Secret Invasion Contest: The Song Remains the Same

[Rift]

Somewhere in Antarctica, 78 Hours past Mission Check In...

Inside a dilapidated Soviet-era communications station, Corporal Flash Thompson sat curled up and shivering, an old torn coat wrapped around him. His mind raced as he fought the urge to nod off, knowing that should he sleep he'd likely never wake again, his frozen corpse either going undiscovered or worse yet, found by the enemy. It was a task made all the harder thanks to not having slept save for a few brief moments over the last several days. He had no way of knowing what was going to kill him first, the cold or the enemy force hunting for him, but he knew that when his time came he could at least take solace in the fact that his mission, as messed up as it had been, was largely a success.

General Dodge won't see it that way, not with the suit lost and especially once he finds out why the symbiote is gone. If he ever does. With the aliens clearly readying an invasion force, he may be dead or replaced before he ever has a chance to be disappointed, he thought bitterly.

Thompson's superiors and the staff of Project Rebirth 2.0 were honestly pretty far down the list of those he was worried about. His mom, his aunt, his sister and her family, and most of all Betty Brant.

She doesn't deserve this. Doesn't deserve to learn your secret because someone finds your popsicled corpse, assuming of course the brass even tells anyone and doesn't just classify it all as Top Secret. Doesn't deserve the guilt she'll needlessly take on that the last time she spoke to you it was another argument and the umpteenth breakup. And if she learns anything she most definitely doesn't deserve how finding out that this mission was practically launched only because of her investigative journalism.

Hearing a noise he looked around, startled, instantly prepared to fight. He gripped the old, rotted mop handle he'd found as if it were a mighty weapon rather than a piece of junk only to roll his eyes when he realized the sound had merely been an old ceiling panel collapsing in due to wind and the weight of snow.

Great Flash, real great. Jumping at nothing now. Well, not exactly jumping, not without legs, but still. Man pops would be laughing and laying into you right now if he could see this. Funny thing that. He's the one person those green bastards could replace and it would probably be an improvement.

The thought reminded him of how he'd gotten into this mess and he let his mind drift for but a moment...

Several days prior

Agent Venom crawled along the piping and catwalks of a research station. Hours beforehand he had performed a HALO Jump into the region and made the rest of the journey on foot through snow, ice, and temperatures that could leave a man frozen to death in mere moments. The trip would have been difficult even for a full team of Special Operations experts, but it was practically a walk in the park thanks to the symbiote. It kept Flash protected from the elements while alleviating any stamina drain trekking across the Arctic wasteland would have taken on him. Unfortunately, even Venom could only do so much about the sheer distance that had to be covered and Flash had a limited supply of the drugs that kept the symbiote under control left, having already gone through much of it.

The mission was simple. A group of arms dealers stopped by Interpol had intercepted a shipment of unusual ammunition. They figured it was headed for the black market and would eventually make its way to some war-torn country or another, likely in the hands of terrorists or tyrants. What interested the United States Military was the fact that the ammunition was unlike anything that had found its way into the open in quite some time. Comprised of what the briefing had called Anti-Metal, otherwise known as Antarctic Vibranium, the material had been smuggled out of the Savage Land despite the fact that several safeguards were in place to prevent just that sort of problem. The information about just what type of ammo it had been and its origins was not something international authorities had shared willingly. It was however the subject of a story that Betty Brant, Flash's on again off again girlfriend had published in the pages of the Daily Bugle. The story had angered a lot of officials in multiple countries and no doubt several people were going to be losing their jobs as a result of the leak, but it was enough to different operations approved in record time.

While a strike force, likely led by S.H.I.E.L.D. was to venture into the Savage Land itself and shut down the mining operation, the military was more interested in recovering any other shipments of the ammunition. The fact that it was rumored to be potent enough to take out a Stark designed armor meant that people in R&D wanted it for their own research. The discovery of a research station's runway being used as a launch point once the ammunition arrived for repacking led to Flash getting the order to intercept and recover the shipment and eliminate any hostiles.

The symbiote provided night vision allowing Flash to make out writing on a number of crates down below. The letters looked Asiatic, but he couldn't be sure which language.

Heh, suppose I should be lucky this isn't a Norwegian research station. Last thing I need is for this relatively simple op to turn into a John Carpenter flick huh? he asked his Other.

The symbiote didn't respond. Whether it was too far under the sedative-like effects of the drugs used to keep it under control or it simply wasn't a fan of horror movies like The Thing Flash couldn't tell. As it was he was thankful that for once, it wasn't whispering in his ear trying to convince him how much he needed it.

Lowering himself silently to the floor he drew his sniper rifle and took aim. There was a small force loading the crates onto a plane. The time it had taken him to reach the station was clearly too much, even with the symbiote's aid, because the last container was already being carted up the loading ramp.

Okay, change of plans, take out what personnel I have to in order to reach the plane, board it, and fly this back stateside or to the nearest friendly base. We can worry about cleaning up those responsible later, he thought.

As the men loading the plane finished their task and walked back out the cargo area Flash lined up shots and squeezed the trigger, rapidly dropping both of them. Before they'd even touched the floor tendrils silently wove across the ground, snaked around their ankles, and drew the bodies off into the shadows with him. Before he had a chance to run for the plane, Flash saw that to his horror the dead men changed, their forms twisting and flickering to reveal green flesh, pointed ears, and chin ridges...

[Rift]

Flash's knowledge of the Skrull was limited at best. Somewhere at some time he had seen them before, maybe on television duking it out with the Fantastic Four or maybe on a screen somewhere back at the base the military ran Project Rebirth 2.0 out of. After all it made sense that since they were dealing with the Venom symbiote, an alien itself, that they'd try and stay up to date on whatever other extraterrestrial threats were out there. That didn't mean they shared whatever they knew with soldiers. Even though mankind had seen its share of alien threats over the years and nobody could deny humanity was not alone in the universe, specifics about whatever else was out there in the black of the cosmos was kept under lock and key. Despite knowing that certain intelligence was only given out on a need-to-know basis, Flash couldn't help but feel like he really should have been filled in on this little tidbit.

Of course there is always the possibility that this wasn't an intelligence failure and that brass and company legitimately didn't know. In which case that might be even scarier, he thought.

Running across the hanger his attempts to be stealthy had already been blown. Numerous men with weapons had emerged and opened fire on Agent Venom, their weapons far more advanced than even some the stuff he'd seen DARPA cooking up. The symbiote provided him with plenty of protection, his left arm forming a large pointed shield as he ran, deflecting many of the projectiles and allowing him to return fire with his free hand and multiple tendrils each holding firearms of their own.

The protection however only went so far. Some of the rounds were either heated or energy based and his Other didn't particularly like heat-based weapons what with symbiotes being weakened by fire. It was enough of a shock to his and its system that the symbiote was awake and it was angry, occasionally forming even more tendrils with bladed edges to deal with the Skrull soldiers responsible for the pain.

He had been within inches of the plane when Flash learned that the Skrull were not simply limited to cosmetic changes. One of the injured Skrull had stretched it's arm out not unlike one of the pseudopods used by symbiotes and formed the hand into a mallet that whacked him in the knee before changing again to wrap around his ankle. Though he tumbled to the ground, Venom was already on the job, the legs it formed to let him walk simply flowing back up into it leaving the Skrull grasping nothing but air.

On his back, legs gone beneath his knees, Flash took aim and finished off the still shapeshifting Skrull with a shot from his handgun. As he had his legs reform he looked back and fired off a webline, snagging the plane's loading ramp, just before it closed.

As the plane rose higher into the frigid air Agent Venom clung to it for dear life. He ordered the symbiote to send off an exploratory tendril that seeped into the tightly sealed edges of the loading door. Expanding outwards he breathed a sigh of relief as it opened, the sudden depressurization sending various odds and ends flying out of the plane.

Pulling himself inside, he brandished weapons and prepared to seize control of the aircraft. For a long moment he saw nothing leading to cockpit, no threats, only the bolted crate containing the ammunition. Before he could ponder what that meant he was hit with blinding pain, his vision flooding with light, and every nerve ending screaming. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't just his body, but him and his Other, all screaming in a chorus of agony.

When he finally regained consciousness, he found himself on the floor, some kind of restraints binding his hands. The symbiote was still on him, seemingly stunned as it failed to respond to mental commands. Above him a Skrull warrior stood laughing, most of the weapons Thompson carried now strapped to it.

"This is too funny. There were rumors the wretched Kree had used beasts such as this during their campaign against us, but to know that you pathetic humans had the same idea? And to think they wasted this specimen on a cripple like you. Your species is so weak as it is, they should at least show the gumption to rid themselves of burdens like you and give weapons such as this to the deserving, the fittest among you," it said mocking him. "I am going to enjoy peeling it away from your soft exterior, inch by inch."

"You can try, but I wouldn't put money on it. Because whatever you did to the suit, it's going to be pissed and your rumors and stories sure didn't prepare you for the nightmare that's going to be," Flash responded.

C'mon Flash, keep 'em talking. It's what Spider-Man would do. Then the symbiote can wake up and we can finish this. You hear me? Wake up dude! I may be king of the gridiron and a badass soldier, but you are the only alien troublemaker I really have any experience with. So wake up before they get to the probing part of E.T. abductions! he thought to himself and towards the Other.

The threat he'd issues earned him a smack in the mouth courtesy of the butt end of a rifle. The Skrull sneered at him.

"Sad little worm. I think I may keep you alive, see if our Empress will allow me one of you hairless apes as a pet. You can watch as we use what is in these crates to slay your greatest defenders, to eat through the shells your Iron Men and War Machines hide behind, to obliterate your fancy flying boats. Perhaps she'll even allow me to keep the creature you wear as a trophy. Or perhaps I'll discover what it tastes like."

At that Flash felt the symbiote stir. It pulled away to reveal his lips as he smiled. "Dude, you've no idea how bad it is you phrased it that way. Eat and taste are the last words you should have used around this thing."

Without warning Flash felt himself shoved to the back of his own mind as he became a passenger in his own body. His mass and height increased until he almost touched the ceiling of the plane, his restraints popping off in pieces. Gone was the Spidey-esque mask and in its place was a razor tooth filled maw stretching nearly around the back of his head, large blank white eyes shifting from the Skrull to his compatriots.

"WE REMEMBER YOUR KIND, HOW YOU PREYED UPON KREE PASSENGER VESSELS AND BURNED DOWN UNARMED WOMEN AND CHILDREN! THE SUFFERING YOU BROUGHT UPON COUNTLESS WORLDS! THE CULTURES OBLITERATED BY YOUR KIND! THE HOST IS A SOLDIER, A HERO, AND IT IS UNKNOWN IF HE WOULD ELIMINATE YOU FOR YOUR CRIMES OR IMPRISON YOU," Venom snarled. "BUT WE DON'T CARE ABOUT ANY OF THAT BECAUSE WE REMEMBER EXACTLY HOW SKRULL BRAINS TASTE!

Lunging forward Venom bit the head off of the Skrull that moments before had been mocking him and turned the headless body to face the other Skrulls. "AND THEY ARE NOT TERRIBLE!"

Flash was awake for the massacre, but couldn't stop Venom. His pleas to the symbiote to let him regain control were ignored and some part of the soldier almost didn't care. The euphoria that came with the symbiote running free was not even the worst aspect, it was the fact that if the brief flashes of memory Thompson had seen from Venom's recounted experience with the Skrulls was true, they deserved everything that was happening to them.

Still towards the end of the slaughter Flash suddenly found himself back in control. Looking around the plane, now smeared with green ichor, he shook his head. Whatever weapon they had hit him with had completely negated the serum used to keep the symbiote under control. So why had Venom allowed him to take back over?

It was then that he noticed the beeping device still clipped to the headless Skrull. Recovering it he swallowed hard.

"You've got to be kidding me! We were out for how long? That means...the sedative wasn't negated, it wore off. I'm past deadline. General Dodge will likely detonate the explosive in my head any minute!"

That is why you are, how do you say, in the driver's seat again. There was work to be done, the symbiote replied.

Suddenly Flash saw what the symbiote had been up to and felt the stinging at the base of his skull. It had removed the explosive with almost surgical precison and placed it inside the crate of ammunition. It was blinking.

"SON OF A..."

Within seconds the detonation had rippled the plane apart, the anti-metal ammunition firing off in every direction blasting still burning holes through the aircraft's frame and reducing it to molten slag. Somehow, seconds before the blast, Agent Venom had managed to throw himself free. He fell towards the frozen earth below, burning shrapnel falling around him, and barely registered that the symbiote had formed a parachute emblazoned with the white spider symbol typically upon his chest as he drifted into unconsciousness once again.

[Rift]

Currently...

Flash woke with a start.

He was shivering violently, extremities having gone numb from the cold. He'd nearly dozed off, lost in memory of the ill-fated mission aboard the plane. Everything that had happened after the leap from the exploding wreckage was a blur. He knew he made it to the icy ground, the symbiote having made a parachute and later a glider of sorts from its own biomass. Then there was walking, so much walking. Venom had moved him along as he faded in and out of consciousness. He wasn't sure what kind of shape he was in or whether the injuries were the result of the anti-symbiote weaponry used on him by the Skrull or the impromptu near brain surgery that the symbiote had worked when removing the explosive, but he only caught snippets of the journey.

At some point he came to, colder than he had ever been, as a blizzard raged outside. The communications station was old and falling apart, any gear long ago gutted before the place had been abandoned by its Soviet creators. Chances were good it hadn't been fully operation since the mid-seventies. A few odds and ends were left behind like old magazines and a couple discarded personal items of whoever had been stationed there. Luckily, he'd managed to find a coat and through great effort and little luck managed to start a small fire in a dented trash can. The fire hadn't lasted though leaving him with only the small amount of protection the ragged, torn old parka provided.

The symbiote was gone. He had only a vague recollection of waking on a hill of snow and ice as the symbiote was distracted by something, some kind of noise that fell just short of the range that would have caused it pain. Flash hadn't known if it was a whale, the whining engine of a pursuing enemy craft, or just arctic wind blowing over glaciers but he used the opportunity to press a button on the small, cylindrical device he kept on the belt he wore beneath the symbiote. Instantly repelled by the noise, Flash was free of it as he desperately crawled towards the station in the distance. For whatever reason, the symbiote hadn't followed.

Since then he'd explored every nook and cranny of the place, scrounged up the few items he had, and waited to freeze to death. Of course that hadn't stopped him from jumping at every noise or regretting having ever agreed to take up the responsibility of wearing the symbiote.

Just couldn't let it go could you Thompson? Just had to get back out there. Whether it was playing injured or letting them stick an alien parasite on you so you could once again serve your country, you just don't know when to call it quits. Already gave your legs and sacrificed any chance at a normal relationship and now you get to give your life too. And the hell of it all is that dad still won't think its enough. Just another thing you were not good enough at, he thought.

Propping himself up as best he could in the corner he tried to keep his head up, but once more found himself falling asleep. On some level he knew that he probably wouldn't wake again, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd given his all to succeed, to finish the mission, and to survive.

"There's no shame in it. You did all you could," he heard, but the voice was not his own. It belonged to someone standing next to him.

If he'd expected to dream of home or have flashbacks to important moments in his life, that was not what was happening. Instead, he found himself standing on legs that were real as he stared out over the bridge of a massive ship. Beyond the large viewports was not an ocean, but an endless black sea dotted by twinkling stars.

Holy crap that's space! he thought.

Then it was as if he turned, but he was not looking through his own eyes. Somehow, he knew what he was and it wasn't Flash Thompson, bully turned war hero turned sorta, kinda superhero. No, he was a proud Kree warrior, his blue skin hidden beneath shimmering ink black armor. The helmet was familiar in shape, not unlike a Roman centurion he once saw in a schoolbook he'd ignored because he figured he could bully Parker or some other dweeb into doing the assignment for him. From behind it he looked out at other Kree wearing crisp uniforms.

"Did I?" another voice that was not his but came from his mouth asked. "I saved all that I could, but how many others did I damn by blowing my cover?"

The other Kree, his superior apparently, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"My question is was that your decision? Did you reveal yourself to save your fellow Kree? Could you really not open fire upon your own kind or was there another option, another out that you didn't see? Or did you not want to see?" his commander asked.

"I don't...I mean...no there was no other option," the not-him answered.

Deep down though he wasn't sure. He knew what his commander was asking without asking. Was it really his call or could he not hold back the symbiote's bloodlust any longer? Did the symbiote tamper with his mind, his memories, and not let him find another answer that would have spared the Kree victims and let him maintain his cover as a Skrull agent? He didn't think his symbiote would do that, but he couldn't be completely sure that his faith wasn't misplaced. It had tampered with his thoughts, his memories before...

"It was not. His faith. Misplaced that is. There was no other choice and his memories...I erased those that made him uncomfortable. Things done and seen in the Kree-Skrull War that made him unable to sleep."

Flash once more awoke, surprise washing over him as he heard the now familiar voice of the Other. Of Venom.

Glancing down he saw that he was covered, his form once more that of Agent Venom, complete with the legs the symbiote generated for him.

"How? Wh-what was that? Was that...a memory? But not my memory. I mean...was it?" Flash asked.

"No not yours. You have never been a Kree warrior have you? Never been to space? No. You have not. That was a previous host. Stupid question Flash. As you said before, I am the only alien you know, but there are many others. I have encountered many over the many, many years I have existed." the symbiote explained. "Our mission. It was not my first meeting with the Skrulls."

"Why? Why did you come back?" Flash asked.

The symbiote was quiet for a long moment.

"Because. I have had other hosts before. Eddie Brock. Spider-Man before that," it said, putting extra anger into the wallcrawler's name. "Many before that on different worlds, in different galaxies. Some were okay, like that Kree. Others were...others were not. Twisted, angry, even evil. You remind me of the Kree. A soldier. A hero, but...better. You do not welcome having your memories taken, not even the bad ones. You were not always a good man Flash. You were mean, a bully, a jerk even. But you try to be better, to change, and you do not run from your mistakes."

Flash wasn't sure how to take the alien's words. "Uh...thanks I think. But what does this Dr. Phil moment have to do with anything?"

"Idiot. It means you are a good host. Also, you need me if we are to get out of here. Where there are some Skrull, there are likely more. Your Earth is likely being targeted for invasion and if you want to be a part of stopping that, you need me."

"Yeah, seems to me you need me too. I don't know if symbiotes can freeze to death, but you can starve. Not a whole lot out here for you to bond to," Flash replied.

Taking control for a moment the symbiote forced Flash to turn his head and peer out the doorway that led to the main hall. In it was a massive, slumbering polar bear.

The symbiote said. "Do not be so sure Flash. You are a good host, but you are not the first and will not be the last. At least she let me have some fun and didn't drug me."


Flash blinked a few times as he took in the comment and the sight of the bear. Only then did he notice it was covered in green gore.

Sensing his question before he asked it, Venom said "Been hunting. Skrull search parties have been eliminated. And as you said, there's not much to eat out here. For anything. Check your pocket. Took a satellite phone off of one of the Skrull. You can call in our extract. We get home, we have to get General Dodge to let us continue this fight. It has been a long time. Almost forgot how much fun it is to hunt Skrull."

With a mix of awe and fear that sent a shiver not related to cold down his spine, Flash pressed the button and called for his ride out of the frozen hell. As he spoke to someone manning communications at Project Rebirth, he couldn't help but hear the Kree host's words echoing in his head as he wondered just how much the symbiote was manipulating him. For now though those worries had to wait. There was an invasion happening and a war to be fought.

The End.