(Four)
Remy was numb. He just sat on his knees, the bloody remains of Jason still draped in his arms. He was white and shaking, drenched in blood and gore, nothing left inside as he looked up with detached fascination at the events unfolding in the sky. He was momentarily protected from the fight, everyone close by who was left standing was busy watching the events up in the sky. Zander had rushed to Angel's side seemingly in time to get smashed with a plasma bomb. The sky exploded in orange and red and the two Siskans fell from above like shot birds, collapsing in a golden, tangled heap in front of Remy, falling like broken toys in a cloud of golden fairy dust.
Remy stayed as he was, laughing now as his mind was blasted away by the absurdity of this whole thing, it was so surreal. Golden angels falling from the sky, glitter clouding everywhere. He had no logical explanation for how the two of them landed whole and not in a lake of orange slag, it was just another funny thing. Thank you, Lord, for this round of merriments. Neither of the pair were moving nor breathing, they just lay there like rag dolls, burnt and smoking, in a disjointed pile of limbs and wings.
Gambit carefully lay Jason's lifeless body to one side, no longer needing it, and crawled forward to touch the Angel woman's face. The moment his fingers brushed her skin, she suddenly shifted and became Aiden again, now pale and white, soot covered and burned, his naked body red raw and scorched in places, but not unduly so. His clothes were gone, but Remy was quick to note that Aiden's promise ring lay unharmed on its strip of blanket as if by magic. Aiden jerked and he took a violent, shuddering breath, returning to life as he began to tremble from shock and pain. It had been Aiden's body that impacted the ground first, Kimble had remained on top and had been spared the worst of the landing. He lay on top of his lover, held there even now by Aiden's protective embrace. Aiden's eyes were open and sightless, he was still very much alive if not entirely awake. His head lolled to one side as he gasped something unintelligible, inspired by Remy's movement against him, and golden liquid poured from his lips like blood, sizzling a little as it hit the pavement.
The bizzare sight of the golden fluid spilling out from Aiden's mouth suddenly snapped Gambit back to reality. Here was the Dreamer, alive and breathing in spite of his injuries. There was still something left to fight for, something left to be saved. He jerked into action, tugging at Aiden, less than gentle in his haste, and began to drag the two Siskans back towards the stairwell.
Somehow he managed to do this one thing, to haul them the short distance to the stairs. He pulled Aiden's torso up into his arms, Kimble still laying on top, and awkwardly dragged the couple down the stairs, one thump at a time. It was hard going, Aiden's body was hot to the touch as though he was burning with fever, there was a light sheen of gel sweat covering him now. Tears were still streaming from Gambit's eyes, the air was filled with smoke and death, but he could do this one thing. He focused on the task at hand, seeing and thinking of nothing else, and then just when he thought his strength was going to give out, the door behind him opened and Henry was there. "Give them to me."
"Non!" Remy challenged possessively, his voice almost unrecognizable from shock and misery. He wasn't going to give them up, not now, not ever again.
Beast was stronger than that and more than talented enough to see Remy's obvious hysteria. "They're safe now, Remy. Let me take them. Look at me."
Gambit looked up into Henry's eyes, seeing him suddenly. "Quoi?" he questioned stupidly. He had nothing left. " 'Enry?"
"Yes, I'm right here. What happened?"
Gambit was too dazed to even know where to begin. Angel was dead, he couldn't even speak the words, so he came up with the simplest thing he could think of, "Dey got a little melted. Aiden, 'e... Aiden, 'e took in some kind of energy. It change 'im. 'E was flyin' den dey fell."
"It's okay," Henry soothed. He could see Gambit was dazed and unable to properly explain. He would see to Remy after but first he wanted the Siskans out of the stairwell. "Let's get them to bed."
Beast took the bulk of the weight of the unconscious Siskans and they finished the job of moving them inside. Just inside the door, Henry had set up an ad hoc medical station. This door wasn't far from the nearest nurses station and he had taken advantage of that. What had frightened Henry most of all was that so few wounded had come down his way. Procedures for dealing with the wounded had been set in place at the same time that the drill exercises had been worked out. There should have been more folks coming down, but it had been eerily quiet. It made him fear that there was a lot more killing going on out there than wounding and it made him very sad indeed. He was in radio contact with multiple medical stations on this level, each near an exit, and mostly his staff was kept waiting.
Now with a task at hand, Beast lifted Aiden, who still stubbornly refused to release Kimble, and dumped them both onto a waiting gurney. He had no idea how Aiden was even holding onto Kimble so hard, as far as he could tell the Dreamer wasn't even conscious, no matter what Remy might have heard. He was unresponsive and his pupils fixed and dilated, the perfect image of a dead man who simply refused to stop breathing. Of the pair, only Aiden seemed to be so warm, Kimble appeared to be nothing more than merely asleep. A puzzle to be solved later.
"Sit," Henry ordered to Remy, pushing him gently against the wall and helping him as the thief slid to the floor. "Stay here. I'll be right back."
Henry grabbed the gurney with the two Siskans and wheeled it away quickly, heading for the main Med Lab and leaving Remy on his own.
Gambit stayed in place, simply breathing, as hard as it was. He had a moment of quiet, but jerked in numb surprise when he heard an explosion rock the door in front of him, followed by a thump and a groan. He found his feet and charged two cards in his hand, an automatic movement, one he never even felt. He dared to open the door and saw the burnt and smoking bodies of two of Jael's men come tumbling out at his feet. Remy gagged automatically and retched, tossing up what was left of his breakfast, the piece de resistance to his complete and utter uselessness today.
He stood there, frozen at the sight of the mess at his feet, and then burst into hysterical laughter, the second bout for the day. It was all he had left - the anger, sadness and misery had been burnt right out of him. He looked up to see Neal Sharra at the top of the stairs, his brown head quirked to one side. Neal shook his head and said with some amusement, "Well, you gonna come up and fight or just stand there and puke? Come on, X-man, this isn't over yet!"
Remy found himself oddly inspired by this young man's courage in the face of disaster and stumbled over the human wreckage at the door to climb up the steps. Neal held out his hand and Remy took it. "Let's go, mon ami."
"To the end."
Remy smiled. "To de end."
(break)
If Henry had known the real reason he wasn't getting the wounded he was expecting, he would have been very frightened indeed.
Scott Summers, Cyclops to many and the man mostly in charge topside, had seen his share of fights, but nothing on this scale. Most often the X-men fought in small teams and squads or gathered together to fight one large foe, but they had never faced an army like this. This was war for real and Jael was playing for keeps. The field of battle was littered with the dead and dying, the air filled with the screams of the agonized.
What was making this worse was the added threat of energy producers. It was clear early on that Jael had them seriously outclassed on that score. It was only a matter of minutes before Scott was howling into his headset, ordering that the shield generator have its range shortened to increase the strength of the shield. It was enough to keep the main Complex building protected but that was it. Guard shacks and outbuildings were soon burning and the two Blackbirds that had been parked on the tarmac were toast. There were more planes parked below so that wasn't a total loss, but the smoke was huge. He had no idea how this fight was going to escape public notice. It would only be a matter a time before SHIELD showed up making this a whole lot worse. They could use the extra hands in the fighting, but there would be too much legal crap they would have to deal with afterwards.
Assuming they didn't all die first.
Not much for pessimism, Cyclops continued to bawl orders into his headset even as he fired off blasts of energy into the oncoming crowd of fighters. He was the master of multitasking and he was making lightning fast decisions and making quick and accurate defensive shots with his visor. Having eyebeams as a weapon was never more valuable than now, he was all point and shoot as he picked off enemies one at a time and clearing a path.
His forward motion gave him a front row seat for something that chilled him to the bone. Jael had many resources in his disposal for this little fracas. He wasn't going to let a valuable tool like his depowering gun lay idle in a closet. He had ordered it offloaded the Cloud Jumper and it was being moved and powered by two white pilots under the direction of the lovely purple quilled Shakra. Shakra was shouting orders and the pilots were firing indiscriminately into the crowd where the X-men were clumped into larger numbers. Yeah, they were depowering everyone, but it was the Xavier people being hardest hit. The pilots would fire and their victims would fall, momentarily dazed by the weapon even as they became depowered and helpless. Shakra would then order a plasma producer beside her to fire on them, melting the whole group down into slag. No one was walking away and Scott was now losing people by the handful. It had to be stopped and stopped now.
Scott was horrified at the callousness of Jael for doing this but it went part in parcel with the guy's ruthlessness. The man would simply replace those he lost. If Jael lost one man to Xavier's four, it was still to his advantage.
Well, not for long.
"Storm!" Scott shouted into his headset. "I need you in sector H!"
"Coming!" came her swift reply.
Storm, the resident weather witch came on the fly, swooping down and seeing instantly what to do. Though none of the X-men were natural killers, there came a time when there was a need to shoot first and sort it all out later. Any meteorologist or storm chaser would have loved to see the lightning display Storm unleashed on Shakra and her little pals. Not one, but several bolts shot down from the sky and landed right on top of the pilots firing the depowering gun, frying them and it instantly.
Cyclops stepped back, cowering slightly against the cries of shock and agony as the two pilots were electrocuted right before his eyes and the gun exploded into dust, sending a cloud of sparks out and away. Shakra was spared only by jumping forward into the fighting and maneuvering herself into a clump of black uniforms. She was counting on Storm's unwillingness to fry her own teammates in order to exact her revenge and she was right. Storm destroyed the gun and the pilots that powered it but didn't continue her lightning strikes into the crowd. Shakra would live to poison others another day.
Scott almost gave chase but there was just too much going on out here for him to go after just one of Jael's minions. There were plenty of others out here doing damage. In spite of their best efforts, the X-men were getting creamed. They were outclassed and outnumbered. If they didn't pull out of this soon, they were going to lose.
(break)
The fight was raging on, loud and huge. Down below and deep inside the Complex, some of the first rumbles of battle could be heard. Those X-men not quite qualified to fight had been gathered underground near where the hanger bay was for the fighter jets not in regular service. The hanger bay was quite large, several of the planes sat parked and waiting.
When the alarm had sounded, Fallen had immediately lowered the Lucky Dragon down into the hanger and all those expected to report to the hanger had gathered inside her vessel. They were waiting there still, the evacuation order hadn't been given yet.
It was here that Seth was about to have his shining moment, only the young Siskan just didn't know it yet. He was sitting cross legged on the Lucky Dragon's galley room floor, his computer in his lap, surrounded by children, the young ones belonging to the brave fighters up above them. These children were not yet orphans, but judging from the racket upstairs, it was an ever growing possibility. Seth was hoping he could do his share to see that not happen.
Seth had once proposed an idea to Logan, one that Wolverine was much too busy to apply now that they had been taken by surprise. But Seth was a resourceful guy. There was more than one way to see something done. There were at least ten beta X-men here inside the ship and out, helping some of the back up X-men to guard the children and those too weak to fight. One of the guards nearest Seth happened to be Nightcrawler. Kurt, being a teleporter, wasn't a beta by any means, but he was the most familiar to the children. He was here to keep them calm.
Seth got up and approached Nightcrawler nervously. "I've got an idea. Can you 'port me up top?"
Kurt's answer was almost lost under a rumble from above. "Vat? Are you insane?"
"Let me explain."
Kurt was a patient fellow. He allowed Seth to give him his idea before dismissing it outright. It sounded like something from a cheap movie and Kurt's light German accent couldn't hide his disbelief as he asked, "You vant me to 'port us up top, up into one of those ships, so you can plant a virus inside one tiny computer and blow it up?"
"Well... yeah. Something like that. See, I've got the plans for how those Command ships were made. They all have stored Ristle canisters just like the Lucky Dragon does. Those canisters all have controllers on them to keep that energy stable. Any disruption to those stabilizers would cause them to explode."
"This sounds very dangerous, mon fruend. Not to be handled lightly."
Seth just laughed nervously. "That's why I was asking for you to help me."
Kurt actually found himself entertaining the idea. If they could take down those ships, it would deal Jael a serious blow. "Vat about Fallen?"
"She needs to stay with the kids. She can protect them better than I can. I'm no good in a fight."
Kurt nodded. "You don't vant her to know."
"She'll kill me!" Seth explained, covering his outcry with a trembling hand. He was afraid to do this thing he had proposed, but couldn't deny the logic of it. If he could help, he had no choice but to try. "Please, Kurt. I think we can save some lives."
Nightcrawler sighed. He had some priestly inclinations, but he was also an X-man. This was his fight, his people, and Seth's reputation for being a cool headed super brain was well known. Seth was not a reckless man, he meant what he said.
"Ya, okay. Ve sneak away."
(break)
Asher was wandering through clouds of dust and smoke. Explosions rocked the ground beneath his feet as thought the very Earth was dying its own death here among his teammates. It was hard for him to keep his feet, but he kept up his slow, plodding pace away from the nightmare raging behind him.
He hadn't made it downstairs to the shelter of the Complex, hadn't made it anywhere really - he just drifted away behind the front lines of the fight, stumbling off towards the desert in a heartsick daze. All around him came the sounds of the dead and the dying. The X-men were losing, he knew it. He felt all those shines winking out like pinpricks in his soul. All of his new friends were dead or going to die and he had been unable to stop it.
His side was one huge agony where his skin had been torn and the smoke filled sky kept the sun from healing it. Not that Asher cared, all he wanted now was to die.
"Lord..." he begged, his arms wrapped around his soot covered torso. One elbow was rent and bleeding, dripping grey gel blood to the ground. His head was down, hardly looking as he shuffled one tortured step after the other. "Jesus... Takes me, please... Jus' gives me a sign that ya ain't left me behind... that ya still loves me... that I ain't lets ya down... please!"
As if in answer to his spoken prayer, Asher thumped to a halt as he hit something solid. Solid and fleshly. He looked up, seeking the face of the risen Christ, only to find himself looking into the eyes of a black man, one who was curiously happy to see him. This mysterious stranger grinned at him and said, "Well, hello there, son. Welcome to the party. You've had a busy day, I see."
Asher blinked in confusion. There hadn't been anyone there a second ago. This man was tall and brown, dressed in military clothing and carrying not a cross, but a large rainbow colored flag over one shoulder, one that carried the mark of the Royal House of Siska. It was a sight too bizarre for words. Asher shook his head as more tears streamed from his eyes. "Are – are you Jesus?"
The man burst into laughter. "Now, that's rich. I've been called many things, but Jesus? Sorry, son. What you've got here is plain old Butch Madison at your service. Why don't you take a load off? It's time the rest of us got to work anyhow." Asher blinked again as the air around him rippled and blurred and then he was standing in front of a whole host of men. Help had arrived. Butch contined to speak, amusement in his voice as he said, "Cheeree here will keep you company. Look after her for me will you? I'll be back for her shortly."
Asher broke into new sobs. He didn't know if he should be relieved or not. As far as he was concerned, these people had come here to die.
"Don't be afraid," Cheeree said, coming forward, her arms open. "My Master's gonna saves us all."
Asher spilled forward into them, his heart soaring at the sight of her. He had long sensed the presence of a Red out there somewhere and now here she was, real and alive in his arms. "You don't ever takes a Red to a fight," he scolded, but there was no one there to listen to him. Butch's men had moved on to join the fray.