Chapter 9

? ? ?, The Warp, ? ? ?

"Now then, are we ready to return," asked Doctor Strange.

Yᴇs. Lᴇᴛ's ʙᴇ ɢᴏɴᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀᴇ, Mirqurios voiced.

Sam surveyed the others faces. He wanted to go home – well, not home, but to at least be reunited with Commissar Poltava and Enginseer Linux. He was beginning to crave the familiar. And as big as he talked, he was no longer so sure if he would be willing to die to stay back to prevent whatever Mirqurios was from entering Earth. One day, he would face judgement for his actions here. One day, he would have to pay for his laxity.

But today was not that day.

He and the others gave a quick nod. The Doctor Strange did something, well, strange.

The man raised his hand, making a motion with them. The fabric of the Warp erupted in a bright orange flare of sparks. Doctor Strange concentrated on the motion, making the same face psykers would when they were concentrating on psyking. This man was using magic.

Sam could feel the Warp shift around them. It was strange, like water or wind flowing. As Strange expanded the flare, the currents flowed quicker and more violently.

Cᴏᴍᴇ ɴᴏᴡ, ʜᴜʀʀʏ, Mirqurios projected. Tʜᴇ ᴘᴏʀᴛᴀʟ's ᴅᴇsᴛʀᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇɢʀɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʀᴅs.

Sam saw movement from the corner of his eye. Mirqurios' sanctuary was becoming unmade, and horrors were swimming along the currents. As the walls dissolved around them, Sam could see not only the small shapes of the "friendly" denizens, but the larger forms of the predators.

"Peter, Sam, Mirq – go" Strange said, jerking his head to the open portal.

Peter nodded his head and leapt through the portal first. Sam clutched his gear as he followed.

Going through the portal was strange.

It was like walking through a door. One moment, they were surrounded by the swirling aetheric energies of the Warp. The next: calm silence of an empty conference room on Terra. Sam turned to look back at the portal. Sure enough, the sparking portal tore a hole in the fabric of reality, showing the growing maelstrom of Warp that Mirqurios' sanctuary had become.

Mirqurios himself leapt into the air, taking flight. As he crossed the threshold, a change overcame the red raven. His form rippled, pulsing with energy. Wings became arms. Legs curled from flight extended and alit on the ground, the energy from flight converted to a walk. Red plumage twisted and knit itself into clothes: a long, draping tunic of red and gold, sandals, and golden greaves and gauntlets etched and worked with arcane symbols and embedded decorations. Feathers further formed into a mane of red hair, and the face of the bird twisted into a smooth copper human one.

Doctor Strange followed close behind and shut the portal.

"Huh," the sorcerer said, looking Mirqurios up and down.

"What?" asked Mirqurios, raising a brow.

"I really don't know what I was expecting."

"Surprised that I'm human after all?" he asked, posturing a little. He wasn't that tall – Doctor Strange still had an inch over him.

"No, it's not – I just couldn't picture a bird as, well, human."

Mirqurios snorted. "Well, it's certainly good to be back in the Materium." He looked around the conference room, and a look of confusion began to form on his face. "Where…?" he shook his head. "No, I can feel his presence. When are we?"

Sam looked at Mirqurios suspiciously. "It's the 3rd millennium," he offered slowly. "Why? Who's here? Who do you feel?"

Mirqurios turned his eye upon Sam, and the young guardsman shivered.

"The Emperor."

Sam breathed deeply. The Emperor – he was here!

"Uh, yeah. Emperor? Mind explaining who that is?" Doctor Strange asked.

"He's the Master of Mankind, the Guardian of Humanity – he's the God-Emperor of every person in the Imperium of Man," Sam said softly, his voice reverent.

Doctor Strange frowned, darting a glance to Peter and Mirqurios before looking back to Sam. "God-Emperor? You mean -"

He was cut off as the doors to the conference room opened and many new faces rushed into the room.

Sam cast a quick glance to Peter and Doctor Strange. Both had looks of relief as the new people entered – did they know them. Then Sam saw the familiar salt-and-pepper gray bun of his commissar and took comfort that he wasn't entirely alone.

"JARVIS alerted us the moment you got back," someone said.

A goateed man rushed to Peter's side, clasping the kid's shoulders. "You're here now – you're safe."

"Hey, I had some good people watching my back," Peter quipped back.

"I know – we sent Doctor Strange in after you."

"Yeah, but I had Sam and Mirqurios."

The goateed man took a step back and finally took in the newcomers. His eyes crossed over Sam's form in brief recognition – he'd likely been briefed by his Commissar – and landed on Mirqurios.

"Who're you?" the man asked.

"Yes. A very good question. Who are you?" another voice asked. It can from the back of the crowd of people. A man who commanded authority. A man who wore an eyepatch.

Tony stiffened the moment Fury spoke. He'd known that this moment would be coming. The moment that those three had made the news back in August, he knew that SHIELD would be interested. Why they hadn't helped when Parker and the kid went missing in the first case he couldn't understand, but now? It was the perfect opportunity. The alien Imperials were gathered in one location.

"Who. Are. You?" Fury repeated slowly, casting a look from Poltava to Mirqurios to Linux to Sam. Tony knew what Fury was trying to do. The whole room was silenced the moment he spoke – once he took command, his word was law.

Still, Tony had to give the Imperials some credit. They seemed mostly unphased by Fury.

The Commissar opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off.

"And what is your authority to demand our identities without revealing your own?" Mirqurios asked, leveling his own deep brown eye at the man.

"My authority?" Fury asked, calmly, patiently. "I'm no one special. Only the director of the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division, but you can call me Director Fury. And since you four have so mysteriously come onto my homeland, I think it's within my jurisdiction to inquire who such trespassers may be."

Poltava shot a stern look at Mirqurios, before facing Fury. "Director Fury," she began, her accent familiar to Stark. "We are Commissar Kasia Poltava, Enginseer Linux, and Guardsman Samuel Trembley, attached to the Cadian 1214th."

"So, you're on Earth as part of a military exercise?" Fury hazarded to ask.

"Negative," said Linux. "Our mission was on Vegzet I: assist the Mechanicus forces under the directive of Explorator Gieron to retrieve the STC for sanctification and addition. The Cadian 1214th was to support the mission of the Mechanicus."

It was the same as the first time they'd questioned the Imperials, Stark noted. Still, Fury remained impassive.

"And where is Vegzet I located?" Fury asked.

"It is deep within the Ultima Segmentum," replied Linux.

Tony noted that Sam kept sending glances to Poltava, who, very discretely, made a small gesture with her hand.

"And where would Earth be in relation to this "Segmentum?"" Fury asked.

"Terra lies to the West, in the Solar Segmentum," Linux answered.

Fury paced slowly before the four Imperials, carefully observing each one. Tony noted how he lingered on Sam.

"Where do your loyalties lie?"

The Imperials blinked.

Sam looked to Poltava. His nerves shown plainly on his face. Poltava, in contrast, was in much better control of her emotions.

"What do you mean?" she responded.

"Just that: Where do your loyalties lie?" Fury repeated.

"To the God-Emperor of Mankind and His Imperium," the commissar answered.

Sam repeated those words. "With the God-Emperor and the Imperium of Man."

"With the Imperium of Terra and the Adeptus Mechanicus," Linux replied.

"With humanity."

Poltava shot a look at Mirqurios, eyebrow raised in surprise at the answer.

Fury simply absorbed the answers.

"We still don't know the exact means of how you got here," Fury stated. "And this "Imperium of Man" is not something that exists here."

"We have been made aware," Poltava replied, a tension in her voice.

"So, you must realize the position that places me in. Three unknowns appear in Queens one summer day, completely out of the blue. Don't speak any language known on Earth. Strange technology. Even strange genetics," he said, looking pointedly at the young guardsman. "You disappear with one of our own into a strange dimension and return with yet another stranger. Now, we don't know the values and rules of where you come from, but here on Earth we like to know and document just who our aliens are."

All of the Imperials bristled at that.

"We are not xenos!" Poltava bit out with vehemence.

"Aren't you? You're not from Earth," remarked Fury.

"We are human! Our people, no matter their home world, have fought and suffered and died for the continued existence of humanity," said Poltava.

"So you say. But what proof do I have other than your word? Would you trust someone who just appeared on your doorstep out of nowhere and took up residence in your house?"

The commissar said nothing in response.

"I didn't think so. Avengers: Place them in the holding cells," Fury ordered.

"What? No!" Poltava exclaimed.

Linux's mechadendrites sprung to life and poised in a guard position, like snakes waiting to strike. Trembley swung his gun down from his shoulder and held it ready with long-trained ease.

"You should come willingly. You are in our house, after all," Fury remarked coolly.

A look of rage crossed Mirqurios' face for the quickest moment. Tony blinked, and he almost thought he'd imagined it, how quickly the man remastered his feelings.

"We will comply," Mirqurios said.

Poltava shot him a furious look, but said nothing. She signaled for Linux and Trembley to be at ease.

"Good," Fury said. "You just saved yourselves a lot of needless hurt. Captain, Stark: take them to the holding chambers."

015.M3, Holy Terra, New York, Avengers Tower, 7 November, Afternoon

Peter was worried. Director Fury had first quickly ordered the senior Avengers to escort the Imperials to holding cells. The rooms were clean and equipped with beds, but they were separated, denied physical contact, and were under constant observation.

But now? With the Imperials safely under guard, Fury had called them back together for a debriefing. All eyes had fallen to him and Dr. Strange. They were the ones who'd traversed the Warp. But Peter felt a growing nausea in the pit of his stomach, unrelated to the time in the Warp.

He felt his guts twist sharply as Fury leveled his stare at him.

"Now, my resources say that you were the first to make contact with these people. Am I correct?" Fury asked.

Peter nodded his head nervously. "Mmhmm, uh, yes, sir."

"And your contact was over two months ago."

"Yes, sir!"

"So why has it taken two months for me to be made aware of this situation?" Fury said, his eye flitting quickly across the other avengers in the room before settling back on Peter.

"Well, uh, you see, uh, I tried – I really did. I had Ned try to make contact, but we were shut down every time," Peter said, his nerves making him trip over his tongue.

Fury directed his gaze toward Stark.

"Uh, I did try to keep tabs on them. I guess, I sorta lost them. They, uh, the hospital, I dunno. The police got involved and none of us could track them down," said Peter.

Fury continued looking pointedly at Stark.

"And what sort of message did you send?" Fury as Peter, not breaking eye contact with Stark.

"I'd sent it through Ned. Uh – he normally can break through all sorts of firewalls and safety features, but, uh, we actually tried you first, Director Fury, sir. Ned kept getting bounced back. So then Ned also tried Mr. Stark, but he didn't respond," Peter replied, sending Stark a "please forgive me" look.

"Look, Fury," Stark began.

"Director Fury."

"-Director Fury, look. We all messed up in the beginning. Your people didn't let Peter's call through. My systems didn't receive it, either. That's the past. We have them now. What are we doing with them from here?" Stark said.

Fury nodded his head. "Let's start with what we do know. Romanov?"

"I have spent time investigating Commissar Kasia Poltava," the spy announced. "She, along with the one Enginseer Linux and Samuel Trembley, have no records. Those names fail to return any results in terms of identity on any system."

"Do you think they could be aliases?" Barton asked.

"It's unlikely. I've run facial recognition programs anticipating that. No matches.

"I've had the chance to speak with Poltava. Stark had been concerned. Her name and accent suggests someone with Slavic ancestry. She speaks as though she is new to the language and carries an accent, but one that is different from Russian, Ukrainian, Estonian, Belarusian, or any of those other Slavic families. And she did speak her language to me. It was… strange."

Romanov shot a glance at Stark. "You and Parker both mentioned it sounded like some sort of pseudo-Latin, and it sounds like you weren't too far off. But, it was layered with elements of other languages."

"Like Esperanto?" Banner suggested.

"A little. It was definitely different than anything I've ever heard spoken on earth."

"Anything else regarding Poltava?" asked Fury.

"Yes. She referred to something called a "homeworld." She named it "Vostroya."

Fury nodded. "Goes along with the Slavic theme."

"That's what I thought, too, sir. Apart from the language, it sounds like the Vostroyans share other slavisms culturally.

"Poltava also discussed with me what her title means," said Romanov.

"Commissar?" asked Fury.

"Yes," replied Romanov. "It's very similar to what we know commissars to be: political officers, rather than military, with the duty of "keeping morale."" Romanov paused, a strange expression crossing her features. "She also appears to profess a deep faith in a "God-Emperor." It appears to be a state religion."

"Very good. Do we have information from the others that support this?" asked Fury.

"I had time to speak with Linux a bit," Banner offered softly. "He had technology of the likes I've never seen." He cast a glance to Stark. "Honestly, Tony, some of it puts your work to shame. But he mentioned an organization. The "Adeptus Mechanicus of Mars" was what he called it."

"Mars?" asked Rogers. "Like, "little green men from Mars," Mars?"

"Hey, at least that sounds like a planet we know," Clint mused.

"Yes, Mars," said Banner. "He is… very different from the others. It's almost like he believes in this… I don't know, "cult of science?" The way he speaks of it, it almost sounds like a religion."

"Well, the Commissar did call him "Tech Priest" once. I don't think you're too far off there," remarked Stark.

"That's half of them. Anyone have information on Samuel Trembley?" asked Fury.

"Only what I was able to pick up from the recent hospital reports," responded Romanov. "Looks human, but he has an extremely rare genetic mutation. They don't have a name for it, and they haven't been able to correspond any further symptoms with it, only the manifestation of purple irises."

Fury raised a brow.

"His charts said they were natural. He's also a bilateral above-knee amputee. His records state he has a lot of war paraphernalia."

"The Commissar referred to him as "Guardsman," correct?" Fury asked.

"That's right," said Romanov.

"Did we ever find out how old he was?" asked Fury.

"I did," Peter said, piping in. "He said he was "17 Terran years.""

Clint whistled. "Damn. So, they use child soldiers wherever they're from?"

"That's how it appears," remarked Fury. "Do we know anything more about him?" Fury said, looking at Peter.

Great. Now the attention was on him.

"Uh, before we were pulled into the Warp, I think they were trying to blend in. Sam said he'd got a job as a grave digger, and he'd learned better English than the first time I'd met any of them."

Fury nodded. "And what of Mirqurios?"

Peter frowned. "He's… new. I know Sam doesn't trust him, but I feel like he kept us safe while we were stuck in that place – in the Warp."

"Indeed. He manifested strange abilities, not unlike my own," Dr. Strange added.

"Can you tell us more about these… abilities?" asked Fury.

"From my experience, he seems to be rather psychically oriented. He could create signals and wards strong enough to rival my own."

Fury nodded, turning his gaze back to Peter.

"Anything to add?"

Peter breathed. "He- we-," he shook his head. Should he tell Fury about the moment where Mirqurios possessed Sam? Could he tell him? As much as Mirqurios protected them there, Sam look of betrayal still cut him. "He does possess powers. Apparently being in the Warp awakened some kind of power or something within Sam, and Mirqurios… Mirqurios, I dunno, he, like, possessed Sam for a little bit while we were there?"

There. He said it. For good or ill, at least the rest of the Avengers would know what they're up against.

"Do either of you think he can do that here?" asked Fury.

Dr. Strange took a breath. "It's not unlikely. It's possible that the Warp was amplifying his powers – I felt stronger there, too. He also has some amount of control over his shape. He appeared as a red raven within the Warp. I do not know if he continues to possess either ability here in the real world," mused Dr. Strange.

Fury looked at Peter. "Do you agree with that statement?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, sir. He was a red raven the entire time – he would communicate with us telepathically. But here, well, when we came back to Earth, he became a person and he started talking. Without telepathy," Peter added.

"So, we know some smalls things about our guests down in the cells," voiced Fury. "We know that they're not from Earth. We know they come from a technologically advanced culture. We know they are deeply religious. We know that they are military. We know that they appear human. And we know that they have superpowers. What we don't know is their purpose here."

"When I first met Linux, and even again Sam told me, too, they said they were pulled through the Warp. That they're not supposed to be here. I guess kinda like just happened with me and Sam?" said Peter.

"But do you know? How do you know that you can trust their words?" remarked Fury.

"I, uh, well, I don't. I guess it's a leap of faith. They haven't really come across as hostile. And they've been trying to learn a little about us, I think."

"And are you so sure that their desire to learn about us comes from a general goodwill and not some ulterior motive? Are you so sure that they are not agents of some alien power trying to take over Earth?" Fury chided.

Peter shook his head. He hadn't really thought about that. Weren't spies a thing of the Cold War and before that? Sleeper agents weren't really a serious thing, especially not in today's climate. But what if they were vanguard of some expeditionary forces? Like space conquistadors? They seemed human enough; he even recollected how Sam had spoke of his disgust for the "Xenos" threat.

"I… I can't say for certain. But, I believe they can be reasoned with. Their religion – it revolves around someone they called the "God-Emperor of Mankind." I think – with a title like that – I think they are determined to protect humanity," Peter responded.

"Well, then," began Fury, a mockery of a smile beginning to grow on his face, "If you are so certain, let's have a little chat with them. Parker, Rogers, and Stark? With me. The rest of you are dismissed. I think we'll keep this a little quiet."

The Avengers – that's what they'd been called – had taken them down to these holding cells. Peter was one of these Avengers. It was strange. Those agents, they had dumped them in these cells. He supposed it was supposed to be like a prison, but they were clean and spacious. Nothing that he'd ever equate to any arbites.

Everything was minimalist and sterile.

Clean.

There were thick glass walls that separated Sam from Mirqurios, Linux, and Poltava. They were thick, but not frosted, and he could still see his allies.

He leaned back on the bed in his cell and stared up. There was a small device on the ceiling just outside the cell. Small and black with a tiny pinpoint red dot of light.

"The Abominable Intelligence calls it "Security Camera." This machine has a simple spirit, one that is cousin to the vid-picters of the Imperium," Linux had explained. The agents had promptly yelled at Linux for speaking in code. It was only Gothic. Every spoke it. At least, everyone used to speak it. Or maybe now will speak it?

Sam continued staring at the security picter. He frowned. Sure, these facilities were nice, but he could tell he wasn't the only one made anxious by it all. The Avengers were thorough. They'd confiscated their weapons and supplies. Diligently, each and every one of them had been isolated and given a pat-down.

As servants of the Imperium, they were all not pleased about being separated from their weapons. Well, all excluding Mirqurios. He didn't seem to have any weapons on him, but Sam recalled the powers manifested within the Warp and supposed that the thing – the man? – was dangerous enough even without anything.

Poltava had given up her bolt pistol more willingly than her plasma sword. She appeared to understand the need for separation: the lack of trust from the agents. The bolt pistol offered willingly, he supposed, must have been her interpretation of a measure of good will.

But the plasma sword? From the short time he'd known her, it was in this instance where she seemed actually distressed. To anyone else, she'd been tight-lipped and severe, a fury boiling beneath the surface, but he could see her rage and distress. When they were free – they were going to be freed, he hoped – he would ask her about it.

Linux, on the other hand, Sam saw that the Avengers hardly knew what to do with. He refused to be parted with his mechadendrites and resisted by refusing to offer the agents any assistance while they attempted to remove the limbs. If anything, he impeded their efforts by twitching the mechadendrites from time to time. Joined to the tech-priest by Martian engineering and sacred rite, those limbs were as intimately attached to the Enginseer as his own natural limbs. Without knowing the canticles and rites of the Mechanicus, neither that agent nor anyone else would be able to remove them. It would appear that while these new agents under Fury were curious about them, they weren't going to resort to vivisection. At least, not yet.

Sam was still upset by the whole intake ordeal, too. It had started simple enough: give up arms, submit to pat down. He'd seen Poltava go through it with minimal event. Obediently, he presented his lasgun. Not only had they confiscated his weapons, those agents had further isolated him the moment they felt his legs. Had they never seen prosthetics before? They'd wanted to take them from him to examine them – to study how they worked – but it was one of the Avengers – Captain America – who had stepped in and argued to let him keep his legs.

They had wanted to take his legs! As if everything else wasn't enough.

And the glass was too thick – it made communication almost impossible. He could see his allies, but he couldn't talk to them. Linux, he thought bitterly, still had his vox-bead. Of course, it was practically interwoven in to the tech-priest's form. Those agents hardly knew what was vital and what was ancillary when it came to Linux. Casting a glance at the Enginseer, Sam saw that he was meditating or something.

Poltava, however, was much like him, he supposed. She wore a deep scowl on her face. Her hands were clasped before her, and he noted how the digits twitched every so often. She was in thought.

They been down in these cells for some time now, the dull moments fading into the next. A noise interrupted their quiet meditations, and Sam looked up. It was the steady clicking of shoes on the floor. The agents made their way past the other's cells before stopping at his own. They produced a keycard.

"Come with us," an agent said.

Sam blinked a couple times, looking around. "Wha-? My commissar?"

"You alone," the agent replied, locking some cuffs around his wrists before transporting him to another room.

In the room sat several other people. He recognized Peter, the Captain, and the other man who'd seemed so protective of Peter.

The three adult figures exuded authority, though each had their own. The well-built blonde Captain reminded him of another Cadian commander he once knew. It was a dignified authority, commanded and leadership from trial under fire. He could respect that. The man seated on the other side of the central figure held a more casual presence. Laid-back, his form signaling that Sam meant nothing to him.

The central figure, however, exuded power. The man sat there, unperturbed by the sounds of the agents escorting him inside. He carried an air of what he'd seen in certain high-generals from afar. While he'd never had the chance to interact – being both too young and too raw – he recognized the man for what he was: in charge.

This man was the first to speak.

"Take a seat, son," he said, gesturing to the empty seat immediately across.

He did.

He found himself face to face with the man.

"You said you were an Army man."

It wasn't a question. Sam felt obliged to answer nonetheless.

"That is correct, sir."

"And just who did you serve with?"

An odd question, Sam thought as he slid a glance at the patches and emblems on his uniform.

"With the Cadian 1214th, officially. I was a Whiteshield for two Terran years prior, and in Schola before that."

"What country?"

Sam blinked. "For Terra. For the Imperium of Mankind."

The man's scowl deepened. Had he said something wrong?

"What's the Cadian 1214th. And I know it's a regiment, son. I've seen my share of Army men."

"It's one of the regiments from my homeworld, sir. Cadia."

The man leaned forward in his seat, his eyes boring deep into Sam's own. It unnerved him, and Sam was the first to flinch. The man sat back.

"Don't sound like you're from Earth, then, does it."

"No, sir. Both my parents were guardsmen from Cadia. It's in the Cadia sector," Sam added upon seeing a glint of confusion. "But, I am fully human, like any true citizen of the Imperium."

"And all Imperial citizens have purple eyes?" the man asked skeptically.

Sam blushed at this. It was the one thing that set Cadians apart from the rest of their Imperial kin.

"No, sir. Only us Cadians. They say it's from being born too close to the Warp. But that's it. Fully human. No signs of Warp-taint."

The man nodded to himself, most likely taking as many notes as he could, Sam thought. Still, it wasn't like he'd shared anything outside of standard Imperial knowledge.

"You're rather young lookin', too. How old did you say you were?" the man asked.

"17," Sam replied.

"Young, indeed," the man remarked. "Most kids your age would still be in school. Did your parents say anything on that?"

"No, sir. My mother was killed in service to the Emperor on Cadia. My father was serving off-world. But he sent his congratulations after I earned my place with the 1214th. And – I was in schola – I did complete it before enlisting."

The man leaned back, casting a knowing look at the two men by his side.

"This "schola,"" the man said, testing the word, "What does it entail?"

"Schola? It's… it's like a school."

"I know that much. What did they teach you there?"

"Uh," Nervously, Sam reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "We were schooled in the basics of what we would need to know for life, no matter which path we chose. We were taught to read and write Low Gothic, basic arithmetic, the history of the Imperium…" Sam said, trailing off, casting a glance down. He paused for a moment, recollecting his thoughts before looking back at the man. "Really, just normal things. It prepared me for life with the Guard, though I had some friends who pursued other occupations."

The man nodded almost imperceptibly.

"There is another thing," the man said. "A little rumor has suggested you might have powers."

Sam blanched at the accusation. "No! I have nothing of the sort! I am no psyker, only a normal human!"

The man cast a quick look to the man who'd embraced Peter earlier.

"What, exactly, is a psyker?" the man asked.

Sam steeled himself, forcing himself to beat down his emotions. He wasn't a psyker. It was a fluke of the Warp. He mustn't let anyone know. "A psyker," he began, his voice calmer, steadier, "is someone who has Warp-powers. They… they can be devastating on the battlefield, but they are dangerous. They are under constant threat of mutation, of Chaos corruption. The… the power that Dr. Strange had used to make his portal – it was very similar to a psyker's ability."

The man nodded his head.

"And you fear being a psyker."

Sam did not respond. Of course he feared being a psyker! How many of them went mad with power before succumbing to Warp corruption! Or those horror stories of the Black Ships, come to take people away! No, he was no psyker. Anything that the creature Mirqurios suggested was false. He spoke of lies. He could not be a psyker.

The man's lips curled into a small smile before he waved a hand, gesturing for the agents to lead Sam back to his cell.

Poltava was in her cell, reciting silent litanies to the Emperor. She'd hoped she'd made the right decision by complying with these people. They had stripped them of their gear, they had taken her sword! It was her father's and her father's father and so on, passed down a long line of Vostroyan commissars. She knew she shouldn't let something sentimental like a simple sword get to her, but between that, being cast into this strange Terran past, and now being virtually separated from her last ties to the Imperium she knew, it was weighing on her.

She thumbed another bead on her rosary. It was a simple thing, unlike the powerful amulets of Chaplains. It did not provide any earthly protection, merely solace for her own tumultuous thoughts. The little aquila grounded her.

There was a sound, and she looked up to see Trembley return, hands cuffed and flanked by two of those agents. She knew he could have easily taken them – any of their three could have taken those agents with ease, she mused to herself – but hope for peace between fellow humans tempered their martial spirits.

She watched them maneuver Trembley back to his cell before moving on.

Her.

They were coming for her.

She steeled her features, obediently offering her hands, her compliance.

They led her through hallways and into a room with four people in it. She recognized Stark and the Captain America. She guessed that the kid in the back was likely that Peter Parker, the one who'd been lost with Samuel.

But the man in the center? He was unknown.

"Have a seat," the man said, gesturing to the metal chair seated opposite himself.

She acquiesced.

"The least you could do is let these cuffs off," she remarked, holding up her bound hands as she sat.

A ghost of a smile played on the man's lips as he huffed a half-laugh. "Not going to happen."

She nodded curtly, accepting the decision.

"You said you were in the middle of an assault before arriving here. Mind telling me more about it?"

Kasia studied him for a brief moment. He was there to conduct an interrogation, likely trying to decide if they could trust her and her men. But, on the other side of the token, could she trust them in return?

"On Vegzet 1. I was the Commissar attached to the Cadian 1214th. Under the command of Explorator Gieron, our regiment was to aid the Mechanicus forces in securing a relic."

She paused, thinking of what to give and what to hold safe.

"Tell me: what do you know of the relic?" the man asked.

She shook her head. "That was not of my concern. The relic is an artifact that I can only assume holds great significance for the Mechanicus, but if it were a lost technology, it could possibly bolster the entirety of the Imperium."

"And, Commissar Poltava, what is your place in the Imperium?"

"I am but a servant of the Emperor's will. I live to inspire those brave men and women in my charge."

"And his will?"

"For the continued safety of humanity. That humans, no matter where they were born, can live safely and peacefully without the threat of xenos aggression. We of the Astra Militarum are that first line of defense, and we offer ourselves fully and truly for the sake of our fellow men."

"An honorable mission."

"Thank you, but while prospects of honor and glory may be tools to inspire my men, that is not what I seek."

The man raised an eye. "Really, now?"

"Indeed. I fight today in the hope that the children of my future may one day live in peace in the eternal protection of the Emperor."

"Then it would appear our goals are not too dissimilar," the man said, flashing a quick smile. "There is no Emperor here. You speak of humanity as a united front. Our world is divided. Nations war with each other."

Kasia harrumphed. "I remember from my own years in schola. I think such a time was called the Age of Strife?" Kasia shook her head. "No, but that is beside the point."

"You say you come from a time where mankind is united and struggling to hold off the threat of… xenos? Well, mankind is divided, but the alien threat is growing."

This time, Kasia raised her eye.

"We've had issues in the past, events that have woken us from our delusion of safety. The galaxy isn't as small as many would have us believe."

Kasia nodded, her lips curling into a small smile. "It seems we may not be so different after all."

"I'm releasing you back to your cell, now, but I trust you have plenty to think on."

"I will," Kasia replied as she let the agents lead her back.

It had gone somewhat better than she had expected. The man, had he been born within the Imperium, likely would have made it far.

Another time…

Linux looked up. The agents had returned with the Commissar. From cursory scans, he could detect that no harm had come to her. That was well. It would have been a waste if she had been damaged in any way.

The agents had turned their attention toward himself. It appeared as though they did not quite know what to make of him. He had seen them place handcuffs around Trembley and Poltava. The next logical assumption would be that they intended to cuff him as well and lead him off. Following their gaze, he surmised that they were unsure of how to neutralize his mechadendrites.

"Give us your hands," an agent ordered. He did as commanded. Resistance would be illogical. No gains were to be had should he resist.

"Alright, easy. Got the taser ready?" one agent spoke quickly and softly to the other.

"Unnecessary. Resisting you fails to benefit me," Linux stated in this Terra's common.

The agents exchanged a look before roughly ushering him forward.

They led him into a room. Solid. Plain. Single entry. One-way mirror. Their interactions would be observed.

He passed three seated individuals and one youth standing near the door. Two of the individuals he knew. Stark of the heretical technologies, and the Captain.

They boy he'd seen before, when the Guardsman reappeared with the psyker and the Engima.

The agents passed him deeper into the room. The four would block his way should he try to escape from the door.

The man, he noticed, had his attention fixed on him.

"Would you mind removing your hood, so we might talk face to face?" the man asked. "I like to know the face of who I talk to."

Linux brought two mechanized limbs to the sides of his hood. With religious deliberation, he lowered the red and black accented fabric from his head. His optics shown clearly now, his eyes both replaced long ago with the green cybernetic augments. His mouth remained hidden by the rebreather strapped to his face. His dark hair, shorn close to his skull, showed the traceries of scars. One appeared medical in nature, curving from the frontal, gliding through the temporal, and ending back near the occipital lobes. Small gauge wires snaked from the different lobes. Some went to where his ears should have been, again replaced with audio-receivers, and a few sparse others were woven together, snaking down below the fabric of the red robes. He knew that those where but ancillary connections to his cyber-mantle. They didn't.

The man, to Linux's mild surprise, concealed his perturbation well.

"I've been hearing different things about you, Enginseer," the man stated, purposefully using his title. Linux did not engage the situation.

"Word has it that you're from the future. That you had been looking for something."

"Affirmative."

"When?"

"999.M41."

"What were you searching for?"

"The specifications of the Artifact were not revealed to me."

"What was your purpose on the mission, if you had no idea of what you were looking for."

"My role was clear: Enginseer."

"And what does being "Enginseer" entail?"

"Ministering the Sacred Rites to the Machine Spirits during combat."

"Sounds like a heavy duty. Tell me: are there many more like you?"

"Affirmative."

"Is this now, or in your time?"

"In 999.M41. Enginseers are commonly attached to guard companies."

"Your commissar mentioned something about an "Explorator Gieron" earlier. Who is he?"

"He was our leader until our unforeseen separation. He commanded one of the Exploration Fleets within the Adeptus Mechanicus navy."

"Your commissar spoke of loyalties to a human Imperium. What is this Adeptus Mechanicus?"

"Nothing further that you need know, only that it is aligned in the mission of the Imperium," Linux replied. The questions were becoming tedious. He had better things to do with his time.

"I think I do need to know. You say you're aligned with the Imperium, but in what way? What are you willing to give us to prove your good faith?"

"Why must we prove our goodness to you? We are not the ones who locked up other humans on suspicion."

"But you have illegally entered our territories, armed with strange weapons. You can't tell me that such an action wouldn't give you or your leaders concern either."

"This is Terra. It is within Imperial Territories. We are within our rights to be here."

"Your Imperium doesn't exist," the man bit, his voice colored by tension. "Not now. You're here on my Earth, in my country, and I will do what it takes to ensure that my people are safe. You either play by my rules, or you welcome the long sleep."

Linux stared at the man for a moment, letting a silence fall between them.

"I'll ask you one more time: What is the Adeptus Mechanicus?"

"It is the core governing body of science and technology within the Imperium. It does not adhere to all Imperial codes, but it has been a consistent ally in the Imperium's time of need."

"Very good. That wasn't so hard now, was it?" the man asked rhetorically. "So, tell me more. You've got some interesting gadgets on you. We've been kind enough to leave you intact. Mind enlightening us to some of their functions? Maybe share some of that knowledge for the greater good of humanity?"

Linux shook his head. "Negative. All technology is protected by the ministrations of the Adeptus Mechanicus. No other Departmento is permitted knowledge of the Sancta Machina."

"Then, perhaps we can work out… other arrangements. Think on it."

The man dismissed Linux back to his cell.

The interrogations had been taxing, especially that last one with Mirqurios, Stark thought to himself.

Fury assembled them all in the conference room once more. He wanted to review the new facts and make a decision. If they were dangerous, he was going to want them locked up safe and secured as soon as possible. But if they could be useful? Then, again, he wanted to know. Tony knew he'd want to know if he were the ones making decisions. At the same time, he also didn't want to have the responsibility of holding anyone on his property for any long length of time. It was something that didn't fully sit right with him.

Fury stood at the head of the table in the conference room.

"The goal of this meeting is to determine whether or not these "Imperial" citizens are a threat. You were all there when the interrogations were conducted. Tell me: what are your opinions of these uninvited guests?" Fury asked.

There was silence while the heroes thought.

"Commissar Poltava has potential, as does Guardsman Trembley. They seem like good soldiers, even good people at heart," the Captain said first.

"But what of their fanaticism? Their loyalty to the Imperium of man? I think that could pose a pretty big problem," replied Stark.

"That's true, but I think we can use that to our advantage. They don't seem quite as rigid as that Enginseer. I think we can use their dedication for humanity to help us defend against other threats," voiced Romanov.

"What of the Enginseer? He's secretive of his knowledge, and pretty resist and stubborn, too. He's not a team player. I know I had a hard-enough time as it was trying to get anything out of him," said Tony.

"Okay, but did you ever try talking to him?" asked Banner.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I did. He yelled at me and called me a heretic. Something something my JARVIS is an abomination and should be purged in the name of the machine god or whatever," Tony replied.

"But did you ever try understanding him?" Banner tried again.

"No! He would have nothing to do with me, and, quite frankly, if he's gonna be like that, I wouldn't want to share my designs with him, either."

Banner sighed. "I found him doing maintenance once, and he let me watch. He never explained precisely what he was doing, but his maintenance was ritualistic. I think, with patience, we might be able to learn more about Enginseer Linux and turn him into an asset."

"Okay, that's all good, but what about those psyker powers? Trembley was denying he had them, but when we questioned Mirqurios, he affirmed it. We've got two bogies of unknown danger potential. I don't think we can just let these guys walk around," remarked Clint.

A couple others voiced their affirmations of Barton's statement.

Fury's voice rose above the others. "Doctor Strange," he began, resting his gaze upon the magical doctor. The voices fell silent. "You are the Sorcerer Supreme. Mirqurios and Samuel Trembley are yours. If they are at all magically capable, it is within your jurisdiction to end the threat, is it not?"

Strange returned Fury a solemn nod.

"Good. You'll keep them in line. I'll expect regular reports from you."

"Wait, but sir! Samuel Trembley is a child," began Captain America.

"Indeed. Which is why the responsibility will fall to our good Doctor to ensure that he is enrolled with a school program to facilitate his transition into our society," Fury replied.

"Uh, actually, sir? Can I make a suggestion?" Peter piped up from the back.

Fury raised a brow. Peter hesistated. "Well, go on! Don't make us wait forever."

"Oh! Uh, well, I figured since we're both kids, uh, more or less, that maybe if Sam was enrolled in school with me, since, y'know, I've kinda sort of known him since August and then there was the whole Warp-"

"Get to the point, Parker," Fury bit.

"Right! Uh, yessir. So, I think if Sam and I went to school, I could help him with both the regular teen stuff and hero stuff. Sir," Peter finished

"Noted," Fury said, returning his attention back to the others. "Now, what of the Commissar and the Enginseer?"

"I think that if they get some help in the transition process, they can be productive members of society," said the Captain.

"Okay, and who's going to do that? I don't think the Enginseer will ever be able to fit in. Give the Commissar a change of clothes, but the Enginseer? Nuh-uh," said Stark.

"The Commissar is a key part of their relationships. You saw it. The Guardsman looks up to her, and even the Enginseer gives some small grudging amount of respect. The Commissar with help the Enginseer. Heck, she might even help Banner get some schematics or something," replied the Captain.

"Now you're dreaming," Stark replied, shaking his head. "I think one of us would need to watch the Enginseer. Keep him under our thumb until we know that he's not going to build a robot army or something."

"Yeah, because it's not like you would ever do the same," snarked Barton.

Tony shot Clint a glare before Fury ended the fight that had yet to begin.

"I think we now know what to do with these visitors. Shall we officially offer them our welcome?" Fury asked, gesturing the heroes to follow him down to the cells.

Sam looked up as he heard footsteps again. He noted that the others noticed the noises, too, and were looking on expectantly.

The man from the interrogation was the first to enter the cellblock, though he was soon flanked by the Captain, the other man, and several other people.

"Good. You're all still awake. We've reached a consensus," the man said.

"What will you do with us?" Commissar Poltava asked.

"We have agreed to grant you certain liberties – with constraints," said the man.

Sam shot his commissar a look. With constraints? What did that mean? Were the free to go? Or something else? He snuck a glance at the Enginseer, but Linux was impassive as usual.

"Commissar Kasia Poltava and Enginseer Linux," the man announced in a strong voice. "Stark," the man tossed a brief glance at the man flanking him, "Has generously agreed to allow you continued residence here in the Avengers Tower. You will have access to your own private quarters and amenities as you have been during this past week during the search for Parker and Trembley."

"No. Absolutely not," Poltava said, giving her head a quick shake. "We have our own place. We shall live independently."

The man's expression did not change. Rather, he stood in silence for a brief second. "Would you consent to having a daily house-call from one of the Avengers in order to ease your transition into the customs of our society?" he asked, a vaguely threatening tone in his voice.

The Commissar stood in her cell in silence. One could almost see her mind thinking. Deliberately, she cast a glance at Linux. Finally, she spoke. "That would be agreeable."

The man nodded. "Mirqurios and Sam," he announced anew. "You are to reside with Doctor Strange in his Sanctum Sanctorum. He will tutor you and again aid in your transition into our society."

Sam shot an uneasy look at his commissar. Be further separated from his regiment? And be sent to live with that… that Warp-spawn? No!

"That sounds agreeable," replied Mirqurios, a strange look in his green eye.

"Absolutely not," replied Commissar Poltava. "I request that Guardsman Trembley not be further separated from his unit."

"Will you arrange for schooling?" asked the man.

"Schola? He's graduated schola. There is no need for that. He's entirely capable," said Poltava.

"No, high school. It's where kids 14-18 go to learn. If Trembley is to live with you and the Enginseer, he will be required to attend Midtown High School during the day and see Doctor Strange afterward."

Poltava stood in silence again. If it meant being with his Commissar and Linux again…

"I agreed," said Sam.

"Very good, then. The matter is settled. And you all?" Fury said, turning his attention to the Avengers as he made to exit the room, "Remember: I expect your reports."

AN: I apologize for the delay in posting. Life got busy.