."

"Not all it seems, I see several yachts still pulling people on," Gamora came back, with a slight hint of surprise in her voice. "What are they doing?"

"Being good people, alright team, let's keep these things off them first," Star-Lord said. "We know our jobs, let's get to work."