Heroes Assemble!

Up, Up And Away!

Thor strode into the Gateway at the end of the Rainbow Bridge on Asgard, ready for the next part of his quest. For this, he was dressed in his finest armour, Mjolnir in hand. The Kree were a warrior race, ruled by a military dictatorship and he needed to ensure that he projected the right image of strength to have them take him seriously.

"We're off now then, are we?" Fandral asked from where he leant against the wall, picking at his fingernails with a dagger.

"About time, I was getting hungry," Volstagg stated.

"And what brought about this great hunger, hmm?" Lady Sif asked. "Is simply standing enough to incite hunger in you these days?"

"I'll have you know that my appetite is directly proportional to my great strength, I need to keep it up at all times for when we go into battle," Volstagg replied indignantly.

"At least we have cover of sufficient size to protect us all with Volstagg along," Hogun said.

"My friends, what are you all doing here?" Thor smiled, interrupting the usual squabbles among this group.

"I informed them of your destination," Heimdell said. "The Kree value strength. They will expect a Prince of Asgard to have bodyguards."

"Thank you, Heimdell, once again you have seen my need before even I recognised it," Thor said with a small bow of his head.

"The journey will be long; the Kree Empire is far outside the Nine Realms," Heimdell informed them as Lady Sif and the Warriors Three formed up around Thor, ready for the Bifrost to open and sweep them away.

"I am uncertain how long our time with the Kree will be," Thor said.

"I will be watching," Heimdell promised and turned the hilt of his sword like a great key, activating the Bifrost.

Thor felt himself pulled into the multicoloured beam of light. Thrusting Mjolnir out in front of himself, he aligned his body to make the journey more comfortable. Shifting his head, he grinned at Sif and Fandral to either side of him; Hogun and Volstagg, he knew, would be following closely in their wake.

ooo00ooo

Tony slipped into the pilot's seat and did something that he'd never done before: he fastened the seatbelt. He froze, considering what in the world had made him do such a thing. Almost at once, the answer came: you're a married man, now, Stark and you're about to fly off into space; can't be doing quite as many thoughtless things that could get you killed as you used to.

"Alright, Friday, let's bring her on-line," he said as he began pressing buttons and flipping switches.

He analysed every reading that came in, ensuring that they were exactly as they should be.

"All systems are operational, Sir," Friday announced. "The quinjet is ready for take-off."

A loud crack sounded directly behind him and Tony flinched and swore before swinging his chair about one hundred and eighty degrees, his head still partially lowered. Upon seeing what had caused the sound, though, he sat up and scowled.

"Don't do that, Sparrowhawk! One of these days you're going to give me a heart attack, and then nothing'll save you from Pepper's wrath."

"Or, you could simply get used to it," Harry countered.

"Unlikely," Tony waved off the suggestion. "What are you doing here, anyway? I'm about to launch."

"I know; that's why I'm here. I'm going with you," Harry replied, striding forward to take the co-pilot's seat and beginning to strap in.