EclipsedHero
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Crossover between Star Wars and Superman. Before targeting Alderaan, the Death Star obliterated a planet known as Krypton and massacred its entire population – except one, a child that was rocketed into the care of Bail Organa…
Prologue
The Tantive IV trembled as crimson bolts of raw energy lashed down upon it, each strike conveying a dark fury that slowly consumed any shreds of hope still thriving within the hearts of the victimised crew. The vessel’s assailant, a triangular Star Destroyer, showed no signs of slowing its vicious assault as a tractor beam shimmered to life from its pitted underbelly, ensnaring the Tantive and snapping it back with a jolt. As the cruiser was unwillingly drawn into the Destroyer’s maw, its engines blazing in a useless attempt to break free, armoured troopers aligned themselves in morbid anticipation of the coming clash, their weapons held at the ready. An eerie silence fell over them as the Tantive halted abruptly, held fast by a web of energy, the only sounds the rhythmic metallic clanging of their boots against the deck.
The troopers stormed the hapless Tantive with ease, the barrels of their firearms ablaze as the triggers were squeezed. To their credit, the opposing soldiers retaliated against their white-clad assailants with skill and tenacity, their own armaments tearing into the enemy ranks. Unfortunately, they never truly had a chance to attain victory. The stormtroopers overwhelmed them with a sickening ease, the relentless artillery generating a smoky haze that clogged the corridors that had become an impromptu battlefield. A sharp aroma filled the air, stinging the masked militia as they continued their brutal invasion with an incomparable ruthlessness. Arrogance filled their every movement; they were all too aware of their impending triumph, and the satisfaction that would envelop them upon confirmation of their conquest.
“This deck is secure,” the forefront stormtrooper announced, pumping his rifle into the air. “Move upwards, men! Take the bridge!” They obeyed immediately, keeping pace with him as he darted forward, rounding a corner and unleashing a burst of laserfire in expectance of another flurry of opponents.
However, only one stood before them, arms folded evenly across his chest in a gesture of defiance. His eyes glinted an ashen crimson, burdened with a righteous fury. He remained still as needles of energy hurtled towards him, each of the stormtroopers adding their own contribution to the barrage. But to him, the frequency of the attacks was insignificant. For each and every bolt simply struck his body and was reduced to a trail of steam, whilst he remained poised squarely in place. The troopers froze momentarily, confusion filling their minds. If allowed even another instant, they would have continued their volley. It wouldn’t have mattered, and it didn’t – for they did not have even another second to spare. With a swiftness that blurred his form, he zipped forward and slammed his foes aside.
Cries emerged from the startled crowd, surprise mingled with sheer agony as he batted stormtrooper after stormtrooper aside, felling them with a casual swipe or jab. The confrontation lasted only three seconds before they were all subdued, bruises swelling across their battered bodies and chunks of their armour splayed across the deck. He remained amongst them, his head bowed and his hands balled into tight fists as he awaited an approaching, slender silhouette to reveal itself from the thin veil of smog that the battle had generated. He turned, his gaze no longer alive with scarlet and his arms held stiffly by his side. His breathing was not heavy, but his heart hammered with a blend of trepidation and anger. Inhaling deeply as if to calm himself, he adjusted his plain white tunic and observed as the figure grew ever closer.
“Kal-El!” a familiar feminine inflection snapped as she stepped forward. She was slim and adorned with immaculate ivory robes that seemed out of place in such a cold, sterile environment. “Kal, I told you to go.”
The one called Kal-El responded, his tone far deeper. “I couldn’t just let them be massacred. I can free the ship, Leia!”
“You’ve got more important things to do.” She shook her head resolutely. “The droids have already left. You need to find them, find Ben Kenobi, and get the plans to the Alliance before Vader comes on board.”
“I could take Vader,” Kal shot back, “if I was given a chance.”
Leia’s countenance shifted from one of moral indignation to concern. “We don’t know that. You’re strong, Kal, but Vader…you have to go, okay? Finding me will delay them, but you have to leave now.”
Kal stepped forward and embraced her warmly, suddenly feeling rather anxious about leaving the closest being he had to a sister alone in such a tentative situation. “Be careful,” he said softly.
“And you…” she returned, but he was already gone.
Prologue
The Tantive IV trembled as crimson bolts of raw energy lashed down upon it, each strike conveying a dark fury that slowly consumed any shreds of hope still thriving within the hearts of the victimised crew. The vessel’s assailant, a triangular Star Destroyer, showed no signs of slowing its vicious assault as a tractor beam shimmered to life from its pitted underbelly, ensnaring the Tantive and snapping it back with a jolt. As the cruiser was unwillingly drawn into the Destroyer’s maw, its engines blazing in a useless attempt to break free, armoured troopers aligned themselves in morbid anticipation of the coming clash, their weapons held at the ready. An eerie silence fell over them as the Tantive halted abruptly, held fast by a web of energy, the only sounds the rhythmic metallic clanging of their boots against the deck.
The troopers stormed the hapless Tantive with ease, the barrels of their firearms ablaze as the triggers were squeezed. To their credit, the opposing soldiers retaliated against their white-clad assailants with skill and tenacity, their own armaments tearing into the enemy ranks. Unfortunately, they never truly had a chance to attain victory. The stormtroopers overwhelmed them with a sickening ease, the relentless artillery generating a smoky haze that clogged the corridors that had become an impromptu battlefield. A sharp aroma filled the air, stinging the masked militia as they continued their brutal invasion with an incomparable ruthlessness. Arrogance filled their every movement; they were all too aware of their impending triumph, and the satisfaction that would envelop them upon confirmation of their conquest.
“This deck is secure,” the forefront stormtrooper announced, pumping his rifle into the air. “Move upwards, men! Take the bridge!” They obeyed immediately, keeping pace with him as he darted forward, rounding a corner and unleashing a burst of laserfire in expectance of another flurry of opponents.
However, only one stood before them, arms folded evenly across his chest in a gesture of defiance. His eyes glinted an ashen crimson, burdened with a righteous fury. He remained still as needles of energy hurtled towards him, each of the stormtroopers adding their own contribution to the barrage. But to him, the frequency of the attacks was insignificant. For each and every bolt simply struck his body and was reduced to a trail of steam, whilst he remained poised squarely in place. The troopers froze momentarily, confusion filling their minds. If allowed even another instant, they would have continued their volley. It wouldn’t have mattered, and it didn’t – for they did not have even another second to spare. With a swiftness that blurred his form, he zipped forward and slammed his foes aside.
Cries emerged from the startled crowd, surprise mingled with sheer agony as he batted stormtrooper after stormtrooper aside, felling them with a casual swipe or jab. The confrontation lasted only three seconds before they were all subdued, bruises swelling across their battered bodies and chunks of their armour splayed across the deck. He remained amongst them, his head bowed and his hands balled into tight fists as he awaited an approaching, slender silhouette to reveal itself from the thin veil of smog that the battle had generated. He turned, his gaze no longer alive with scarlet and his arms held stiffly by his side. His breathing was not heavy, but his heart hammered with a blend of trepidation and anger. Inhaling deeply as if to calm himself, he adjusted his plain white tunic and observed as the figure grew ever closer.
“Kal-El!” a familiar feminine inflection snapped as she stepped forward. She was slim and adorned with immaculate ivory robes that seemed out of place in such a cold, sterile environment. “Kal, I told you to go.”
The one called Kal-El responded, his tone far deeper. “I couldn’t just let them be massacred. I can free the ship, Leia!”
“You’ve got more important things to do.” She shook her head resolutely. “The droids have already left. You need to find them, find Ben Kenobi, and get the plans to the Alliance before Vader comes on board.”
“I could take Vader,” Kal shot back, “if I was given a chance.”
Leia’s countenance shifted from one of moral indignation to concern. “We don’t know that. You’re strong, Kal, but Vader…you have to go, okay? Finding me will delay them, but you have to leave now.”
Kal stepped forward and embraced her warmly, suddenly feeling rather anxious about leaving the closest being he had to a sister alone in such a tentative situation. “Be careful,” he said softly.
“And you…” she returned, but he was already gone.
