A planet with no name . . .

Five people traveled carefully and cautiously in a tight group. They walked through ancient ruins long forgotten. The three moons were all full, illuminating the night just enough for them to find their way.

"This is not right," Jonath whispered. He was Shi'ar. Three of them were. And this planet with no name was a place they did not belong.

"Stop your whining," Nightside replied.

"Easy for you to say, you disappear into shadows," Triad replied. She and Nightside were of other origins, belonging on the planet even less than the others.

"All of you, hush," Cerise frowned. "We are here because we must be. The crystal will provide us with what we need to stop D'Ken and his mad reign."

"It doesn't even bother her when we talk about her brother like that," Triad whispered to Jonath.

"She's with us for a reason," he answered. "Who better to stop him than his own sister?"

"Stop," Lilandra motioned with her hand. "That temple up ahead . . . it's the final resting place of the M'Kraan crystal . . . the nexus of realities. The focal point of existence."

"Bum bum bummm . . . " Nightside whispered back, grinning. The others glared at him and he hushed.

"Report?" Cerise asked into her wrist communicator.

"Scanners still report an all clear," a voice replied.

Lilandra nodded, grasping her photon rifle tightly. "Come."

The group moved forward, slowly walking the large steps towards the temple before them.

"The House of Sharra and Kythri," Jonath spoke quietly as they walked through the massive doorway. "The most holy of holy places . . . where not even the Emperor is allowed to go. An entire planet completely devoid of life, merely to preserve the greatest secret in the universe."

"I'd feel better with a little light," Triad whispered.

Cerise waved her hand and created a few glowing orbs, producing minimal light. "That should be enough."

The walked along a narrow pathway held high over a bottomless pit full of darkness.

"Watch your step," Nightside said. "I won't be able to save you if I can't see you fall."

"You see in the dark perfectly," Cerise frowned.

"Oh, right," Nightside grinned. "Oops."

"It should be in the chamber just ahead," Lilandra said. "Sharra and Kythri forgive us, we do what we must . . . "

The five pushed the large stone door open slowly. It was heavy and took much of their strength to budge. But finally, they had their access.

"No one has been here in a thousand years," Jonath commented. "The crystal's energies should be illuminating the entire r--"

"It's . . . it's gone?" Lilandra asked, looking up towards the alter where it was supposed to be. "How . . . ?"

"Did they get to it first?" Cerise asked.

"I don't like this . . . " Nightside frowned.

"Mentor to Cerise, come in!" the voice broke through on her communicator. "Movement, lots of it, heading your way! Get out of there immediately, transporters won't work through the chamber!"

"It's a trap!" Cerise exclaimed.

Triad quickly split into three, each of her selves gripping their photon rifles.

"Move, move!" Jonath ordered. The seven rushed forward out of the chamber. They ran across the bridge and out into the entranceway. "Down the stairs, quickly!"

They all were running, but they weren't fast enough. A gust of wind sent them all flying backwards, close to the bottomless pit.

"No . . . not them . . . " Lilandra moaned.

"Yes, Traitoress," another woman said from the entrance way. "Solar Wind is here . . . and the Imperial Guard is with her!"

Warstar, Hussar and Starbolt stood behind her.

"Surrender or die," the robotic Warstar demanded. His gun-arms stood ready for the fight. Hussar cracked her electro-whip. Starbolt was bursting with flames, lighting up the chamber.

"You would be fools to fight us in here," Jonath spoke. "A Shi'ar cannot kill another Shi'ar on this planet . . . in this temple."

"How fortunate for us," Hussar grinned, "that none of us are Shi'ar!"

"It has come down to this, eh?" Cerise asked.

Jonath pulled a scythe from his back.

"Give us the crystal, and you shall live," Starbolt demanded.

"What do you mean?" Lilandra asked. "You already have the crystal!"

"Don't play games, woman," Solar Wind said. "The crystal now . . . "

"If they don't have it . . . who does?" Nightside asked.

"Figure it out later," the triplets said. "Let's do this!"

They each opened fire, unleashing a spread of photon projectiles across their attackers.

Warstar opened fire, surpassing the assault brought on by the triplets. Starbolt also unleashed his fiery fury, making the others scatter.

"We don't have time for this!" Cerise yelled. "We have to get out of this temple, now!"

She pulled her arm back and slammed it forward, as if to punch someone. The result was a blast of intense light that blinded the Guard.

"Come!" Jonath yelled. "Hurry!"

The seven ran forward, quickly shrinking down to five as Triad became one again.

"Mentor, we're clear!" Cerise yelled. "Begin transport!"

Warstar was right behind them. Being a robot, the intense light did not affect him at all.

"Look out!" Nightside yelled, tackling Cerise out of the way of a blast.

"Energizing!" Mentor said over her communicator.

"They must not escape!" Warstar said. As he did, a smaller robot leapt out from his back and grabbed hold of Lilandra.

"No!" Jonath yelled. He ran towards her, but before he could reach her he was teleported away.

The four reappeared onboard their starship, and found it being rocked by fire.

"Where's Lilandra?" Cerise asked.

"She was captured!" Triad exclaimed.

"We must got back for her," Jonath pleaded.

"Not a chance," Mentor greeted them. "We're under attack from two assault cruisers . . . we won't last another minute here! Astra, get us out of here . . . maximum warp!"

With that, the ship broke orbit and blasted off, leaving Lilandra behind.

"We lost Lilandra and the crystal!" Nightside exclaimed.

"They said that they do not have the crystal, either," Jonath frowned.

"But if they don't . . . " Cerise pondered, "Who does?"

"I don't know," Mentor shrugged. "It is a question for another day. We have more pressing matters at hand. Astra, set course for the Clench. Hopefully we'll find some contacts who know more about what's going on than we do. And don't worry, Jonath . . . if we can get her back, we shall."

Jonath sighed, looking out one of the viewports and into the endless reaches of space. Everyone on their ship had once been part of the Imperial Guard. But then Emperor D'Ken took the throne. He was mad and power hungry. They could not follow his orders . . . so they left. They are traitors. They call themselves the Rebel Guard, and they fight to put Lilandra on the throne, knowing her to be the more deserving member of the family. They seek to bring peace to a chaotic and warring race. It is a battle in which they are alone . . .

. . . But not for long.

MAR 2002 - #1

The Saga Begins . . . by Paul Hahn

The Slave Pits are a harsh and terrible place to be. Those convicted of various crimes live the rest of their lives in the service of the Emperium, being worked to death. It is a harsh world. A rocky terrain, where the only work is mining. So everyone mines. If exhaustion, starvation, or dehydration don't get you, the poison gasses beneath the planet's surface might.

It is here, underneath the twin moons at night, the story truly begins . . .

A young man struggled with his shovel. A shovel he almost laughed to himself. All the technology at their disposal . . . and we dig with shovels. I guess that's why we're prisoners.

He paused in his work to wipe the sweat from his brow. They worked long hours. When he first came here, he had no idea there could be more than twenty-four hours in a day. For he was truly unique in this part of the galaxy; he was human. And eighteen hours of work during a twenty-seven hour day was incredibly taxing.

This would be a lot easier if not for this damn visor . . .

The visor. He hated it. When he was thirteen, he opened his eyes and leveled a mountain. It was an accident. He didn't mean it. But much to his surprise, he, and everyone else, discovered that he had power. He shot amazing beams of force from his eyes. And that couldn't be allowed. So a ruby-quartz visor was constructed and attached to his head. He couldn't remove it, and his powers wouldn't work through it.

So I'm a prisoner . . . a trillion miles away from my home on Earth . . . the only living human that anyone's ever seen. Well, almost anyone.

"The work . . . is done!" the booming yell came over the loudspeakers. He always assumed it was in Shi'ar or some other major language, but the translator microbes he had breathed in long ago allowed him to understand, and be understood. He dug his shovel into the ground and started walking away. It would be there in the morning.

I've been here for . . . well, let's see . . . I was abducted when I was twelve. I spent a year on Chandilar until my powers developed. And now I'm twenty-four. Twelve years. All this time, living from day to day, knowing I could die at any moment. At the very least, it's made myself pretty strong. Something I might need if I ever get out of here . . . or even just plan to.

The young man fell into line as he joined the hundreds of others in his prison camp. They would be fed now. The food wasn't good. It was nothing remotely human. But he had adapted. And then, after eating, they'd be sent to their beds to sleep seven hours.

"Attention, prisoners," the Slave-Master bellowed, cracking his energy whip. "I have news. A select handful of prisoners will be chosen to be a part of an experiment. Though you have not heard, the Shi'ar have recently discovered a race of sentient, living space ships. They are few, as far as we know. But they have been tamed . . . and one is preparing for a voyage across the Emperium to test its capabilities. Five prisoners will be selected to work aboard the ship. We have been watching you. You will be assigned in the morning."

A living ship, eh? Now isn't that something . . . I guess, with all the other forms of life I've seen here, a living space ship isn't that far out of the question. Let's just say I've gotten used to weirdness.

"Where're you going?" someone called.

"I think you better be sticking around, eh?" another voice added.

The young man turned his head. There were two other men. One looked Kree. The other, he didn't know. They were hounding a woman. She was a species he didn't know as well, but he had seen her around. She seemed half cat, half person. That much he could tell. And she was one of the few women in his camp. Whereas the poison gas were the worst things for him, for women, it was the dangers of being raped and killed by the other men in the prison.

"Stay back," she hissed, her white fur standing up. She showed her claws. "I warn you!"

"You heard the lady," the young man frowned, standing behind them. "Leave her be."

"And who're you to stop us?" the Kree asked. "Human?"

They all referred to him like that. And the way they said it . . . like it was such an insult.

"I don't want any trouble," the young man continued. "So you better leave."

"I've a better idea," the other one said. "How about I kill you?"

"You're welcome to try!" the man replied. He moved swiftly, cracking a punch across the man's jaw. The jaw shattered upon contact. It had been broken before, and was still weak. He howled in pain. The Kree charged for him, tackling him. The young man fell to his back but rolled with it, kicking the Kree off him. He quickly stood up, preparing himself. The Kree pulled out a stone knife and wove it in the air.

"Now I'll kill you," he grinned.

The Kree charged again. This time, the human side-stepped him and elbowed the Kree in his stomach, knocking the knife aside and knocking the breath out of him. The human clenched his hands together and swung with both fists across his face. The Kree stood back, stunned. The human followed up the attack with a kick to the face. The blue skinned alien went down.

"Thank you," the cat girl purred graciously.

"No problem, Miss . . . ?"

"Hepzibah," she replied. "You are the human, yes? What do they call you? Cyclops?"

"It's what they call me," he replied, rubbing his hand through the back of his hair. It was because of the visor. "My real name's Summers. Scott Summers."

"I have never seen a real human before," she replied.

"I've never seen one of your kind before, either," Scott answered.

"Mephistoid," she answered. "And that is because the Shi'ar massacred my race. My planet was destroyed. The survivors were mostly killed. A few were allowed to survive to live their lives like this." Her demeanor had gotten sad, then angry. Her voice then leveled off. "And what of your planet?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I haven't been there in twelve years. I was abducted alongside my mother and father. They're both dead now, killed by the Emperor."

"I hate the Emperor," Hepzibah hissed. "If I could only get close enough to rip his throat out . . . !"

The two entered the large mess hall. Dinner was essential. They only got two meals a day: one in the morning, one in the evening. Scott had learned to save food each meal and hide it on himself, so he could have lunch while working.

The two waited in line together, got their trays of . . . Gruel . . . and sat together at the end of a long table.

"It's dangerous for you here," Scott said, cautiously looking around and noticing the stares she received. "You're a woman amongst almost all men. Men who don't normally see women. Their hormones are probably bursting through their eye sockets."

"I am aware," she replied. "I came from a female camp . . . the guards abused us. They always picked out the strongest . . . in order to help break our spirits. Here, they leave that up to the other prisoners. And, in case you had forgotten, you, too, are a male."

"I'm aware," Scott replied.

"You aren't interested in me?"

"I didn't say that. You're a very beautiful woman. But I've learned to . . . control my urges. It helps me keep an advantage over my fellow prisoners."

She nodded. "I will not spend my life in here. And I will not be killed in here. I shall either escape, or kill myself."

Scott nodded. He knew those feelings. He had contemplated suicide many times himself.

"What is with your visor?" she asked.

"I . . . shoot beams of force from my eyes," he answered. "This visor keeps me from being able to fire them. Our captors learned about my powers the hard way, though. That's probably why I wound up here and wasn't killed like my father."

"Interesting," she answered.

"Prisoners," the loudspeaker came on again. "To your bed chambers. Rest well to work hard. Remember that work brings freedom."

Work brings freedom . . . I seem to recall learning something about that phrase . . . something on earth . . . what was it . . . World War II? Funny that a world war seemed so large, whereas now I know of things like inter-planetary wars. Oh yeah . . . it was in the Nazi death camps. I knew so little of my world . . . and what I did know, I've been forgetting.

"It appears this is good night," Hepzibah said, standing.

Scott joined her, nodding. "Will you be alright?"

"All the females sleep together," she answered. "I will be safe. My thanks, for the help, the concern, and the company."

"No problem," Scott answered. He took her hand and shook it. She looked at him curiously. "It's an old earth custom. It means it was nice to meet you."

She nodded in return before turning to walk away. Scott walked in the opposite direction to his bed chamber, glancing over his shoulder a few times.

Better to make an ally than an enemy . . .

"You," a Shi'ar guard said, poking Scott with his staff.

He awoke slowly. It was early. He had another hour of sleep. He could tell . . . the sun wasn't up yet. "Hmm?"

"You have been selected for the Leviathan experiment."

"Leviathan?"

"The living ship. Come, human. Dress quickly. Any pitiful belongings you have, bring quickly."

Scott sat up, doing as ordered. He pulled a shirt on, slipped into the boots he was given. He pulled a small jacket over his arms. He ran a hand across his chest, checking as he always did that his amulet was there. It was his father's. He gave it to Scott the day his mother was killed. The day before he was killed as well. His father told him how it was a key. How it contained a great secret. But Scott never knew just how to unlock that secret. So he kept it with him, always, to remind him of his father, and to one day solve its mystery. It was small, round. He noticed it emitted a faint, blue glow. He never knew why.

"This way," the guard said, satisfied that Scott had had enough time to get ready. Scott followed quickly and quietly. He knew he was curious about the living ship. But he was also afraid. He was trading the devil he knew for the devil he didn't know. But then again, could there be anything worse than Sardauker?

The guard led him to a small transport pod. It was the same kind that had originally brought him to the planet. He boarded it slowly, the guard watching him carefully. He sat down, and found himself sitting across from Hepzibah.

He flashed her a quick smile, which she returned, before hiding it from any guard's view. A smile represented happiness, or hope. Neither should exist in a prisoner.

"You shall join your fellow 'crewmates' aboard the Leviathan," the guard said. He stepped out back and closed the boarding ledge. There were two more guards inside and two pilots.

At least I don't have to go it alone . . .

One standard hour later, in the docking bay of the Leviathan . . .

It was a strange ship indeed. Its body was oval-like, its hull a dark khaki-brown. Parts of the hull were luminescent, glowing against the dark of space. It was a breathtaking sight.

The shuttle had docked gently, and the boarding ramp lowered. A guard was waiting at the door to 'welcome' the prisoners. Scott and Hepzibah stepped off. The ramp closed behind it, and the shuttle prepared to return to Sardauker.

"This will be your home for the next few months," the guard said, leading them out of the hanger and into the cargo bay. "You will be given important tasks here. You two, and the others, have been seen to be model prisoners. You have been rewarded. However, you will still obey the rules of Sardauker. You may only speak when spoken to. You may only move when told to. Complete obedience is demanded. If you do not follow the rules, you will be punished."

The two continued to follow the guard as he led them to their 'waiting room'.

"You will remain here with the other prisoners until it is time for you to be briefed," the guard spoke. He locked them in their cells and then left.

Hepzibah and Scott were no longer alone. Across from them was a large, green skinned amphibious type alien. Next to him was a Kree. And across from the Kree was a Shi'ar cyborg.

"I am Ch'od," the big, green scaly one said. He seemed friendly.

"Keeyah," the Kree waved.

"Raza," the cyborg frowned.

"Hepzibah," the Mephistoid joined it.

"Scott," he nodded.

"It reminds me of a joke I once heard," Keeyah smiled. "So a Kree, a Mephistoid, a Shi'ar, a Saurid and a human walk into a tavern . . . "

"Laugh while you can," Raza spoke heavily. "We may ne'er again get the opportunity."

"You talk like we're riding to our deaths," Scott said.

"We shall see," Raza spoke. "We shall see . . . "

"Alex!"

Scott's eyes went wide. He snapped up from his dream. He had fallen asleep. And he had had that dream. More like a nightmare . . . only it was real. It was the day he was abducted. The last day he ever saw his brother.

The ship rocked.

He sat up and looked at the other cells. His fellow prisoners were asleep, too. The ship rocked again.

Feels like . . . we're being hit by something?

"Gravity wells," Raza spoke quietly, noticing Scott was awake.

Scott looked at him curiously.

"We've entered the gravity fields of the Klansar nebula," he clarified. "They be testing the ship under the most fowl methods."

"The ship's as much a prisoner as we are," Scott replied.

"Aye," Raza nodded. "'Tis a cruel thing these Shi'ar do. I hate to see it."

"Then we should do something about it," Keeyah replied.

"Unlikely," Ch'od frowned. Everyone was now awake. "They hold the guns . . . the keys . . . the power."

"Not all the power," Hepzibah chimed in. "Scott has great power . . . underneath his visor. If we can open it . . . we won't need guns."

"I . . . " Scott started.

"When they free us from these cells, I shall examine it," Raza concluded.

The ship rocked again. Only this time, they all felt something different.

"That sounded like a rupture," Keeya raised an eyebrow. "The gravity wells are too powerful . . . "

The guard returned to their cells. "Prisoners, on your feet. You are needed for repair work. You will do exactly as you are ordered. If you do not, we may all die."

They headed the other way, not the way they came in. As they entered another chamber, they found more cells, and another prisoner. He was standing, his hands chained to the ceiling. He looked them over as they marched past. He seemed almost human, with his blond hair and Caucasian skin. But Scott had known some Kree to be born that way. It was considered a defect.

They continued out of the prison area and into the main bridge of the ship. The viewer showed the nebula they were in, with vast energy surges flowing all around.

There was a commanding officer, three crewmen, and another guard besides the one that had brought them.

It's a skeleton crew, Scott thought. If this is all of them . . . there's hope.

"Any of you have piloting skills?" the guard asked.

"I do," Keeyah replied. "But I thought this ship was alive and could fly itself."

"It requires guidance," the commander answered. "It was adapted to serve our needs . . . it must be guided to fly that way as well. Guard, take him to the pilot's room and--!"

The ship rocked again, causing another breech.

"Why don't we just get out of here?" Scott asked.

"We can't," another crewman replied. "The nebula's center of gravity has us caught!"

"So much for your test flight," Hepzibah hissed.

Raza stood silently, examining Scott's visor from a distance. His bionic eyes allowed him to focus in on it.

Another blast hit, frying a control panel and electrocuting one of the crewmen. Ch'od took the moment to strike, planting a powerful punch across the guard standing in front of him, breaking his skull. Keeyah grabbed the guard's gun and shot the other guard, quickly.

"Here!" Raza said. He lunged towards Scott's visor, ripping off a piece of it and exposing a small button on it's side. "Press the button to open the visor!"

Scott responded instinctively. He pressed the button and unleashed his optic blast against the commanding officer. He went down. Hepzibah leapt at the other crewman, slashing at him with her claws. Keeyah shot the last crewman.

"We've got control of the bridge!" Keeyah exclaimed. "We've done it!"

"Not yet," Scott said. "There may be other crewmen. And even then, we've got to find a way to get us out of this nebula!"

"Keeyah and I shall head to the piloting room," Raza spoke. "We shall assess the situation."

Scott nodded. "Ch'od? Why don't you go back and free our other prisoner. You're probably strong enough to break the chains."

"He was kept separate from us for a reason," Ch'od spoke. "He may be far more dangerous than us. We may not be able to trust him."

"Right now, I doubt any of us truly trusts anyone," Scott explained. "But he'll help us . . . it's a matter of survival."

"Scott, this is Raza," the cyborg appeared on a monitor on the wall. "There were two more crewmen down here, but they have been subdued. The controls are fairly easy to grasp. But we are indeed caught. The ship won't be able to escape using normal engines."

"Is there an alternative?" Scott asked.

"The hyper-drive," the last prisoner entered the room, walking alongside Ch'od. "It's akin to a Shi'ar Stargate, only without needing the gate-to-gate travel. It's our only hope."

"Whoa," Keeya answered. "I've never heard of anything like that. How do we know the ship can take it?"

"We don't," the other prisoner replied. "But if we don't try it, we'll never know either way."

"Alright," Scott said. "We need to risk it. The ship won't take much more."

"But will it work?" Hepzibah asked.

The blonde prisoner nodded. "It will."

Scott looked him over. Something told him he could trust this man. "Keeya, Raza . . . punch it!"

The hyper-drive engines kicked in. The ship's hull began to glow, outlined by white light, and in an instant it disappeared. A few seconds later, the ship kicked out of hyper-drive, leaving the nebula millions of kilometers behind it.

"Whoa," Keeyah replied.

"It worked," Ch'od smiled. "What is your name?"

"Genis," the last prisoner replied. "I have this gift . . . it's called Cosmic Awareness. Somehow, I knew it would work."

"We're not out of danger yet," Scott said. "There may be more Shi'ar aboard . . . "

"No," Genis replied. "We're in the clear. We've done it . . . we've escaped the Shi'ar!"

"We're free," Ch'od smiled.

"So now what?" Keeyah asked.

"Revenge," Hepzibah sneered.

"I don't think we should make any quick decisions right now," Scott said. "For the moment, we're free. But this ship needs repairs. And if we're to stay free, we need somewhere to hide . . . to buy our time."

"Keeyah, set course for the Clench," Genis spoke. "It's a league of worlds outside Shi'ar jurisdiction . . . they won't bother us, and if the Shi'ar come for us, they might even help out."

"Do it," Scott nodded. "In the meantime . . . let's get to know this ship. As I said, we're free, but only for the moment. If we're going to stay free, we're going to need to make it to the Clench. And if we're going to get revenge . . . then we're going to need to be prepared."

Ch'od nodded. "I will go to the engine room, assess the damage."

"I will find the weapons," Hepzibah said before leaving as well.

"That was some quick decisions there," Scott said.

"They all looked to you for leadership," Genis replied. "You're human, right?"

He nodded. "Scott Summers."

"Well, Summers," Genis smiled, "it seems as though we've just embarked on the ride of our lives . . . "