Chapter 56: Ch 55: The Lemurian Star Hijack XV
Appearing silently on a high vantage point railing, Veritas scanned the uppermost deck of the ship to take in the situation.
Down near the edge of the ship, the S.H.I.E.L.D. commandos were just finishing ushering the last of the rescued hostages into the emergency lifeboats.
Having secured the civilians, the heavily armed tactical teams were now fanning out, rifles raised, clearly circling back to support their patriotic captain.
However, both Captain America and Batroc were currently nowhere to be seen.
BOOM!
A sudden, violent but small explosion blew the doors off the server room on the other side of the ship - the very room where Luke had shared a wonderfully tense little chat with Natasha Romanoff earlier.
Through the billowing black smoke, a figure came sprinting out onto the deck.
It was Batroc.
The French mercenary looked incredibly beat up. He was panting heavily, his purple-and-gold tactical vest was covered in soot, and his left hand was clamped tightly over his right bicep. Dark red blood leaked through his fingers from a fresh, nasty bullet wound.
Knowing Captain America’s style, that bullet had almost certainly come from Black Widow.
Still, for a guy with a brand-new hole in his arm, Batroc was making excellent time.
"Where the fuck are you, Veritas?!" Batroc yelled frantically into the night, hopelessly scanning the upper decks as he stumbled forward. "I’m dying out here!"
A split second later, Captain America emerged from the smoking ruins of the server room.
Steve whipped his arm forward, hurling his vibranium shield with lethal precision right at the fleeing mercenary’s back.
The heavy metal disc slammed brutally between Batroc’s shoulder blades.
With a choked gasp, the mercenary was swept right off his feet, eating the steel deck and skidding forward on his face. The vibranium shield ricocheted flawlessly off his spine, bouncing backward through the air right into Cap’s waiting hand.
Steve didn’t slow down. He leaped into the air, fist pulled back, ready to deliver one final punch that would put Batroc out of commission for good.
Lying flat on his back, a battered and deeply panicked Batroc threw his bare palm up over his face, as if a single, trembling hand could somehow stop a falling super-soldier.
In a moment of pure, unadulterated desperation, Batroc screamed at the top of his lungs:
"VERITAAAAS!!!!"
Veritas manifested directly between the airborne Captain America and the downed Batroc - exactly as he had done about six minutes ago. His palms were already raised, aimed squarely at Cap’s shield. The gloved hands glowed a threatening orange.
Steve Rogers felt a massive wave of déjà vu wash over him. He knew exactly what those glowing hands meant. Without missing a beat, Steve quickly tucked his knees in, raising his vibranium shield and rolling his body into a tight ball.
BOOOOOOM!
A massive, concussive explosion rocked the deck, and Captain America was sent flying backward through the air.
As Steve hit the steel deck and skidded to a sparking halt, Veritas casually strolled forward, lowering his hands. "I believe I already told you once, Captain. You don’t get to hurt my best friend."
Steve slowly pushed himself back up, shaking his head in tired exasperation. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I know."
Suddenly, a bruised and battered Spider-Woman dropped down from above, landing right beside the Captain with a neat, albeit slightly shaky flip.
Steve glanced over at her, his heart sinking. He felt a deep, heavy pang of guilt.
This was unexpected. She had been so confident about taking on Veritas. Steve had seen the footage of their fights himself, and although in the las one she’d struggled, she’d insisted her new suit would protect her this time. So how did...
No. It didn’t matter. She was still just a kid, he should never have let her face Veritas alone.
Veritas turned his head slightly toward Batroc. "Batroc, get out of here. I’ll handle them."
Batroc didn’t need to be told twice. Nodding frantically, the French mercenary scrambled to his feet and skittered away. Unfortunately, heading in a very, very bad direction.
As Batroc scurried off, Black Widow quietly slipped out of the smoke, raising her batons as she joined Captain America and Spider-Woman, standing a few feet behind them.
Veritas faced the three heroes, taking them in. Spider-Woman looked like she had just survived a localized natural disaster. Steve looked a little singed and dusty here and there but was otherwise fine. Natasha, meanwhile, barely had a single scratch on her.
"You know, I had a very peaceful evening planned for tonight," Veritas said, letting out a dramatic, theatrical sigh. "I was planning on doing a good deed, helping out my best friend, leaving quickly, and sleeping peacefully. But you guys just had to go and ruin everything."
Natasha couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Doing a good deed and sleeping peacefully? He was literally saying this after committing a televised act of global terrorism. What a big fucking joke.
But then again, he was the Jester. Madness was his brand.
"But... it’s not like I don’t understand your perspective," Veritas continued, raising his hands philosophically. "To you, I’m the bad guy. To me, S.H.I.E.L.D. is the bad guy. It’s all just a matter of perspective, really... And I can simply end yours."
BOOM!
He blasted toward them at sonic speed, his trajectory a chaotic, unpredictable pinball of explosive bursts. Gwen’s Spider-Sense screamed.
Seeing the danger, Steve instantly stepped right in front of Gwen, raising his shield to guard her.
But mid-flight, the Jester vanished into thin air.
He reappeared directly in front of Black Widow.
His palm was already touching her neck.
"Nothing personal, Agent Romanoff," he whispered. "You’re just the only one here who isn’t without any injuries... And that feels unfair to the others."
He wrapped his gloved fingers securely around her neck, fired a massive burst of propulsion from his elbow, and "gently" threw her right over the ship’s railing.
"Natasha!" Steve yelled.
While Steve processed the throw, Gwen had already leaped off the ship’s edge to rescue Nat. Leaving Cap alone with Veritas.
And then Veritas turned with an unholy black grin on his white jester mask...
"Alright, one down—"
"FREEZE!"
Heavy boots thundered across the steel deck. A full squad of S.H.I.E.L.D. commandos stormed into view - from the exact direction Batroc had fled moments earlier. Rifles raised and pointing towards Veritas.
Veritas stood frozen, his glowing hands dimming as he took in the scene before him.
The reason for his sudden pause became immediately clear. The S.H.I.E.L.D. commandos weren’t just arriving to join the fight - they had brought a prisoner with them.
Batroc was being dragged forward, his arms wrenched behind his back and secured with heavy metal cuffs. His head hung low, but his face was boiling red with pure, unfiltered rage. A commando stood behind him, the barrel of a rifle pressed firmly against the back of his skull.
"Drop on your knees!" the lead commando barked, his weapon trained on Veritas. A dozen more rifles followed suit.
But Veritas... just stared at Batroc, his shoulders beginning to tremble.
"No..." he whispered, his voice cracking with what sounded like genuine anguish. "No, no, no, no, no... Batroc!"
Veritas reached both of his hands out toward the captured mercenary, his fingers grasping at the empty air. He looked exactly like a tragic, heartbroken wife in a war movie, desperately reaching out for her beloved husband just before he boarded a train to the front lines.
Batroc snapped his head up, his eyes practically burning with fury.
"Espèce de bâtard de clown, tu nous as dit que tu t’occuperais du S.H.I.E.L.D. !" [You clown bastard, you told us you’d handle S.H.I.E.L.D.!] Batroc screamed at the top of his lungs.
Luke didn’t understand shit. But he uttered the only non-english apology he knew...
"Batroc... Lo siento, Batroc..."
The dried tear marks painted onto his Jester mask suddenly glistened. Fresh, glistening dark liquid began to flow from the corners of the painted eyes, catching the moonlight in a way that was almost beautiful. Almost... Scary.
[Public Comments:]
[Ron: I don’t think he replied in French.]
[Miller: That’s Spanish, I think.]
[CaffineWitch: @Miller really?LMAO.]
[Adorable_Filter: Maybe Veritas is Spanish... or that’s some kind of code phrase.]
[Misa: Veri darling is hot no matter the country... ]
[L0ST_1N_SPaCe: It always creeps tf outta me when the painted tears actually start flowing again. ]
Alas, there was no deeper meaning behind those words... it was just a meme from his old Luke’s previous world.
He stared at the floor, his chest heaving with heavy, shuddering breaths, as if he simply couldn’t process the weight of his best friend’s furious words.
"It’s all your fault," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. He slowly raised his head, his hollow eyeholes sweeping over Captain America and the commandos. "Because of you... at least two of my friends were killed tonight. And now my best friend... my first ever friend... has been captured."
His voice cracked. The painted tears flowed faster.
"And he hates me now. Did you hear him? He hates me."
"I’ve lost all my friends in a single day... You made me lonely once again, in this vast cold world..."
"Steve Rogers..." Veritas said, slowly raising a clenched fist into the air. "Dread the day you find a true friend because... that day you won’t be able to save them either..."
Steve’s eyes narrowed.
The Madman let out a long, shuddering sigh.
Slowly, he reached into the breast pocket of his black suit and produced a perfectly folded, pristine white handkerchief. With delicate, almost dainty movements, he dabbed at the black tear streaks running down his mask, wiping them away like a Victorian widow.
When he burned away the handkerchief, the tragedy from his countenance was entirely gone.
He looked up, locking his dark, hollow eyeholes onto Steve. The unholy, manic grin on his mask seemed to radiate a joyful, terrifying energy. His posture was completely relaxed, the overwhelming grief vanishing as if someone had just flipped a switch.
As if the entire soap opera performance had been a complete, psychotic lie.
’Knew it, not a single ounce of actual feelings in this madman.’ Steve thought as he stared at him, the vibranium shield still raised.
Clap!
Veritas brought his hands together in a bright, cheerful clap that completely shattered the ominous atmosphere.
"Alright, enough of that depressing stuff! Now that Batroc hates me, I have no choice but to move on with a smile," he chirped and gave Steve a wave, "Bye-bye, ’good man’.."
And just like that, Veritas disappeared for the final time...
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