Alison held back a smirk, covering her mouth with her fist as if preparing the cough just in case it was still noticeable. The tales of Skull-Man’s “charms” that were so popular among the media had not been understated and his continuous reel of jokes and puns bored her just as quickly as she had expected them to. His speech was hurried and continued without him taking a single breath, almost as if his life depended on it, and every time Alison expected him to stop he just kept speaking. If Alison hadn’t known better, that all of the reports of chance encounters with him described him this way, she might’ve assumed Skull-Man was incredibly drunk. No, he was simply a madman, which was probably an awful lot worse. Zakarr’s telekinetic strike, launching Skull-Man a great distance, almost made her laugh out loud. Instead it made her cringe along with most of the others as the sound of bones cracking and flesh tearing was almost sickening.

Hercules chuckled instead. He had seen Skull-Man survive far worst fates than that, including falling from skyscrapers, crushed by heavy machinery, and having his arms cut off with rotary saws. Every single time, Skull-Man would scramble back up onto his feet and proceed to beat up everyone in the room with his own detached limbs. Richie could already see Skull-Man pick himself up off of the floor, bones cracking back into place and blood flowing back into his body. It was almost disturbing how quickly his body repaired itself, easily fixing any injury no matter how damaging. Richie liked it because it meant he could push Skull-Man out of windows with no consequence.

He turned his head back to Zakarr just as he finished speaking. If Richie hadn’t been speaking to an alien then he might have assumed Zakarr had gone completely insane. But he was, as strange as it was to think about, so he didn’t assume a single thing. Instead he listened intently, eagerly soaking up the tales of Zakarr’s homeworld and the chaos that had befallen it. Richie barely even contemplated the idea that he was going to be dealing with galactic affairs; there had been no proof of alien life at all to humans until a few moments ago and now Richie was willing to throw himself into the middle of it.

It would be awfully fun though, wouldn’t it?

Richie whistled slowly, processing the scope of this revelation. “This is a lot to ask from us though,” he said, scratching his chin gently. He was perfectly willing to help regardless of the risks but he couldn’t say the same for the others. Alison looked to be growing increasingly worried even if she tried to hide it, and Richie could see that Natasha was taking her time contemplating the scenario as well. The hand on one of his lower arms began to move, however, fingertips pressing imaginary buttons, and a tiny blue holographic screen appeared in front of Richie’s eye. It scrolled down quickly and flickered away once it reached the bottom, disappearing as quickly as it had arrived.

“But I have no other plans,” Richie said, wiping an important appointment he had with an APCA agent off of his calendar. Agent Muse would just have to put up with his absence for a while. “But I don’t think I could in all good conscience abandon you and your people. I do have a few questions though since I have a feeling that this mission of yours is not going to be quite as simple as you make it sound. What kind of equipment do we have at our disposal? What kind of plans could you possibly have that’ll make use of five individuals when we’re up against an empire?”

“And what kind of weapons do Malus’ soldiers use?” added Alison. 

Richie had been tempted to ask. He had taken on armed gunmen and monstrous robots before but never aliens. Was it not entirely possible that his own technology could be ancient compared to those of Malus’ army? Like throwing rocks at a tank… Or that whatever abilities the combined party possessed would not be nearly powerful enough to compete with their alien weaponry and tactics? There were many worrying variables.

It was like walking blindly into a mine field. Still, Skull-Man’s enthusiasm did enough to bring a smile back to Richie’s face and reminded him that they had all experienced the bizarre and fought the impossible. [I]All except her[/I], he thought, quickly glancing at Alison. She noticed and turned away, furrowing her brow and letting her head fall to look at her feet. [I]This might prove too much for her[/I].

Zakarr activated the teleporter moments later, engulfing the party in a faint white light which grew brighter and brighter with every second that passed. Alison raised her hand, examining it. She could see her body changing, her fingertips vanishing into the white light. She felt as if she should be worried that her body was being torn apart but she felt oddly calm. There was no pain, only a faint numbness where her body once was, and before she knew it her vision was slowly fading, replaced by the blinding absence of colour. Richie looked equally amused, whom she could only just see out of the corner of her eye, but his seemed to be more of a scientific curiosity than hers.

“Fascinating,” he muttered.

The world broke apart around Alison, dragging her somewhere completely different, but before it faded in its entirety she heard a voice call out her name. It sounded familiar but the soft buzzing of the teleporter made it hard to distinguish. It was only when something heavy struck Alison, tackling her to the ground with a surprising amount of force, did she register it fully.

“Not getting rid of me that easily, Al!”

The party reformed within a large metal corridor, littered with wires, chain mesh and flickering panels. Lights flickered overhead, illuminating the room, but it was still too dark and dingy for it to be truly comfortable. Several other vulcans, the remnants of Zakarr’s rebellion by the look of it, darted back and forth about the room, monitoring different screens or moving objects back and forth. They barely paid attention to the bright flash of light that filled the room depositing the human heroes on the ship’s bridge, clearly having been expected it. A few vulcans, armed with large and bizarre looking rifles, pointed their weapons at the group. They held their trigger finger though, thankfully.

“Woah, that first step’s a doozy,” said the voice again.

It was a deep voice, strong and with a mild Scottish accent. It laughed and Alison instinctively threw her arm out, clutching onto the source of the noise. She grabbed what felt like the leg of a pair of jeans. “Walt! What the hell are you doing here?” she yelled, throwing her other arm forward and aiming for the man’s nose. If she had actually been able to see properly, her vision only just returning, then it might have actually hit.

When the light faded Walter smiled at her, a wide and toothy grin that was all too familiar. His blond hair was messy and frayed as it always was, and he kept both beady brown eyes locked on hers. He wore a thick, brown leather coat that Alison knew was reinforced with tiny steel plates sewn underneath the material. He even clutched a mask in his hand. Clearly he had decided to go all out on his introduction but hadn’t had the time. In a final fit of anger and confusion, Alison brought a fist down on Walter’s leg. It didn’t hurt but he feigned injury anyway. They both laughed.

Walter took a moment to glance around, meeting the eyes of everyone in the room. “So where are we? This doesn’t look much like a government facility or”

The guns of the vulcan soldiers immediately turned on Walter and one yelled something in an unintelligible language. Walter raised his hands immediately but he also raised an eyebrow, examining the alien man that threatened him. “Okay, I may have chosen a bad day to get involved in your shenanigans, Al.”