Chapter One: Late-Night Misunderstandings
(or alternatively, "Here There Be Dragons")

by: akheliades

Synopsis: Shatterstar's nocturnal routine gets interrupted by a mysterious visitor, and a misunderstanding ensues concerning dragons.

Comments are welcome. Tell me what you think!


It was a fact that literacy did not present a problem for any of the residents of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. Many of them hailed from all parts of the world, and some from beyond. To be multi-lingual was the standard of the mutant teams, all of whom operated internationally; as per Professor Xavier's teachings, open communication was preferred over violence in settling conflict.

Well, ideally.

None of this could explain, however, why Shatterstar found himself outside an occupied Danger Room -- hearing but not adding to the sounds of battle and war. The situation reminded him a little of the waiting line for an airplane lavatory, and he did not care for them. There was one fundamental difference to this situation, however.

He read once more from the digital display next to the sliding doors of the Room, which currently refused to slide.

"Shatterstar: Tuesday, 03:00 (am)."


Something here was amiss. Someone had assumed his regular and rightful time-slot in that wonderful training room. Whether deliberate or not, this was at the very least a severe breach of etiquette amongst members of the X-Teams.

He had learned this fact very well, as he had inadvertently done this very thing once. It had led to an enraged Wolverine, some substantial combat damage to various parts of the mansion, a stern reprimand from his leader Cable, and a slightly asymmetric set of cracked ribs and bruises on his arms and body. Logan later apologized for his actions and in a rare gesture of good-will, took him to one of the local taverns for "a beer on him," which stretched to a pitcher or two as that evening went on.

Shatterstar was not one for beer or spirits, but accepted the kind gesture on the older man's part. He likened it to times before, where Viking warriors would share flasks of mead. In a rare fancy that night, he had wondered if it were possible that Logan had seen such time and ritual before, with his own eyes.

He had dismissed the idea immediately -- the man surely wasn't that old.


Since that misunderstanding, Shatterstar paid more respect to the protocols of the mansion residents. At the very least, it made for easier living: fewer reprimands and fewer cracked ribs. On the other hand, some human customs remained just as difficult to understand as before; he feared that to his own habit, they would always be so.

But this breach of conduct was uncalled for. It was rare that anyone would contend for training time with him; the last being Bishop, when both of them had vied for the mostly-unpopular Friday afternoon time-slot, and success or not, even that was done according to the mansion rules. If pressed, he could likely consider the current matter as some dishonor to his warrior code.

No one pressed, however, and he decided to reason the matter out. Few of his team-mates or X-Men, for that matter, would be active at this time of night. Of those that were, they more or less stuck to their own routines, as he did.

Logan would likely be on his usual solitary sojourn through the neighboring wooden areas, communing with the natural side of his temperament. He typically returned at day-break, none the worse for wear by his healing abilities, and more than ready for one of Cyclops' infamous early-morning workouts. Shatterstar could only admire the very stamina of that man.

LeBeau would likely be engaging in the local night life in nearby Manhattan. He too returned at dawn, a bit rumpled and fragrant and with a weaker jaunt in his step, yet he was still quite capable in the same morning workouts. Shatterstar disdained the man's personal habits, but could hardly fail to acknowledge those impromptu talents on the battlefield.

Bishop would be out for the second hour of his nightly patrols. There had been a time in the first days of X-Force's residence in the mansion, where he and Bishop shared a mutually unspoken challenge for practice and patrolling times. It was quickly settled after dozens of protests by their respective team-mates, and finally a futile impasse of blade and gun-barrel, much to their later embarrassment.

It was now custom for Shatterstar to spend a little time after his training session to speak with the time-displaced X-Man. They would sit over a blender-full of soy protein-fruit supplement and compare notes on security issues and possible improvements. If either felt somewhat nostalgic, they might even reminisce on how different their native worlds were to the 20th Century. Then it would be Bishop's turn at the Danger Room, before joining the rest of the X-Men for the aforementioned team workout.

Shatterstar then checked the time of night, and cursed silently. If he didn't start his programmed war sequence soon, he would have to finish later than usual. Then he wouldn't have enough time to explain to Bishop his plans for a topography hologram, which would facilitate motion-recording within the mansion's grounds.

He'd have to wait until noon before Bishop would be free for conversation. If he were not able to avoid Boomer and Jubilee that morning, he might be forced into indefinite exile to that great gulag of a shopping mall. He cringed. There was always the threat of mutant activity, too. Conversation with Bishop would be a moot point.

He hated changing his routine without very good reason.


Eyeing the keyboard controls near the display monitor, he walked over and adjusted to manual command. Soon his fingers began to fly over the keys, and just as quickly, lines of encrypted commands streamed across the screen. Shatterstar's eyes missed nothing, but he blinked on several occasions.

The Danger Room interface was already a non-trivial system to work with. Somehow someone had seized control. Not only was he successful in overriding the scheduling system, but had also adjusted the controls temporarily, so that any subsequent override was forbidden.

"He walks in and demands to use the facilities his way," Shatterstar remarked aloud. Rather arrogant, but he had been accused of the same, before. He had to give due credit to the hacker -- such things were hardly easy efforts.

It occurred to him that this wasn't one of the Institute's population of mutants; instead, there may be a dangerous infiltrator in their midst. Though their missions required them to be adept at handling computers, few of his team-mates had that level of skill, nor did many of the X-Men. Had it been one of the known users, he would surely have recognized the hacker style. The mansion identicator refused to offer an ID match; the intruder must have taken care of that, too.

But why the Danger Room? Despite the high-level of Shiar-based technology embedded within, it was all largely practical in the sense of simulations. The X-Men hardly used robotic-based opponents anymore, and the virtual reality constructors were very inefficient towards use in battle. He knew because his team had tried it once, during an MLF assault on the mansion; they were unsuccessful and to maintain the battle, they had to regroup quickly from those vested efforts.

Sending off several peripheral tasks, he checked the status of the other Mansion residents, and in seconds the report followed: no objective indication of compromised resident ability, physical injury, or even psionic control. A sweep of the systems left the network unhacked and running regularly. The part of him that was sensitive to magic gave none of those cryptic warnings that formed his Arena Warrior instinct.

There seemed to be no foul play at all.

That normal, human-like part of him would have decided that this was his own paranoia at work, perhaps from an overwhelming need to train and an induced rationale. He could withdraw instead: wait until morning to begin his training .. maybe with the X-Men themselves, as Cable had not scheduled a team session for the next day. He did mean to practice maneuvers with Bishop and Logan, and maybe study more the habits and strategies of the man called Gambit.

They would be happy to include him in their camaraderie, as they seemed to trust his intentions. He simply needed to be patient and choose to work on other things, such as spending the time in the machine lab. They were progressing along an experimental upgrade for Cerebro, including AI-components, after all, and much work was pending.

That train of thought lasted all but a few seconds, as he finally cracked into the protected override constructs. A few more key-strokes .. and he need only click the "Confirm" button on the final message box to gain entry to the Room. After that, he could confront the potential intruder, and even challenge him to battle.


His hand, however, was no longer resting on the touch pad, nor were his eyes upon the the screen. Instead, he peered at the pair of eyes trained on his own form, especially to his hands, which were easily reaching for his swords.

Shatterstar recognized it instantly: the wings and head were unmistakable to him, and painfully reminiscent. He hadn't seen one of them since his days in the Mojoworld arena, and he still bore the scar along his left shoulder, where one beast had tore at him with its claws.

He bettered it, savagely taking its head to the exulting audience. For a while he adorned his costume with circular patterns of its fangs around his neck and arms. Mojo had been cowardly that day; he sent a cunning creature to best him, rather than risk more of his dwindling troops against him and his Cadre.

The forthcoming dragons were less trouble, once Shatterstar gained skill at slaying them. But the strength and fluidity of the reptiles were unrivaled, and even the high-technology of the Mojo battle-droids could not contend with the fearsome capacity of the fully-grown beasts. The crowds realized this, too; the ratings soon became a standard benchmark for pilot success. They were respectable opponents, and having some degree of intelligence and capacity for communication, the dragons would nod carefully at their soon-to-be-slayer before the carnage would began.

This one was still far from fully-grown, but could still give a good fight. It did not stand tall, but shifted this way and that. Shatterstar remembered that dragons were occasionally known for their subterfuge, when threatened without ample advantage. He spoke plainly.

"Dragon-beast," he cautioned to the glowing eyes, "I know not what force brought you to Earth, but know that I will slay you for any harm by your cause. This I swear to my last breath."

He was sizing up the crouching reptile as he wondered whether it had possibly lain a brood of eggs somewhere in the mansion. A catastrophe! How did he and Bishop miss such a thing, or anyone else, for the matter?

The beast snarled a small gust of flame and soot, as it tensed to strike. Shatterstar did the same, considering all manners of counters .. and then it happened.


The dragon did not attack. It suddenly sprawled back and above, as Shatterstar hastily executed a charge and missed. It flew and rested near the display console, and with a touch of its tail, it nudged the touch pad before flapping hastily through the now-open doors of the Danger Room.

"Clever creature," thought Shatterstar, as he followed in pursuit. By this time his blades were unsheathed, gleaming dangerously as he ran through the breach ..

.. and prompted sliced into a howling Hand ninja in the humid Tokyo night. A dozen more of his comrades sought vengeance and flew towards Shatterstar; a few deft strokes later, they joined the first ninja and sunk to the ground, never to rise again. Shatterstar then scanned the vicinity for the winged reptile.

These were wily creatures, able to change in size and demeanor. They were not to be trusted or tolerated to live. Soon it became very difficult to continue the search, as his attention was diverted. Throngs and waves of the Hand surged upon him; fosterlings of the Danger Room constructs, no doubt.

As much as he reveled in carnage and the challenge of the hunt, Shatterstar accepted the priority in the situation. He left his blade floating in the chest of a fallen ninja for a split-second and activated an electronic beacon to Bishop and the Mansion's systems. He was about to issue a command to the Room to stop its machinations, when suddenly another voice called out. No more of the suicidal Hand advanced upon him ..

.. only the bare metal ground, and the head of that elusive dragon, hidden behind a single human. Cowardly, wily creature!


The human in question was a brown-haired young woman, possibly younger than some of his own team-mates. She stood very still, with her arms crossed over her chest. Though largely incapable of human emotion, Shatterstar was adept at recognizing it in others.

He eyed the 'X' motif on her uniform. Was this a new recruit of Xavier's? Hardly an intruder, then. By any reckoning, this was a determined, possibly angry girl, undoubted a mutant or metahuman, if she chose the Danger Room for its activities. He would have to be careful. This was the talented hacker who had called forth the ninjas -- whether for training or for distraction, he couldn't be sure. Like him, she had power and will over this environment.

Had he been the dragon, he supposed that he too would have more likely attempted subterfuge towards such an enemy. Likely it would be an unexpected ambush after gaining her confidence and trust, as some gentle thing. Human affection could be disadvantageous, at times.

But Shatterstar was not at all a dragon, however avian his body structure. He preferred to explain himself to this .. stranger and extract the alien in a straight-forward way. This was not too unreasonable, and considering the wide berth given to her already, she could only but agree.

His eyes met hers. Her gaze hardened. He continued, regardless.

"Miss, I require you to relinquish the alien creature to me. It is a danger to the people of this place."

He sheathed one of his blades, and offered his outstretched hand to gesture his intent. Calling the computer, a cage materialized to his left. He had not expected the forthcoming reaction.

The young woman was shocked, and very clearly angry -- her cheeks were flushed. She stroked the creature protectively as she answered.

"I beg your pardon?"

He noted the forced calm in her tone, and was suddenly reminded of Jubilee before one of her notorious outbursts. Was he unclear as to what he meant to say?

"The creature, Miss. It is ..."

"... Mine," she finished. "Lockheed? What do you mean, 'dangerous?' And what are you doing here, anyway? I was in the middle of a training session, you know."

She waved her hand, and the cage disappeared.

Shatterstar blinked. His sense of hearing was far more acute than the typical human, and he could not have been mistaken. The girl could be somewhat delusional.

"Miss ..."

"My name is Kitty, or Shadowcat on the field."

"Katherine Pryde?" He recognized the name, faintly. "I have heard of you as Ariel or Sprite, from the Cerebro archives." The original X-Men began as adolescents, true, but he had thought it an anomaly early in the team's creation. Evidently he was wrong.

"Must have been an old file. Forge was never good at updating the records."

"Forge is now affiliated with X-Factor."

"Yes, I know. But you -- I don't know you, and you never answered my question."


She was trying his patience. First things first, he supposed, and wondered how that came to be an English expression. First things are meant to be first ..

"I am Shatterstar of X-Force, formerly the New Mutants ..."

Her eyes perked up, hearing the last words.

".. and firstly, the creature you would call 'Pet' is a known ravager of village and killer of sentients. Do not mistake the affectionate behavior of this species for good nature -- they are dangerous and treacherous beings, full of guile."

He was about to step closer, if not for the disbelief upon the former X-Man's expression. If he hadn't known better, she apparently too the news towards her 'pet' at a personal level. Curse you, dragon! In a moment of fury, he growled at the reptile as it scurried behind the girl, now completely hidden from his line of sight. She only became more outraged.

This was not going well at all.

"I think I would know enough about my companions to trust them not to deceive me," she emphasized. She then hugged the reptile behind her back, as if emphasizing that the beast was under her protection.


Peace and negotiation were not strong points in Shatterstar's character. Had they been in Mojoworld, he would be free to issue a warrior's challenge, and after gaining victory, he would be free to exercise his decision on the matter. But 20th Century humans conducted their actions far differently, and in such overly cumbersome methods!

Talk and reason were fine things, but agreement was a difficult position -- not easily wrought through by strong-minded people, but through mere words or gentle deliberations. Direct contentions would be futile maneuvers, and for the advocate strong in the belief of his cause, he must resort to subterfuge and lesser means to succeed.

The intricacy of debate frustrated Shatterstar; he was poor at these wordy feints and sleights-of-hand. When the rebellion succeeds and Mojo shall be overthrown, there would be need for eloquence in the haggling of new laws and public order. It would be a great problem for his people, even him. Despite his years-long exposure to human society, he was far from expert in these rhetorics.

He had to continue trying. Cable, his commander, would demand it of him, as they were guests in the mansion and would live by the rules of their hosts. Protocols. There are always protocols.


He sighed.

"I mean neither insult nor aspersion, Pryde," he began, "but you must accede the creature to me. I have vowed it mortal harm, should it dare cause us ill will or injury."

He smiled. Surely she also knows of the warrior's ways, and would recognize a solemn vow .. This could work.

She opened her mouth, sputtered a few syllables, then shut it without a word. Did I just hear him right? she thought to herself, still feeling the folds of the reptile's skin. Did he just threaten to kill Lockheed?

Perhaps it wouldn't work, after all.

"This is insane! Everyone here knows Lockheed! Even the Professor approved of him ... look, I don't know where you're from or what stories you've read, but trust me. This dragon wouldn't harm a fly."

"Dragons cannot be trusted."

"Neither can sword-wielding maniacs that barge into other people's training sessions, evidently."


That was a slight, if he ever heard one! He was a warrior of the Cadre Alliance! No one accused him of lies without facing consequence, by native custom. His blood surged, beckoning to spill hers. His hand grasped the free hilt of his second sword.

"You would accuse me of lying?"

It was Kitty's turn to take a deep breath, albeit a bit cautiously, as she didn't want to cause alarm to the other mutant. She could recognize a warrior's stance; in a childhood spent with Logan and the other X-Men, it was survival training.

She looked at him carefully, and suddenly, without reason, he reminded her of Longshot. Kitty then wished that he had some of that man's charm and empathy in him, right then, rather than what seemed a burning rage. I was only defending my friend -- you'd think he would understand loyalty. She had a mind to summon restraints on the man, but it would be pointless. He would simply remove them.

But Longshot was also quick to anger; she could remember quite a few heated arguments between him and Alison. He often valued something about honor, much like Logan would, but an alien one .. and then she gasped at a sudden small, but needful realization.

She was attacking him. Perhaps it was not by sword to throat or energy blast to body center, but something more dear to him. .. Should it dare cause us ill will or injury, her photographic memory recalled.


Kitty eyed the crouching swordsman. She stood tall and straight, spreading her arms away from her body, and allowing her body open to attack -- a gesture of peace. Shatterstar recalled a kempo flowing technique of some similarity, but decided to stay his hand. He could always attack if necessary.

"I'm not accusing anyone of anything," she emphasized. "Shatterstar, this dragon is Lockheed, and he's been my constant companion, almost as long as I've been an X-Man. I was just a kid when we first met, and if he wouldn't hurt a child then, he won't attack a well-coordinated team of mutants today."

She offered warm eyes to the emerging dragon, then to the young man.

"Lockheed is my friend, and we've taken good care of each other. Will you trust me about him?"

Lockheed then looked up and stared levelly at Shatterstar, but nothing more lay in its glowing eyes.


He had to admit that the girl had conviction, and from his own experience, he recalled the habits of dragons. For their cunning, they were terribly impatient creatures, and incapable of long-term planning. She would have died years ago, had the dragon truly wished her death.

Perhaps she had tamed it, in its youth? It was not impossible, he admitted. Slowly he released his anger figuratively into his surroundings. That meditation lesson, once given by the X-Men leader Storm and his attendance enforced by Cable, had not been in vain after all.

He sheathed his swords and relaxed, or as much as a warrior could relax without compromising his guard.

"Forgive me if I have been too insistent in my warnings, and my demands. My experience with dragons has not been as kind as your, it seems."

He paused for a moment, as if confirm his course of action.

"I will accede to your wishes, and trust this creature ... for now."

Kitty nodded, as a tense moment passed in tangled silence between X-Man, X-Forcer, and dragon. But as quiet moments go in the mansion, it was short-lived.


Sudden alarms caught their attention to the doors, once more. They slid open, pouring forth Scott Summers in boxers with little red hearts, barking orders around a half-dressed team of mutants on the ready. Bishop's gun-sights pointed true, as did a Cable with "bed-head." A glowing Ororo Munroe hovered ready in mid-air.

Shatterstar had already surged to the offensive with open blades, as Lockheed readied to pounce. In the corner of his eye he saw Kitty Pryde in a ready stance, having summoned a blade from the Danger Room generators. The sight, as slim as it was, pleased him to no end, for some reason.

His momentum, however, did not, as it was sending him towards an equally accelerating and battle-ready Logan.

The sudden entry had not been a good idea.

The mid-air impact neared .. but never came. He blinked, as did Logan. It was then that each of them noticed that the other took on an abnormal shade of pink ..

Shatterstar turned to see Cable lower him to the ground in a telekinetic bubble, as Jean Grey did the same with his would-be opponent. By then everyone had powered down and collected themselves, with the element of surprise dwindling to nought. Kitty Pryde had dispelled her blade, and Bishop and Cable holstered his firearm.

"Katherine ... and Shatterstar," called Professor Xavier, as his hover-chair floated to the center of the crowd, "Would you care to explain what transpired here?"


The older man looked inquiringly at the young warrior, and next, to his former student. A momentary thought occurred to Kitty as she looked from the Professor to Cable .. that the Professor never had to worry about "bed-head." A few of the resident telepaths burst out in laughter, as did the Professor. The others looked nonplussed, and Cable managed a reddened half-smile before turning to his own charge.

"Shatterstar: a report, now."

Shatterstar was already poised in military posture -- how he switched stances so quickly amazed even the battle-hardened Domino. Bishop nodded, and wondered how far the young man would have gone in the X.S.E. Then again, he does have quite a few rash tendencies ..

"Sir: a misunderstanding occurred, nothing more. I may have over-acted towards a mistaken belligerent."

Cable raised his eyebrow as the alien warrior tilted his head to the side, to Kitty Pryde. Lockheed was draped along her shoulders, having drifted to a nap when the excitement passed. She shrugged lightly.

"Just a misunderstanding, guys."

Some of the collected mutants exchanged wary looks; others shared bemused expressions. One voice, however, caught everyone's attention.

"C'mon people -- no blood, no foul," yawned Jubilee. "Hey Pryde, how are ya?"

Kitty grinned. "Jet lag with a vengeance, Jubes, but otherwise I'm good. You?"

"Been better, been worse."

The teenage X-Man looked to her older team-mates, and continued.

"All right, I've seen enough. Gonna hit the hay now, 'kay guys? Nice to see ya again, Pryde."

Kitty grinned again towards the already-departing teen.

"'Night, Jubes."

What appeared to be a hand shot up in the distance, and waved back casually. It flew down and moved into the corridor and into the wing of bedrooms, along with its owner. Then Kitty gave a level look at the remaining mutants, who suddenly realized how truly tired they were. It wasn't easy being a mutant, these days.


"I suppose questions can wait until morning," Cable said, absently smoothing out his "bed-head" with his gun-free hand. He smiled at Domino. Shatterstar made a note of it, but said nothing; he may consider himself brave in battle, but hardly suicidal.

"Agreed, Nathan. I trust that everything is well for the moment," added Xavier, as he fiddled with reversing his hover-chair.

"All right, then, people," announced Cyclops, "We might as well get some rest before tomorrow's session, which is in .."

He peered at his blue-tinted wristwatch, which unnerved Kitty. Only "Boss-Man" would wear a watch to sleep, she sighed.

"Three hours or so," he finished.

A chorus of groans followed the retreating band of mutants. A moment later the Danger Room was empty, except for the earlier three inhabitants.


Kitty looked at Lockheed.

"I suppose I should put him to bed. It is a bit late over here, after all."

Shatterstar nodded. "I should run through a training sequence before Bishop demands his turn, yet."

She gave him a lop-sided grin, and realized something.

"It was your time-slot, wasn't it?"

He nodded.

"I'm really sorry. If I'd known you were waiting ..."

"It is of little consequence. I've been told I could do with more patience."

She gave a reassuring smile, and then looked thoughtful for a moment.

"You know, the last time I saw a 3 am workout on the master schedule, it had been Rogue who'd misread the am part ..." She stopped, as Shatterstar wasn't laughing, but rather impassive.

"Julio makes that mistake, on occasion. He doesn't wish to train with me, however."

"Rictor? I haven't seen him or the old gang in ages. Still with the long hair?"

"Yes."

The lop-sided grin returned, and she patted a sleepy Lockheed on the back.

"Well, the Danger Room is yours, Shatterstar. I'm sorry I was a bother."

"Do not be. I have my own mistakes to admit, on the matter."

She shrugged, which caused the slumbering dragon to grumble. Let sleeping dragons lie, she murmured to herself. Turning gently, she headed for the doors.


Shatterstar watched her: a young woman and an X-Man, a hacker and an occasional incendiary, a compassionate operative and friend to many, she seemed. He wondered how they would fare in combat together, and dismissed the idea.

He re-drew his swords with practiced caution, as he cleared his mind for the oncoming exercise. But a thought occurred to him, and he called to her.

"Pryde?"

She stopped and turned her head slowly, as not to disturb her resting companion.

"How did you manage to gain access to the Danger Room controls?"

She smiled.

"I wrote the interface programs, and kept a spare password in case I came back and wanted a work-out. Nice hacking job, by the way."

He nodded, and she sauntered out, the doors sliding behind her. It had been an interesting night, so far.

"Computer! Begin sequence gamma-three-nine-zeta. High-intensity Level Eighty-Seven, authorization: Gaveedra G7."

Several Sentinels appeared amidst the ruins of a 25st Century city, and advanced towards the smaller figure. Shatterstar would have his battle at last. He gave a rare grin and dove an energy blast, then rushed to meet the enormous androids.

The familiar sounds of battle soon echoed along the Danger Room walls and through the night.

-- -- fin -- --