Fire reflected off the eyes of the Majestor, dancing flames in the twilight between day and night on the waters of the Shi'ar harbor as the young mutant emperor watched as what was supposed to be a gift to his new bride. Yes, publicly the Shi'ar's slave trades were "dismantled', propaganda was spread all over about the righteousness of the new Majestor as he eliminated one rival after another in the crime nation on the sea. In truth he was not much better than D'Ken had been, and he made sure few knew it. He didn't keep slaves, at least not in the traditional sense. He converted them into something else and the ones that were not useful were left in the mines or prisons until a use could be determined. His plans for renovations of the more poverty stricken areas of the city were not what they seemed to have been either, once again he played that close to the chest. All to paint him as a figure, an icon that Madripoor would follow without question. So far it worked for a majority, and the minority who either saw through it or chose not to follow the new ruler were silenced.

Vulcan's eyes moved from the fire of the ships down to looking at the murky sea water. His intense gaze ignited in fiery energy and the cuffs of his suit burned as the same energy surrounded his fists. Someone sought to crash his wedding, to spoil his evening, and more importantly make their act of defiance known. His father... it had to be Corsair and his damned Starjammers returning after remaining hidden. They made their return.

The words of others fell on deaf ears for the moment until the anger and frustration of the explosive event erupted in a golden blast from Vulcan's hand which hit the water aimed towards the middle of the harbor. Steam hit the air from the heat and waves crashed from the force. He was not aiming, he couldn't aim at them through the water, Vulcan could not see them. But he believed they could see him and the power he possessed. It was the only warning they would ever get to surrender and have a chance to have their lives spared, a chance that all but non-existent in the first place.

The fiery energy dwindled some as the Majestor looked to his praetor. "Do it." He ordered. "Find them, turn that blasted submarine into a tomb. I want them destroyed even if we have to destroy the entire harbor!" Adam snapped.