After narrowly eluding capture, he ran for the astrodromes to find a way off-world. The ship he managed to steal was a light transport of Skrull design, and was fully authorized to operate in this sector. Faking his way passed the Shi'ar cruisers in orbit, he set his course for the only place his resistance cell considered a safe haven. The planet Earth.
He was pushing the ship to its limits and although it wasn't a smartship it was equipped with a rather advanced AI. Before Krem-Lar had stolen the ship, and changed some programming, the registeries had it listed as 'Idiot', owned by a young rogue Kymellian noble named Kofi.
Flicking his ears in an agitated manner, Kofi had half a mind to just teleport back to 'Idiot' and head out to pick up a cargo he had arranged for at Alpha Centauri. This, he chided himself, was not a very good idea, as he was likely to lose his transport permit in what had become a reasonably profittable area of space for freight haulers.
The Shi'ar official glared at him from behind his desk, and shuffled a few more papers. He then took in a deep breath and tried to look authoratative.
"Young one, you have no idea of how much trouble you could be in. What do you know of the Kree resistance groups that have been operating in this area?"
Snorting indifferently, Kofi blurted, "I know that they're a Snarking nuissance and disrupt the trade routes every so often, other than that I couldn't say. What are you asking me this for?"
"That fact is that your ship was noticed leaving in a rather big hurry, and that the pilot was almost totally inept. After running several analyses of the departure communications we found that the person piloting it was a Kree rebel. What can you tell us about that?"
"WHAT?!"
Sighing, he sipped at his drink as the waitress, a blue Kree, placed his lunch in front of him. The waitress was an older woman, but always tried to be the one to serve him. She seemed to enjoy his company and the news he brought from his trade-routes. He enjoyed her company as well, as he felt comfortable telling her about what was going on in his life, a confidant he hadn't had since he had last seen Alex Power, an Earth friend and his 'cousin'.
"Problems, Kofi?" she asked, giving him an almost motherly look.
Replica ran down the corridor of Haven II, an artificial planet orbitting a neutron star somewhere beyond the Plaiedes.
"Did Marty say what he wanted me for, Mainframe?" she asked.
"Unfortunately, no," a disembodied voice replied, appearing to come out of nowhere. "Although the files he has been accessing lately concern the 20th Century."
Rounding a corner, almost sliding on the metal floor, the young teenaged Skrull came to a stop outside a metal door. Hitting a keypad beside the door, she waited as the door slid open.
"Marty?" she asked. "You wanted to see me?"
"As a matter of fact, Replica," Martinex, a crystalline being, stated, coming into view, "yes, I did. I've been studying the timestream lately, ever since our timeline diverged from Vance's actions regarding his younger self. I've been noticing some fluctuations in the late 20th Century, and I decided we need someone from our time there to observe, and intercede if necessary."
"And you're sending me?"
"Why not?" he countered. "Besides, your race was in space for a while already, even back then, so you won't really draw any...undue attention."
"I... see..."
"I've already asked Giraud to use the Phoenix Force to transport you back there. He's waiting for you in Shuttle Bay 15."
"I... I won't let you down, Marty."
Smiling as Replica left the room, Martinex sat down at a monitor, and popped in a fresh docuchip. His expression changed from smile to worriment.
"Personal journal, 15 July, 3019. I've just sent Replica into the past, on a mission from which I fear she may not return...."
"And that's the best I can come up with. Give up spacing, or find a ride out."
Sitting in silence for an awkward moment, he sucked noisily through a straw at the dregs of his Skaff. It wasn't Jolt, but at least it wasn't the infamous Blue Stuff, as Jack called it.
"Perhaps," Nom-Laa said slowly, "I have a way to help you."
Kofi's ears perked up at this, and he began to hope.
"There's a transport vessel ready to leave as soon as possible, but it needs a pilot with the appropriate clearances. Also, it's headed for Earth. You mentioned something about having family there once?"
This was more than he had hoped. Not only was he almost being handed a free ride off Hala, but a trip to visit his 'cousins' was rather long over due. He wondered if Jack still had that annoying tendancy to look for fights.
"What kind of clearances are we talking about?" he asked, slipping automatically into a business attitude, but corrected his tone of voice when he remebered that he was talking to Nom-Laa. "And what's the cargo?"
"I'm pretty certain it'll be only passengers," she replied, glancing around the dining area, her eyes fixing themselves momentarily on a Shi'ar trooper in the booth behind Kofi. The young Kymellian caught the glance, and wondered if something wasn't being said. Leaning a bit forward he said in what he hoped was a somewhat desperate voice, "I'm just looking forward to getting off-world and seeing about a new ship."
Kid catches on quick Nom thought. Should I tell him about the special circumstances?
Kofi was starting into a list of things he'd need to know, and she decided he'd be sharp enough to pick up on the details when they presented themselves. Besides, she knew of his teleportational abilities, and was sure he'd be able to get out of any tight spots he found himself in.
"...and is the 'sport equipped with a jump or hyper-drive?"
"I'm not really sure. You'll see what kind of shape it's in when you get to the spaceport. The guy you want to talk to is Ro-Antar..."
"This thing's an accident looking for some place to happen," he muttered to himself. Reaching the ship's entrance hatch he spoke to the blue Kree he met there.
"You're Ro-Antar?" he asked.
The old bearded Kree looked at Kofi from under his thick, bushy eye-brows, and smiled cryptically. "And if I am?"
"Then," Kofi replied, trying to decide if the man were being cautious or just annoying, "I'm your new pilot. Nom-Laa said to talk to..."
Before he could finish, he was pulled roughly into the ship and pushed down the corridor, a blaster muzzel in his back. The Kree kept him moving without a word until they entered a compartment somewhere near the midships. The Kree motioned him to a chair while he fiddled with a small communications console. After several moments of terse discussion, he turned the monitor around to face Kofi, and said, "This the runt?" The face on the monitor belonged to Nom-Laa.
"That is Kofi," she replied. "He's a decent enough pilot for you, Antar. It's too late to change your mind about a non-Kree pilot now. You shouldn't be so paranoid."
"Heh. Spending a lifetime as an Intellegence agent does that. OK, so we've got a pilot. Next time don't pick someone so ignorant to ask for names at the hatch."
"It's a losing battle, Herc!" a young Shi'ar woman called out, bashing her fists into a trooper's faceplate.
"Nonsense, Deathcry. This battle's just beginning!"
"Face it, Herc. We're sitting ducks here in the bridge."
"You have a better idea, girl?"
"Actually, I do." Backing away from the battle, Deathcry tore off a hatch to a ventilation shaft.
"YAHOO!!!!" she yelled, dropping into it.
"Friend Shi'ar," Herc yelled, "RECEIVE THE GIFT!" Slugging a Shi'ar trooper in the face, he sent the trooper flying backwards, knocking over several others along the way.
Scrambling into the ventilation shaft, Herc wondered what he had gotten involved in.
And still it drifted.