CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:

Defend or Condemn?

ON THE BLACKBIRD

Steve Aswell sat calmly on the black jet, legs crossed, looking every bit an aristocrat. Storm sat in the pilots seat, eyes obediently on the clouds infront of her and the Professor sat calmly in his wheelchair which was anchored momentarily to the planes floor.

"I need to know that you won't do anything rash, Mr. Aswell." The Professor said calmly but firmly. "Victor only has the best intentions in mind for Miss. Aswell."

Steve said nothing, simply sitting silently, eyes shut.

Ororo looked nervously from the Professor to the new passenger before looking back to the clouds. Ever the diplomat, she attempted to try to make conversation. "So what is it you do, Mr. Aswell?"

"I guess you could say I work in world security." Steve said dryly, his voice showing that he was NOT amused.

"I see….." Storm said, biting her lower lip and floundering for conversation. "How long have you known Miss. Andrews?"

"A while."

Another uncomfortable pause.

"I'm only trying to be polite, Mr. Aswell." Storm said gently. "There's no reason we can't get along."

Steve forced a smile at her. "Forgive my curtness, please. I am only worried for my petite soeur."

"Well, if the Professor thinks she's fine, I'm sure she is." Storm said gently.

"Are you aware of who Sabretooth is?" Steve asked a little coldly.

"More than most." Ororo answered truthfully, wincing as she remembered the feral mutants hands around her throat at Liberty Island.

"Then you should understand my concern."

"And as an agent of S.W.O.R.D. you should be very familiar with the biology of a feral mutant." Professor Xavier put in very firmly, determined to at least make Steve give the feral mutant the benefit of a doubt. "Victors every instinct is to care and provide for her, to do anything otherwise is completely against his nature."

"Just like the millions he murdered was in his nature?" Steve asked coolly.

"You are aware of the blood-lust a feral mutant suffers from, I believe." Professor Xavier responded, just as coolly.

"I am also aware that these blood-lusts can be taken care of by extensive hunting of dangerous prey, not necessarily humans. Victor Creed did not HAVE to murder millions of people. He could have quite simply hunted."

"There are not as many wild territories as there used to be."

"Why are you so determined to defend him?" Steve demanded.

"Why are YOU so determined to condemn him?" Professor Xavier countered.

Storm was extremely grateful when she spotted the clearing where Logan stood, then goggled at the pile of game they had made. "Well, it looks like the hunting went well." She said dryly.

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Logan looked up to see the Blackbird hovering in the air and grunted. "About time." He rubbed at his head gingerly, the image of a younger Victor playing with a much younger him still pounding in his brain, giving him one heck've a migraine. "There's no way that could have happened."

He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and looked up at the Blackbird. The high-tech jet was eerily quiet, the absolute paragon in flight, having the ability to go invisible with a cloaking device, let out no sound, and even reflect light so that it did not leave a shadow….. It also came with a device that would allow things to be loaded into the jet even when it was very high up in the air.

`Can ya hear me, Chuck?` Logan 'thought' out.

*I hear you, Logan.* came the Professors reply. *Your mind is in turmoil. What has distressed you?*

`Don't worry about it, just send down the loading bay, we've got quite a few deer and some other things to feed the kids.`

Logan could feel the Professors mental sigh. *I sincerely hope you did not upset the eco-balance with your hunting.*

`Ya gotta give me more credit than that, Chuck.` Logan grumbled.

*Where is Victor and Miss. Andrews?* Charles mental voice asked as a part of the bottom of the jet seemed to detach and began to lower slowly down to the ground.

`They'll be along in a bit, I expect.` Logan answered grumpily, heaving one deer carcass up in his arms in a fire-mans carry and dropping it onto the platform.

As soon as he had finished that mental statement, out came Victor looking very intimidating in his hunting furs, a disgruntled Cassie pinned in his arms along with a bunch of almost-wilting wild-flowers.

*I should let you know,* Charles told Logan privately. *Mr. Steve Aswell is here on the jet with us.*

Logan cast a quick side-glance to the older feral mutant. `Yer not gonna tell Sabretooth?`

*I believe it is best if he finds out once he gets up here.* the Professor replied.

Logan shrugged and heaved another deer carcass onto the platform. If the Professor thought it was safer to have a ticked-off Sabretooth in a confined space rather than in an open space…..well, he DID pay for the jet, so he could pay for the repairs.

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VOCABULARY:

PARAGON: the absolute best

TURMOIL: n. a noisy or confused condition