Silver Surfer vs.
Orion of the New Gods
"Rematch"

"Where am I?" ponders the Silver Surfer examining the unfamiliar stars around him.

The universe, although filled with many wonders, and what would seem a great deal more horrors, still remains through all time a vast empty, inky void, with only a scant few billion clusters of stars spread light-years apart to decorate it, and a dreadful place to get lost in. It reaches out to infinity, for all eternity. A being could quite easily lose themself here and forever wander aimlessly through the never-ending cosmos.

Norrin Radd, formerly a resident of the world of Zenn-La, now the Sentinel of the Spaceways known as the Silver Surfer, smiles. He is enlightened by the opportunity to explore space previously unknown to him. There is not a force in the universe that can stop him. For the first time, he is truly free. He is not bound by need for nourishment, not bound by the ages, not bound by duty, but more importantly he is unbound from the reaches of the Earth's atmosphere, and above all, the whims of Galactus the Devourer.

He closes his eyes and allows the energies from all throughout the cosmos draw themselves to him, flowing through his being, playing a cosmic symphony that only he can hear, being played for him alone. The music is ever so sweet, playing not to his ears, but to his spirit, bringing the forces of order, chaos, life and death to astounding reality within him.

His eyes open suddenly as a shock runs through his soul. A great force is near. One unfamiliar to him, one without bounds. His sleek silver body and board follow the trail of energies calling to them, and does with all the speed he can muster.

"DIE FOUL PARADEMONS!" Golden beams shine over New Genesis as the sounds of angry primal screams and energy blasts echo across the countryside. "Die! I wield the mighty power of the ASTRO FORCE! This will teach you to challenge Orion, the scion of Darkseid!"

A small band of Parademons head upward propelled by a trail of crackling energy. Once a shot is fired upon them, they all turn in unison to face their attacker, but before they have a chance to fight back, they are knocked from the sky.

A Parademon squirms around in the dirt, his nervous system fried and going crazy. For a moment it stops and looks up to the large red figure towering above. It looks through his silver mask and into his anger-filled eyes.

Quickly it reaches for a weapon amongst its spiked golden armor and the next thing it knew…was blackness.

Orion, the New God dog of war had sent it back to its maker.

"Enjoying the fruits of war, Orion?" says a voice from above. Orion recognizes it immediately as his fellow New God Lightray.

"Away from me Lightray…I have no use for your light-hearted banter this day." Orion looks downwards upon the bodies of the fallen and is almost tempted to smile, though refuses. This was no challenge for a beast like himself.

"You have been called upon, Orion. Your talents are needed elsewhere." Orion scoffs and nudges the body of one of the Parademons with his foot. "I take it you resent being ordered around like this?"

"No," he lied. "Takion is Highfather now. Where he leads I shall follow."

"The last place he lead you was to a team of gaudily-clad 'heroes' on Earth…"

"I hunger simply for battle. That is all I need to acquire satisfaction." His Godly machine carries him above the ground and up to Lightray's side. Still, he refused to look at him. "Now, where am I needed?"

"The Highfather has called you to the source wall…" Before he could finish his sentence Orion was in flight, speeding towards his assigned destination. Lightray smirked to himself and flew off to some other place.

In mere minutes Orion stood below the mighty source wall, staring up towards it's mighty golden magnificence and the gargantuan statues of those bonded to it looking out with beams of red energy flowing from out of them. Truly it is a marvel to behold, to mortal and god alike. It is said behind the Source Wall is a pure force from where all of creation itself was born.

His attention turns from the wall and to his brethren. There alongside the Highfather is Mister Miracle Scott Free, the son of the previous Highfather and the only man to ever escape the planet Apokolips. He is garbed in a red suit, with a vertical yellow band reaching down from his brow and to all points below, crossing sideways at some points. Though most of his body is covered by his long green cape and a tall collar reaching up over his head.

Beside him stands a heavily armor-clad woman, covered in chainmail and gold, red and black plates all over, some slinking around her like a snake and forming patterns like those the New Gods frequently cover themselves with. In her hand she holds a large gold mallet which has on occasion caused worlds to shake from its force. She is Barda Free, wife to Mister Miracle, and Orion's teammate in the Justice League of America.

"Orion, I am glad you have come." Takion, the new Highfather turns to greet him, but does not smile. He beams with semi-divinity, his gold skin glimmering under the light of the source and energy crackling from his head, burning with the might of the gods. "A dilemma of cosmic proportions has arisen, and I wish for you to take care of it for me."

A sinister, anxious grin crawls its way across Orion's face. "Which 'dilemma' do you wish for me to handle, Highfather?"

"As yet, we are uncertain. Though we've received strong hints of it approaching and are aware that now…"

"LOOK!" Mister Miracle points to the source wall, where a giant, ghost-like, disembodied hand writes a brief message in glowing red letters. It simply read: The Surfer Approaches.

"By the Gods…" Orion steps forward and ponders the meaning of the message. "Highfather, I fear the worst."

"What is it Orion?" queries Barda. He turns to face them.

"It is Galactus. He is returning."

The Silver Surfer races towards the source of the phenomenal energy that gradually becomes all the more powerful. Flashes of red, each passing with a stroke of immense heat blur past his eyes, each pulsing stronger than the last. Yet he pushes on, fuelled by his curiosity, screaming from his soul to be satisfied. He does not deny the urge and rather follows where his senses lead him.

He slows, the immense power overwhelming his semi-divine being. Stopping only a moment to compose himself, he launches himself again to the source with a force he usually needs not exert, riding flowing beams of the powers cosmic shooting from his palms. Again, the space around is clear.

"Now to find that unusual energy sour…" Before he could finish his musings a wave of godly proportions, composed of bubbling crimson cosmic power falls upon him, flinging his body into a corner of the universe unknown to him. Again he is lost, and disorientated. "What… happened?"

Through his weary eyes he could have sworn that a moment ago a planet was resting before him. A magnificent world, a lush green in color, with a strange golden tinge to it and beams of energy, the same kind of which he felt, lancing from its corners.

Now it is gone, and only space rests where it once was.

Wait. What was that? There's something in the abyss that has snagged the attention of his cosmic awareness, but it is nowhere to be found. The Surfer 'sniffs' around in a vain attempt to pinpoint its source but it's too late. With a mighty boom he is thrown back once more, spiraling through the cosmos upon the opening of a strange vortex.

"Be gone Silver Surfer," speaks a harsh, proud voice. "Or face the wrath of the New God dog of war, Orion, scion of Darkseid!"

His head peers around his board and is met by the vision of a mighty humanoid powerhouse garbed primarily in red and blue. Upon his head a metallic silver helmet, reaching down over his eyes like a mask with two points reaching from its side and the symbol of a sun upon his proud brow.

Forcing himself to his feet the Silver Surfer glides upon his board circling the semi-divine warrior come to greet him. Not once do the two look away from one another; their glares fixated upon one another keeping alert for anything. "I remember you, Orion. We did battle once upon a time*, but this time I have returned in peace."

"You may not mean any harm, whelp," barks Orion as he unleashes the power of the Astro-Force upon his foe. "Your master however has come to DEVOUR MY WORLD!"

The Silver Surfer tries to dodge and gain some distance. A few shots collide with the underside of his board forcing him off to drift aimlessly through space. He stops with a halt as his limp silver body collides with the boot of the almighty Orion. He looks up to the savage New God to see his cannons pointed down towards him, ready to finish him once and for all.

A million thoughts race through his head, and then the realization of what he must do. The Godwave left me drained. If I am to leave here victorious I must defeat Orion quickly and leave him no time to recover.

The Power Cosmic clashes with the raw might of the Astro-Force, throwing the two back into the inky void around them. Orion fumes and struggles to find his bearings once more. The Surfer tumbles and calls out into the darkness. "To me my board!"

His long, sleek chrome silver board scoops up from under his feet and rushes him toward the disorientated New God. He flexes his arms and throws them forward along with a surge of his Powers Cosmic, concentrated on his opponent. Though when all is said and done, Orion, still smoking and considerably weakened, still stands, foam drooling from his clenched teeth.

Every muscle on Orion's body pulses, his divine strength exercising itself to its peak. His teeth grind like metal and bone, his veins reaching from his body to near breaking point. On his arm rests his Mother Box, pinging loudly and stretching around the dog of war's muscles.

That box, thinks the Silver Surfer. It must be the source of his god-like strength. If I could manage to disable it…

"Your assumptions of me are wrong, Orion. Although I did once serve Galactus, I do no longer. I am simply passing by your planet with no intent on its destruction."

"LIAR!" Without a second thought he lets the Astro-Force rain down upon the Surfer. Though Norrin Radd, with great skill and grace, turns about left, right, up and down, avoiding each of his blasts.

"Since you refuse a peaceful resolution…" Upon his passing a bolt of energy lances from the Surfer's fingertips, striking the Mother Box of Orion and reducing it to dust. Though instead of losing his strength, the New God simply reaches a new height in his infinite rage.

How naive I was, gasps the Surfer under his breath. The box does not give him power, rather it regulates his body and emotions. Now I fear he may be unstoppable!

"Now…." fumes the less than stable minded Orion, "you will wish you had never… never… COME INTO EXISTANCE!" The Astro-Force blazes forth from his chariot with power to match even the Godwave the Surfer has encountered before. With all of his strength the Surfer tries to bring himself to stand against it, or even shield himself from it, but alas, is no match for the unleashed fury of Orion.

"Orion. Cease this immediately."

The blaze comes to an abrupt end and the Surfer lays upon his board, only slightly conscious, cold enclosing on his heart. Could this be death? Or painful relief? Whichever it may be, he knows it is over.

"Metron…" A sudden calm washes over the dog of war as he turns to face this new visitor. He is a long, lanky feature, garbed from head to toe in a tight dark blue outfit with symbols and patterns reminiscent to the New Gods over it. He rests within the fabled Morbius Chair; a mechanical throne of Metron, with his various creations built into it.

"We have no reason to finish this battle, Orion," speaks Metron coldly. "The Silver Surfer has come in peace. Galactus is not a threat to us."

"He spoke the truth?"

"Yes he did. Takion wishes for him to be brought back to New Genesis. Now come."

"At once."

Pain. Exhaustion. Dazed.

Concepts in which the Silver Surfer has recently grasped a new understanding of. Slowly and eventually he heals, his energies coursing through him healing the scars of battle. Though now he is barely well enough to stand. He does this and opens his eyes to the world around him, just now coming into focus.

His feet are buried in the loose, thick, rich soil of a world that could upon a first glance be mistaken for a part of the Earth. All around, he is surrounded by tall lush trees outstretched to the sky, their branches shielding the ground on which he stands. The realization comes to him; this is the world I saw in my daze.

"Welcome, Silver Surfer, to New Genesis. Home of the New Gods."

Before the Surfer, hovering above the ground in his Morbius Chair, is the mysterious New God who put an end to Orion's rampage. "You are Metron?"

"I am he," he states blankly. "As well as being your savior, I fear I am also the one responsible for your being here."

The Surfer outstretches his hand to one side calling his board to his side. "Please explain."

"We New Gods have developed technological marvels many never even dare dream of. One of these is the Boom Tube, a portal bound by neither time nor space. Recently I have been experimenting with a Boom Tube to the 'Brother' universe from where you originate."

"I see," ponders the Surfer losing himself in thought. "That would explain a lot, though it does not explain Orion's attack."

"The reputation of your former master and his herald the Silver Surfer preceed you. Orion was taking precautions to prevent the coming of Galactus…"

"…As he was not aware I was free of his influence?"

"You are correct. Now, it is my duty to send you to your home dimension." Metron's fingers crawls along the sleek silver arm of his chair and press against a hidden button then causing a chain reaction of flashing lights on the panel. With an almighty roar, a Boom Tube opens, an unnatural amount of energy spewing from its mouth.

"Then I shall leave as you wish," says the Surfer stepping onto his board and floating around preparing to dash through the mysterious dimension doorway awaiting him. "Farewell, Metron of the New Gods."

In a blur of silver and white he passes through the portal and is transported back to the spaceways of his own reality, back to the abyss he was free to roam, back to his home.

He reflects upon his recent exploits. No matter where he goes he is still bound by a name, by a face, by fear and hatred. Though he worries himself not, he has all eternity to put this right.

THE END

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