Chapter 2 is up. Did some sloppy editing, wasn't entirely happy 'bout it. So far I got a grand total of 1 review. Too much to ask apparently. Well, I expected that. The story doesn't get juicy 'til 'bout the 3rd chapter. I just wanna establish everything first, since this is an AU fic. Well, I'm plowing on anyway. I promised myself, I'd finish this come hell or high water. So here's the 2nd chapter. Can I possibly, just possibly expect a review? Pls? well, anyways, enjoy the next installment. Hopefully the 3rd chap wont be far behind.

Disclaimer; any recognizable character are definitely not a product of mine. They belong to the geniuses upstairs. So no money making enterprise here, you sharks! Just 'lil ol' me enjoying meself.

Chapter 2; The Sorority

The thick, automatic double doors of the infamous tapcafe Sorority opened wide to admit more of its equally infamous patrons. The entrance of five big and brawny Iridian Humanoid males didn't go unnoticed and solicited a loud welcome from the more drunken clienteles. The entrance of a slightly smaller figure behind them was unnoticed however, as it was supposed to. The double doors closed with a whoosh behind the party.

The figure, dressed in a dark shirt, navy blue pants tucked into well used dark boots, tan flight jacket and a very unusual head headgear, stepped sideways into the shadows again as the doors behind him opened yet again to admit more unsavory patrons. He surveyed the scene before him with an experienced eye.

The tapcafe of all the scums of the known galaxy. He could see outlaws, smugglers, gamblers, assassins, generally the dirt of the galaxy in all shapes and sizes and of varying of reputation all in one roof. The room itself was very wide, on the left there were the gambling tables but the majority on the right were scattered tables, everyone of which were occupied with different species of varying degrees of drunkenness. The entire back wall of the room itself was occupied with a very long bar, packed with customers buying drinks or simply customers trying to decide which bartendress to take back to their hidey holes. The one reason everyone agrees that the Sorority is special from all the tapcafes scattered throughout the known galaxy; the scantily clad females who works as serving girls or sweeteners to deals forever circulating the noisy room. Hardly anyone hires them anymore, serving droids were used instead since they were less expensive to maintain. The light itself was turned low and rather gaudy, ranging from red to light blue neon, thus creating shadows all over the room.

The figure took all this in in less than a minute and confidently strode forward, easily avoiding an obviously dead drunk spiked faced Mahanda. He headed to one of the more private booth on the right back corner. The table was occupied with only one other. Dr. Hank McCoy. The one man, who had saved his unworthy hide more times than he can count, a man who came from a race whose intelligence range from 1 to none, a man who was a freak of nature because 1+1 actually had meaning to him, as well as Advanced Physics.

" Busy night, bub?" He drawled lazily.

" Logan!" the doc's face visibly lightened with relief." As a matter of fact yes, it is a busy night. I can even see Broham the bounty hunter over there." He replied. "Sit my friend." He motioned for the chair in front of him.

" Don't hang 'round here much then. I'd thought this ought to be his scene," As he settled down in front of the doc. " being the place where all the scum of the galaxy pile up and all."

" Well it is the only place in the whole known galaxy where 'scums' like us are safe from raidings by the relentless Space Forces and Intelligence. There are rumors going around the Outer Leagues* that the owner of this tapcafe is a very high ranking official in the Space Intelligence Unit. Of course it hasn't been proven, just one of those possible answers to one of the mysteries floating around the Serengeti asteroid belt." He replied somewhat dryly. " How have you been my friend? It's been, what? Six months since we last saw each other?" he said more warmly, changing the subject.

" Six months" he confirmed. " What can I get for you, bub?" he motioned as he pressed a button from one of the panels on the corner of the table. He placed an order for a tall glass of undiluted Pernian Beer, forgoing the live service for a more private one, and waited for the doc's answer.

" Just a shot of Craniur brandy, please." He answered and waited for Logan to finish the order to the automatic server. He saw Logan take out a handful of untraceable credits, place it on the extended platform and watched the platform withdraw into the wall again.

" I've been better," Logan answered at last as he leaned indolently into his not-so-comfortable chair.

" Last I heard, you were being hunted for the example you left on Abeq 4." The doc said.

" He had that comin', doc. But as a matter of fact, I've been sortin' out some..personal matters in the last few months." Logan replied.

" I shouldn't have left the message for you on the rendezvous. I'm sorry if I interrupted your personal time. You must need more time to yourself." Hank said, immediately contrite.

Logan was quick to reassure him, whether he meant it or not cannot be detected on his impassive face or flat tone. " No, doc, this is exactly what I need, a distraction. You do have a distraction for me do you?"

The drinks arrived in a bigger extended platform from the wall. Now finally they could talk in private. As soon as they got their drinks, Hank pressed yet another button on the panel, this time an invisible privacy bubble, a low frequency force shield which allows everything in and out except sound. *

Logan sipped his beer appreciatively as he waited for an answer.

" In a way, yes." He answered as he swirled the brandy and tentatively took a sip. He needed all the courage he could get. " I need to collect what you owe me." He said quietly.

Logan stilled. This was unusual. The doc was the kind of person who gave all the time and rarely asks for anything back. This was why he would listen, and this was why he would do anything he asked. That and the fact that the doc had never, ever asked anything of him before. And Logan is the kind of man who always paid his dues.

" You see I also owe an old friend a big dept. A dept he came to collect just a week ago." He said warily

" Really? So what's this got to do with me?"

" Charles and I go way back at the beginning. When we had everything in common and our principles almost the same. He did something for me that I will never forget, even after all this years and eventually the unavoidable differences in opinions. He knows of my connection to you, and he wants me to talk to you about a proposal." He said quietly.

Logan looked directly into his eyes. " What kind of proposal?"

" A business one, my friend, do not worry. As the best Outlaw in the galaxy to a client. He wants you to take care of her daughter. This is a bodyguarding mission."

Logan stiffened, he lowered his headgear to cover his eyes. " You know what happened on my last bodyguarding mission, bub, it was a bloody mess." He murmured somewhat coolly.

" Yes, well, this one is critically serious. Charles gave me this datacard. It contains every bit of information he had gathered concerning this threat." Hank said extending the datacard. Vainly.

" We're talking about High Vice Foreign Minister Charles Xavier here ain't we? Boy you sure know how to pick 'em." Logan said suddenly.

Hank was surprised, but only for a second, then he smiled wryly. "I should have known better than to hide anything from you."

" Information keeps me alive, bub." He said finally looking up, he answered with a wry smile of his own.

Hank nodded thoughtfully, Logan was a man who doesn't tolerate questions and surprises, as his own past was riddled with them.

Logan continued. " That guy's a major big wig. His security's so thick, you can't stick a pin near their gate and not be known. 'Sides, guy's a telepath. Hear he's pretty powerful. What's he need an Outlaw for, no matter how good?" he then drank the rest of his drink.

Hank followed suit, he drained the glass before answering. "That datacard will tell you that the assassin he suspects is after his daughter, is Storm."

" Storm? Never heard of him." Logan said promptly.

" Where have you been hiding for the last six months, my friend? It's impossible to miss her presence. She's been all over the holonet for the last five months and the whole Lower Leagues have been buzzing because of her. She's practically a legend around here." Hank was astonished.

" Well I haven't had a chance to check the waters yet. I came straight here after checking out the rendezvous." Logan said thoughtfully. "Tell me why the everyone's underwears are in a bunch over this Storm person?"

" Well no one knows what she looks like, just that she is a female. And apparently she doesn't belong to any Assassin's Guild, to all reports, she is a rogue."

" That makes her way more dangerous." Logan interrupted.

" Exactly. Not only that, there's also the factor of her conquests. In the past five months she had taken the lives of 3 smuggling chiefs, 2 fellow assassins, an Assassin Guild leader, a Gambling Guild boss, 5 bounty hunters, Chief Ambassador of Guilliema Randock, a high ranking Upper League Senator, and Babuti's gang (outlaws :p) and destroyed the pirate ship Hook and all of its crew. She's wanted by both the Space Forces and the Guild leaders. But everyone knows she won't be captured that easily. Rumors circulating says that the Bounty Hunters Guild put up the bounty for the hotshots like Kraine and Broham over there. The latest estimate for her bounty, I hear, is 14 million credits."

Logan started. " Whoa! 14 dings?! She should jus' turn herself over and escape after she gets de' money." He was startled. Even he had 25 dings on his head and he'd been in the business for more years than he cared to remember.

Hank laughed at that. " Yes my friend, a year from now she'll surpass even the greatest Outlaw in the galaxy who just happens to be old on the job already."

Logan glowered. " Drop it."

Hank smiled. Logan couldn't resist challenges. Especially from an upstart who just appeared out of nowhere. " So... Logan," he said slowly. "Will you do it?"

Logan said nothing for a minute. He pulled his headgear closer to his face. He than took a relaxed position on his chair. Obviously considering. " Let me get this straight, you want me to talk to this big Upper and protect his daughter day and night from this reputedly very very dangerous assassin. And this daughter don't happen to be Miss Jennifer Greyfriar Xavier, AKA Jean Grey, the redhead, hell fire, spoiled actress/singer who just happens to have the same power papa has except in junior size but enough that when she throws tantrums she turns the whole studio upside-down and the same girl who just happens to have S.Summers the Fourth panting in her heels, would she?"

Hank winced. Every observation were very insightful and truth be told, had a grain of truth in it. " Logan.." He started. This was not going to be easy.

" How much does it pay?" he said abruptly.

Hank was flabbergasted. He didn't expect it to be as easy as this.

" Didn't think I'll do the only thing you've ever asked huh? Well bub, this guy's always paid his dues." Logan said, sitting up. " Want another shot of that?" he asked casually.

Hank nodded in auto-pilot. He was still in shock.

" So every detail's in the datacard huh? As usual?" he said after ordering.

Hank shook his head as if to clear it. " Yes everything's in there."

" Let's have a toast then. Doc, consider part of my dept repaid." Logan said as he turned off the privacy bubble. The impact of the noise was very sobering.

Hank was smiling by now. " Logan, thank you for doing this." he hang the rest of the sentence as his attention was wrenched to the scene in the bar.

A girl, little more than 16 standard years old, was seemingly surrounded by a whole pack of hunting Mohanda's. Spiked faced and almost humanoid, Mohanda hunting groups always traveled by five with one definite leader. Feared for their intimidating demeanor and very aggressive manners, Mohanda's take the most pleasure in knowing their prey are helpless and preferably would make up a fierce fight. And this little lady certainly was giving it all she's got. With her certain air of naivete and innocence she must have been a very tempting prey for the drunken Mohandas, added with her street tough exterior and fierce glare, the yellow-coated brunette was certainly ideal.

" Trouble in paradise, eh?" Logan said unnecessarily. Hank slid a look at him.

" You know it simply isn't allowed to cause fights in here. That pack must really be desperate for a fight. They know they won't be allowed anywhere near here in the future."

" Tell that to them. Don't think that matters to them now, they're dead drunk."

" I know."

The girl was now making her move. As was the pack. They were slowly surrounding her snickering as one by one they withdrew wicked looking hunting vibro-blade from hidden sleeve compartments. Hank and Logan stood up and moved closer just in time to hear the girl voice a threat.

"..not alone. When they finds out what your doing they're gonna kick your spiky asses to the nest galaxy over." She was holding her hands forward, fingers separated pointing at the pack. She spoke fiercely as if commanding herself to stay calm and not to let her fear come out of her.

" Good, this one sayz the more the merrier." Said the pack leader, indicated by the blue ring on his forearms. This was followed by another snicker from the rest of the pack as they prepared to attack.

By this time, Logan and Hank where already just within the inner audience ring and were had already decided to diffuse the tension if something wasn't done to stop the situation. So far the café's bouncers had yet to appear and judging by the audience relaxed if not curious reaction to the drama unfolding, they weren't to be expected anytime soon. Everyone was treating the whole situation as another entertainment in a notorious gang hell.

" This one iz ready to hunt this upstart Joma'h"

" Then go!"

One of the Mahanda lunged, the others let him get the first shot but even before he connected fatally, bright and colourful lights emerged from the girl's fingertips, which ultimately proved fatal for the close Mahanda. He went down as the light show blasted through he vulnerable spot in his neck.

" It appears as if our assistance may be unnecessary." Hank said, surprise evident in his voice.

" Don't you believe it, bub. She just made them more angry." Logan said preparing to jump in the fray when a voice stopped him.

A very angry and decidedly uncool voice. " Yo, man! Why doncha pick someone you're own size, you dumbasses! Lee, what on Cresuel's sake do you think your doin'?! I turn my back for a sec and you're in the middle of trouble! Why am I not surprised at all?!!"

The crowd made way as a short, hopping mad human male, delivered the lines as he walked, or rather hopped, forward. He was sporting a rather violently cut, purple hairstyle, he was wearing dark shirt, pants and long overcoat with heavy, dark combat boots. Short of jumping up and down, he settled instead with the most evil, obviously patented glare he could come up at such short notice, and considering he probably practiced a lot in front of a mirror, was actually effective even with is light blue eyes.

" Ahh, another one. Thiz iz the reinforcement, thiz one thinkz." The leader drawled. Then he snickered. Obviously now taking a good look at the newcomer. " A midget!"

That comment obviously just angered the newcomer more. "Midget?! I ain't no Midget you Spiky-boy! I'll show you midget. Bet you go down on the first punch too! Comon! Lets get it on!" then he turned to the girl. "You'll owe me for this, Lee. I'll have you cleanin' my boots for a week!"

"Hey! I didn't ask for you're help, Dakar! I can handle this!"

"Hrmmph! If I believe that, I'll believe I was a movie star!" he obviously disdainful. "Now be a good girly and step outta the way!"

" Thiz one iz getting impatient! You gonna fight this one or not!

" Hey! Spiky-boy! How's about we let the 'lil girl go and we settle this ourselves!" Dakar shouted.

The one holding on to the girls shoulder's tightened his grip, Lee visibly winced, whether because of being called 'lil girl' or the crushing grip on her shoulders, Logan can't decide.

The rest of the pack roared.

"Uh-oh. Bad idea." He then looked around warily. "Oh well." He then proceeded to get into a fighting stance.

The pack then took positions surrounding him. They drew their ceremonial hunting knives one by one, with obvious enjoyment. The crowd of interested onlookers stepped back a bit, including the Doc and Logan. There's still no sign of the tapcafe's security.

"We really should help." Doc said uncomfortably.

" Let's see how it turns out first."

" That little guy is brash and hot-tempered. I don't think his brashness equals his skills though. He'll be flattened in no time flat." Doc was still trying to convince him.

The first Mahanda jumped. What followed was utter chaos. The crowd began to cheer and Logan had the sneaking suspicion that there was betting going on in the background. Dakar was holding his own against five drunk and rowdy Mahandas. The Doc was wrong. This little guy's skilled and agile. He was also very fast. A punch here, a jab there, another punch, a kick all the time avoiding the deadly knives constantly swishing at his direction, then two of his opponents were down for the fight, the other three meanwhile looked tougher. The leader looked down, surprised at the sight of his fallen comrades. He growled.

Dakar cracked his fist. Now that Logan could see them properly, he noticed that Dakar was sporting on both his fists, heavy metal gloves with pointed, wicked looking metal, spikes. Clearly an advantage. Logan also noticed meanwhile that he was breathing faster and harder than his opponents. Clearly he was tiring fast. Logan doubted he could finish the fight in one piece.

Lee sat up off the floor where she was tossed aside a minute ago. "Dakar, be careful. These guys are stronger than they look."

" Shutit, Lee. This is all your fault. You know I'll have to tell 'Ro know do you?"

"As I said, I didn't need your help!!!"

"Ya think?! Looks like we gotta cut the chatter short. I have a pack to skillet."

This time it was obvious Dakar was tiring fast, he was hit in the face, and landed roughly amongst the stools in the bar. He managed to get up and charged at them again.

"You know, now I think we should help him now."

" Yes we should." Logan said, preparing to jump in the fray.

He took a step forward. He stopped as he felt something sharp whiz by his ear. He looked on fascinated as the said a blade imbedded itself at the back of one Mahanda. He froze. The blade fully penetrated the tough body armor the guy wore. Logan was surprised, but not as surprised as when he saw the blade extend, through the vital innards and out through the chest. Everyone looked befuddled. The remaining two looked around angrily. Logan again felt something fast brush past him again. And then began the slaughter.

A dark robed figure jumped in the middle of the fight and proceeded to annihilate the remaining Mahandas one by one. He systematically brought them down with agile movements, fast reflexes and pinpoint accuracy with the knife. Everything happened so fast that just after the minute the fight was over. The figure stood in the middle of the crowd amidst the littered bodies of the pack (only the two, which was knocked unconscious earlier, on survived). Dakar and Lee meanwhile were picking themselves up off the floor, dusting their clothes. The guy turned abruptly to the crowd, as if challenging them for questioning what he'd just done. The crowd turned away immediately, apparently engrossed in what they were doing before the fight, and just as apparently not looking for any trouble.

"Well, that was interesting." Hank remarked. He had got over his surprise and was trying to see who was behind the hood. He noticed that even all throughout the fight, he kept his hood on. No, not a he, a she. Now this was more interesting.

" She was fast. She looks like a pro." Logan said.

" How did you..no, never mind."

"She was too graceful, too flexible, her movements are light and besides you don't think I noticed her curvy chest? Plus those legs are too curvy to be a man's."

" Trust you to notice a female's attribute."

" Thanks."

Money was still going around at this time and Logan could hear the whistle of the café's security not far from where they were. He glanced back at the scene and saw the robed figure talking quietly to the two youngsters. He could see a flash of a slender wrist and long slender fingers encased in black, silky gloves.

Suddenly she turned. He was caught off guard. Logan could feel her intense blue eyes boring into his own black ones. They were blue, the color of the sky when no cloud was grazing its surface. But they were intense, for a moment there he thought he saw fire and passion in her eyes as well as fear and confusion. Time stopped, his heart speeded up, his breathing caught in his chest, he simply stopped breathing. But then it was gone, her expressive eyes emptied, turned hard then cold, giving her eyes an uncanny similarity to an ice sheet. She turned away quickly to address the big humanoid obviously connected to the café security who had made his way to her. Logan began breathing again.

"Hmmmmm." Hank said quietly. He obviously hadn't seen his friend gawking. Which made Logan glad.

" What?"

" I think I know who she is."

" You do?"

" Yes, I'm almost positive it's her. Her grace, her skill, her preternatural speed and those tell-tale knives. Those are practically legend around here. And I'm also sure that some people here have reached the same conclusion." As he said it, a commotion was taking place just to his right.

" Who?"

" I believe it's her, Storm herself. Although the significance of her supposedly traveling with two young ones elude me. What do you think?" Hank asked as he turned towards him.

Logan followed the group being led by security to a door with his eyes.

Those hands.

Those eyes.

Especially those eyes.

Storm.

He could well believe it.

Afterword: as well as being a fan of x-men, I'm also very into jap anime and manga plus star wars (well, maybe not the last two movies. But I do love the extended universe and the classic trilogy. My fave character of all time lives in that extended universe, Mara Jade, an ex-assassin turned smuggler turned jedi. Fans may recognize her as master skywalker's wife.) a lot of stuff here that I wrote, I gotta acknowledge the influence of Star wars (bobba fett anyone?) and of course the mother of all space cowboy genre in anime, Cowboy Bebop and Outlaw Star (gotta watch them, they're fantastic. Even the all powerful whedon stole ideas from them. Remember Firefly? The girl in a suitcase?) anyway, this is an acknowledgement, for the influences behind the story. I wanted to put two of the best fictional character's I met (RO/LO. Been a fan since I was 9) in a setting that I think would be good for them (no playing second fiddle to jean, I've always hated that. Ororo needs much more. Thank god for X-treme. Singer needs to be sued.) . if you don't think it's good for them, then stop reading, right now. Anyways, this is turning into such a lively rant so I'll just shut myself up. Anyway, back to the topic. This fic is for the goddess ororo, who always seem to be there only for decoration, which is unfair, and to the somewhat dimwitted (to me he is! Ok, just a teensy bit, for hankering after oh so good miss jean grey. Did I mention I dislike (understatement- her?) and to the space genre (I dislike(another understatement-trek) especially Star wars, Outlaw Star, Cowboy Bebop and in some ways, Gundam Wing too.