Talons

Chapter 16

Five suits. Five suits. Kurt kept going over the fact in his mind, in some pathetic hope that the repetition would help spark some idea of what to do about it. Isidro stared at the screen, watching the convoy of trucks inch their way ever closer. They were only ten miles away, well within missile range and closing with relentless speed. Xavier did not move from his previous position, eyes closed, hands folded across his lap.

The convoy of trucks, despite the fact they were making their way down the screen, were inching into the upper left corner along with the rest of the topography. Rogue compensated as best she could, but the satellite was moving further out of range.

"Are there any other satellites you can switch to?" Hank asked.

"Kitty's workin' on that now," Rogue's voice called.

From what sounded like a farther distance away, Kitty herself said, "I'm working on it, guys, but it doesn't look good. The closest one is strictly a telecommunications satellite. No visuals at all."

Xavier breathed out, a sigh of relief, and relaxed a bit. The rigs seemed to have stopped moving.

"What did you do?" Isidro asked.

Xavier opened his eyes. "I gave us a little breathing room. The drivers have all stopped their vehicles and snapped their keys off in the ignition."

"That keeps the robots away from us, but what about the missiles?" Rogue asked.

Missiles! Kurt turned to Hank. "Hank, Scott once told me you did miracles with electronic things. Could you operate a missile rack?"

"Could I what?" Hank asked, mystified.

Kurt pointed out in the direction of the fight a few nights ago. "The first attack, they tried to use missiles on us, and the trailer is still out there full of them! I don't know how badly Storm damaged the controls in the cab, but I know that the trailer should be intact! All we need to do is… turn it over…."

He trailed off helplessly, realizing there was no way to do that. Only Colossus had that sort of strength.

"No, maybe it could still work," Isidro said. "If we got some cables and used other cars to pull the trailer upright--"

"There's no way to get the cars in there," Kurt sighed. "It's too far off the road."

Isidro looked at Kotoko, then at Xavier, then back to Kotoko. He touched the back of his neck.

Xavier's eyes widened. "Mister Delgado, surely you aren't even considering--"

"It's strong enough," Isidro interrupted. "I know it's strong enough to roll a trailer."

"But even if we could make that damaged suit work, you don't have any consciousness while inside. How would you control yourself?"

Isidro flung his arms wide in desperation. "Look, do we have a better idea? Do we? Even if those rigs are stopped dead, they can still fire the missiles at us from there!"

"And with the trucks stopped, that's exactly what they'll do," Kurt added dully. "I'm the only one that has a chance of getting there before they're launched."

"Kurt, that's near the edge of your range as is," Hank warned. "And remember what I told you about teleporting in your condition? You'll blow your eardrums again and be useless by the time you get there. You'll just be another hostage, assuming you survive the experience."

"No he won't," Rogue's voice said. "Y'all give me two seconds to get down there."

:

Storm had not feared the weather since she was thirteen. She usually felt at one with it, nestled in its motherly embrace. Now, that mother had turned vicious and abusive. Winds strong as a jetstream pushed at the Blackbird, shoving it away from the bloody, pulsing edge of the wormhole. Cyclops had his hands full just keeping the jet level. The other craft in the sky were in no better shape. Wind shear tossed them around as if they were petals in the wind. Those that could landed. Those that could not landed with more catastrophic consequences. The talons on the ground huddled and hooked together, interlinking their arms like ants creating a bridge. The largest vehicles, tanks, Cyclops supposed, were unaffected by the sheer force of the wind, but they had stopped firing. Whether they were running out of ammunition or the weather was interfering with their weapon locks, Cyclops didn't know, nor did he care.

"Storm, we need a clear pocket," he ordered. "Don't bother trying to bring it under control, just give me a pocket, a tunnel, anything to get us into that wormhole."

Storm's eyes were still as red as the sky. Her whole body clenched with the stress of exerting control. She bent over, still holding onto her seat, until her head rested against the shuddering yoke. She closed her eyes and bared her teeth in a feral snarl.

I'm stronger than you are. You're not beating me. No, you're not....

The wind abruptly stopped. Cyclops did not question, he simply aimed. Her engines already revved to overload, the Blackbird leapt into the wormhole.

:

The plan was simple in its desperation. Simple, if ludicrously dangerous. Kotoko went to the hanger and did everything he could to make Isidro's headless robotic suit work. Xavier worked with Isidro himself, forming a telepathic bond that would hopefully be strong enough to withstand Isidro's upcoming neural disruption. Hank cannibalized some of the Danger Room explosives into a crude, powerful bomb. It was up to Rogue to get that bomb to its destination, and there was only one way she could do it. The thought scared both her and Kurt, but it did not deter them. The two stood, facing each other, in the danger room while Hank worked furiously in the background.

"How much longer, Hank?" Rogue called over her shoulder.

"A little bit," he said.

Rogue sighed and hugged her arms close. She never enjoyed using her power. Bad enough that it hurt people, but the added personality overlay was murder, and it never completely faded away. At least, the personalities hadn't gone away yet. Maybe they would, eventually. Maybe when she could control her powers more....

"I'm seconds from finishing, Marie," Hank told her. "Start it now."

Rogue removed her right glove and she and Kurt knelt on the floor within arm's reach. It wouldn't do to have him fall from a standing position and crack his skull open on the floor. And he was going to fall, unconscious, twitching, just like the rest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching for his hand.

Kurt reached out and bypassed her hand, placing his on her forehead. For the first moment, there was nothing. Then there was fire, numbing pain, the feeling of falling into a horrible black pit, clawing at the edges and unable to climb out as the floor retreated further and further and the light faded out completely--

He gasped and shook, eyes rolling into the back of his head, as his hand dropped. Rogue grabbed his hand. She had to imprint further. As much as she hated to do it, she had to make sure she had all of his power for this. He mumbled something as he slipped further, and Rogue found herself joining him, praying in a language that was previously foreign and incomprehensible. She caught him before he fell, gently laid him on the floor, and finished the prayer for him. Rather than the expected flash flood of emotions, his psyche washed over her gently, like the rising of the Nile.

If only everyone was as peaceful inside as you, she thought.

She stood up quickly, using only her legs, and spun with unaccustomed speed and grace. Hank was stepping up to her, a backpack held in one hand.

"The instructions are simple," he told her. "Pull the line, and you've got five seconds to get out." He indicated a thin red cord that dangled outside the daypack. "I don't think I have to tell you not to bother withdrawing it from the backpack?"

She took the pack and slung it over one shoulder. "No, Doktor McCoy. That will not be necessary. Danke."

She had Kurt's accent and mannerisms. She also had Kurt's yellow eyes and a blue tinge to her skin. Hank decided not to tell her about the latter parts. She had enough on her mind.

"Watch yourself, Marie," he told her softly. "With their rigs stopped, the robots are active now."

They both looked back at the screen. The switching station itself was gone. The stopped convoy was in the upper left corner, barely visible. Much more visible were the mechanical suits walking down the road. Considering the scale, they were "walking" at thirty miles an hour, if not more.

Rogue teleported out in a cloud of blue. Hank knelt beside Kurt, who was passed out on the floor. His pulse was slow, but steady, skin a little cool.

Well, he thought, it was marginally better than him teleporting there himself....

He looked back at the screen. Whatever Rogue was going to do, she had to do it fast. She'd use up Kurt's power quickly with such a long teleport. By that time, the convoy was off the screen. Hank swore under his breath. They no longer had the ability to keep track of her.

"I know, I know, but I can't do anything about it," Kitty's voice apologized. "There's nothing else in range for at least half an hour."

From the upper right corner of the screen, where the convoy was parked, they could see part of the silent bloom of a fireball. Hank knew for a fact the device he gave Rogue didn't have that much punch. That was the sight of some much heavier ordinance going off. Upstairs, they must be hearing the boom by now. Seconds passed.

"Hank?" Kitty asked hesitantly. "Shouldn't Rogue be back by now?"

To be continued….