Title: Home from the Hill, Chapter 1
Author: Ramos
Rating: PG for language
Category: Adventure
Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Marvel Comics, and no profit is made from their use.
Author's Note: I'm not even going to get into the whole 'how do they understand the native language of a planet they've never even heard of' dilemma. Hey, they never bothered on Star Trek, and they have a lot bigger budget than I do.
Oh, and ~~ indicates mental telepathy.
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
ROBERT LOUIS STEPHENSON
1
The bar was the same as any other bar between Westchester and Timbuktu, but the only redeeming quality to this one was the fact that it was the closest to his cabin in the wilds of Canada. The jukebox still played tunes that had been out of date for years, the bathroom wasn't fit for human habitation, and the whiskey was strong. No, that was really the best part. It was almost strong enough to make a man forget.
Wolverine signaled for another, and the aging peroxide blonde behind the counter filled his glass without comment. Night after night – not every night, but close enough – he came in, drank enough to kill a man, then walked out with perfectly steady feet and the dismal cloud that surrounded him intact. At first she'd tried to raise some conversation with the sullen man, but after being continually rebuffed, she'd taken the hint and filled his glass without removing the cigarette from her wrinkled, red- lipsticked lips.
~Wolverine.~
Wolverine tossed back the amber liquid and considered ignoring the faint voice in his head. He was far enough away from Charles Xavier that the man might believe he was out of reach.
~Wolverine.~
~Go away, Chuck.~
~Logan. You must return to the mansion as soon as possible.~
The man known as Wolverine hunched his shoulders and clenched the glass tightly in his hand. ~Like hell. I don't care if Magneto is tap dancing on yer front lawn, Chuck. I ain't going back there.~
~We found them.~
"What!!!" he shouted, actually saying it aloud. ~Where? Is she all right?~ he demanded mentally, ignoring the bartender and the other patrons staring at him from the other end of the bar.
~Pagnatolia, and she's fine, as is Bishop.~
~Pagna-wha? Izzat in South America?~
A faint sigh echoed through the mental connection. ~It's a colonial outpost of the Shi'ar Empire.~
Logan thought about it.
~If I ever see that motherless bow-legged bastard Gateway again, I'm gonna gut 'im.~
~I find it hard to disagree with you, as it seems he was most likely responsible for Jubilee and Bishop's disappearance in the first place. However it happened, Scott and Jean have already taken off in the Raven. They will rendezvous with a Shi'ar cruiser. Hopefully, they'll be able to pick up our missing pair and have them home soon.~
~Hopefully, ya said. Is there a problem?~
~I'm not sure, but I received the distinct impression from Deathbird that Jubilee had been causing some… difficulties.~
A slow smile crossed Wolverine's face for the first time in the eight months his protégé and closest friend had been missing. ~That's my girl!~
**********
Scott and Jean Summers followed in the wake of the officious Shi'ar commandant Brial and her satellite flunky, weary of the officer's arrogant attitude after having been exposed to it for less than an hour now. The woman's dramatic white and black skin coloration was typical of a Shi'ar, and many of the officers in this compound were similarly of non-native origin. The majority of the military here were local, though, and while their skin and hair color were widely varied, they were physically closer to the human norm, allowing the X-men to pass with little staring or hostile reaction. Interestingly, Scott noticed the locals did not salute their superior officer, while every Shi'ar they passed drew him or herself up and gave the respectful gesture that was completely ignored.
God, he just wanted to collect Jubilee and Bishop and get the hell out of here. The Shi'ar expansion had finally put down the local rebellion, which was a vicious if not very popular uprising. The planet was just leaving an agrarian stage and moving towards a technology based economy, and the old ruling class had been adamantly resistant to being absorbed by the Empire. The thought of his youngest team member caught in the revolution, with only Bishop to keep her safe, made his gut jump with the fear of what could have happened.
Wolverine had been adamant that she was still alive, saying he'd know if she were dead. Charles Xavier had admitted that the pair's close relationship could have established a bond similar to the psychic link that he and Jean shared, but the fact that Logan and Jubilee were not physically intimate, and therefore not as closely linked, had allowed doubt to creep in. As the months had gone by without any sign, even Wolverine had begun to lose hope and had taken off to his cabin in the north rather than face the seemingly empty house without the vibrant presence of his old partner.
Commandant Brial and her ensign aide turned down yet another corridor of this sprawling complex and entered a wide avenue full of milling troops. The locals were even more numerous here, and the Commandant equally ignored, but Jean did not miss the double take from one younger soldier who caught sight of the team's signature X'ed circle on her belt. Puzzled, she watched him out of the corner of her eye as she passed, and caught the same symbol on the man's tattered shirt, this time on his upper left chest, near (she supposed) his heart.
~Scott, did you see that?~
~What?~
Obviously not, she thought to herself, then spied another on a woman ahead of them.
~That woman. She has an X on her shirt.~
Her husband was quiet for a moment, his gaze flicking over the woman who looked to be a good fifteen years older than himself, but still capable if judged by the strong arms revealed by a worn shirt. She was loading a floating pallet with some boxes, and did not look up as they passed her. A man wheeled out more supplies, and dumped them with a low comment to his companion.
~He's got one, too.~
~It's a simple symbol, Jean. And the Professor didn't exactly put a galactic copyright on it.~
The avenue widened again, opening into a circular cul-de-sac, cross- sectioned with traffic patterns that led away to other corridors. In between, several broad doors opened into briefing rooms while other doors were closed, presumably over similar areas. Across the open expanse, three men and one young woman, possibly still in her teens, crouched or sat against the far wall. Near them stood a broad shouldered, dark-skinned giant, the tattooed "M" over one eye leaving no doubt to his identity. Scott raised one hand to hail him when the identity of the man at Bishop's shoulder sunk in.
"What in the HELL?" Scott muttered, and felt his wife's disbelief boiling across their shared link as they took in the sight of Victor Creed, also known as Sabretooth, standing shoulder to shoulder with their missing companion. The two of them faced in opposite directions, and the entire vicinity was covered under their combined vigilance. Nearly seven feet tall, he was the only person they knew who could tower over the usually imposing Bishop. Even as they paused, the hairy blond nudged the man next to him, drawing Bishop's attention to their presence. The dark, unshaven chin jerked once in recognition, but did not move towards them.
"There are your people, X-Man," declared Brial in her smug tone. "Take them, and get them off my planet."
"Where's Jubilee?" Jean demanded.
Brial turned to her aide, who consulted an electronic data pad and answered in a soft voice.
"I believe she had negotiations to settle. She should be out soon."
They moved towards the unlikely paired men just as the doors to one side opened. A local with a deep olive complexion and wearing an clean, intact commander's uniform stepped out, still conversing with the smaller woman beside him. They clasped wrists in agreement, then the older man moved to one side as over a dozen tall, broad-shouldered soldiers with varying shades of orange-striped skin exited the room. The shabby bunch faced the woman with feathery black hair, then at a grunted signal, saluted as one, their right fist striking the circled X on their left pectoral. They held the salute until Jubilee returned it, then turned as a unit and followed the older officer down one of the corridors.
"Jubilee!" Jean shouted with relief, and overwhelming joy.
Jubilee's head twisted instantly and flashed a huge grin as she caught site of the couple hurrying towards her, then abruptly disappeared as the four lounging soldiers surged to their feet. Scott and Jean pulled up short at the ragged, hostile group stepped between themselves and Jubilee. Reflexively, Cyclops fingered his visor.
"Guys. Chill." The words were typical Jubilee, but the tone of command was something Jean had seldom heard from the smaller woman. The four paused, then reluctantly parted, once again revealing the object of nearly a year's search. Jean braced herself for one of Jubilee's exuberant hugs, and was surprised as only her arm was grasped by the wrist, just as Scott's was with Jubilee's other hand.
"I am so glad to see you guys, you can't believe it," she said fervently.
"Oh, honey, we've been looking for you for so long!" Jean's smile faltered as she reached out to touch the long white scar that creased Jubilee's high cheekbone.
"Wha… Oh, yeah, that." She grinned ruefully, revealing the gap of a broken incisor tooth in direct line with the scar. "I bobbed when I should have weaved. Wolvie woulda smacked me, it was really dumb. Did he, uh, come with you?" Hope and resignation appeared briefly, then were quickly gone.
"I'm sorry, no, he's not." Scott knew how much it must hurt to not have him here when she needed him. "He was in Canada when we got the call from Deathbird. We didn't want to wait for him, but he ought to be home in time to welcome you back."
"No problem. I really, really missed you guys." She crossed her arms, as though restraining the impulse to hug them. Her gap-toothed smile reinforcing the urchin features of her face, but Jean was appalled at the changes she saw in the woman she'd thought of as a baby sister for many years. A half-healed burn puckered a palm's breadth of her bare bicep, the corded muscle underneath the healing skin bunching convulsively. Jubilee's normally trim physique had been pared of all excess, nearly skeletal beneath sinewy muscles. Her collarbones stood up in sharp contrast under the open neck of her sleeveless shirt, and a gun belt carrying a well-worn sidearm was slung diagonally across prominently pointed hipbones.
"Well, there your people are, safe as can be," Brial interrupted. "You may take them home at any time.'
Jean could feel Scott's irritation, but he concealed it from the Shi'ar woman. "Thank you, Commandant." He glanced at Sabretooth with some trepidation, but figured explanations could come later. "Anytime you're ready, Jube."
"Buddy, I've been ready for a looong time." Jubilee signaled to the four soldiers still watching them suspiciously, and they immediately picked up their gear and slung it over their shoulders. Turning back, she caught Scott's confused reaction, and saw it mirrored by Jean. She was perfectly still for the space of three heartbeats, then turned to the tall Shi'ar commandant.
"You didn't transmit my message, did you." Her voice was calm and even, but one did not have to be a psychic to feel the anger in Jubilee's voice.
Brial looked down her nose at the young woman who barely came to her shoulder. "I am not a messenger service."
"What, you couldn't break the encrypt?" Jean felt the flash of emotion from the young aide, and knew Jubilee had the truth of it. "I need to talk to them, privately. Please be so good as to give me a moment?" The polite tones abruptly disappeared from her voice. "You can wait over there."
Brial stiffened. "You can speak to them later. You must leave. Now."
The young Asian woman did not move, but her expression hardened and suddenly the air in the room seemed warmer, almost hot. "Lady, after these last few days, I have taken all the shit from you I'm gonna take. So either you back the hell off and give me five minutes, or we're gonna go down on this - right here, right now."
"Jubilee," Scott murmured, warningly. He was completely ignored by both, though Jean knew Jubilee had heard and then dismissed him. The Shi'ar's long white hand moved towards her weapon, and Jubilee's palms came up. The air around Brial began to swirl in hot shimmers.
Brial's eyes narrowed. "You would not dare."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, Deathbird will split me in half if I kill you." Jubilee replied with menacing sarcasm. "But in the meantime, you're still a crispy critter, and junior over there wakes up as a lieutenant tomorrow."
The deadly cold tones were shocking, as was the intense heat building around Brial. The aide's hand slid down to her own sidearm, and the soldiers behind Jubilee moved subtly as well. High-pitched whines sprang from several sources, one of them from the plasma rifle held in Creed's huge hands. The tension quickly built to a nerve jangling level.
It was at that moment Jean realized that Creed and Bishop both wore the X'ed circle stenciled on the front of their shirts, as did the four behind Jubilee.
~Scott. The soldiers. They're hers.~
Wordless confusion and concern returned through their link. ~They're following Jubilee?~
~Yes. I think… I think ALL of them were hers.~ In her mind, the memory replayed of the dozens of warriors seen with the same symbol.
The tense tableau before them suddenly broke as Brial snapped "Very well," and stalked off, surreptitiously wiping the sweat from her lip and brow. The commandant was furious, but apparently unwilling to further the confrontation.
Scott waited while the Shi'ar woman removed herself from eavesdropping distance, using the moment to take a good long look at the youngest member of his team. The normally effervescent woman in front of him was still the same Jubilee, but the more he looked, the more changes he noticed. Her clothing was the same leather and rough spun fabric he'd seen on a lot of the soldiers in the compound. She did not sport the X'ed circle on her shirt, but instead wore a band, made of familiar blue and yellow fabric, to keep her wildly unkempt hair out of her face. The X-man symbol was centered on the top of her head, half hidden in the stray, raven-black locks. And sprinkled like tiny snowflakes, white hairs were strewn through her twenty-one year old head.
The scar on her face drew his attention further down, and on closer inspection he could see the tiny lines forming around her eyes that spoke of heartbreaking toil and tragedy. The eyes themselves were red-rimmed.
"When's the last time you got any sleep?" he asked roughly, furious with himself at misreading the situation. Something was definitely out of kilter, and it went far beyond having an old and deadly enemy backing up one of his people. When she paused, thinking, it was obvious that it had been some time. She shook her head.
"It doesn't matter. The long and the short of it is, these are my people. I've made arrangements for everyone else, either getting them new contracts or getting them back to their homes. These four," and she indicated the small group behind her, "they don't have anywhere else to go. And I'm not going to leave them to Brial's mercy, either. I want to take them back home with me."
Whoa, that got his attention.
"Jubilee, these are people, not some stray cats…." He broke off when she stepped up to his face, her own tense but her voice even.
"I know that. The twins are outcasts, and Chibar there is the last of his tribe. They have nowhere to go, and I will not abandon them. That's why I tried to send you that message." She paused, searching for words. "If you don't want them to come with us, then I'm staying here."
Scott's jaw twitched as he kept back a snapped reply. ~Jean?~ he appealed mentally. ~Is she serious?~
~Yes, she is. Deadly serious. And Scott… ~ she paused, and he knew she was feeling the emotional and psychic currents around her. ~Scott, if she isn't off this planet in a couple of hours, Brial will kill her.~
Jubilee snorted. "Well, she can try," she added dryly.
A harsh laugh forced its way out of Cyclops' chest. Apparently her pyrotechnic powers weren't the only thing that had improved in the last eight months. He eyed the young woman in front of him again. The absolute confidence was beyond bravado. It was a surety of a commander whose followers would back her move against the Shi'ar governor's chief officer, and he began to get an inkling of a much larger picture. Funny, when they arrived, he'd expected to have to bail Jubilee out of the local jail. Now, he wasn't sure if perhaps the lively individual they all loved hadn't been up to something far more monumental.
"Okay, let's go." The words were out of his mouth before he realized he'd even made the decision. "Him, too?" He indicated Creed, still standing shoulder to shoulder with Bishop.
"Yeah, him too. Thank you." The relief and utter sincerity in her tone caused him to look at her again. The dark indigo eyes were much older than the eight months could account for.
"You have a tale to tell, missy."
The scarred side of her face curved into a lopsided smile. "That I do, One- Eye," she shot back.
Author: Ramos
Rating: PG for language
Category: Adventure
Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Marvel Comics, and no profit is made from their use.
Author's Note: I'm not even going to get into the whole 'how do they understand the native language of a planet they've never even heard of' dilemma. Hey, they never bothered on Star Trek, and they have a lot bigger budget than I do.
Oh, and ~~ indicates mental telepathy.
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
ROBERT LOUIS STEPHENSON
1
The bar was the same as any other bar between Westchester and Timbuktu, but the only redeeming quality to this one was the fact that it was the closest to his cabin in the wilds of Canada. The jukebox still played tunes that had been out of date for years, the bathroom wasn't fit for human habitation, and the whiskey was strong. No, that was really the best part. It was almost strong enough to make a man forget.
Wolverine signaled for another, and the aging peroxide blonde behind the counter filled his glass without comment. Night after night – not every night, but close enough – he came in, drank enough to kill a man, then walked out with perfectly steady feet and the dismal cloud that surrounded him intact. At first she'd tried to raise some conversation with the sullen man, but after being continually rebuffed, she'd taken the hint and filled his glass without removing the cigarette from her wrinkled, red- lipsticked lips.
~Wolverine.~
Wolverine tossed back the amber liquid and considered ignoring the faint voice in his head. He was far enough away from Charles Xavier that the man might believe he was out of reach.
~Wolverine.~
~Go away, Chuck.~
~Logan. You must return to the mansion as soon as possible.~
The man known as Wolverine hunched his shoulders and clenched the glass tightly in his hand. ~Like hell. I don't care if Magneto is tap dancing on yer front lawn, Chuck. I ain't going back there.~
~We found them.~
"What!!!" he shouted, actually saying it aloud. ~Where? Is she all right?~ he demanded mentally, ignoring the bartender and the other patrons staring at him from the other end of the bar.
~Pagnatolia, and she's fine, as is Bishop.~
~Pagna-wha? Izzat in South America?~
A faint sigh echoed through the mental connection. ~It's a colonial outpost of the Shi'ar Empire.~
Logan thought about it.
~If I ever see that motherless bow-legged bastard Gateway again, I'm gonna gut 'im.~
~I find it hard to disagree with you, as it seems he was most likely responsible for Jubilee and Bishop's disappearance in the first place. However it happened, Scott and Jean have already taken off in the Raven. They will rendezvous with a Shi'ar cruiser. Hopefully, they'll be able to pick up our missing pair and have them home soon.~
~Hopefully, ya said. Is there a problem?~
~I'm not sure, but I received the distinct impression from Deathbird that Jubilee had been causing some… difficulties.~
A slow smile crossed Wolverine's face for the first time in the eight months his protégé and closest friend had been missing. ~That's my girl!~
**********
Scott and Jean Summers followed in the wake of the officious Shi'ar commandant Brial and her satellite flunky, weary of the officer's arrogant attitude after having been exposed to it for less than an hour now. The woman's dramatic white and black skin coloration was typical of a Shi'ar, and many of the officers in this compound were similarly of non-native origin. The majority of the military here were local, though, and while their skin and hair color were widely varied, they were physically closer to the human norm, allowing the X-men to pass with little staring or hostile reaction. Interestingly, Scott noticed the locals did not salute their superior officer, while every Shi'ar they passed drew him or herself up and gave the respectful gesture that was completely ignored.
God, he just wanted to collect Jubilee and Bishop and get the hell out of here. The Shi'ar expansion had finally put down the local rebellion, which was a vicious if not very popular uprising. The planet was just leaving an agrarian stage and moving towards a technology based economy, and the old ruling class had been adamantly resistant to being absorbed by the Empire. The thought of his youngest team member caught in the revolution, with only Bishop to keep her safe, made his gut jump with the fear of what could have happened.
Wolverine had been adamant that she was still alive, saying he'd know if she were dead. Charles Xavier had admitted that the pair's close relationship could have established a bond similar to the psychic link that he and Jean shared, but the fact that Logan and Jubilee were not physically intimate, and therefore not as closely linked, had allowed doubt to creep in. As the months had gone by without any sign, even Wolverine had begun to lose hope and had taken off to his cabin in the north rather than face the seemingly empty house without the vibrant presence of his old partner.
Commandant Brial and her ensign aide turned down yet another corridor of this sprawling complex and entered a wide avenue full of milling troops. The locals were even more numerous here, and the Commandant equally ignored, but Jean did not miss the double take from one younger soldier who caught sight of the team's signature X'ed circle on her belt. Puzzled, she watched him out of the corner of her eye as she passed, and caught the same symbol on the man's tattered shirt, this time on his upper left chest, near (she supposed) his heart.
~Scott, did you see that?~
~What?~
Obviously not, she thought to herself, then spied another on a woman ahead of them.
~That woman. She has an X on her shirt.~
Her husband was quiet for a moment, his gaze flicking over the woman who looked to be a good fifteen years older than himself, but still capable if judged by the strong arms revealed by a worn shirt. She was loading a floating pallet with some boxes, and did not look up as they passed her. A man wheeled out more supplies, and dumped them with a low comment to his companion.
~He's got one, too.~
~It's a simple symbol, Jean. And the Professor didn't exactly put a galactic copyright on it.~
The avenue widened again, opening into a circular cul-de-sac, cross- sectioned with traffic patterns that led away to other corridors. In between, several broad doors opened into briefing rooms while other doors were closed, presumably over similar areas. Across the open expanse, three men and one young woman, possibly still in her teens, crouched or sat against the far wall. Near them stood a broad shouldered, dark-skinned giant, the tattooed "M" over one eye leaving no doubt to his identity. Scott raised one hand to hail him when the identity of the man at Bishop's shoulder sunk in.
"What in the HELL?" Scott muttered, and felt his wife's disbelief boiling across their shared link as they took in the sight of Victor Creed, also known as Sabretooth, standing shoulder to shoulder with their missing companion. The two of them faced in opposite directions, and the entire vicinity was covered under their combined vigilance. Nearly seven feet tall, he was the only person they knew who could tower over the usually imposing Bishop. Even as they paused, the hairy blond nudged the man next to him, drawing Bishop's attention to their presence. The dark, unshaven chin jerked once in recognition, but did not move towards them.
"There are your people, X-Man," declared Brial in her smug tone. "Take them, and get them off my planet."
"Where's Jubilee?" Jean demanded.
Brial turned to her aide, who consulted an electronic data pad and answered in a soft voice.
"I believe she had negotiations to settle. She should be out soon."
They moved towards the unlikely paired men just as the doors to one side opened. A local with a deep olive complexion and wearing an clean, intact commander's uniform stepped out, still conversing with the smaller woman beside him. They clasped wrists in agreement, then the older man moved to one side as over a dozen tall, broad-shouldered soldiers with varying shades of orange-striped skin exited the room. The shabby bunch faced the woman with feathery black hair, then at a grunted signal, saluted as one, their right fist striking the circled X on their left pectoral. They held the salute until Jubilee returned it, then turned as a unit and followed the older officer down one of the corridors.
"Jubilee!" Jean shouted with relief, and overwhelming joy.
Jubilee's head twisted instantly and flashed a huge grin as she caught site of the couple hurrying towards her, then abruptly disappeared as the four lounging soldiers surged to their feet. Scott and Jean pulled up short at the ragged, hostile group stepped between themselves and Jubilee. Reflexively, Cyclops fingered his visor.
"Guys. Chill." The words were typical Jubilee, but the tone of command was something Jean had seldom heard from the smaller woman. The four paused, then reluctantly parted, once again revealing the object of nearly a year's search. Jean braced herself for one of Jubilee's exuberant hugs, and was surprised as only her arm was grasped by the wrist, just as Scott's was with Jubilee's other hand.
"I am so glad to see you guys, you can't believe it," she said fervently.
"Oh, honey, we've been looking for you for so long!" Jean's smile faltered as she reached out to touch the long white scar that creased Jubilee's high cheekbone.
"Wha… Oh, yeah, that." She grinned ruefully, revealing the gap of a broken incisor tooth in direct line with the scar. "I bobbed when I should have weaved. Wolvie woulda smacked me, it was really dumb. Did he, uh, come with you?" Hope and resignation appeared briefly, then were quickly gone.
"I'm sorry, no, he's not." Scott knew how much it must hurt to not have him here when she needed him. "He was in Canada when we got the call from Deathbird. We didn't want to wait for him, but he ought to be home in time to welcome you back."
"No problem. I really, really missed you guys." She crossed her arms, as though restraining the impulse to hug them. Her gap-toothed smile reinforcing the urchin features of her face, but Jean was appalled at the changes she saw in the woman she'd thought of as a baby sister for many years. A half-healed burn puckered a palm's breadth of her bare bicep, the corded muscle underneath the healing skin bunching convulsively. Jubilee's normally trim physique had been pared of all excess, nearly skeletal beneath sinewy muscles. Her collarbones stood up in sharp contrast under the open neck of her sleeveless shirt, and a gun belt carrying a well-worn sidearm was slung diagonally across prominently pointed hipbones.
"Well, there your people are, safe as can be," Brial interrupted. "You may take them home at any time.'
Jean could feel Scott's irritation, but he concealed it from the Shi'ar woman. "Thank you, Commandant." He glanced at Sabretooth with some trepidation, but figured explanations could come later. "Anytime you're ready, Jube."
"Buddy, I've been ready for a looong time." Jubilee signaled to the four soldiers still watching them suspiciously, and they immediately picked up their gear and slung it over their shoulders. Turning back, she caught Scott's confused reaction, and saw it mirrored by Jean. She was perfectly still for the space of three heartbeats, then turned to the tall Shi'ar commandant.
"You didn't transmit my message, did you." Her voice was calm and even, but one did not have to be a psychic to feel the anger in Jubilee's voice.
Brial looked down her nose at the young woman who barely came to her shoulder. "I am not a messenger service."
"What, you couldn't break the encrypt?" Jean felt the flash of emotion from the young aide, and knew Jubilee had the truth of it. "I need to talk to them, privately. Please be so good as to give me a moment?" The polite tones abruptly disappeared from her voice. "You can wait over there."
Brial stiffened. "You can speak to them later. You must leave. Now."
The young Asian woman did not move, but her expression hardened and suddenly the air in the room seemed warmer, almost hot. "Lady, after these last few days, I have taken all the shit from you I'm gonna take. So either you back the hell off and give me five minutes, or we're gonna go down on this - right here, right now."
"Jubilee," Scott murmured, warningly. He was completely ignored by both, though Jean knew Jubilee had heard and then dismissed him. The Shi'ar's long white hand moved towards her weapon, and Jubilee's palms came up. The air around Brial began to swirl in hot shimmers.
Brial's eyes narrowed. "You would not dare."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, Deathbird will split me in half if I kill you." Jubilee replied with menacing sarcasm. "But in the meantime, you're still a crispy critter, and junior over there wakes up as a lieutenant tomorrow."
The deadly cold tones were shocking, as was the intense heat building around Brial. The aide's hand slid down to her own sidearm, and the soldiers behind Jubilee moved subtly as well. High-pitched whines sprang from several sources, one of them from the plasma rifle held in Creed's huge hands. The tension quickly built to a nerve jangling level.
It was at that moment Jean realized that Creed and Bishop both wore the X'ed circle stenciled on the front of their shirts, as did the four behind Jubilee.
~Scott. The soldiers. They're hers.~
Wordless confusion and concern returned through their link. ~They're following Jubilee?~
~Yes. I think… I think ALL of them were hers.~ In her mind, the memory replayed of the dozens of warriors seen with the same symbol.
The tense tableau before them suddenly broke as Brial snapped "Very well," and stalked off, surreptitiously wiping the sweat from her lip and brow. The commandant was furious, but apparently unwilling to further the confrontation.
Scott waited while the Shi'ar woman removed herself from eavesdropping distance, using the moment to take a good long look at the youngest member of his team. The normally effervescent woman in front of him was still the same Jubilee, but the more he looked, the more changes he noticed. Her clothing was the same leather and rough spun fabric he'd seen on a lot of the soldiers in the compound. She did not sport the X'ed circle on her shirt, but instead wore a band, made of familiar blue and yellow fabric, to keep her wildly unkempt hair out of her face. The X-man symbol was centered on the top of her head, half hidden in the stray, raven-black locks. And sprinkled like tiny snowflakes, white hairs were strewn through her twenty-one year old head.
The scar on her face drew his attention further down, and on closer inspection he could see the tiny lines forming around her eyes that spoke of heartbreaking toil and tragedy. The eyes themselves were red-rimmed.
"When's the last time you got any sleep?" he asked roughly, furious with himself at misreading the situation. Something was definitely out of kilter, and it went far beyond having an old and deadly enemy backing up one of his people. When she paused, thinking, it was obvious that it had been some time. She shook her head.
"It doesn't matter. The long and the short of it is, these are my people. I've made arrangements for everyone else, either getting them new contracts or getting them back to their homes. These four," and she indicated the small group behind her, "they don't have anywhere else to go. And I'm not going to leave them to Brial's mercy, either. I want to take them back home with me."
Whoa, that got his attention.
"Jubilee, these are people, not some stray cats…." He broke off when she stepped up to his face, her own tense but her voice even.
"I know that. The twins are outcasts, and Chibar there is the last of his tribe. They have nowhere to go, and I will not abandon them. That's why I tried to send you that message." She paused, searching for words. "If you don't want them to come with us, then I'm staying here."
Scott's jaw twitched as he kept back a snapped reply. ~Jean?~ he appealed mentally. ~Is she serious?~
~Yes, she is. Deadly serious. And Scott… ~ she paused, and he knew she was feeling the emotional and psychic currents around her. ~Scott, if she isn't off this planet in a couple of hours, Brial will kill her.~
Jubilee snorted. "Well, she can try," she added dryly.
A harsh laugh forced its way out of Cyclops' chest. Apparently her pyrotechnic powers weren't the only thing that had improved in the last eight months. He eyed the young woman in front of him again. The absolute confidence was beyond bravado. It was a surety of a commander whose followers would back her move against the Shi'ar governor's chief officer, and he began to get an inkling of a much larger picture. Funny, when they arrived, he'd expected to have to bail Jubilee out of the local jail. Now, he wasn't sure if perhaps the lively individual they all loved hadn't been up to something far more monumental.
"Okay, let's go." The words were out of his mouth before he realized he'd even made the decision. "Him, too?" He indicated Creed, still standing shoulder to shoulder with Bishop.
"Yeah, him too. Thank you." The relief and utter sincerity in her tone caused him to look at her again. The dark indigo eyes were much older than the eight months could account for.
"You have a tale to tell, missy."
The scarred side of her face curved into a lopsided smile. "That I do, One- Eye," she shot back.