The plot bunnies hit me with this whilst I was writing another fic. Unfotunately, they wouldn't let me continue with it until this had been written. So I wrote it...
I've not written an X-men fic before so apologies if it isn't up to scratch!
This takes place some time after X2, but before X3.
Seventeen years ago…
'Do you have enough samples?'
The assistant nodded, 'all five samples, as you requested.'
'And the adamantium-x?
'The adamantium-x has surpassed all tests so far.'
'The embryo?'
'The embryo's DNA is exceeding that of the father's.'
'And you are sure it will survive the gene splicing.'
'Sir, the procedure is a lot more complicated the merely gene splicing. It requires-'
'Save it, Goran.'
'Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.'
'Commence Experiment X.'
Striker watched as the scientists began working on the embryo in front of him, and smiled.
Seven years ago.
Experiment X was crouched in a tree, scanning the area, waiting for any sudden noise. She had just completed four hours of intensive study. Intensive meaning the computer had begun filling her mind with information. At the age of five, she could speak thirteen languages, knew how to fight in seven different styles, and knew every military formation from the US and Russia.
By seven, she could fly every type of military aircraft in the US Air Force, could dismantle and rebuild any gun in the arsenal in less than three minutes, and could hit a bulls-eye on a target from two miles away.
By nine she had killed forty seven men for her country. By nine, she had killed three hundred and ninety-one mutants for her country.
Currently, she was training in a specially designed computer stimulation programme, much like the Danger Room currently owned by the group of mutants known as The X-Men. Military surveillance had ensured a copy of the plans to that.
Behind her a twig snapped.
Experiment X back flipped out of the tree and landed silently, twenty four feet below on the ground. She brought her left leg in and stood, her green eyes narrowing to survey the area. She could sense her advisory to her right.
The gun clicked.
Experiment X held her hand up as the gun fired a solitary shot, shooting her own retaliation from her hand. A blast of energy. The bullet crumbled before it got within six feet of its target.
She pushed her feet off and flew into the air, hovering above her spot, and then she attacked, swooping in.
The soldier was ready, and the two initiate a violent hand-to-hand combat.
Experiment X blocked all his hits expertly, before sending in her own. A blow to the head, a jab in the side, another blow to the face, before finishing with a vicious spinning kick.
As the target fell to the floor, another hostile attacked. Or at least tried. Experiment X sent a larger energy bolt towards the man. It exploded on impact, destroying its target, much like the bullet.
Experiment X paused. Not because she was tired – no, just looking at her one would not be able to tell she had even exerted any form of energy. But rather because she could sense that she was surrounded.
As the eight men around her opened fire, Experiment X created a shield – a force field - around herself, allowing the bullets to ricochet off. But not before one hit her, penetrating her stomach and exiting the other side.
Experiment X winced, but before her blood could drop to the floor, the wound had healed.
Closing her eyes, Experiment X unleashed her final attack. The shield glowed a brilliant blue before it shot out. The force field killed everything in its path – men, trees and animals – in a twenty foot radius.
'ENOUGH!'
The surroundings changed, reverting back into a large metal room.
'What happened?' The voice bellowed through the speakers.
Experiment X looked up to the observation room where Striker was watching her. She could see the veins pumping at his temples.
'I am sorry, Sir.'
'You were hit.'
'Sorry sir. It won't happen again.'
'Damn straight it won't. Now, run the programme again.'
The scenery changed. This time, Experiment X was stood in the middle of a desert. She grinned.
Some time in the not too distant future.
Billie sat drinking her beer, ignoring the attention she was receiving from the men in the bar. She was perfect. Emerald green eyes, jet-black hair which hung down her back to her waist in soft curls, full lips, all-year tan, long, athletic legs, slim waist, a pert ass and full, perky breasts. Of course, she had been created that way.
She finished the rest of the beer and threw down a few bills before pulling her black leather jacket on and leaving the bar.
She could see her breath on the cold night air as she walked over to her bike. But despite the black leather mini skirt and bodice, she didn't feel the cold.
'Where are you going princess?'
Billie ignored the man and continued to her bike.
'You all alone?'
He didn't seem to be getting the hint.
'You want a little company?'
Billie stopped and turned to smile, displaying a perfect set of white teeth, 'if you want to live, you should leave me alone.'
The drunk didn't seem to hear – either that or he chose to ignore her warning – and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Billie grabbed his hand, rammed her elbow back and hit him in the stomach, before twirling him around and snapping his arm. Before he could scream, she had spun him back so he was facing her and kicked him in the throat, the three inch silver stiletto heel of her knee length leather boots piercing his throat.
'I warned you.' She told him coldly, as she withdrew her heel and watched him fall to the ground, dead.
She bent over his body and looked in his pockets, pulling out a pair of shades and a wallet. She flicked through the wallet, her eyes hovering on the picture of him with two small girls, before emptying it of the cash.
Despite there only being a handful of stars illuminating the night sky, she put the shades on and continued walking towards her bike. She started it up, turned on the light and drove away.
A few hours later, she pulled up outside the iron gates to an enormous mansion on the outskirts of New York. She dismounted her bike and stood, staring at the house. And on the other side of the gates, was her biological father. She was here.
Charles Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters.
Please let me know what you think - if it sucks, I don't mind you telling me so - that way, I can tell the plot bunnies they've eaten too many carrots!