"Coup de Kree" Part 5 of 5: "Test of Spirit"

Undetected, Grieve steps into the palace trophy room. He gazes about the vast chamber, taking in the vast history of the Kree. Ceremonial robes of the various Kree tribes, back when the Kree were divided. The stuffed body of the Skrull Emperor who judged in the Cotati’s favor on Earth’s moon. A tattered, carefully preserved document of the first Pama/Sumor/Accumen Combine. Next to this, the peace treaty signaling the end of the Vell/Rogg War and the beginning of the Hell on Hala War.

War. It has taken up the whole of the Kree’s history and culture. Grieve chuckles. Go back far enough in history, and you will find that the Kree were not always known as the Kree. No, Grieve reflects as he looks up at a painting of a god, his people did not name themselves the Kree until the god-like Kee-Ree made himself known at the end of the Hell on Hala War, in which the Nine crushed the Combine to the verge of extinction.

Then was the first time the Kree truly evolved, culturally if not physically. This great capital of Kree-Lar was constructed, as was this palace, then named the Temple of Kee-Ree. A spiritual city, the Cult of Kee-Ree made their home here, in neutral territory from the other twelve tribes. The chieftain took the spiritual suffix of Ree to symbolize their loyalty to the god, and candidates for chieftain would battle at the Coliseum with the belief that Kee-Ree would help the true leader achieve victory.

Slowly, thanks to Kee-Ree’s influence, the Kree united. Perhaps, in his wisdom, Kee-Ree saw the coming of the Skrull, and the Kree’s warlike nature would lead to interstellar war. Divided, the conflict would have been short.

Whatever Kee-Ree’s reasons, the results were soon apparent. The twelve tribes formed the Council of the Ancients, with the High Priest of the Cult casting the thirteenth and deciding vote. While fighting was still occurring, it was rare and scattered. As impossible as many had believed, the Kree were on their way to unity and peace.

Grieve steps in front of a mural surrounded by trophy cases. Looking at the massive image on the wall, at the hordes of Kree slaughtering one another, a single tear falls from Grieve’s right eye.

Kee-Ree had abandoned them. With magic failing, many of the tribes began to develop technology. The kraft, the ancient weapon and way of fighting that was developed and taught by Kee-Ree, was abandoned for guns and canons of mass destruction. Eventually, a hatred was developed towards the god that had left them, and towards those that still believed and prayed. The Cult of Ki-Ree was hunted, as were those that still followed the way of the kraft.

However, as Grieve looks on at the ceremonial garb of the first Emperor, he thinks of Ki-Ree. Born of a Priest of Kee-Ree, Ki-Ree was raised by the Cult as a foretold deliverer of unity. When the Cult of Kee-Ree, the Kree themselves, were threatened, Ki-Ree displayed a magical ability unseen years, and led the Cult into hiding. Slowly, he gathered all the remained of the Cult, as well as those that still practiced magic and the way of the kraft. Eager to prove the superiority of magic and the perfect weapon, Ki-Ree declared the return of the Pama/Sumor/Accumen Combine, and made war against the infidels.

Grieve remembers the Unity War fondly. Ki-Ree had succeeded, eventually united the shattered tribes and limiting the use of technology. By the time Ki-Ree’s power weakened so that his shaky reign ended, the Kree were too set in the ways of unity to shatter again. A kraft tournament was held between the Ancients in the crowning of a new Emperor, technology continued to develop, and so did the Kree come to prepare for the coming of the Skrulls.

But Grieve is through thinking of the past. In the present, in the now, the Kree are in danger. A Corpsman is dead. Another has joined with an Accuser to free a prisoner from the dungeons. Grieve recognized the Accuser from the Watcher of the Ancient’s memories, and could make one guess as to who has been freed.

Whatever Emperor Mas-Kedd’s faults, he is the emperor. Whatever he has been accused of, in his heart, Grieve is no traitor. To stand by and do nothing to combat a government takeover would be tantamount to treason. But to stop it, Grieve needs weapons.

Finally, Grieve stops before two specific trophies. One is a suit of body armor used by Combine troops during the Unity War. The other is a specially made craft with fifteen percent fewer blades and slightly small spiked balls at the ends, allowing for greater dexterity.

Both are constructed from grative and letor, the two strongest ores ever mined on Hala.

Both are rumored to be enchanted with spells that haven’t even been heard of in millions of years.

Most importantly, both the armor and the kraft supposedly belonged to the legendary warrior And-Sur. And-Sur, a warrior who, together with four other young men, fought off an army at the Reever Canyon for nearly three months. When Combine reinforcements arrived, they found half that army dead, and And-Sur the last man standing among the four, still fighting regardless of his numerous mortal wounds.

Once, And-Sur was considered to be the archetype of the Kree warriors, meaning he was the archetype of all the Kree. He was strong, fast, a superb fighter who didn’t give up until the last drop of blood had left his body.

Reaching for the armor and the kraft, Grieve is prepared to do the same.

“Is the Omni-Wave Projector ready?”

Gondar the Accuser bows. “All the preparations have been seen to, Supreme One. With the Omni-Wave, you will be able to broadcast all that occurs directly into the minds of all the Kree.”

The Supreme Intelligence, in the body of Ki-Ree, smiles. “You have pleased me Gondar. When this is over, expect a place in my organization, and recognition beyond that of Ronan.”

“When this is over, ‘Supreme One’, I’ll send you back where you belong!” Mas-Kedd growls. “In the land of the de-Argh!”

His mind wracked with pain at the brutal mental assault, Mas-Kedd sinks to his knees at the Supreme One’s feet. “And that is where you belong, boy. On your knees, groveling before your betters.”

The Supreme Intelligence waves his hand, and Mas-Kedd is hurled into his chair, knocked unconscious. Striding up to the next step in Kree evolution, the Supreme Intelligence keeps his hand raised. He is angry, something he has never felt before, and he is ready to kill the man.

“No, not yet.” Fighting past the rage, the Supreme Intelligence lowers his hand. “The Empire will see his death, and those of the Council of Ancients. In that moment, they will know that their true ruler has returned, and they shall rejoice. Gondar, how are the Supreme Hall’s defenses?”

Gondar bows, his Cosmi-Rod at his side. “Supreme One, the combination of our technology and magical skills are holding the Watchers of the Ancients at bay. With the magical shield you and Su-Ree erected, reinforcements cannot arrive. Once we’ve taken the palace, and slaughtered the usurping government, all resistance should stop.”

“Of course it will stop. I am the true ruler of the Kree. These pitiful aberants might fight me, but the cattle outside will do nothing once I declare myself. We must act quickly. I have waited so long to enact my revenge, that my patience is growing thin.”

“Ahh!” Nearby, Su-Ree cries out in pain. “Supreme One, the Kree Corps are in the palace!”

The Supreme Intelligence turns to face Su-Ree genuinely surprised. “Impossible! Even Star Gate cannot teleport through the mystic shield!”

“Th-the mystic shield has been breached! Such power...I have never felt the like!”

The Supreme Intelligence snarls one word. “Ultimus.”

“There’s definitely something wrong. We never should have been able to penetrate this far into the palace.” Captain At-Las grips the handle of his holstered blaster, his eyes scanning for any sign of someone to shoot. “Minerva, Shatterax, either of you sense anything?”

“There is a large concentration of mystical energies in the vicinity of the Heart Hall,” Shatterax drones. “I detect no immediate threats near our location.”

“Minerva?”

Dr. Minerva shakes her head. “I can sense no hostile thoughts towards us, At-Las. Whether or not our quarry in the Hear Hall know of our presence, I cannot say. The magical interference is hiding them from my empathic scans.”

Captain At-Las feels a faint breeze, and suddenly Captain Var-Dann is standing beside him. “I’ve swept the palace three times. There was a breakout in the dungeons, with five Watchers of the Ancients dead, and one cell opened. Most of the guards are outside the Heart Hall, which is apparently under the control of the Cult. Before you ask, I couldn’t get in.”

Captain At-Las looks at Ultimus, pale and resting on the floor. “And without him, we might not have the power to get in. What’s wrong with him Minerva?”

Dr. Minerva, kneeling over Ultimus, looks up at At-Las. “It’s only a guess, but I would say that Ultimus burnt out his power in getting us through the mystical field. Combined with his earlier efforts against the Nega Man, the stress was simply too great. He’s exhausted, At-Las.”

Captain Var-Dann snarls. “Just great. Without Korath, Jaxur, and now Ultimus, our ranks are too weak for any real offensive. We certainly won’t be able to handle a hostage situation!”

Captain At-Las slams his fist into the wall, cracking it. He gives Var-Dann a vicious look. “We’re Kree, dammit! We’re the greatest warriors in the universe! We should be able to handle any threat!” Turning away from his teammates, At-Las lowers his voice to a whisper. “But dammit, you’re right.”

Dr. Minerva looks at At-Las in complete surprise. “At-Las, I-I don’t think I’ve ever heard you-”

“-give up hope?” At-Las finishes. “Never. True, we won’t have a chance against the Cult as long as we worry about the Emperor and the Council. But if we do nothing, the Emperor and the Council are dead anyway. The solution is clear. They must be sacrificed for the greater good.”

Dr. Minerva nods. “They are true Kree. It is what they would want.”

“Then let’s get planning,” Captain Var-Dann states. “If Shatterax helps the Watchers break into the Heart Hall, the three of us will be able to strike. We’ll you two blast at the Cult from the air, I can disable as much as I can. Hopefully, we’ll be able to save a few Ancients. We’ll probably lose the Emperor, but-”

“As much as I would love to see that,” a dead voice calls from above. “We are honor-bound to find a better way.”

Captain At-Las and Dr. Minerva look up, and immediately jump back as three armored Kree fall in their midst. Their backs are clearly broken, and not by the fall.

Captain Var-Dann didn’t jump back. He keeps looking up, straight at the emotionless face of Grieve. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Were you the one they busted out?”

Grieve drops from the air duct, and gives Var-Dann a cold look. “How I escaped is none of your concern. What you did, you did under the Emperor’s orders, and so bear you no grudge. We have traitors to kill, and the first thing you need to do is know your enemy.”

At-Las looks Grieve up and down, an amused smile on his face. “What’s with the archaic armor? By Hala, the rust will give you away at over a hundred yards.”

“It’s a by-product from the Unity War, and thus it is magically protected, as is the kraft. We should take whatever advantage we have, and that includes knowledge.”

Dr. Minerva nods. “What do you know?”

“Everything that now-dead Cultist told you, and then some. I know that Skreel is dead, betrayed by Su-Ree. She and Gondar the Accuser broke into the dungeons.”

“That bitch,” At-Las snarls.

“Slut and whore are better descriptions,” Grieve adds. “I’m not entirely sure whom they released, but that person now pulls the strings. It’s clear the intent is to wipe out the old government and set up a new ruler.” Grieve jerks his head at the three dead Cultists. “From them, I know that a modified Omni-Wave Projector is being set up. It will broadcast today’s events directly into the minds of all Kree, everywhere in the galaxy.”

“You’re the commander here Grieve,” Var-Dann states. “Do we stop the Projector? Buy time until Ultimus is recovered?”

Grieve shakes his head. “If we stop the Omni-Wave Projector, they’ll kill the Emperor and the Council anyway. Besides, I like the thought that all the Kree see the first mission of the Kree Corps end in a success.”

Minerva smiles.

“No, we need to stop the Cult, preferably without any loss of life. Regardless, we cannot lose the Emperor. To accomplish that, we’ll use Var-Dann’s plan.”

“You have too many psychos in your head! I’m not fast enough to take out the Cult with no loss of life!”

“Most likely you’d die in the process. Rather, you use the plan after I’ve infiltrated the Heart Hall and signaled you. I remember every inch of this palace’s construction. I can get in there with little difficulty, and I’ll do what I can to enable the success of the main attack.”

Grieve spins the kraft, glancing at each of the four standing Corpsmen. “This is the Empire’s greatest challenge. Even at our weakest, we will not fail. Prepare with the Watchers of the Ancients. I shall pave the way.”

Leaping backwards into the air duct, Grieve is gone.

Captain At-Las looks at Captain Var-Dann. “He’s the field commander. I just hope it works.”

Captain Var-Dann chuckles. “For him, it doesn’t matter. If we fail, he’s dead, a traitor. If we succeed, he’s still dead, a traitor. It’s a long story, even for me, so don’t bother asking.”

Dr. Minerva gives a slight shake of her head. “No. It matters to him. I couldn’t fathom why, but for some reason, it matters.”

“Then let’s begin. Shatterax, get into position with the Watchers of the Ancients at the southwest entrance.”

“Affirmative,” Shatterax responds. But by then, Var-Dann was already gone, scouting the palace again.

“You are wondering how I survived, aren’t you? It’s very prominent on your mind.”

Mas-Kedd stares hatred at the Supreme Intelligence. “It’s clear you tricked Genis-Vell, just as you tricked those Avengers long ago. No doubt you took advantage of the mental conditioning I did to him. You can remove the mental illusion, by the way. Posing as Ki-Ree is having no effect on me.”

The Supreme Intelligence gives a wicked smile. “A clever hypothesis, but not even close. Genis-Vell did succeed against me, to an extent. His battle against my Supremor drones amused me, and I came to the realization that he was too valuable to kill. Thus, when he shattered my containment unit with one of the drones, I chose to allow him to believe that I had fallen. However, that is only the beginning of my grand plan.”

The scenery around Mas-Kedd and the Supreme Intelligence shifts and molds, changing from the Heart Hall of the Palace of the Ancients to the Astral Plane. The Supreme Intelligence points to the left. There, another man resembling Ki-Ree faces off against a youthful man dressed as an ancient mage.

“Behold, the last moments of the true Ki-Ree. His opponent was one of the first Kree to join the Supreme Melding, a minor mystic known as Sum-Int. The fool had tried to survive the melding, and even achieve dominance. Fortunately, I soon quashed his pathetic dreams. But when the opportunity against Ki-Ree came, I saw the advantage of using what remained of Sum-Int against him. In his mind, it was a personal conflict, and I made great use of that.”

To the left, as the two men battle with krafts of psionic and mystical energy, two other figures slowly appeared to the right. The Supreme One motioned to them, nodding in satisfaction.

“My good ally, Hybrid. Ki-Ree’s descendent made a fatal flaw when she tried to bring Hybrid’s good side into the fray. Even as I battled Ki-Ree and Genis-Vell, it was pitifully simple to kill little Jimmy Marks and bring out Hybrid’s dark side once again.”

Around them, the scene played out. The bolt of psionic energy erupting from Sum-Int’s kraft striking Jimmy and Su-Ree. The monster that is Hybrid ripping out of the shell that was Jimmy Marks, and his brutal attack on Su-Ree. Mas-Kedd tried to turn his head away from the gruesome scene, but the Supreme Intelligence makes him watch.

“Hybrid was ecstatic to take his revenge out on the young woman. Notice how he tears her goodness away, layer by layer, leaving a shattered shell for me to mold later. Of course, he wasn’t pleased when I reneged on our deal, but he was the one that failed against Su-Ree in the first place.”

Ki-Ree’s only ally defeated, the powerful mage is left helpless against the onslaught of the two powerful minds. Mas-Kedd shields his eyes from the burst of energy, as the man who’d trained him to rule the Kree is utterly destroyed. Fixing his gaze once again on the scene, Mas-Kedd sees the form of Sum-Int shimmer into the visage of the Supreme Intelligence, and then into the form of Ki-Ree.

“To the victor goes the spoils. With Ki-Ree’s spirit destroyed, his body was up for grabs. Who am I to turn down a form as powerful as Ki-Ree’s? I’ve found myself more than satisfied with the vast magical energies he possesses.”

Again, the scene shifts, and Mas-Kedd finds himself once again in the Heart Hall. “Then what is the point of all this? You could have just masqueraded as Ki-Ree, quietly gotten rid of me, and ruled the Empire. What was the point of wasting all this time?”

The Supreme Intelligence laughs. “Curiosity, you foolish whelp. Ki-Ree had gone to so much trouble with you, I decided not to waste the effort. I’ve observed all this time, Mas-Kedd, and I like what I’ve seen. You’ve made all the right choices, and shown yourself to be a capable leader.”

A dark expression falls over the Supreme Intelligence’s face. Mas-Kedd gasps, unable to breath. “However, the experiment is over. The Kree are mine, boy, and I will rule them again. You have begun the healing process well, and for that I will make your death a quick one. Now be a good boy and wait while I prepare the audience.”

Releasing his psionic grip on Mas-Kedd’s windpipe, the Supreme Intelligence hurls the endangered emperor aside. Forgetting his plaything for the moment, the Supreme Intelligence addresses Su-Ree.

“Have you completed the spells on the Omni-Wave Projector?”

“The more powerful the spells, the longer it takes. I am doing my best, Supreme One.”

“My patience is growing thin. We must act before this Kree Corps have time to formulate a plan to disrupt my own.”

“With all due respect, Supreme One, don’t you have the power to accomplish this yourself?”

“I lack training in magic, and my mental capabilities are still recovering. I possess the power, but for now I don’t have the skill. Rest assured, Su-Ree, that this will change, and very quickly.”

Su-Ree meekly nods. “The Omni-Wave Projector will be ready shortly, Supreme One.”

“I’m very delighted to hear that.” The Supreme Intelligence gives a sadistic, rapturous smile. “This Empire was mine, and shall be mine again. The Kree are mine, and I shall reaffirm that claim. Eventually, I will track down this supposed god, this savior known as Kee-Ree, and I shall take his power as my own.”

The Palace of the Ancients is as old as Hala itself. Before the end of magic and the Cult of Kee-Ree, it had been known as the Temple of Kee-Ree. It was then renamed and made a home to the Emperor and the Council of Ancients. During the early stages of the Kree/Skrull War, when science and military technology was given high-priority, the Palace of the Ancients became a massive laboratory, home to the new scientific government. Thus, it was to be home to the Supreme Intelligence, which was the new scientific government.

It had been the hopes of Ki-Ree to resurrect the Cult of Ki-Ree, to rebuild it around the former Temple. For only a few short months, it has housed the administrative government of the Emperor and the Council of the Ancients, just like the old days.

Now, as Grieve feels the rush of information from an Omni-Wave Projector enter his mind, he knows that the circle is nearly complete. If he is weak, the Supreme Intelligence will again rule.

“My people!” The Supreme Intelligence declares in the mind of Grieve and millions of others. “I, the Supreme One, have returned!”

“Not for long,” Grieve mutters. Through the Omni-Wave, Grieve has a full view of the Heart Hall in his mind’s eye. Taking advantage of the knowledge from several top marksmen, architects, and geometrists, Grieve prepares a plan.

The long table that circles the Heart Hall is not permanently built in. Constructed in the days before space travel, the table is housed in the thick floor, and rises out through a series of gears. When the Cult made their attack, the Ancients were meeting, and that means the table was raised. Thus, a huge section of the maintenance tunnels beneath the Heart Hall is open.

Creeping along the cramped tunnels, Grieve observes their inner-workings, checking them against his memories. He walked directly under the long, ringed table, nodding that one detail in particular coincided with his memories. On the outer side of the ringed, three-foot high table, there was a niche two feet high and one foot deep. Grieve is a wiry man, not very large for a Kree. He’ll only need a few seconds.

Shifting his grip on the kraft, Grieve peers about the gears and machinery. The helmet, a leftover of the Unity War, is enchanted, allowing him perfect vision in the darkness. He finds the controls for the machinery quite easily. No doubt there are other controls elsewhere in the palace, perhaps built into the arm of the Emperor’s throne. Still, as a left-over from less advanced days, these should be the main controls. Unfortunately, Grieve’s memories hold true in this case. From his place next to the controls, Grieve can’t even see the machinery that operates ringed table.

Creating a mental map in his mind, Grieve fights out the images of the Supreme Intelligence and his speech to the Kree. There’s no time to waste. Grieve holds the craft ready at his side, and he activates the controls.

Grieve leaps forward as the machinery hums, knowing he only has seconds before his window of opportunity opens and closes again. Skidding at a tight corner, Grieve hurls his kraft at a jumble of gears, careful to use just the right amount of force. And his throw was true. At just the right moment, the kraft jammed the gears, and the massive ringed table stopped lowering.

Grieve rushes for the right spot, prepares his legs for the leap the moment he saw the glow of light through the gap. If he’d thrown it just right, if his memories and calculations are correct, the gears would remain jammed for only a moment longer.

Grieve jumps up and forward through the small niche, and his fingers find the floor of the Heart Hall the moment the gears force out the kraft. At exactly the right moment.

Throwing his legs over, Grieve rolls out of the niche and through the floor just in time. The kraft hurtles out of the rapidly closing opening without causing the slightest damage. Spinning through the air, one end of the kraft crashes into the chest of Gondar the Accuser.

That spiked ball cracks the Accuser armor, and bursts the heart of the Accuser itself, before ricocheting back towards Grieve.

Grieve’s right hand firmly catches the kraft on one of the few save holds as it spun past him. Reversing the weapon’s spin, Grieve assumes an attack position, the kraft crossed over his body in both hands.

Behind him, the Council Table has just lowered entirely into the floor.

His hand raised in a dismissive gesture, the Supreme Intelligence looks at Grieve with amusement. “And who might you be, little man?”

“I am the Griever of the Kree. By your actions, you have slaughtered billions of our people, and condemned the remainder to slavery. Only when the Kree, without any help from you, chose to fight back and rebuild the lives you destroyed, have you chosen to return. You have disgraced the history of the Kree, and the memories of those lives that you have destroyed. In their name, I am here to kill you.” There is nothing but there most sever of contempt on Grieve’s lips.

The Supreme Intelligence curls his lips in a malicious smile. He shifts his raised hand, and the second Ancient he had choked to death drops to the ground. “Spare me your grievances. Regardless of my actions, the Kree would have lost against the Shi’ar. Our race had stopped evolving, had stagnated genetically. What I did, I did to save the Kree of tomorrow.”

“You abandoned us,” Grieve snarls. “And now, you expect us to welcome you back, to follow you. You see us as little more than an experiment! The Kree know your crimes, Supremor, and they have judged you as their killer. In their name, I shall avenge them.”

“I may have been judged by the imaginary souls within your disillusioned mind, but the survivors of the Kree Empire know the right of my actions. They know that, ultimately, I am their savior!”

Grieve shakes his head. “You are evil,” he spits. “To support my claim, I challenge you to the ancient duel of the kraft. By the beliefs of the Kree, only the just and the righteous can emerge victorious.”

The Supreme Intelligence doesn’t hesitate to answer. After all, millions are tuning in via the Omni-Wave Projector. “I relish the opportunity to prove myself. The use of the kraft has been a lost art for too long. The Kree deserve nothing less than to view such a duel.”

Striding towards Grieve, the Supreme Intelligence holds out his hand. A glowing red kraft shimmers into view, grasped by the Supreme Intelligence. “A simple creation of hard light. Every bit as strong as metal, and every bit as deadly.”

Slowly spinning the kraft--Grieve notices that, despite the massive number of blades adjourning the haft, the Supreme Intelligence is not cut by a single one--the Supreme Intelligence advances.

I’m going to enjoy slaughtering you. The Supreme Intelligence speaks into Grieve’s mind, unheard by the observing Kree Empire. After all, the only Kree memories that truly matter are mine.

Slowly twirling his own kraft with both hands, Grieve prepares to meet the attack with one of his own. “I am more than a mere Kree, Supremor. I am a Kree Corpsman, pledged with defending the empire and race from the greatest of threats.”

Grieve leaps forward, swinging his kraft. The Supreme Intelligence does the same. “Kree Corpsmen kill!”

The spiked balls on either ends of the two krafts crash together. Sparks fly, and energy flares. Neither weapon is damaged.

And so the duel begins.

In strength and speed, the advantage is clearly Grieve’s. After all, he is a trained warrior, while the Supreme Intelligence has the body of a millenia year-old mystic whose training had been mostly spiritual. Also, while the Supreme Intelligence has the collective minds of the greatest Kree scientists, Grieve has the memories of all dead fighters, thinkers, workers, trainers, traders, diplomats, engineers, and so on. In other words, Grieve seems to have every advantage.

But somehow it’s taking all his strength, speed, and skill to keep the Supreme Intelligence from overwhelming him.

He uses the kraft as though born with it. The Supreme Intelligence seems to know all the strategies of using the kraft. In striking spiked ball against spiked ball, he takes careful precision in placing the impact just right, so as to snap off a spike or two. While Grieve notices the strategy, and carefully tries to avoid it, both ends of the kraft lose spikes.

Also, amazing as it is, the Supreme Intelligence seeks to take the fighting very close, until Grieve can feel his hot, know-it-all breath. Grieve recognizes it as the good strategy it is. Fighting too close limits the movement of the hands along the haft, for fear of cutting oneself, and it also introduces the threat of the other opponent’s bladed kraft. Of course, since the Supreme Intelligence has nothing to fear from the blades of his own hard-light kraft, the advantage of this strategy is clearly his.

Grieve has sorely underestimated the Supremor’s skill, and it’s taking virtually all of his own to make up for this fatal mistake.

Stepping back, Grieve spins and lifts his kraft, crashing the spiked ball against the haft of the Supreme Intelligence’s kraft. As Grieve suspected, the blades he shatter simply reappear after a few seconds. Better he discover this early in the fight, rather than at a crucial moment. As it is, the maneuver has bought a him brief moment of breathing room.

The Supreme Intelligence steps back from the maneuver, careful to protect his hands from the impact. Moving his hands fluidly along the haft, the Supreme Intelligence suddenly reverses the spin on his kraft and sends a spiked end crashing towards Grieve’s head. Grieve barely manages to deflect the blow in time, sacrificing another spike from the balled end of the kraft.

“You are beaten,” the Supreme Intelligence gloats, albeit with a raspy breath. “My weapon is superior, as is my skill. Had I wished it, I could have slain you long before.”

“If you could’ve, you would’ve,” Grieve replies, not at all out of breath. “But you can’t, so you haven’t. Words don’t win battles, Supremor. Victory is achieved only through a man’s actions, a solid plan, a priorities. As much as I want you dead, my first priority is to protect the Emperor and the Council.”

“Your actions will not have changed that. You are going to die in vain.”

Grieve just smiles and shakes his head, deflecting another attack. “Surely you’ve heard of a distraction, Supremor. All the Kree are watching us, including your guards. I can’t think of a better time for the Watchers of the Ancients and the rest of the Kree Corps to take the offensive!”

At the exact moment Captain Var-Dann heard Grieve cry out “Kree Corpsmen kill!”, Var-Dann knew that was the signal. “Let’s go!” he ordered through the transmitter to Captain At-Las, Dr. Minerva, and Shatterax. It took a moment for them to stop transfixing on the Omni-Wave projection, but the moment they did they struck like a juggernaught.

Blasting through the Cultists at the entrance, Shatterax led the Watchers of the Ancients into the Heart Hall. While Grieve and the Supreme Intelligence dueled with the krafts, Captain At-Las and Dr. Minerva were in the air, peppering the Cultists with blaster fire.

The very first thing Captain Var-Dann did was vibrate his hand through Su-Ree’s chest, liquefying her heart in a fraction of a second. He then proceeded to disarm the Cultists and free the imprisoned Emperor and Council of the Ancients.

The Supreme Intelligence lowers his guard, surprised by the sudden realization that his forces had been so quickly routed. He had given into the physical rush of battle, to his own ego, and has thus lost everything.

Grieve takes immediate advantage, slamming one balled end of his kraft into the side of the Supremor’s head. His own kraft shimmering away, the Supreme Intelligence falls to the ground, dazed. Grieve had no more spikes on his kraft.

Grieve stands over his fallen opponent, glaring at him with true hatred. “You have lost, Supremor. By the ancient traditions of the Kree, you are guilty of genocide, of forsaking your duty to your people, and of treason. As the accuser, I shall impose, and execute, upon you the penalty of death!”

“Stand down Corpsman,” Emperor Mas-Kedd commands, striding towards the victor and the fallen. “As Emperor of the Kree, as both representative of those wronged, and a wronged victim myself, it shall be I who shall oversee the punishment of the guilty.” Mas-Kedd looks down at the Supreme Intelligence, cracking his knuckles. “Supremor, you shall die at my hands, the life choked out of you.”

“I abhor such stupidity.” The Supreme Intelligence raises his head, and Grieve and Mas-Kedd suddenly find themselves hurled back. “I’m sorry children, but play-time is over. No more pretend.”

Standing, the Supreme Intelligence looks with curiosity at Captain Var-Dann, standing in mid-run towards him. Like everyone else in the room, he is frozen in place. “I’m so disappointed in you, Captain.” He shifts his gaze to Captain At-Las and Dr. Minerva, still in mid-air, and at Shatterax. “In all honesty, I’m shocked that you three weren’t killed by the Shi’ar long ago.”

Standing amongst his dead followers and helpless opponents, the Supreme Intelligence shakes his head. “If I chose it, I could kill you all with but a thought. However, that would accomplish nothing. You would all be dead, and the Kree as a whole would cry for my blood. Eventually, I would be defeated and destoryed, a new government would be formed, and existence would go on as usual.”

The Supreme Intelligence looks Emperor Mas-Kedd straight in the eye. “I highly recommend you pardon Corpsman Grieve, ‘your eminence’. After all, he’s done something that few individuals in the galaxy have ever done. He actually defeated me. And speaking of people that could defeat me, I would calculate that Ultimus is finally beginning to recover. I would rather not risk the devastation of Kree-Lar by facing his rage, so I shall bid you all farewell.”

Surrounding himself in a faint green light, the Supreme Intelligence slowly fades away. “I intend to say ‘hi’ to Kee-Ree for you all.”

Cleaning up did not take long. After the Emperor Mas-Kedd made some long and flowery speech, the bodies were quickly cleared. Traitors did not deserve a ceremony of honor. The dead Ancients, however, were carried out by the Watchers of the Ancients, and escorted by the surviving Ancients. All last, only the Emperor and the Corpsmen were all that remained in the Heart Hall.

Inspecting the ruined kraft, Grieve tosses it aside in disgust. “So much for the enchantments on it. The one I left at the Compound would have served me better.”

“Your weapon would have been useless against the Supremor’s power. The enchantments on this kraft are still potent, else it would have shattered at the first blow. I can easily repair it to its former condition.”

Grieve looks up at Ultimus. “You might be right. If you can repair this kraft, I may prefer it.” He turns to the four other Corpsmen. “I want you all to return to the Corps Compound and recover. When I arrive, I expect a full report on the events at the Vibranium Fields.”

Captain Var-Dann nods. “Make contact Shatterax.”

Soon after, the blue light of Star Gate envelopes Captain Var-Dann, Captain At-Las, Dr. Minerva, Shatterax, and Ultimus. The five Corpsmen teleport out, leaving Emperor Mas-Kedd and Grieve alone.

For a long time, neither man speaks. They don’t even look at each other. It is the Emperor who breaks the silence.

“You were obligated to inform me of the Supremor’s survival.”

“If you believed he was really dead, then I gave you far more credit than you deserved. At any rate, nobody would have suspected him of inhabiting the body of Ki-Ree.”

“True. I shouldn’t surprise you that your execution shall be cancelled. I’m granting you a full pardon.”

“Of course you are. The whole of the Kree Empire saw what I did. I am now considered a hero on par with the likes of Mar-Vell. At least, that’s what the two Kree who died in the last few minutes think of me. To execute me now would leave the people crying out for your blood.”

“For the moment Grieve, you are safe. But the people have a short memory. Your deeds will soon be forgotten, and then you will be mine.”

Grieve nods, clenching his fists. “Perhaps. But for now, I can at least do this.”

Grieve spins around, smashing his armored fist into Mas-Keed’s face. The Emperor crashes to the ground, dazed.

Satisfied, Grieve presses a stud on his gauntlet. “I’m ready Star Gate.” As the blue light envelopes him, and Grieve begins to vanish, he tells Mas-Kedd one final thing. “By the way, I don’t have the memories of Ki-Ree. That can only mean he’s not dead. I just thought you’d like to know.”