NOVEL FROG Arc Seventeen. Chapter Four Hundred Eighty-Seven. Show And Tell
Coulson was not happy. The fact that Osborn survived was supposed to be a secret, known only to the Skrulls. It was his incarceration that made a lot of their advancements possible. It was also possible he would remember just how they made those achievements.
Commander Bereet stood on the gangplank of her shuttle, careful not to step foot on Earthen soil. "I know, but in a show of good faith, the Earthians should be the ones to judge him. We admitted Carol Danvers may have been the victim of a plot, but Osborn was on his way to trial by your people."
"Earthlings, and we get that, and the stunt?"
"Administering blood tests to over a thousand troops takes time, Director. We complied with your request. Until then we will obey the law and no member of the Nova Corp will step foot on Earth. We even conformed to your weapons limitation standard. Low yield, barely enough to stun a hairless ape."
Coulson ignored the dig. "So, that's it? Just hand him over and let us deal with him?"
Bereet turned to walk back to the airlock, "He is one of your criminals, Director. Nova Corp law says we either send him or the Kyln or space him. Whatever punishment you decide upon is of no concern of ours." Bereet turned and walked back up into the ship.
As the door hissed shut, Coulson motioned over four agents. Two held up pulse rifles while the other two approached Osborn. Coulson watched impassively as the agents manhandled the subdued Osborn with ease. He barely registered as they lifted his arms and attached the cuffs, and never moved as they added a collar.
Maybe this won't go sideways, Coulson thought to himself, and maybe I'm a Bligsnipes uncle.
⁂
"We take you live to a surprise press conference. It seems that master criminal Normal Osbron has been found alive by the Nova Corp. Rather than face Xandarian courts, they have handed him over for trial on Earth. We now go live to that announcement."
Coulson stood next to Thor, with Osborn surrounded by guards. This was to be the first trial to show the united front of the three governments.
“It has been decided that the criminal Norman Osborn, known on Xandar as Gargoyle, be tried on Earth. His escape was a tragedy, and his capture, a relief. While we believe he should be held accountable for his actions both in the Galactic sector and on Earth. As a show of good faith, he is being turned over to the Earth's authorities. Asgard is not here to rule, nor judge. Osborn should face human courts, and human law. We hope that this will finally cement the relationship between our peoples.”
Goyle stood in power suppressing cuffs, miserable. They had removed most of the flesh from him at one point or another. Over and over they had cut and taken from him until he felt there was no more left to give.
Trapped in a needless cycle of pain and torture Norman had finally died. His mind broke and all that remained was the monster they wanted him to be. And a monster he was. Not just from him, but Goyle as well, and the Skrulls. For all their talk of benevolence, they were only kind to those they stood to gain from. Norman was a test subject and a criminal. He knew nothing but pain and suffering. When an organ finally ruptured or failed to regenerate, they simply replaced it. It wasn’t mercy for Normal though, he knew it was only to keep him alive to ensure further samples could be harvested. It was one of those implants that now pulsed into life. A small organ, designed to regulate a hormone, had been harvested. Rather than deal with the monotony of an injection, they replaced it. Neither Norman nor the Asgardians knew it had been modified. A signal from a craft triggered the implant, and it squirted its payload into Norman's body.
Thor stepped forward. “With my authority as Prince of Asgardian, I hereby release you into the custody of Shield.” Thor nodded to Coulson, who waved forward four guards. Four more held pulse rifles aimed at Osborn. As they moved to surround him, he groaned in pain.
Norman winced as the burning formula spread through his body. He wanted to scream and cry out as the fresh pain wracked his body. But as the heat dissipated he felt great. He was great. He was Goyle. No, he was Norman Osborn. And these puny chains couldn't hold him. He could hear the voice in his head, commanding him.
Conform! Comply! Obey! DESTROY!
As Osborn remembered, whatever spark remained was lit into a raging bonfire.
He remembered that ignorant brat of his, Harry, taking his life's work and pissing on it. He remembered that little punk Parker, laughing at his armour and glider. His bitch whore sneered as she destroyed them both. He remembered that bitch Stacy as she mocked him and tore at his perfect form. He remembered each and every slight suffered on him by Loki. Her taunting of his perfect form. And Veranke, and those disgusting aliens. He wasn't some toy to be petted and played with. He was Norman Osborn, and these bugs should be kissing his feet and grovelling for mercy.
Roaring in delight, Goyle stretched as the mutagenic formula spread through his body. Whatever the Skrulls had done to him proved more than capable of dealing with the handcuffs. He was perfection, and the Formula enhanced him once more and bulked him up further.
⁂
Above, in her shuttle, Bereet nodded to the pilot. This was her chance to send her message. She needed the tower to transmit unless she wanted everyone to know what her message was. As she jumped from the shuttle, her flight pack flaring she headed back into the tower. She drew her pistol, and any who stopped to question her, she simply shot point-blank. Her goal was the top of the tower, and she had very little time to accomplish her mission.
⁂
“Pathetic,” Goyle shouted. “All to take over one measly planet,” and even as he smashed his saviour with a fist, he continued. “I am Norman Osborn, Proud American. I am above all you petty insects.” Even as Thor turned and swung a punch Goyle grabbed his fist and held him tight. “Prince Thor.” As Goyle twisted his arm, Thor grimaced in pain as the more powerful creature wrenched his arm. “Or should I say betrayer?” He smashed a thick fist into Thor's chest and he went flying. “Skrulls! All monsters under the bed, here to take your planet, and you idiots welcome them.” Goyle roared at the crowd but turned to Coulson. "Ah, the real Judas.” Coulson fired his sidearm but the bullets pinged harmlessly off Goyle's thick muscles. “You sell yourselves for thirty silver and then laugh as the reapers come to collect.”
As Coulson stumbled back, Goyle leapt forward, pinning him to the ground and smashed a fist into his face.
Lifting him up by the neck, Goyle held him out. “Show them, or I snap your neck.”
Coulson choked and struggled but Goyle was much stronger. He shook Coulson who was grasping at the hands around his neck.
“SHOW THEM!” Goyle yelled as he held Coulson up. Refusing to give in, Osborn smashed his fist into Coulson's back until he felt his ribs break.
Crying out in pain and spitting blood, Coulson slowly changed. His skin dyed itself a green colour before his face finally morphed into that of a Skrull. Cameras flashed and the crowd gasped at the alien reptilian face.
“This,” Goyle shouted as he held the Coulson-Skrull higher, ”this is your new master.” Goyle grabbed Coulson's neck with his other fist and began to squeeze. It wasn't long until there was a horrible crunch noise and suddenly the Skrull went limp. Goyle threw the body to one side, “And now you should thank me for showing you the truth.”
Thor screamed as he saw his mate die, and then he launched himself at the now veiny and overly buffed Goyle.
Goyle barely felt the blow as Thor slammed a fist into his side, and with a giant shovel-sized hand, swatted him away. This time as he crashed against the lighting rig behind the stage it sparked and shocked Thor's body. Her form shifted and the Skrull under the disguise was revealed.
“Goyle strong, Skrulls puny insects.” As he stirred in agony his muscles grew once more, puffing him up like a giant monstrous abomination. His arms lengthened and they touched the ground, making him look like a giant red gorilla.
Even then, the crowd took pictures and recorded the scene, unwilling to miss a single moment of the show. A news crew, who made their name filming powereds, used tables as a barricade while recording. They had already called the station, and this was going out live.
Asgardian soldiers charged at him, scoring several hits with their swords. “GOYLE HATES YOU,” he roared. The blows hurt, but his flesh knitted back together almost immediately.
Even the mad genius of Osborn stayed within the brutish monster. As a soldier raised his shield, Osborn grabbed its rim, and wretched it from his grasp. Once he had a good grip his other fist soon found its mark and the unfortunate guard was pummeled by the monster.
Soren stood. She winced and cried out in pain as she pulled a piece of broken stage from her ribs. “I will kill you,” she screamed and dived at Goyle, who swung a guard at her like a club.
Soren ducked, slid along the smooth carpet of the stage and spun, kicking Goyle in the side of the knee. It didn’t matter how big or tough you were, a joint was only supposed to bend one way, and as she kicked him, it bent and cracked. Goyle roared and laughed as he threw the guard at her. She caught him and laid him to one side, as Goyle grabbed his leg and straightened it. “You made me too difficult to kill,” he laughed as the limb clicked and he lashed out at her with it.
She could only cross her arms as the thick leg crashed into her ribs and sent her flying once more. “We did, monster, but we are not as simple as you think.”
Clenching her fist Soren concentrates and calls upon the stored DNA within her cells. Most Skrulls only kept one other form, but as well as Thor, she preferred another.
Her form grew, like the Hulk she had seen fighting. Veranke’s scientist had not been idle. They took Osborn's cells apart piece by piece, and bolstered them with Klyntar DNA.
Unlike most Skrulls, who only took on the appearance of another, Soren was different. She was the first of a new breed. A Super-Skrull, one with the powers of a Formula and a Symbiote. As she dashed forward, her hand became a huge blade, and she plunged it through Goyles chest. A brute was all he was, she was a warrior, trained to kill, not posture like an idiot.
Goyle spat blood in her face, “No mere bug can hurt me.” He headbutted her, driving the blade back out of his body. “Parker tried that, and it failed then.” Goyle swam down his arm and became a huge axe. “Mine's bigger,” he laughed and swung wildly at her.
She ducked under the huge double-headed axe and flicked her wrist, taking his hand off. “Didn't a woman tell you? It's not the size, it’s what you do with it,” she taunted him as her other arm changed as well, becoming a club.
Goyle laughed, “Stupid bug, we are still more than a match for you.” His symbskin stretched down, covering the stump and becoming another axe.
Soren heard her communicator buzz. “Commander. We have reports that Bereet is trying to access our communications. She has wounded several men. What should we do?”
Soren swore under her breath. Bereet had been blocking their scans of the Xandarians, meaning the obvious. She was one of the infiltrators they were looking for. Goyle was annoying, but only a minor threat she could deal with. If Bereet had access to planetary communications, she could call for reinforcements, she swore again, or worse.
Goyle laughed as he swung for her, but she had lost patience with him. The club swung and he howled as his hand was smashed. With her other hand, she brought the blade up and through his throat. She stood and watched as he gurgled and clawed at it.
“Survive that, monster.” As he slumped, she pulled the blade out. She touched her earpiece, “Where is Bereet now?”
“Commander, Carols Danvers is now here. She is uh.”
“Never mind, leave her to the Earthling.”
She looked around at the crowd, snapping pictures and holding up phones, and made a choice. The situation could still be saved. She could still save her people. Even with the crowd recording, she allowed herself to shrink back down into her true form.
“This is Commander Soren. Prepare for an imminent attack,” she said into her communication device.
She motioned over at the new team, who looked at one another and then nodded. Standing up straight, and taking a deep breath, Soren began.
“People of Earth, Yes, we lied. Yes, we hid. For good reason. You fear the different, hate the alien. But we defend you against an even greater threat. A race called the Kree is coming. They will kill your people, they will take this planet and they do not care how they do it. Prepare yourselves. Gather your armies, call your heroes, wherever they are. You must defend yourselves.”
They had been sure they had purged every Kree operative and contained the rest. She had not known Bereet was one. She was the commander of the ground forces on Earth, if she was compromised then any Xandarian could be.
She looked over at Talos, her beloved, but she knew she could not grieve for him. The Kree wouldn't care for her despair, and so she pushed it down, turned it to anger and swore revenge. “Ready the fighters, recall all Skrull operatives, and prepare for war.”
