The Invincible
IRON MAN
#376

by Van Plexico

"BETWEEN THE DARKNESS AND THE LIGHT"

As the remains of the slaver army attacked, Iron Man and Mondrian hurled themselves into combat, while the aliens they sought to protect watched from a safe distance and pondered the heroism they were witnessing...

The tribal chief watched in awe as Mon-Dria unleashed herself on the front wave of slavers. Indeed, she fought like a goddess.

"Filthy pigs!" Mon-Dria called upon all of her Kree starfleet officer training, running through a variety of martial arts moves. She switched from one to another rapidly, never becoming predictable. Her hand caught one ragged slaver under the jaw, staggering him back. As he stumbled, she swept his legs out from under him and then elbowed him in the back of the skull. Before he’d fallen unconscious to the ground, she’d already moved on, knocking the breath out of another and then spinning past another to trip him from behind and send him sprawling.

Beyond her the armored form of Iron Man hovered, his repulsors strafing the enemy, pinning the main body of their force close to their aircraft. He checked his indicators, and sighed. "My power is running low again, Mondy," he called.

"Then fight them hand to hand," she shot back, cracking a slaver’s jaw with a high kick, her sleek and muscular azure leg whipping out like lightning. The man moaned in agony and dropped to his knees.

"Well, yeah," Tony muttered, watching in awe as the Kree woman whirled like a dervish, deftly dodging swords, spears, and fists alike. Unreal, he told himself. She’s incredible. Reminds me of Carol Danvers, back home…

The slavers fell back and regrouped, cutting Iron Man and Mon-Dria off from the natives. Remaining out of range, they began to open fire with projectile weapons.

"This is insane," Mon-Dria yelled at Iron Man. "We should have them easily outnumbered by now!" Taking what cover she could, she turned back in the direction of the natives. "Bal-Rogg is no god, Arhus," she shouted. "He’s dead now, and your lives are your own again!"

Arhus’s broad eyes narrowed. He’d doubted Mon-Dria earlier, and feared she represented some sort of trap. But now, seeing her fight like this... Goddess or no, she made a strong argument. Making up his mind, he turned to the others, gesturing angrily toward the vehicle. "Destroy the followers of the dead god!" he cried.

The cry went up, instantly, and the natives, encouraged and given the opportunity to redress years of ill treatment, surged forward, burying the slavers in a mass attack. The slavers were taken completely off guard, never having witnessed anything but submissive behavior from the locals before. The slavers cried out in shock and surprise, then pain, as the hordes of red aliens assaulted them mercilessly.

Within his armor, Tony smiled. Finally. Every little bit helps. Racing toward the vehicle, he fired off a couple more repulsor blasts, until his power levels had dropped dangerously low. Mon-Dria shrugged and followed, grabbing a spear from one of the natives who was injured and wielding it with skill.

As the battle began to go poorly for the slavers, two of them ran into the craft to escape, but a group of natives followed them in before the door could close. An explosion, dull and muffled, sounded from inside.

Tony watched the red aliens emerge again, dragging the dead or wounded slavers behind them. They tossed them into a pile with the others they had defeated. "Hope those guys didn’t break anything important in there," Tony barked. "I want that ship!"

Mon-Dria frowned and ran for the ship’s hatch, dashing up inside. Moments later she exited and ran to Arhus.

"My thanks for your hospitality, Arhus," she told him, bowing slightly. "But now I must take my leave. Your people are free, and will not be bothered again. If you are, remember what you saw today. The slavers are not gods. They can be stopped."

Arhus bowed low. "As you say, Mon-Dria."

The Kree female motioned to Tony and then ran back to the ship. The armored human followed.

Iron Man sealed the hatch as Mon-Dria seated herself at the controls. Smoke filled the cabin from the earlier conflict.

"I don’t like that red light," she observed, pointing to the forward panel.

The armored Avenger plopped down beside her. "How does it look? Can you fly it?"

"I think so." She manipulated the controls. Outside the viewport, the trees fell below them as they surged into the sky. Soon the settlement was a tiny dot in the green expanse.
"You have some amazing skills," Tony observed, his eyes surreptitiously moving over her again. "Not just the fighting, either. This is, what, the third different vehicle I’ve seen you pilot?"

"They were-- how you say it? Thugs. Easily beaten. And as for the flying, it’s what I’m trained for." She studied the controls. "What heading?"

He blinked, trying to think clearly. "How about back the way we came? Now that we have a vehicle, maybe we can find a way out to the spaceport."

In reply she moved a lever and the craft shot ahead, spun around and launched forward.

Tony pulled his helmet off again. "Ohhh... I’m going to be so glad to get this armor off."

Mon-Dria wrinkled her nose. "I don’t think I want to be there when you do."

He gave her an ugly look. "Just fly the plane."

BANG.

"What was that?"

Mon-Dria hunched forward, manipulating various controls. After a moment she growled and smacked her fist on the console. "This craft was indeed damaged," she replied. "We’re losing altitude. Going down."

Vibrations rattled the craft, shaking them roughly. Tony sighed deeply and snapped his helmet back on. "Do we need to bail again?"

"...No, I don’t think so." Mon-Dria continued to work the controls. "I can set us down."

The craft sailed down in a lazy arc and slid through the treetops, down into the underbrush. Twice it banged against huge tree trunks, the second time sending it into a spin. The craft’s headlights flashed around in a spiral as they careened out of control. Iron Man and Mon-Dria held on for dear life as the ship bounced along the ground, until finally it came to rest with a lurch.

The hatch popped open and Iron Man hopped out, looked around quickly, then reached back and took a box of supplies from Mon-Dria. She hopped out behind him, followed by a cloud of smoke.

"Is it going to blow?" Iron Man could see flames licking out from the rear of the craft, seeming to spread. His armor normally would have offered a couple of options to stop the fire, but the combination of his currently low power levels and the alien nature of the ship's technology combined to give him pause.

"I don’t know," she replied. "But it is useless to us now. We should not stay near it. The slavers could have another group looking for us."

Iron Man nodded, lifted the crate, and he and Mon-Dria trudged into the underbrush.

***


They marched on through the night, eventually stopping when they came across a small stream with a waterfall. Both dehydrated by this point, they lingered over the stream, drinking deeply. Then they gathered some wood and built a small campfire, and settled down beside it. Mon-Dria found a single small blanket in the supply crate, and Tony indicated she should lie on it.

Tony stretched out against a tree and tried to sleep, but was too wound up. He rolled onto his side, peeking at Mon-Dria; she apparently had found no difficulties in drifting off. He admired her sleek form for a moment, wishing he had another blanket to pull over her and tuck her in. Then he looked down at his still-armored body, and eyed the waterfall. Hmmm...

The joints popped loose stiffly, and he slid the components off, revealing the thin gray outfit he wore underneath this particular version of his armor, laced with its printed circuitry and electronic components. It was also stained with sweat. He wrinkled his nose and peeled it off, as well, setting all the components safely away from the fire. With a sigh of relief, he stepped into the stream, and ducked his head under the waterfall.

Mon-Dria peered at him with one open eye. She had not fallen asleep at all, but had tried to be quiet for Tony's sake. Now she watched him, standing naked under the flow of water. She wondered why she was so curious. He’s just an alien, she told herself. Not even a highborn one. She shook her head suddenly. What are you thinking, Mon-Dria? First you think of Tony, then you start calculating your social compatibility? She scolded herself harshly. You’re fascinated with Tony because he’s an alien life form, a human, and this is the first time you’ve seen one unclothed, in person. Your scientific curiosity is aroused. And that is all that is aroused, Mon-Dria!

Feeling suitably chastised, she resumed watching him. She really was tired, she realized, yawning. Her eyes moved over his form, admiring his muscles, his-- You’re doing it again! Stop it! What is the matter with you? He’s a human! No matter that he’s attractive! He-- attractive? Where did that--? "Arrrhh!" She growled and rolled onto her other side, squeezing her eyes closed, wishing he’d hurry up and finish bathing.

Drying himself off as best he could, Tony reluctantly squeezed back into the gray outfit and lay down beside the fire.

At that moment Mon-Dria popped up, huffing.

"What’s the matter?"

"Nothing. I cannot sleep." After a moment, she glanced over at Tony and nodded. "You can lie here if you like. You cannot be comfortable on the ground."

Shrugging, Tony climbed over onto the blanket, settling as far as possible from the Kree female. "Thanks a bunch, Bal-Rogg, for getting us into this mess."

"Or to whoever first constructed this facility," Mon-Dria replied, yawning, the smoke from their fire wafting around her. "Or to the one who brought us here."

"Or..." Tony thought a moment. "I know. To the little guy-- was he human? Was he Kree?-- who keeps wanting us to register. Here’s to you, pal."

They both drank deeply from the water jugs they'd salvaged. The night seemed to grow darker around them, and colder. Tony shivered involuntarily.

They finished the jugs and lay back. The smoke from their fire washed over them, though they hardly noticed anymore. Somehow, the flow of time seemed to change. The surroundings were spinning again for Tony, and as his bleary eyes peered over at his companion, he noticed that she seemed disoriented as well.

The night was much colder now. They moved closer together, almost unconsciously. How much time had passed? Tony couldn’t tell.

They bumped together. Tony grew tense, but relaxed as she didn’t object.

"You must get very cramped, being inside that armor for so long," Mon-Dria was saying. Her voice sounded as if it were coming from far away.

Tony felt her hands massaging his shoulders.

"You need to be in fit condition tomorrow," she said, continuing to knead his aching muscles. "We both do, in order to find our way out."

He turned, his face close to hers. She didn’t draw back. In the dim firelight, her blue eyes stared back into his, warm and inviting. He leaned closer, her deep blue lips so inviting. She closed her eyes. Their lips met--

--the fire seemed to die out, and the night was pitch black--

--he could feel her lips, so warm--

--everything faded--

--darkness--

--for a timeless time--

--and then--

Morning.

Tony opened his eyes, blinked, and sat up.

"Wha--?"

He looked around, his mind reeling.

They lay in a massive, bigger-than-king-sized bed, lush covers pulled up over their legs. The bed sat within a palatial suite, as in a fine hotel, or possibly a mansion. From outside the ornate windows, sunlight streamed in.

Tony grasped Mon-Dria by the shoulder, shaking her. He realized with a start that she was naked, as was he, though she still wore the golden braclets, anklets, and ring.

"What is it?" Mon-Dria awoke, sat up, and experienced the same shock that Tony had. She pulled the covers up to her neck, scooting slightly away from Tony. "Where are we? How--?"

"I have no idea," he replied. "No idea at all."

The double doors opposite the bed swung open. In walked the little man in the gray suit.

"I don’t believe this," Tony growled. Then, "Yes I do. Of course I do."

"Awake at last. Wonderful." The man stood at the foot of the bed, the clipboard in one hand. "You two are proving most troublesome. If you had not finally come to rest, I doubt if I would have yet found you. You’ve spent far too much time in the Dead Areas. You’re making things difficult."

"We’re--?" Tony gaped. "We’re making things difficult? Are you serious?" He started to get out of the bed.

"No, no, that won’t be necessary," the man said quickly. "You can enjoy a bit more time here before you proceed. You certainly need the rest." He walked around to Tony’s side of the bed, holding out the clipboard. "Here, just register and I can leave you be for a time."

Tony’s eyes narrowed. Then he grabbed the clipboard and pen, and before Mon-Dria could object, he scrawled across the page.

The man took the clipboard and pen back and nodded. "Thank you. My, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?" He straightened his tie. "Things might have gone a bit more smoothly before if I’d realized that you two were mated." He shrugged. "But that can’t be helped now. In any case, things are cleared up now, so you can proceed to the proper venue shortly."

"Mated?" Mon-Dria gawked at the man in confusion, then at Tony, who shrugged.

"Yes," the man said by way of explanation, "I was so excited to have a matched set of Kree that I overlooked... other possibilities." He seemed rather abashed.

Mondy threw up her hands in frustration and glared at the man. "What are you talking about? You have given us virtually no information since we were brought here-- something I’m becoming quite certain was your doing to begin with."

"Enjoy your remaining time here," the man stated hurriedly, moving towards the doorway. "The next segment will begin shortly." With that, he exited, pulling the doors closed behind him.

Mon-Dria was fuming. She climbed out of the bed, pulling the sheet off and around her, and crossed to the doors. Her long mane of snow-white hair cascaded down her back as she walked. She turned the knob. "It’s not locked."

Tony got out of bed and crossed to the door. "Really?" He ran a hand through his dark hair. His head ached. He could scarcely remember anything from the night before. They’d been lying in front of a fire... It was cold... And... Something else...?

Mon-Dria whirled, her eyes wide as they locked onto his.

"MATED?!"

They both gawked at one another for a long moment, then both at once, if only for necessity’s sake, seemed to force the idea from their minds. Dashing about the room, they searched frantically for anything of use. The search came up empty.

In frustration, they flung the room’s twin doors open and, still naked, dashed through--

--and the world vanished.

All was whiteness, everywhere. Above, below, in every direction, nothing but blankness.

Mon-Dria gasped, her every muscle tensing in terror.

"Well," Tony breathed, as he and Mon-Dria hung in the void, "you did want off the station…!"

Next: They're really off the station, and for good-- but they've escaped to... where??
Join us in thirty short days for Meditations on the Abyss

SOCK IT TO SHELLHEAD!
Send mail to: vplexico@bellsouth.net

This month, noted MV1 writer Mark "Baloo" Beaulieu contributes a fine analysis of what's come here so far:

Van is writing a nice adventure story here.  It's fast paced and has some nice slow moments.  The situation he has put Iron Man in is probably different than anything we've seen Iron Man in before. If you like space epics, you'll most likely enjoy this storyline.  It's a nice story, if not overly deep.  Van's writing is better than anything I've read before.  <<

Very kind words, MB. Thanks.


Now after saying that I do have some other comments to make (don't take these as being necessarily negative, they're mostly observations):
1) It doesn't really feel like an Iron Man story.  That's not necessarily a bad thing, but I wanted to point that out.  What makes Iron Man for me is Tony Stark.  There's really no opportunity to explore certain aspects of Tony here.  Plug in just about any other hero or pulp character and you could tell a similar story.

I understand your feelings on that score, Baloo. It's probably because I came up with the story first, and indeed shaped it to fit Iron Man. I think it will improve in this regard once we get IM and Mondy headed back toward Earth.


I honestly hope that when Van finishes this storyline we get to see his take on Iron Man in a more normal setting.

We'll see if I can get a bit more conventional in that regard before I depart the title. As of now, I'm planning on doing just that, before it's all over.


2) Why use Babylon 5 titles for the issues if they don't fit the issue? Some do, but some don't.  For example, why use "Parliament of Dreams" for an issue that has neither dreams nor a parliament?  Just curious, I could just be dense. :)

A.  Once I decided to use B5 titles, I had to stretch some a bit further than others, to try to make them fit.
B.  I would argue that my "Parliament of Dreams" story had about as much to do with a "parliament" and "dreams" as did the B5 episode of the same name! (The same is probably true for numerous B5 episode titles.)     :-) It was metaphorical, sort of, for the dreamlike quality of the Conan-era throneroom of Bal-Rogg, with slaves and slave-girls, in the middle of a vast, advanced space station.


3) This series doesn't feel like an MV1 story.  I think that's on purpose, but I thought I'd point it out anyway.  As I said above, I'd love to see you ground some later issues in MV1 continuity.

Yep-- it is the way it is so that I could get Tony away from everyone else's business, and have a space adventure.  Beyond that, though, I don't know what makes other stories feel like "MV1 stories," that I'm lacking here... I just wanted to use some new characters instead of rehashing old ones again.


That's really about it.  Van does some really nice writing and if you like adventure stories, give these issues a shot.  The same goes if you like space stories.  If you're looking for a traditional Iron Man story, this ain't it and that's not necessarily a bad thing.  Van's writing is excellent so check this out.

Thanks again for the review and the insights and compliments, Baloo. I'm just hoping this can be mentioned favorably as one of Iron Man's better space-based stories, alongside his and Jack of Hearts' space sojourn in #109-112...

Tune in next time as we figure out just what the heck happened to Tony and Mondy when they ran out that door. And... mated??

--Van Plexico

Atlanta, Georgia
March, 2001

Story © 2000 - 2001 by Van Allen Plexico