Chapter 75

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Chapter 75

"All hands, secure," a voice came over the intercom. "The USS Flying Dutchman is about to take off. Fasten your seatbelts, kids. We're expecting a rough ride."

The former Chitauri mothership rumbled to life, the sensation of liftoff reminding Steve of his first bouncing takeoff from a barley field in a P-51 Mustang. The ship had been informally christened the USS Flying Dutchman after a famous pirate ghost ship, a fitting name for a ship which had been stolen. The Avengers marched in silence as a unit from the briefing room into the bowels of the ship. Steve. Tony. Thor. And Clint. Only Banner was missing, sleeping off his latest stint as the Hulk so he would be ready for the next battle.

Colonel Rhodes moved to the right of Tony Stark's shoulder, his wing man. It reminded Steve of the way Bucky Barnes had watched his back before the Chitauri had turned him into a machine. A wave of nostalgia gripped his gut. He did not know what was worse. Thinking Bucky was dead all these years. Or learning that Bucky was still alive. Thor watched the interaction with envy.

"Will Asgard provide any assistance?" Steve asked Thor.

"The Allfather says there are rules that must be followed." Thor's brow furrowed with frustration. "I do not understand these rules when the matters which hath given rise to them are kept a secret from me."

Given his peculiar interactions with Peggy, Steve could share Thor's frustration with 'rules' that allowed dabbling in the affairs of mortals, but no outright interference. Why had he been sent back from the dead a handful of times when others had been allowed to die?

"You are allowed to interfere," Steve said. "Why?"

"It has something to do with my mother," Thor shrugged. "Although whenever I ask her about it, she grows strangely silent." The God of Thunder glanced over to where Tony Stark and Colonel Rhodes were bantering over their almost-matching armor like two best girlfriends gossiping about the latest fashion trends. He looked … lost.

A pair of Marines guarded the control room. A door that had been designed for a much larger species slid open, giving them access to the pilot. Steve winced as he spotted her laying there like a sacrificial offering, black wires jutting from her arms and legs. Count Rugen fretted over her like a mother hen, offering her a sip of water from a straw. Images jumped into Steve's mind.

Jacquie. Friend. Pain. Sorry. Not know pain.

Steve stood so she could see him, the drone helmet Tony had jury-rigged to enhance the physiological changes the Other's nanovirus had wrought in her brain making it too unwieldy for her to turn her head. Without her red-and-black striped hair, she hardly even looked human anymore.

"Jacquie … are you okay?"

"Never better." She gave him a thin, wan smile as she moved her arm to grasp his hand. The engines lurched to starboard, throwing everybody off balance. "Sorry. Probably shouldn't do that. I'm still not very good at signaling which movement is something I want the ship to replicate and which is just me scratching my ass."

Steve looked to Count Rugen. "How did you figure out Jacquie could fly this thing?"

Image. Bernice. The Count was agitated.

"Bernice? She's alive!" He grabbed Count Rugen, unwittingly shaking his grey-skinned alien friend in his excitement. "Where?"

Count Rugen gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, attempting to communicate he did not know any more than that. Whenever Steve was upset, or excited as he was right now, his ability to receive images deteriorated.

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