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DISCLAIMER

1) This material is not used for monetary profit in any manner.  It is
done solely for enjoyment purposes, and as homage to the great stories
and characters of Marvel Comics Group

2)  All  the  characters,  events,  and locations portrayed within are
recognized as property of Marvel Comics Group should they so wish.

3)  This  story  has been written by Samy Merchi <samerc@mash.yok.utu.fi>.  Any
commentary  in  the  form  of compliments or critique is welcomed, and
eagerly hoped for.  So go ahead and drop me a line telling me what you
thought, okay?  It'll make my day.  ;)
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                   STARJAMMERS: MISSION IMPOSSIBLE

                      CHAPTER TWO: Standing Tall

   Sikorsky stirred and looked around.  The same.  He was still in his
quarters or cell or whatever his captors decided to call it.  It was a
barren little room, almost a perfect cube that was just big enough for
a  standard-sized  humanoid to stand tall in.  The walls were polished
black  and  reflected  the light coming from the panel in the ceiling.
The only piece of furniture in the cube was a small bed that stretched
from  wall  to  wall  on  one side of the room.  On the other side the
ever-present open doorway taunted Sikorsky.  But he knew.  It was just
a  cruel  joke  to  further torture him.  There was no escape.  And he
wouldn't give his captors the satisfaction of trying anymore.
   Sikorsky  stretched his insectoid wings and slowly began fluttering
them, raising his small, foot-long body into the air.  He made a small
circle  in  the  air, looking for something - anything - that might be
different today - that might give him a chance to escape.
   Nothing.
   Sikorsky  glared  at  the  open doorway with his red, circular eyes
resembling  the  headlights  of  a  terran  car.  Maybe he should try.
Maybe  they  have  slipped  today.   He slowly fluttered closer to the
doorway and looked out.
   A  long,  obsidian  black  passage  stretched  to  the  sides, soon
disappearing  under  the  dim  lighting coming from the panels.  Not a
sound  could be heard.  Sikorsky decided to try once again.  He tensed
his wings and prepared to streak out and fly along the passage as fast
as he could.  He hovered next to the doorway, and took a deep breath.
   Footsteps.
   Sikorsky  cursed his luck and felt the frustration rise within him.
He  didn't want to, but he flew quickly back to his bed, too broken in
spirit  to  even  try  anything.   He  just lay there, waiting for the
person to arrive and his torture to begin anew.
   The footsteps slowly came closer, tapping against the floor gently,
in a monotonous, rhythmical tone.  Then, they stopped for a while, and
silence  reigned.  But it didn't take them long to resume, and quickly
began approaching Sikorsky's cell.
   A  figure stepped into the doorway of the cell, his silhouette tall
and  proud,  the  characteristic Shi'ar feathered hair apparent around
his head, even in the back lighting.  Sikorsky could tell little more,
other  than  the  man was wearing a robe of some sort, flowing all the
way down to the ground.
   "It  is  time", the figure intoned softly, but the sound could just
as  well  have been the crack of a whip to Sikorsky, the herald of the
upcoming ordeal to him.
   Nevertheless, Sikorsky dared not oppose, because he knew that if he
resisted,  it would only be a matter of time before his resistance was
broken.   And  he'd just be the worse off for it.  So he fluttered his
wings,  starting  slowly,  and took off into the air, flying up to the
figure.

   "Damn  it,  Ch'od!!   I refuse to accept that!!" Corsair's tone was
enraged  and frustrated as he rose up from his command chair, striding
over to Ch'od's station.
   Ch'od  looked  up  and nodded to Corsair, a grave look on his face.
"I  am  afraid  it  is  true, Captain", he said with a sad tone to his
comment.  "I can not find one inconsistency in these documents we went
to  retrieve  from Shadow's Edge.  Either they are forged brilliantly,
or they are true."
   Corsair's  fist  banged onto Ch'od's console violently and his eyes
snap  shut as he tried to keep himself from letting out a cry of pain.
He  succeeded quite well, too, only a small grunt escaping his lips as
he  held  his  sore  fist  in  his other hand.  After that, an endless
stream  of  earthborne curses started streaming out of his mouth, only
stopping after a minute or so.
   Raza  watched  curiously  from  his  scanner  console,  his eyes on
Corsair,  wondering  about  Earthers'  customs.   "This  is great news
indeed",  he  finally  stated  with  a  smile.   "Finally,  we  hath a
challenge  worthy  of  us.  A glorious one, truly!" Everyone else just
stared at him.
   "Crazy,  you are, Raza", snapped the beautiful weaponsman Hepzibah,
her  eyes narrowed at him.  "To go to birdies' nest, suicide, it would
be", she said icily.
   A  silence  fell, as Corsair's eyes snapped to Hepzibah.  "And what
do  you suggest, Zee?  Leave him there?" His tone was equally icy, not
betraying  a  bit  of  the  supposed  affection  between  him  and the
white-furred mephisitoid.
   Hepzibah  turned  away  from  him,  shrugging  her narrow shoulders
emotionlessly.   "Much  more  birdies we kill, when we alive", was her
only answer, leaving the bridge seeming a bit colder, and Corsair felt
a  chill  run  thru  his spine when he heard the woman he loved act so
cold.  "Avenge him a thousand times, we will", she finally offered, as
a weak excuse, as if to try to placate everyone.
   Corsair stared at Hepzibah for a long while, the only sounds on the
bridge  the  silent  beeps  of  the scanner console.  "That's not good
enough",  he  finally  stated,  firmly,  determinedly, and the silence
continued.
   The  latest addition to the Starjammers, a young kree refugee named
Keeyah,  finally  broke the silence.  "Low standard orbit estabilished
over  Standing  Still,  Chris",  he  said  in a slightly hopeful tone,
wishing to turn their leader's thoughts elsewhere for a while.
   Standing  Still  was  one  of  the  many worlds affiliated with the
'Clench'  -  an  alliance formed by several anarchist worlds trying to
stay  away  from  under  the  yoke of the Shi'ar, the Phalanx, and the
Uncreated.  Standing Still, in particular, was a designated refuge and
haven  for  the  remaining  kree  who  wished  to  escape  the  Shi'ar
oppression.   The Starjammers had ferried the refugees here for a long
time,  and  eventually, when Corsair decided to give up his life as an
interstellar freebooter and pirate, they had come to call it...home.
   A  slow nod from Corsair gave Keeyah the go-ahead.  "Take us down",
he  added with a weary voice, walking back up to his command chair and
plopping down onto it.
   Keeyah  nodded  back,  and  tapped a few commands into his console,
beginning  the  routine  landing  procedures  he had performed so many
times  after joining this reckless, hare-brained band.  The Starjammer
complied  as  deftly  as  ever,  starting  to  slowly descend into the
atmosphere,  the  force  fields  changing  frequency  to deal with the
friction  of  the air as it became thicker and thicker the deeper into
it the Starjammer plunged.

   "I'm going to go to Chandilar, infiltrate the conspiracy, fight the
Imperial Guard, and get him out of there!"
   The crowd burst into roaring laughter, and the party continued.  If
anything, the kree remnants knew how to enjoy life to its fullest.  On
Standing  Still,  every  night  was  party  night.  And to avoid being
pulled  in  was  next to impossible.  The mood was infectious.  As the
sun   had   set,   campfires  had  been  lit,  providing  a  beautiful
illumination  mixing light and darkness in a romantic combination only
enhanced by the ever-present music and joy.
   Corsair  didn't understand what everyone was laughing about.  Sure,
this  -was- his thirteenth Pink Cloud, but he had been serious.  There
he  stood,  in  front of a campfire, standing tall as he had exclaimed
his  decision,  and  what  do  they do?  They laugh.  The only one who
didn't   was   Hepzibah,   who   stared   at  him  coldly.   Was  that
disappointment he saw in her eyes?
   In  the  noise  and  uninhibited celebration, few people noticed as
Corsair  slipped  away, his Pink Cloud in hand as he made his way off.
He  didn't  think in his drunken stupor, just fixed his eyes somewhere
where there were no people, and stumbled in that direction.

   Keeyah was highly enjoying the fame that being a Starjammer brought
him.  The kree golden boy had been among the first kree refugees to be
ferried  out  of  Hala  when the Starjammers began their refugee runs.
Then,  when the Starjammer's piloting computer had been damaged beyond
repair  on one of the runs, the kree leader Helek had appointed Keeyah
himself to replace it.  He still couldn't believe his luck.  Never had
he  felt  so much alive as now, with the Starjammers.  Daring pilotry,
half-baked  plans,  reckless missions...  Walking the razor's edge was
Keeyah's idea of fun.
   Right  now,  being  a  Starjammer was more than that, though.  Even
more  than  the  missions  themselves, Keeyah enjoyed the time between
them  -  the time to enjoy the slight perks of his fame.  In one word,
women.   Since  becoming  a  Starjammer,  Keeyah had never once had to
complain  for the lack of women, unlike before.  He had concluded that
women  are  attracted  to  success.  Well, at least the women who just
wanted his body, he grinned.
   Alina  smiled as Keeyah rustled her hair, looking up to his eyes as
they  lay  on the bed in his quarters.  Her hand slowly traced circles
over  his  blue chest, gently caressing it.  "I love you, Keeyah", she
whispered softly, nibbling his ear.
   A slight smirk adorned Keeyah's face.  He didn't even look into her
eyes,  just  contented  himself  with  looking  up  at the ceiling and
holding her body against his.  "That's what they all say", he chuckled
softly,  holding  her  a bit tighter nonetheless, a possessive part of
his mind glad to hear that from yet another woman.
   There  was  a  moment  of  dead silence, before Alina rolled to her
side,  away from Keeyah, turning her back to him.  But she didn't pull
away.   "So  I'm  just  another  catch for you, is that it?" she said,
steeling her voice so as not to betray the hurt inside her.
   "Face it, Alina.  None of you ever gave me a second glance before I
became  a  Starjammer", Keeyah explained calmly.  "I'm just collecting
my dues."
   A  single  tear  ran  from Alina's eye down her cheek, reaching the
pillow and soaking into it, leaving little trace.  She quickly brushed
her  face to wipe away any traces the tear left behind, before rolling
over  again to her other side, to face Keeyah.  "It was your fault for
being  so  damn  distant, Keeyah!" she said with a bit of anger in her
voice.
   Keeyah rolled his eyes, not looking at Alina even yet.  "What was I
going to do, make a fool out of myself in front of everyone by chasing
women pitifully, and make a laughing stock out of myself??  Now, it is
the  opposite,  and  women  flock  all  over me.  I don't have to look
desperate by running after them."
   "Fine",  Alina intoned coldly.  "Keep your flocks of women, if that
makes  you secure." She began to get out of the bed, sitting up on the
edge,  her  back  to  Keeyah.   "I  thought you were worth the risk to
'chase  you  pitifully'  and 'make a laughing stock out of myself'.  I
guess  I  was  wrong."  A cold silence descended into the cabin as she
gathered her things and left.

   Corsair  had  no  idea what he was doing in the middle of this dark
forest  or how he had gotten here in the first place.  All he knew was
that  he  had a Pink Cloud in his hand, he was alone, and it was dark.
Well,  he  couldn't get rid of the last two, but he could certainly do
something about the first.  He lifted the mug to his lips and inclined
it, letting the burning liquid pour down his throat.
   After  a few seconds, the sensation ended for some weird reason and
he  shook the mug slightly, before realizing it was empty.  He snorted
and  threw  it  away,  leaning onto a tree for support.  He missed the
tree, and fell headlong onto the soft ground.  The drinks began taking
effect as blood flowed to his head, and he began feeling sick.
   Suddenly,  he  felt  a  soft touch on his shoulder, a familiar one.
"Kate?"  he  whispered quietly, not being able to turn his head enough
to see the person.  But Katherine Summers was long dead, killed by the
mad  Shi'ar  emperor D'ken, and it was Hepzibah who now felt a shudder
of jealousy run thru her.
   "No,  Chris",  her  voice  purred  in  that usual tone which always
reminded  Corsair  of  Earth  cats.   "Not  Kate,  Hepzibah", she said
softly, running her fingers thru his hair.
   Corsair's  adrenaline  level went instantly up as he recognized the
person.   He  pushed himself up in a fit of anger, stumbling off a few
paces,  and  ended up hitting his forehead into a tree branch, falling
backwards,  to  the  ground  again,  his  lungs emptying of air at the
impact.
   Hepzibah  shook her head, keeping her narrowed eyes on Chris' prone
form, slowly striding up to him as he gasped for air.  "Relax, Chris",
she  whispered, sitting on top of him, straddling his hips.  "Hepzibah
be here, take care of you.  Like always."
   "No!"  Corsair  said,  trying to push her off, but his muscles were
like  jelly,  and  she  was completely sober, grabbing his wrists with
quick motions.  She held them tightly, spreading his arms to the sides
as she leaned forward, her lips looking for his.
   "You  want me, Chris.  I want you", came her voice from between her
lips.   "Stupid you be, if all this you ruin, by after him going." Her
voice was passionate, yet scolding.
   His  eyes  vacantly roamed her face, everything out of focus due to
the  drinking, but he couldn't deny the attraction.  It had been there
ever  since  they  first  met, and it would always be there, no matter
what else happened.
   Hepzibah's  soft  hand  caressed  his cheek and her lips lowered to
his,  kissing  him  deeply,  warmly.   Corsair found himself unable to
resist, and like so many times before, gave his all to the kiss.
   Slowly, Hepzibah's lips pulled away, leaving a lingering taste onto
Corsair's  lips.  "Do it not, Chris..." she purred.  That was the last
thing  he  heard  before the drinking took over and everything finally
blurred into merciful darkness.
   "Do it not..."