Chapter 15
The Professor told us that he had reached Moira MacTaggert. I braced myself for more bad news. I mean, I think I only met Moira once, but it seemed that every time we learned the whereabouts of someone back on earth, there was never anything good to report.
"She is alive," the Professor began. "Her husband Banshee and son Proteus were killed by FOH while imprisoned in one of their Containment Centers. Her step-daughter Siryn is imprisoned and, as far as Moira knows, still alive."
He didn't need to elaborate on her mental state. We could only imagine what she must be going through at this point. The Professor continued, "She understands that we are now returning to earth."
The next day, the Professor told us that he was able to mentally "hook up" with Warren and have an exchange, despite the fact that Angel has no telepathic abilities. "I told him that we're coming," the Professor said. "He is elated that we're still alive. He also told me that Nightcrawler is imprisoned in the camp with him."
"What the heck was Kurt doing in England?" Rogue asked.
"Warren does not know," the Professor said. "They are forbidden to speak to each other and the guards monitor them at all times. Warren told me that, as far as he knows, Kurt, Betsy and he are the only X-men in the camp."
As we got closer and closer to earth, our plans for liberating the camp began to take shape.
Rogue was finishing up her early-afternoon training round, when the Professor and Storm both approached her. "Rogue," Storm began, a gentle smile on her face, "may we have a word with you?"
"Sure." Rogue asked. "What's on your minds?" she asked. The Professor easily detected that her mood was high, as her session in the Danger Room that day had been a resounding success. The three made their way to the bleachers on the sidelines of the gym. Storm and Rogue sat next to each other, the Professor facing them in his hover chair.
"We wish to ask something of you," the Professor said. "As you know, our goal is to rescue the mutants who are imprisoned along with Angel and Psylocke, and to offer them asylum here."
Rogue nodded. The Professor looked at Storm. Storm spoke, "We expect that the mutants we rescue will be traumatized. Some of them will probably want someone to listen to them, someone to provide some comfort." Rogue got a sinking feeling in her stomach. She knew where this was heading. Storm continued, "The Professor has experience working with torture victims and he's, of course, willing to work with anyone who wants to. And I am certainly willing to do what I can as well and listen to as many people as possible. But we wanted to ask you to consider also helping with this."
Rogue frowned and looked down. In the background, she noticed Wolverine and Colossus begin a Danger Room program. The Professor then spoke, "We do not know how many mutants are in this….containment center or how many will actually want to come with us. It might be anywhere from a small handful to several hundred. And we do not know how many will want someone to talk to."
"We do know," Storm said, "that rape is widespread at these camps." As Storm said the word, Rogue realized how much she detested that word. Rape. It was far, far worse that any other four letter word her parents had instructed her never to say. It made her skin crawl. She wished she could erase the word from the English language, wish it described something that no civilized society would allow to exist. `No, change that,' Rogue thought. `It already * is* something that no civilized society would allow to exist.'
Storm continued on, "We must assume that the female mutants are going to be especially traumatized, and many of them will only feel comfortable talking with another woman. Or at least that many of them would strongly prefer to discuss this with another woman." Storm paused. "I know that you do not enjoy…listening to other people talk about this sort of thing. But," she forced a smile, "you and I are the only women on board this ship. Would you consider offering a listening ear, if there are mutants who want that?"
"Too bad Jean ain't here," Rogue said. "She's good at that shit."
"I know," Storm said, looking at Rogue.
"And I hated when Marie from Alpha Flight was on board and she made us listen to her talk 'bout what she went through over an' over."
"I know," Storm repeated.
"But I s'ppose this is like how most women will only go to a female gynecologist and not a male one." She snuck a quick look at the Professor. He caught her eye and they both smiled.
"As I said," the Professor began, "I am more than willing to work with anyone who wants to. I think my experience working with torture victims will be useful. However, I certainly understand that many victims of rape are likely to only want to talk it over with another woman."
Rogue sighed. "Well, what can I say? I guess I gotta say yes."
"I will provide my counseling services," Storm said, "to as many survivors as possible. But potentially there will be hundreds and…."
"Hundreds," Rogue muttered. "Great. I gotta sit and listen to hundreds of rape stories when I went through the same thing myself not too long ago. I want combat pay for this, 'hear?"
Storm smiled. "Perhaps we could come up with some sort of remuneration for this. Maybe we could allow you to replicate a few non-regulation items for yourself."
The Professor smiled. He knew, of course, about some of the interesting articles of clothing that Rogue had "secretly" been producing for herself (and Gambit.)
"Nah, I was kiddin' `bout wanting combat pay for that," Rogue said, glumly. "If it's needed, I'll do it. Though I got a headache, now, just thinkin' about it. But sure, sign me up. Counselor Rogue." She frowned.
Storm smiled. "We knew would could count on you. You're always willing to help your fellow mutant."
"Yeah, yeah," she said. Her mood from her successful training session had now been brought far down.
"What's wrong, chere?" Gambit asked, as he and Rogue took their places in the engine room later that day for a simulated battle. He put his arm around her and looked at her in that endearing way.
Despite her foul mood, Rogue couldn't help but to smile. Gambit's concern for her sincerely touched her, and the look in his eyes had an effect on her too. "Let's talk 'bout it later, Swamp Rat, ok?" Iceman and Beast were on the bridge and about to begin their simulated battle.
"Whatever you say," Gambit said, reaching for one of her hands and giving it a quick kiss. He turned his attention to his workstation as Beast informed them, via the intercom, that their exercise would begin in 20 seconds.
As with most days now, Rogue and Gambit didn't get any quiet time together until after dinner. Their entire days now were taken up with training activities. Rogue and Remy continued their tradition of sitting on the bridge together in the evenings, to enjoy each other's company alone. The rest of the group was in the rec room that evening, talking and playing cards when Gambit and Rogue finally retired to the bridge, together.
"Dat Drake put together a damn good salad," Gambit said. He and Rogue sat in the Captain's chair, she curled up on his lap.
"Yeah, those veggies that he grows are way better than the replicated stuff."
"If we are settling on An'zhina, we gotta ask Queen Marina 'bout farmland. Or at leas' about real food and not dat replicated stuff."
Rogue nodded. Gambit reached a hand to stroke her hair. "So you wanna tell Gambit what's botherin' you, chere?"
"Oh, Remy. It's somethin' that Storm and the Professor asked me to do today." She went on to relay the conversation that had taken place earlier that day. Rogue sighed. "I know I gotta do it. It makes sense. But I fuckin' hate listening to other people's sob stories, and especially when it comes to somethin like this."
"My poor chere," Gambit murmured, placing his arms around her. "But you one strong woman, chere. You stronger than almos' anyone Gambit knows. You can do it."
"I know I can do it. I just ain't gonna like one bit!"
"I know. Maybe you need to t'ink of it like some bitter pill you gotta swallow. It won't be fun but it all for de best. You such a kind, generous woman do agree to helpin' with this. Gambit love dat about you, chere."
Rogue smiled. Gambit talked a bit more, trying to get her mind off it. She resigned herself to his analogy of a bitter pill.
"Ugly demon! You're disgusting!" The FOH soldier laughed as he picked up and threw a rock at Nightcrawler. Nightcrawler was working with another prisoner on repairing a fence.
The three soldiers laughed as the rock hit Kurt squarely in the back. The X-man paused for a second, and then resumed his work, attempting to block out the pain.
"Hey, turn around, freak!" the soldier yelled at Nightcrawler. Kurt reluctantly turned to face his tormentor, knowing he had no choice.
"Apologize!" the soldier commanded. "I want you to apologize for being an ugly freak. And kneel when I'm speaking to you, pathetic dirty mutant!"
Kurt wordlessly sank to his knees. Other prisoners had been severely beaten and even killed for not carrying out the orders of the soldiers. "I'm sorry, Sir," he said quietly.
A second soldier standing nearby scoffed, "Oooh, look at the scary and powerful X-Man."
"Now, go back to work, you lazy piece of shit!" the first soldier commanded Nightcrawler. Kurt rose to his feet and resumed his work on the fence.
"What the fuck!" the first soldier said to his colleagues, exasperated. "Why are we letting the stupid freaks live? Like that blue weirdo. He should be exterminated. No one should have to * look* at that mistake of nature. What are those, hooves instead of hands? Is that gross or what?"
"You heard what General Thompson said," the second soldier said to his friend. "We gotta be careful with how many muties we kill. Public opinion isn't with us yet on that one."
"Well, it sucks. We're using taxpayer money to buy food to keep these shits alive. They should all be dead."
"I heard that the camp they're opening in Asia next month is going to allow more executions."
"If I had it my way, we'd have the muties dig a big grave and then we'd throw `em all in it."
"Except for the girls!"
"Oh, yeah except for the sluts. I say we keep `em till they go crazy on us, and then exterminate them too."
"We might have our wish. Remember what it said in our last newsletter? All we need to do is keep public opinion where it's at and win more people over to our side….pretty soon the public will condone more executions."
Kurt kept his eyes averted, trying to not hear their conversation, though they stood a few feet away from him. He was not as despairing as he normally was. The Professor had "spoken" to him a few days ago. He had only to hold on a little while longer…..
All of a sudden, Kurt felt a strong wind. He looked up, and was shocked to see a starship suddenly appear over the containment center. Off in the distance, he heard an alarm sound and soldiers run to their stations.
Kurt saw two of the three soldiers who had just been talking stop in their tracks and fall to the ground, coughing. He looked up again. The starship seemed to be releasing some sort of chemical into the air. Kurt felt dizzy and began a fit of coughing. He was unconscious in a matter of seconds.
As the Professor monitored us from the ship, we descended onto the containment center, our cloaking device easily allowing us to slip past FOH's defenses and penetrate earth's atmosphere. With the ship's main airlock open, we flew down onto the camp. Rogue used her ability to fly, and she used her super-strength to carry both Hank and Colossus. Storm also flew, carrying Wolverine. Quick as a wink, I created an icy pathway to help me descend from the ship, with Gambit clinging to my back. We felt a rush of cold air as we swooped down onto the camp.
We saw that the stun gas seemed to be working, and almost everyone in the camp-mutant and FOH soldier alike-lost consciousness. Our gas masks protected us.
A few soldiers appeared, wearing gas masks and carrying guns. But our training had prepared us well. Gambit threw a few explosive cards in their direction, I encased several of them in ice, and Storm used winds to sweep away the others. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one soldier prepare to fire at Hank. In a split second or two, Colossus- who was in his indestructible form- spotted the soldier and immobilized him.
/An FOH ship is approaching./ The Professor spoke into our minds. /I am going to begin transporting the mutants to our starship./
We executed our plan just as we'd run-through countless times. As the Professor beamed mutants aboard our vessel, we stormed through the camp to ensure that no one was being missed. Storm and Rogue flew, as I used ice to move around the camp faster than an Olympic skater. The rest of the team scouted around on foot.
I rushed through an empty barrack and then rounded a corner. I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight I encountered. I came upon Hank and Colossus facing off against two FOH soldiers. The soldiers wore gas masks and held a female mutant by the hair. One of them had a gun to the woman's head. "Surrender immediately, you two, or I kill her!"
Fortunately, the soldier faced away from me. In a split second, I shot out ice at the soldiers, encasing them. I couldn't avoid hitting the girl too, but at least she was saved. Hank gave the Professor the coordinates and told him to beam the mutant aboard. "Good timing, my friend," Hank said. "The soldiers appeared completely ready and willing to carry out their threat."
Even though it happened so quickly, I remembered one disturbing image from that encounter. The mutant had been wearing a flimsy white nightgown only. It was the middle of January and freezing cold. Snow and ice blanketed the bleak camp.
For the next few minutes (or however long it was….you kind of lose your sense of time in battle like this), we continued to scout out the camp. The Professor confirmed what our eyes told us. /I sense no more mutants in this area. I am beaming you back aboard the ship./
We were transported back to the ship. What happened from that point onward was a bit of a blur. I was the first to reach the bridge, with Wolverine close behind me. I took the helm, and he took the weaponry station. The Professor sat on the bridge with us. Our next mission was to beam Moira MacTaggert aboard.
I steered the ship towards Muir Island. "She's ready," the Professor said, apparently having been in telepathic contact with her.
"We've got an FOH ship on our tail," Wolverine said, looking at his monitor. "Evasive actions, Bobby!" he barked at me.
I took a deep breath and remembered my training. The fate of all the X-men and all the other mutants we'd just beamed on board depended on me keeping my cool. But I had done this countless times in training. As the FOH vessel pursued us, we came within transporting range. The Professor worked the controls.
"We have her!" the Professor said, excitedly. I think at that point he then telepathically communicated something to Moira.
"There's a second FOH ship on our tale!" Wolverine said, looking at his monitor. "Drake, get this ship the hell outta here! Move it, now!"
They opened fire on us just as we re-engaged the cloaking device. I steered the ship in an evasive pattern, as Wolverine returned fire.
We were hit. Storm and Rogue entered the bridge as I continued to control the helm, trying to elude the FOH. I thought I was doing a good job. But Wolverine snarled, "Storm, will you take the helm. Drake, step down!"
I know it was petty. But I was mighty pissed off. I knew what I was doing, and I felt confident. I'd trained along the other X-men dozens and dozens of times in the last few weeks. And, as I recalled, my simulated flying scores were not that far off from Storm's. Still, I did what Wolverine said. Storm took my place.
We engaged warp drive, but the FOH vessels followed us. With Wolverine at the weapons station, though, those FOH ships didn't stand a chance. He caused major damage to one of them, so much so that it turned back. The other pursued us for quite some time. We'd been hit enough times that we must have been leaking the ion trail that rendered our cloaking device ineffective. Our shields were down to 50%, but we managed to beat that vessel back as well.
So that was it. We successfully liberated our first "Mutant Containment Center" and we kicked two FOH ships's butts in combat.
The next several hours-in fact, the next several days-were a time of clean-up for us. It reminded me vaguely of when we freed ourselves from our FOH captors so long ago on board this very ship. For the longest time, we spent every waking moment getting things in order, rushing from one urgent duty to the next, trying to get things in some semblance of normalcy.
Two X-men were scheduled on bridge duty at all times. We had to ensure that we truly had evaded the FOH ships and wouldn't encounter any others. Even though we were cloaked, we feared that we might still be leaking an ion trail due to the damage we had sustained. Besides, we weren't that far from earth and we still did not know how many ships the FOH had in total now. It was possible that this area of space was littered with cloaked FOH ships, so we had to remain vigilant at all times.
Generally, when we weren't on bridge duty, we were helping out in the infirmary or otherwise assisting the 208 freed mutants. Hank literally spent all day and all night in sick bay. As our only doctor, he was exempted from bridge duty. (Well, he wasn't exactly our only doctor-Moira was a doctor too, but her days were spent providing counseling.) He later told me that he believed in the first 72 hours after we rescued the prisoners, he did not sleep at all. I believe it. As for me, on a good night I had time for maybe 5-6 hours of sleep. I spent the rest of my time on bridge duty, helping out in sick bay, or helping the rescued mutants get accumulated here. I knew it would be a very long trip back to An'zhina.
Our reunion with Nightcrawler was a very joyous moment. We all hugged him, thrilled that he was alive after we'd thought him dead for so long. He explained that he had managed to flee from the FOH on that awful night that they attacked and pillaged the mansion. He told us that he had, as Colossus had thought he'd seen, jumped from the rooftop of the mansion. An FOH soldier had snuck up behind him and placed a collar around his neck, so he could not use his power of teleportation. "By the grace of God, I was unharmed by the jump, except for a sprained ankle," Kurt told us in his thick German accent. "I somehow fled into the forest. The Friends of Humanity were so hell-bent on destroying the mansion and taking off in their ship with the rest of you, that they didn't notice me." Kurt went on to say that as soon as he was able, he went to England to meet up with Angel and Psylocke. Angel and Psylocke had been trying to rally mutants in Europe into joining with the X-men.
Angel and I were, of course, two of the original five X-men. We had never been the best of friends though. When I rejoined the X-men a year and a half ago, I can't say I was all that upset to learn that he was in England at the time. When we saw each other on board the ship, it was the first we'd seen each other for nearly nine years, I estimated. Physically he had aged quite a bit, and he was very slender. Our reunion was brief, though. He just shook my hand and muttered it was good to see me. His mind clearly was preoccupied with Psylocke.
Angel's preoccupation with Psylocke leads me to, I guess, describing the condition that the mutants we rescued were in. The male mutants were, overall, not in bad condition. Some had bruises and scrapes from mistreatment by the FOH soldiers, and they were all thin, but there was nothing majorly wrong with them. Kurt explained that the guards put them to work all day at building FOH monuments, creating structures and then tearing them down, shoveling snow, and all manner of manual labor. But they hadn't been worked to exhaustion. Several, however, had been killed in the camps for doing things like talking back to the guards or not carrying out orders soon enough. But for those who survived and who were on board our ship-to use an non-medical term, most of the male mutants were basically ok.
The female mutants were another story. This is the part where my hands start to shake on the keyboard and I begin to see red. For days and days, sick bay was filled with these girls and women who had survived countless gang rapes from FOH soldiers. I stood behind Hank late one night (or very early one morning) as he looked over the computer at a report describing the condition of the female prisoners. Syphilis, chlamydia, genital warts, crabs-you name the sexually transmitted disease, they had it. On top of that, the women were all bruised and beaten. A lot of them had ruptured internal organs. My stomach churned as I thought back to the condition Jubilee had been in when the FOH guards had thrown her into our cell. Try as I might, I'll never forget the scratches, bruises and burn marks that had covered her broken body. That's how these women were too, and most were far, far worse than Jubilee had been.
Mentally, they were even worse. Many were in that brainlocked condition Jubilee had been in. Some of them just cried and shook all day. Others seemed like they'd truly gone mad. One woman took to appearing in the halls, stark naked, screaming, "I am not a whore!"
I gotta say that I wish a painful death on these FOH soldiers. We were far, far too kind in merely knocking them out with stun gas. I don't know what else to say to express how outraged I am at these guys. What the fuck is wrong with them?
As far as I could tell, Storm and the Professor spent huge chunks of their day with these women in counseling sessions. Rogue helped out too, though one could clearly tell it was a chore she did not enjoy. And fortunately, Moira MacTaggert was glad to work with them too. I felt sorry for Moira. Not only had her husband and son been killed in the camps, but her step-daughter Siryn-who we had rescued with everyone else-was pretty much in the "zoned out" condition that Jubilee had been in.
But back to Warren and Betsy. Since I wasn't close to Warren, I didn't hear any of this first hand, but I guess he talked to some of the other X-men. Apparently he really feared for Betsy's mental condition. One minute, she would seem fine but the next she would be yelling and screaming. Or one day she would be completely quiet the entire day, the next day she would be chatting and laughing as if everything in the world was fantastic. Or the day after that, she would be miserable and cry all day long. She also apparently didn't have a good grasp on her surroundings or what exactly was going on.
I could tell my fellow X-men were really freaked out by that. They said that Betsy had had a strong mind, and seeing her out of it like this was disturbing
One more thing I should mention. We were all so busy in the days and weeks after our rescue, that we almost forgot about monitoring earth's news reports. However, we did catch a few. There was coverage of our rescue, and I don't suppose I need to mention that it portrayed the bad, evil X-men attacking the honorable and noble FOH soldiers and kidnapping these poor mutants in order to turn them into "anti-human, mutant soldiers." Every news report was sensationalistic and extremely negative, and all the public opinion polls showed that our name is mud. `Nuff said.
Charles Xavier and Moira MacTaggert sat around a tiny makeshift table in Charles's room one morning. They had taken to eating breakfast together at the start of every day. They took turns replicating the meal and then bringing it to the other's room. It was the only quiet time either of them had, as their days were jam-packed.
On board the ship, it was approximately 5am, but both Charles and Moira were dressed and ready to begin their day. Both had been up past midnight the night before. As every day, Moira was dressed completely in black.
"In four weeks, we will reach An'zhina," the Professor said.
"I look forward ta reaching this place, Charles," Moira replied.
"It's hard to believe that an entire week has passed since our rescue mission. The days have flown by."
"Perhaps the scenery on An'zhina will help to facilitate recovery for some of the mutants," Moira said.
"I think it might. However, I plan to soon begin using my powers to aid in the recovery of some of the more emotionally damaged people. I think several of the rescued prisoners are beyond the reaches of any traditional healing methods."
Moira nodded. "You hae a wonderful gift, Charles. I think you should use it to help these poor women. Siryn needs your help."
"She will be one of the first ones I assist," Charles said. "In fact, I think she might be ready today."
Moira nodded grimly. How she longed to be able to have a light and relaxing conversation with Charles. Instead, every morning they inevitably discussed issues like this. There simply wasn't time to focus on anything else. Maybe it was for the better. Since coming aboard the X-men's ship and working with the freed mutants, Moira was able to temporarily drive the pain over Sean and Kevin's deaths out of her head. At least now she had a purpose and a focus.
"Three of the male mutants I spoke to yesterday expressed a desire to return to earth," Moira said.
Charles nodded. "Several of the X-men have been telling me the same. You remember that we X-men are meeting tonight to discuss future plans."
"Oh, of course," Moira said. She had forgotten that Charles had already invited her to that meeting and she had planned on attending.
"We have many things to discuss and decide upon," Charles said. "FOH has at least 7 more Containment Centers. Many X-men think we should be liberating the mutants in those camps instead of returning these mutants to An'zhina."
"But this ship canna accommodate everyone. There are only 300 personnel quarters."
"There is much to decide," Charles repeated, his eyes far away.
Moira gazed with respect at the Professor. His face was more lined and haggard than she had remembered. She knew her face was as weary as his, too. Moira felt as if she'd aged 20 years in the last 2 and knew she must look it as well.
"I am so glad you are here, Charles," Moira said. "I thank God every day that you hae survived. I had been losing hope."
Charles reached across the table and held her hand. He gave it a tight squeeze. "I am also very grateful that you are here." He wanted to say more, but stopped himself. Such thoughts and feelings were not appropriate towards a woman who had so recently lost her husband.
Bobby was supervising a group of mutants as they played basketball in the gym. So much of the team's energies were focussed, understandably of course, on the rescued women as they had suffered so much. But the X-men also made sure that the rescued males received any counseling they needed, and they ensured that they would not become bored and restless on the ship. Two teams had been organized into a basketball game that morning, and Bobby was assigned to keep an eye on them and hang out in case they needed anything.
Bobby checked his watch. One hour, 25 minutes until he was scheduled for his bridge duty shift. He stifled a yawn. Sports didn't do much for him, and bridge duty likely wouldn't be too much fun either. He started when he heard a noise behind him. Almost silently, Wolverine had come up behind him.
"Hey," Wolverine said.
"Hi," Iceman returned the greeting. He smiled out of habit, though right then Wolverine was not exactly his favorite person.
"Nice game they got goin'."
`Okay, what does he want?" Bobby wondered. `Wolverine generally doesn't make small-talk.' Bobby's response to Wolverine's comment was to nod.
"Hey, Bobby," Logan began, "I jus' wanted to apologize to you for what happened on the bridge." There was no need to explain what incident was being referred to. "You were capable of handling it. You were doin' a good job. I'm used to workin' with Storm and…." He let his voice trail off.
Bobby was so floored that Logan actually apologized, he was speechless for a second. He nodded his head and said, "Thank you." He couldn't think of anything else to say.
"You've been doin' a good job with all your training," Wolverine went on. "You're doing great with karate. Keep it up."
"Thanks," Bobby repeated. He then added, "I'm glad you said this to me."
With that, the Canadian abruptly left. Bobby stood there, still shocked that Wolverine apologized. He idly wondered whether Storm or the Professor had put him up to it. Little did Bobby know, Logan had decided to do this on his own.
"Your assistance here has been invaluable, Panda," Beast said to Jessica Martin as they worked side by side in sick bay that afternoon. She had been assisting him since almost day-one
"I'm glad to help," she said simply.
"You seem to have a natural aptitude for this sort of work. Did you ever consider medical school?"
"In fact, I did, Beast. When I started college, my major was biology. I thought about becoming an MD or going into research. But you know, then they barred mutants from attending college, so I was kicked out." She laid out these facts simply, speaking without obvious anger or resentment. "I guess things were different in your day, huh?"
"Yes," Hank said, nodding. It was horrifying to realize how much ground had been lost.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked, noticing the far-way look in his eyes. It was not a look she frequently saw from Beast, given how focussed he had always been.
"I was reminiscing about the lack of discrimination against mutants, years ago. When I began medical school, and mind you this was approximately 16 years ago, forbidding mutants from attending college would have been unheard of. In fact, my teachers and fellow students treated me very well from college all the way through medical school. There were, of course, always a few who snickered or made comments behind my back. However, for the most part everyone was tolerant. The most egregious harassment had occurred in high school and prior to that."
"It looks like things for mutants have gotten far, far worse."
Hank nodded, grimly. "I am sorry to say that is the case." He looked intently at Panda. "Perhaps it was naivete on my part, but I had never thought that such a thing as a Mutant Containment Center would ever come to exist."
Panda nodded, her usually placid expression now difficult to read. Beast realized she'd been assisting him for several days now, and yet he did not know much about her. He barely got time to sleep for 4 hours a night, let alone socialize. But something about the look on her face concerned him.
"You seem remarkably well for someone who spent so much time in….a Containment Center," Beast said quietly.
Panda nodded. "Maybe I'm still in shock that I'm actually free now. I think I'm a little numb." She smiled and shrugged, "Maybe working here with you is a bit therapeutic for me. Makes me feel like I'm doing some good and somehow it takes my mind off the months I was in there."
"There might come a day when you do wish to discuss your feelings about the experience with someone. You know there are several people on board the ship who will listen to you." He paused, "I am not trained as a counselor, but I also would be glad to lend an ear."
Panda smiled warmly. She placed a furry hand on Hank's arm and said, "Thank you."
Hank returned the smile. Panda then abruptly changed the topic as she withdrew her hand. "So, Beast, what do your friends call you? Do they use the name Beast or do they call you Henry?"
"Hank, actually. Only my father called me Henry. Please, feel free to call me by my given name. What about you? I assume that `Panda' was not the appellation given to you by your parents."
"It's Jessica. Jessica Martin. You can call me by either name, though I do admit that I like having an alias."
The two continued to converse during any breaks they were able to take during their busy day. At one point, Hank told her, "This evening the X-men are having a meeting to discuss our future plans. We need to decide what our long-term mission is and what to do with the mutants on board this vessel. Our thought is that many more mutants than we had originally considered want to return to earth. How do you feel, Jessica?"
"I have no desire to go back. It's too awful there, Hank. Before the Containment Centers, people used to throw rocks at me as I walked down the street or grab their children and run from me like I'm some monster….The only unfinished business I have there is letting my parents know that I'm alright."
The X-men had been used to eating all their meals sitting at a round table in the infirmary. This arrangement no longer worked, of course, now that sick bay was jam-packed and there were 208 other inhabitants of the ship.
The FOH had a mess hall on board their ship. It was far away from the bridge, the rec room, the infirmary and all the other areas that had been the nucleus of activities for the X-men. But they had no choice but to use the large hall for dining now.
That evening, Gambit was assigned the exciting task of keeping an eye on the rescued mutants as they ate dinner. Other than having to break up a scuffle between two of the young men, dinner began in an uneventful manner. A few of the mutants spotted Gambit and began asking him questions about the X-men and requesting he tell stories about some of their adventures. Gambit was glad to indulge them and they listened wide-eyed. After having heard so much misinformation about the X-men, they were interested in hearing what the Cajun had to say. However, after a time they lost interest and returned to their meal.
Gambit looked up as the doors to the mess hall opened, and Rogue entered the large room. He smiled as she approached him. "Chere," he said, reaching for and kissing her hands.
"Hey, Sugar," Rogue said. She couldn't resist returning his smile, even though she had not been having the best day.
The couple made their way to an area off to the side of the mess hall where they were out of earshot of the others, though they could still see them.
"How you doing, chere?" Gambit asked.
Rogue only smiled and gave him a look. He knew how she felt, and he basically felt the same way. Rogue and Gambit wished they were liberating more mutant camps, instead of having to play guardian with all of these rescued mutants. "`Bout as well as can be expected," Rogue said. "Seeing you always make me feel better, though, Swamp Rat."
Gambit smiled again and his heart just filled as he looked into her eyes. She had the most beautiful smile, despite that she was missing the two teeth the FOH soldiers had torn from her. "Same for me, amor."
"I'm just really glad for Moira and Storm and the Professor," Rogue said. "Because of their help, there ain't as much need for Counselor Rogue as I had feared there'd be. Thank god."
"You still look stressed `dough."
Rogue sighed. "I guess things could always be worse," was all she said.
"Hey, Gambit got an idea! Let's go on a date."
Rogue scrunched her eyebrows together. "What?"
"A date, chere! Let's plan a date."
"Okay, Swamp Rat. Exactly where do you say we outta go? Should we take the last shuttle, go back to earth, hope no one notices that we're mutants so we can catch dinner and a show?'
"No, we can go on a date here. On dis ship. We could….get dressed up like we goin' somewhere fancy. We could have dinner in our room by candlelight. We could take a bath together by candelight."
"Mmmmmm…." Rogue mused. "Now you're talkin'! `Cept, you know we can't do it tonight. We got that meeting with the other X-men right after dinner."
"Well, how `bout tomorrow den?"
"That sounds good….I gotta see if I can sneak away to one of the replicators and make myself a nice evening gown before then."
"Or you could jus' wear one of dose numbers you replicated earlier," Gambit suggested, with a wicked gleam in his eyes. There was no need to clarify exactly what sort of outfit he was referring to.
"Hmmm….that could be even better. You always have such nice ideas, Cajun," Rogue said. She stepped towards him to give him a hug.
Months ago, when the low supply of dilithium had been a major concern, we closed down all the areas of the ship that were un-used. Now that we knew the location of that moon with endless supplies of the precious substance, and now that we had 200 other people on board the ship, the entire ship was in use. It put a strain on our dilithium to have the entire ship in operation, our cloaking device on and be traveling at our maximum speed, but we did have a huge supply of dilithium and knew we could always make a trek to that moon to get more. It was a little difficult to get accustomed to having to walk the length of the ship to get somewhere, but that extra space was needed. We had located another meeting room (given that the first one had been turned into our rec room) on the other end of the ship, and we all made our way down several long halls to get there. Once we all arrived, we sat around a large, square table.
Gambit, Rogue, the Professor, Hank, Colossus and I were joined by Nightcrawler, Moira MacTaggert, Psylocke and Angel. Storm and Wolverine were on bridge duty and were listening in.
Before the meeting got underway, I kept glancing at Angel and Psylocke. Every time I had seen them over the past several days, he's looked preoccupied with and extremely worried for her. That was a constant. She, on the other hand, was different every time I'd glimpsed her. I don't mean that physically she looked different; rather her mental condition was what varied. She did not seem to be having one of her better days that particular evening. She kept her head down and her body seemed to shake a bit. She looked up for a few seconds and I craned my neck around to get a look at her eyes. What I saw was frightening. She looked a bit mad, as in crazy.
I fleetingly wondered what good it would do Angel and Psylocke to have them there, but they were X-men and had every right to be in the meeting.
Hank began the meeting with a summary of the physical condition the rescued mutants were in. The Professor supplemented his report with a summary of their mental condition. I gotta say it was hard to just sit there and listen to it, even though it was nothing we didn't already know. It still is difficult to hear that one-third of the women now have some sort of sexually transmitted disease or listen to their equally bruised emotional states. Glancing around the table, it was easy to see the rage in my teammates's eyes as well. Everyone seemed to be holding it in remarkably well. Maybe we've all just seen too much and we're getting numb now.
The Professor did say that he'd begun work with Moira's step-daughter Siryn, and that she was making encouraging progress. That was good to hear; Moira seemed to smile as he said that. I dearly hoped he would work with Psylocke soon.
"Our next matter is to discuss where we are going from here," the Professor said.
"I want to rescue as many mutants as possible from these camps," Rogue said. "I dunno if it makes the most sense for us to fly all the way back to An'zhina and then go back to earth. We could save a lot of time if we raided several camps at once."
"It might not be feasible to do so," Hank said. "This ship has the capacity for a limited number of people at once."
"And we," Storm began, "may only be able to assist so many camp survivors at once. Providing counseling and help to the rescued mutants is a monumental job." The weary sound of her voice over the intercom said it all.
"Another thing we gotta realize is that we probably'll need more X-men to do the fightin' against the FOH when we liberate the camps," Wolverine said. "We succeeded this time, but from now on, you can bet those bastards will be expectin' us."
"And we have only eight of us who are trained and ready for combat," Storm said.
Nightcrawler spoke up, "In future missions, I will be able to help you though." I knew he'd been making use of our Danger Room already.
"I, too," Angel said.
No comment from Psylocke.
"But still, 10 fighters ain't a whole lot," I said. "Especially now that FOH is expecting us. Who knows what kind of weapons they got cooked up."
Gambit shook his head. "We need more. We need more of everythin'. We need more fighters and more people who can do de counseling work. We be putting a lot of strain on ourselves to be doing both."
"We can start trainin' the ones we rescued," Wolverine said. "A handful of them talked to me about wanting that."
The Professor nodded. "Yes. However, it does take time to get people trained to the level where they are ready to go on missions or operate a starship and its weapons systems."
We talked about this some more. Gambit's words kept resurfacing-we need * more* of everything to keep up these rescue missions. It's pretty amazing what a handful of us have already accomplished.
The discussion rolled around to the question of what to do with the mutants who did not wish to return to An'zhina. "Of course," Hank said, "several of the camp survivors are not in a mental condition where they are even able to decide about their future plans."
"Most of those who are," the Professor took off from there, "have expressed a desire to live-at least temporarily-on An'zhina. Approximately 20-30 percent of those I have spoken with want to return to earth and attempt to live underground."
"Why do they want to return to earth?" Angel asked. I guessed he'd spent most of his time with Psylocke and hadn't been discussing this with his fellow ex-prisoners.
"A lot of `em have family and other loved ones back on earth," Rogue said.
"They're crazy for wantin' to go back," Wolverine said. "They don't have much of a chance of staying underground for too long."
"You never know," I said. "Last we checked in with the surviving members of Alpha Flight, they've managed to stay alive underground for a while."
"Dey been trained fighters for years 'dough," Gambit said. "A lot of dese people on board now are jus' ordinary mutants without any fancy powers and wit' no training."
We talked about this for a while longer. At last, we came to an agreement. We would return to An'zhina, dropping off those who wanted to remain there. We would then head back for earth to another rescue mission, where we would liberate as many camps as possible. We would also drop off anyone who wanted to return to earth.
Storm then suggested that we make a list of our needs. Roughly speaking, we needed fighters, we needed counselors, and we needed people who could assist us during starship-to-starship battles in space. We also needed trainers-those who could train others to excel in any of those categories. The Danger Room could do only so much for those who wanted to train on their own; they would still need someone to monitor their progress and provide insights for improvement. Finally, we needed medical personnel. Hank simply could not be expected to serve as our only one who's had any formal training.
"We hae quite a huge undertaking," Moira summarized.
We talked it over some more. Finally, Hank got up to one of the flipcharts in the room and we began putting people into categories. Here is what we decided upon.
The Professor and Moira would head up the counseling function, with Storm and Rogue assisting with this work as needed. Just as we had thought, many of the girls and women only wanted to speak with another woman. The Professor and Moira would also seek out those who could work as counselors and train them.
Storm, Wolverine, Gambit, Rogue, Colossus, Angel, Nightcrawler and I would all serve as fighters. Our goal would be to train the other mutants-those who wanted to, of course-in getting their fighting skills up to speed as well as keeping our own as sharp as possible.
We discussed separating out "bridge duty" from everything else, but we agreed that it was something we would all need to know. We agreed that anyone training as a fighter should also know how to fly the ship and stave off other FOH vessels. These are, however, entirely different skills from holding your own during hand-to-hand combat or against lots of soldiers in a rescue mission, but both types of training are important.
Hank, of course, would head up the medical function-not just serving as the doctor but also training others to assist him. Needless to say, this was so herculean a task that it pretty much precluded him from doing anything else. So many of the rescued mutants needed immediate and constant medical supervision. He said out of all the rescued mutants, he only knew of one who had had any medical training at all. She went by the name Panda. I'd seen her working with Hank several times in sick bay but I'd been so busy that I hadn't really had time to talk to her much. From what he said during the meeting, Hank seemed to regard her quite highly.
Of course, the Professor and Storm would continue to act as our overall leaders. If Cyclops ever rejoined us, he would as well.
We did talk about Cyclops, Jean and Jubilee. I mean, aside from the fact that we all missed them, their skills sure would come in handy if they did ever want to travel with us on missions again. Needless to say, the choice would be theirs. No one could fault them for wanting to ensure that their children would be safe and not grow up orphans.
One other thing too. There were the basic ship functions that still needed to be attended to - things like life support and engineering, as well as administrative items like ensuring the over 200 mutants on board had something to do, had someone to go to when they needing things, didn't get out of hand, understood some basic things about living on board a starship, etc. We discussed at length the best way to ensure these administrative duties got taken care of as well. Finally, we agreed that those fighters who are less skilled at combat -and therefore not totally ready to be training others-would be put in change of this arena. It was felt that these duties would not be the best use of the time of Storm, Wolverine, Colossus, Rogue and Gambit-they'd been X-men so long and instead should focus on training others. Therefore, I was asked to head this up, with Nightcrawler and Angel assisting me.
I know that some might look down on such as assignment, but I didn't. It was work that needed to get done, and having lived on board the ship for the last year and a half, I would know what to do. And I agreed with the assessment that I was not quite ready to begin training other fighters. This would ensure that I stayed busy, though, given that I was still to be training as a fighter. Angel, Nightcrawler, and I agreed to meet the next day to talk about this assignment in more detail.
The meeting ran late into the evening. I really would have liked to go to sleep, but I was scheduled for bridge duty with Nightcrawler. Joy. It would be 5 more hours still before I could go to bed. I knew I'd need more coffee
I'd been trying to swallow my yawns but they were getting out of hand, and one slipped through. It felt good to open my mouth. I leaned back in my chair and stretched my arms back.
Kurt smiled as he saw me yawn. He, then, was forced to do the same. We both smiled. "Sorry," I muttered.
"More coffee for you, maybe?" he asked.
"No, thanks Kurt. We're not going to be here all night and I do want to be able to get * some* sleep tonight. Or this morning." I looked at my watch and started to say, "We only have two-" before I stopped myself. "Sorry," I said to Kurt. He did not like to know how much time was remaining before we'd be relieved of duty.
Kurt punched a few buttons on one of the consoles, performing a routine scan of the area of space we were in. I told him, "I gotta say, Kurt, you really picked this up fast. You know your way around the bridge well." Whenever one of us was on bridge duty with Nightcrawler or Angel, we spent our time getting them up to speed on the ship functions, and Kurt had really learned quickly.
"Thank you," he said. "These controls are not exceptionally difficult to learn."
"Yeah, we always used to joke that FOH really had to dumb it down in order to be able to understand it themselves. Like they told the designers, `Make everything as user-friendly as possible.'"
Kurt gave a quick smile. We'd already spent quite some time that night on training him, and I sensed he wanted to relax. He sat back in his chair, and said, "Tell me, Bobby, about the last year and a half that I missed. I hear bits and pieces from everyone. This last week has been so crazy. I want to hear your version."
I tilted my head up. "So much happened," I said. "I'm not even sure where to begin."
"Well, tell me about the children. Aurora and Charlotte."
"You've seen their pictures, right?" I asked. Kurt nodded. Before we left, we took pictures of Jean, Cyclops, Jubilee and their babies with us. They took pictures of the rest of us for themselves back on An'zhina. "Well, they're kind of young now so it's hard to say what their personalities will be like. They are both mutants."
"I wonder what their mutations will be," Kurt said. "Will they inherit their parents' powers or will it be something entirely different?"
"I wonder too." We spoke a bit more about the kids. I mentioned that Jubilee was really a great mom, and what a happy baby Aurora always seemed to be.
Kurt looked pensive I was really wondering what he was thinking of, when he spoke. "It must be very hard on her to have to bear….a rapist's child."
"You know, it's interesting. Jubilee and I have become pretty close, and she never has expressed to me any negative feelings about it. She insisted that she really wanted to have the baby. We were all so stunned when she told us that she was pregnant, but she insisted that she wanted the baby."
"She is amazingly strong, that Jubilee," Kurt mused. "People underestimate her."
"I would never underestimate her," I said. "I could always tell she was a tough one." We lapsed into a bit of silence. A question popped into my head, and my instincts told me Kurt would be ok with me asking it. "Kurt," I began, "what got you through it? What helped you survive the time you spent in the FOH camp?"
"God helped me through it," he said. "He gave me the strength. I prayed and I refused to give up hope. I knew that the rest of the X-men had to be alive and would be returning."
I tried to come up with a neutral response. I've got nothing against anyone's religion, but my experience with "Christians" while I grew up in Michigan involved them throwing judgement and hatred my way. "I'm glad you didn't give up hope on us. And I bet the mutants back on earth could use your prayers."
"I do pray for them," Kurt said, nodding. "And I pray for the people who have joined the Friends of Humanity."
I turned my head towards him and the look on my face must've made my feelings clear.
"They need help, Bobby," Kurt said. "They fear the unknown and they fear us. They allowed their fear to turn into hatred."
"You know, there are people and things that I'm afraid of too, but I'd never spew out hateful propaganda about them or imprison them. And I sure wouldn't assault them and leave them in the condition Psylocke is in!" I shuddered thinking of it. "And you didn't see how bad Jubilee was after FOH was done with her."
"I share your anger," Kurt said, though he sounded quite calm. "But we must forgive our enemies."
I shook my head. "You should read the report that Marie from Alpha Flight wrote about what FOH did to her and her teammates. Forcing members of the team to rape each other, forcing people to eat insects." My voice cracked with disgust. "The FOH are sick, sick, sick….and they're the ones who call * us* `evil'?" I paused. "I will never forgive them."
We didn't discuss that topic any more that night.
`The Professor is gonna tan our hides if he finds out about this,' Rogue thought to herself, as she quickly worked the replicator in the rec room. She knew she had only a few minutes for the machine to finish its work-Storm had reserved the rec room for a few hours that evening to hold a counseling session with a group of women. Because meeting room space was at such a premium, Bobby had come up with a system where someone could book a room if they needed to.
The replicator finished its work, and Rogue took the contents and stuffed them into her duffel bag. She then scurried out of the rec room and down the hall towards Storm's room. She hoped that the Professor was so occupied that he would not be reading her mildly guilty thoughts.
That evening was the evening that Rogue and Gambit had scheduled their date. It wound up being a few days later than they had originally wanted, but they had to pick an evening when neither would be on bridge duty until well into the following day. Rogue herself had just finished up her shift.
Rogue and Gambit had agreed to meet in their room at 7p.m. for their date. Rogue wanted her look to be a surprise to Remy, so she'd asked Storm if she could prepare for her date in Storm's room. Storm was happy to oblige her friend in this manner.
The door to Storm's room slid closed, and Rogue dumped the contents of her duffel bag out onto Storm's unmade bed. Rogue took a second to glimpse around the room, a bit surprised at the unkempt condition that the orderly Storm had allowed her room to come to. 'I guess it ain't a surprise,' Rogue thought to herself. 'Shit, we hardly get 10 minutes to ourselves a day. Who's got time to make the bed?'
Rogue's day had started quite a bit earlier in the morning than she would have preferred, as all her days now did. The entire morning was spent in training….she and the others were training a small group of mutants, as well as training each other. Afterwards, she and Gambit had grabbed a quick lunch together in the mess hall. Gambit then left to lead several of the mutants in a group activity for the afternoon. The first part of Rogue's afternoon was spent providing counseling services. She detested this task, but the simple fact was that a lot of women on board the ship desperately needed someone female to talk to. Rogue was spending a lot of time letting people cry on her shoulder and listening to them recant absolutely horrifying experiences. All Rogue could do was pretend momentarily that she hadn't lived through the same abominations. She noted that several of the women were missing teeth, as she was, and a few had even asked her if the FOH had pulled them out too.
After her counseling sessions, Rogue's day continued with bridge duty. After her shift, she had then sprinted over to the rec room to get in and replicate her evening gown before Storm took over the room.
Rogue checked the time. She had 20 minutes before her date with Gambit. She removed her uniform, dearly hoping she'd packed everything in the duffel bag that she would need. She took a quick shower. Afterwards, she slipped on the gown that she had just replicated. It was a dramatic, sleek black number, with a slit up the side and a low-cut neckline.
Rogue then went to work on her hair. She tried numerous times to coax it into an up-swept elegant style, but her wavy locks just would not cooperate. Getting frustrated, Rogue settled for keeping her hair styled in its usual way, cascading down her shoulders. She then sighed and studied her reflection in the mirror. She really wished for a bit of make-up. Of course, Gambit always told her she was beautiful without it and didn't need any. And although Rogue could justify to herself replicating clothing, she couldn't mentally justify replicating make-up.
`Oh shoot! I forgot to pack shoes,' Rogue realized, fishing through her duffel bag. She would have to do without. It was now 7pm.
Rogue scurried down the hall to the room she shared with Gambit. On her way to their quarters, she passed Colossus. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted with satisfaction that the Russian gave her an appreciative look.
When the door to their room slid aside, Rogue's eyes needed a moment to become adjusted. The lights were off. Instead, the room was lit by candlelight. A small table had been brought in, with two chairs placed around it. A bouquet of flowers adorned the center of the table. * Replicated* flowers, but beautiful flowers nonetheless.
"Remy!" Rogue exclaimed, pleased at the work he'd done.
"You like, chere?" Gambit asked. He was wearing a typical Gambit-evening out ensemble, and he looked stunning. His auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
"The flowers are beautiful." She paused and looked at him through the dim light. "So are you."
"You look stunning tonight, chere," Gambit breathed. They stepped close to each other, ready for an embrace. Rogue instinctively stepped back and turned towards the shelves in the room. She retrieved her collar and put it on.
"Much better," she said, smiling. She returned to Gambit and stepped into an embrace. He tilted her head up and covered her lips with his. His kiss was soft, wet and probing. Gambit always had this effect on her. Suddenly she didn't want dinner anymore, didn't want to bathe by candlelight with him, she just wanted him to make love to her.
But Gambit broke off the kiss. He reached for one of her hands, kissed it, and then led her to the table. "The night is still young, chere," he said. They sat together at the table.
Rogue was just starting to wonder how exactly Gambit planned to get dinner to them, when a knock was heard on their door. "Come on in, Bobby," Gambit called as Rogue looked quizzically at her date.
Bobby Drake entered, carrying a tray of food. Gambit got up and helped Bobby place the bowls and wine glasses on the table. Rogue giggled. "Bobby, what did Gambit bribe you with to get you to play waiter?"
"No bribing necessary," Bobby said. "I'm just a nice guy." After dinner was placed on the table, Bobby wished the couple well and departed.
"What a sweetie he is," Rogue said, after Bobby had gone. "You're such a sweetheart, too, Remy. Goin' to all this trouble so we can have a nice evening like this."
All during dinner, and later during their candlelit bubble bath, the couple half expected some alarm to go off or some ensuing crisis to interrupt their date. Yet no emergency called them away this time.
The most difficult thing they had to deal with that evening was the fact that the bathtub was really only made for one person and they could not both fit inside it no matter how they arranged and rearranged their long limbs. Laughing, they dodged the puddles on the bathroom floor and dried off. Gambit carried Rogue to the bed, and all the stress they'd been experiencing was long forgotten.
Later, Rogue was laying on her back, her legs spread wide. Gambit's lips and tongue were wreaking havoc on her, causing her to feel such inexpressibly wondrous sensations. She stroked his head, threading her fingers through his silky auburn hair. "Oh god Remy….feels so good," she murmured. One of Gambit's hands reached up and caressed a plump breast as his mouth continued to taste her.
Rogue didn't have anything or anyone to compare Gambit too. All she knew was that making love with him was amazing, he was so skilled and so...sensual. Like how he was right then taking his time, loving her throbbing little bud with his tongue as if they had all the time in the galaxy, as if it were some precious jewel he desired or the most delicious fruit he'd ever tasted and wanted to savor. "Reeeeemy," Rogue groaned again. She removed her hand from his head and instead grabbed the bed boards. Her body left her no choice but to thrust and thrust against Gambit's tongue. She felt it coming, felt the climax build up inside her. She began to thrust so furiously that she feared she would buck him off, but Gambit held on. He loved the feeling of her little nub swelling and throbbing against the ministrations of his tongue. The soundproof walls of the ship came in handy so no one heard Rogue scream when her peak overwhelmed her.
When her hips stopped moving, Gambit lifted his head up. "Again?" he asked. Rogue had the heavy-lidded eyes of a very contented cat. Gambit, meanwhile, was in heaven. There was no sight in the world more breathtaking to him than that of Rogue laying on her back with her legs open to him, invitingly. He adored the look on her face, the look of the woman he loved in the throes of desire.
"Oh, Remy…..so good. So good."
He began to dip his head back down, but Rogue murmured, "Want you inside me now, love."
A brief interruption was necessary as Gambit reached for the condom on the nightstand. He tore the wrapper off and sheathed his long, throbbing cock. Gambit then repositioned himself above his lover. He bent his head to kiss her mouth and whispered endearments in French to her. He then reached around for one of her ears and lightly nibbled on it.
Rogue groaned, relishing every second. She gasped as Remy suddenly entered her, easily sliding into her very wet warmth. He plunged forward and then moved his hips, slowly at first. Rogue's cries urged him to move faster.
The feelings were just as exquisite for Remy. He'd never loved a woman as much as he loved Rogue. She was such a passionate woman, so eager for his touch and so appreciative of his lovemaking. All this was combined with the heavenly physical sensations-her velvety pussy clutching him, the wetness gripping his hardness, Rogue's ever-building moans. They now knew how to reach a climax together, and they slowly built towards it. "Oh, chere," Gambit breathed. "Oh….….you feel it?" he asked, knowing they both were getting closer to the explosion. His thrusts become harder, faster and more powerful. They cried out as they came together.
The couple remained there for many long moments. They later shifted position so that Rogue lay on top of Gambit, her head resting on his chest. Their bodies were coated with sweat. Gambit absentmindedly stroked her damp hair as they drifted off into a contented sleep.
"Elena seems to be doing better," Panda said to Beast one day. They were taking a brief break during their hectic day, eating lunch together in a corner of the infirmary. The round table where the X-men had eaten breakfast, lunch and dinner together every day for months and months was gone as the space in sick bay was needed. Panda and Beast ate with trays on their laps, sitting in two chairs facing each other.
"She is indeed responding well to the drugs, and the infection she has should be completely gone in a matter of weeks," Hank said. "She has also been eating steadily and the malnutrition is gradually being reversed." Many of the female prisoners suffered from severe malnutrition. During their time in the Mutant Containment Centers, many had simply been unable to make themselves eat and were wasting away. FOH had force fed a few of them, but the nutritional needs of most had been brutally under-met.
"I really meant that she seems to be doing better emotionally," Panda said.
"Ah, yes. I also see improvement there. Professor Xavier has been working with her."
"He seems like a remarkable man," Panda mused. Hank had told her a bit of the X-men's experiences. Whenever they had a spare moment, they talked and Panda was learning bits and pieces about the X-men and what they had accomplished over the last 10-15 years.
"I admire the Professor more than anyone," Hank said. He thought of going into more detail and telling her a bit about why he so looked up to the Professor, but something she had said a moment ago lingered in his mind. He changed the subject. "Panda, back to what you said about Elena," Hank began. "I have noticed that you always seem to be equally concerned about our patients' emotional and physical condition."
"Of course," she said, shrugging. "If we're going to treat people, we have to treat the whole person. I don't necessarily separate the mental from the physical."
"A holistic view of healing, one which I support as well. I wonder if you might like to try your hand at counseling. I know that the Professor, Moira, Rogue and Storm are devoting as much of their energies as possible to assisting the rescued mutants. But there is only so much 4 people can do to help 200 people, especially given how severely many of the 200 were tortured. There will always be a need for more people to listen and help."
Panda nodded. "I know what you mean, Hank. But I have no experience with serving as a therapist. I'm afraid it would be a bit like blind leading blind." She paused, and hesitated. She considered revealing to Hank that she, too, had been raped at the hands of FOH soldiers. Perhaps her situation had not quite as dire as the other women. Panda rationalized that she had only been raped a handful of times, whereas the other women had been gang raped constantly for months on end. But still….what Panda experienced haunted her as well.
Hank looked deep into her eyes. "Are-are you alright, Jessica?" he asked. He thought he saw something flash across her face.
She forced a smile. She had no wish to burden this gentle and kind man with her troubles. And she really did not wish to reveal to anyone that she had been raped. "I'm fine, Hank. But I really think I am just not cut out for counseling at this stage."
"It was just a thought. As you know, I am desperate for help here as well. You are doing a remarkable job."
"Thank you." She paused and changed the subject, "So tell me, Hank. Which do you prefer-working with patients and healing them, or performing scientific research?"
He tilted his head up and considered. "Truly, I love them both. The thrill of a scientific discovery, of learning something new. However, seeing someone recover his or her health is also a thrill."
"You were born for this work."
Hank smiled. "So, I think, were you, Panda. It saddens me that you were not permitted to attend medical school
"Well, it looks like I have me a great teacher right here," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
The Professor approached Rogue and Gambit one evening. He asked to have a moment with them in private. Neither Rogue nor Gambit, of course, possessed the Professor's extraordinary telepathic abilities, but both had a good guess as to what this discussion would be regarding.
"I must ask that both of you refrain from replicating unnecessary items," Charles said to the couple.
Rogue blushed and looked down at her hands, which she had folded and placed in her lap. She wasn't sure exactly how many different items of lingerie she now had, and add to that the evening gown, the wine and flowers that Gambit had created for their date….
"I trust you understand that I am not making this request in order to be didactic. As you know, we have sufficient dilithium to last us several years. However, if you two are allowed to replicate such items, then everyone else will want the same privilege. And we do not have enough dilithium for 200 people to replicate whatever they want. We have to now set an example."
"I'm sorry, Professor," Rogue said, still looking down. At least, she told herself, her teacher surely could sense that her remorse was sincere.
Remy smiled and looked at the Professor. "We be good from now on, Professor. We very sorry."
The Professor nodded and turned his hover chair towards the door. They exchanged goodbyes, and the Professor left the room.
"Oh, how embarassin'!" Rogue said. Her cheeks were flushed.
"Is ok, chere," Gambit said, patting her hand. "Don' worry about it."
"But god, do you think he knows about the black number with the garters and the G-string?"
"And the see-through bra!" Gambit added, smiling.
"Wipe that grin off yer face, Swamp Rat!" Rogue exclaimed, playfully slapping him.
"Thank god I'm a dyke."
The words were spoken by Marrow, a young American woman in her late teens. A survivor of the camps, she was one of the mutants who expressed a desire to join the X-men. Her mutation manifested itself in that several of her bones grew right through her skin. She had the ability to detach them and use them as weapons, though breaking the bones off always caused her pain. It was quite a unique mutation; none of the X-men had ever seen anything like this before. Although short and slender, Marrow (who rarely went by her given name of Sarah) had a formidable appearance-sharp bones jutting through areas of her face, shoulders, arms, back, and legs. Even if it weren't for the bones, the look in her eyes would have been enough to scare many.
She had been working extensively with the X-men on training, and that particular morning was taking a rest break alongside Storm when Marrow made her declaration.
Storm smiled at Marrow's statement. The young woman could never be called subtle.
"I mean it," Marrow continued. "I mean, I've known that I'm a lesbian all my life, but shit if I wasn't one before entering the camps, I sure would be now. I don't know how any woman could live through that and not be a dyke now."
Storm once again smiled and took a swig of water, at a bit of a loss for what to say. She knew that Marrow partly just wanted a reaction, and Storm was not really in the mood to just give her one.
"This is the first I have heard you make a reference to….what you survived at the camps. Have you reconsidered your decision to forgo counseling? Perhaps you would benefit from talking about your experiences." Storm said.
"Oh, come on. Quit talking like some professional therapist. I really have no desire to sit there and stare at someone while they listen to my sob story. No thanks. * This* is the best therapy money can buy."
"Working with the X-men, you mean?" Storm asked. Marrow was one of the few of the new mutants who had not been the least bit awed by the chance to train with the X-men. Unlike many of the others, she never expressed her gratitude towards them for the rescue or the training.
"Uh-huh. I can't wait to kick some FOH butt." Marrow abruptly changed the subject. "So are there any other gay people here or am I the only one?"
"Well, as far as I know, there is only one other gay person on the ship. No one else has come forward and revealed their orientation."
"So who's the other one? Oh, I know. It's Bobby isn't it?" Marrow knew him from training with him and the other X-men.
Storm's instinct had been to protect Iceman's privacy. After all, he had not ever really stated that he wanted to be out to everyone. However, since Marrow clearly already knew, Storm nodded.
"He seems like a total wuss."
"He's not. He's very brave, and he's a very good fighter. I'm proud to have him as a member of the team, and as a friend."
"Yeah, whatever. Well, if you run into any other lesbians, will you send them my way? Its sucks if I'm gonna be the only one here."
"Of course."
Marrow twisted the lid off her water bottle. "Why are we always drinking crap like water? I want some booze."
Storm again smiled at the young woman's comment. If she lasted as an X-man, she would be quite a challenge to work with.
"So how much longer till we reach this moon place that we're allowed to stay at?" Marrow asked.
"We have about three weeks of our journey left," Storm replied.
"What a waste of time. Once we get there, we gotta come all the way back to earth. I can't wait to get my hands on those Fuckers on Heroin…..I mean, Friends of Humanity." Marrow then made a gesture that mimicked ripping off one of her bones and brandishing it as a weapon against an opponent.
"Killing is not the X-men's way, Marrow," Storm said.
Marrow ignored her.
"Charles, I think you and I will be needing counseling after this," Moira said to the Professor one morning during their daily breakfast together. He knew that she was only partly joking.
The Professor nodded and looked down at his tea. "This work is indeed grueling. I do, however, find it very rewarding when I see a patient make progress."
"Siryn is getting better every day. I canna thank you enough for that, Charles."
"She has a very strong mind, Moira. The more mutants I work with, the more impressed I become at their resilience. After having endured so much, they find strength within themselves." Charles tried to keep his tone positive, as he was not a man to linger on the negatives. However, having worked with so many rape survivors, his mind was so often filled with the abhorrent images of what they had lived through. He experienced it in a way that very few men ever could because part of the healing process involved entering the survivor's mind. He had to force himself to focus on the positive and remain optimistic.
"I hope that will continue to be true, and that Siryn will be alright in the long term." She sighed. "The poor girl. She was tortured beyond belief, and on top of that she had to be told that her father was killed. Siryn and Sean were so close. He was crazy about her, always was. It just breaks my heart-" Moira stopped suddenly. She had not at all intended to dwell on her loss or go down that road, but images of the love that she and Sean had shared filled her mind. His warm smile, his laugh, his tenderness. She would never experience those things again. And her son…..Moira's voice cracked and she had to fight to compose herself. "I'm sorry," she managed as the tears formed.
"Moira, please," Charles said gently. "Feel free to cry if you need to. You yourself have lost much. And you have been spending all of your time helping others without hardly a thought to yourself. Cry if you need to. I am here for you."
Charles had been without the use of his legs for a very long time now. The Professor was not a man prone to self-pity. At that moment, however, he found himself fervently wishing he could rise from his wheelchair and hug Moira. Instead, the large hover chair formed such a barrier around him.
Moira no longer attempted to hold back her tears, and she began to cry freely. The Professor extended his arms. Moira rose and walked to the side of his hover chair. From that angle, Charles was able to embrace her, albeit awkwardly.
After several moments, Moira pulled back. She used her napkin as a handkerchief to wipe away her tears. "I feel much better now, " she said, resolutely, though they both knew she was lying. "Thank you, Charles."
"Moira, if you ever wish to talk about-"
"No, no, thank you, Charles. I do appreciate the offer. But you and I need to remain strong and remain focussed. We have to help the rescued prisoners and we canna spend time dwelling on our own sorrows."
"There is no sense in being a martyr, either. We are only human."
Moira nodded. She placed the napkin back down on her table and forced herself to smile. "So, how is Psylocke doing?" she asked, looking up. Her tone was back to its normal resolute self. "Has she agreed to work with you yet?'
"No, she has not," Charles said, accepting the fact that Moira was not ready to talk about her own loss yet. "I have approached her a number of times. Whenever she is around me, she insists that she is fine. I know, of course, that is far from the case and her psyche is severely damaged. However, I cannot force someone to work with me. I can only hope that she changes her mind."
"I hope Warren will be successful in trying to persuade her."
"I hope so too," Charles said. He knew that Warren was in quite a state, sick with worry over Betsy and despairing that the real Betsy would ever return. No sense in bring that up now, as it was apparent to anyone, telepath or not, who spent any time around Warren.
"Moira," Charles began again, "have you thought of what you will do when we reach An'zhina? Will you remain there, or accompany us back to earth for another rescue mission?"
"My counseling services are needed here. I will accompany the group back. The only thing I can think of that would change my mind would be if Siryn wants to remain on An'zhina and is adamant that I stay with her. If so, I might have to abide by her wishes. We haven't discussed this yet." Moira paused. "I understand the temptation to remain on An'zhina, if it is as beautiful as you say it is. But I agree with something you mentioned to me so many years ago. I do not desire an easy life, but rather a moral life."
TO BE CONTINUED