THE HEAVENS OPEN
By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)
As always, I wish to thank my beta tester Leigh for assisting with every aspect of my writing.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
*************
Rogue and Gambit were having a lighthearted talk in their quarters one night. "Bobby told me something funny today," Rogue said with a smile. "I don't know how we got on it, but we got to talkin' 'bout sex. He said that he and Northstar use food sometimes. He said Northstar likes it every now and then---say, licking chocolate sauce or honey off Bobby's back. Or 'other places', as Bobby put it."
Gambit chucked. "Remember the times we tried it?" He and Rogue had tried mixing food and sex on a few occasions. The time when she licked chocolate off his back was mutually enjoyable. Other instances weren't as much fun, such as the time they got crazy with the whipped crème. It had all ended up way too sweet, sticky, and very messy. Rogue remembered getting a mouth full of whipped cream mixed with some of Gambit's body hair---not the most pleasant combination in the world. They'd wound up making a break for the shower. Thinking back to that, Rogue thought perhaps she should have shared it with the other women that day when they'd sat in Storm's room and reminisced about their worst times in bed. 'Cept that,' Rogue said to herself, 'it had ended well.' The part in the shower had been great, once Rogue scrubbed all the whipped cream off herself.
Gambit then asked, "Did Bobby say he liked it?"
"He said he wasn't crazy 'bout it, but Northstar's the one who really likes to put the stuff on him and eat it up. Bobby said he's okay goin' along with it. Seems like Northstar sure does like to eat." She giggled, "Food, I mean. He's a big eater, ain't he?"
Gambit and Rogue had indeed witnessed Northstar gulp down his food at mealtimes. Occasionally, the speedster would then give his lover an endearing look and start on Bobby's own food, once he'd wiped his own plate clean. "I t'ink it got somet'in' to do wit' his hyperspeed," Gambit speculated. "Maybe he needs more food. Jeanne-Marie eats a lot too. Neither of dem has much fat on deir bodies dough."
"Yup—I bet their hyper systems just gobble all that food up."
"So what else did Bobby say?" Gambit asked.
"Nuthin' much," Rogue said, noticing that Gambit truly seemed interested in the topic. "He just asked if you and me ever tried the food thing in bed. I told him 'bout our great adventure with the whipped cream." They giggled together over that.
*************
A few days after the X-men had set out from An'zhina after depositing their excess dilithium, several X-men lingered in the mess hall after dinner. Jean Grey had replicated a new dessert pattern, one that was both exotic and delicious. It consisted of fried banana, with vanilla ice cream and a rum-caramel sauce, embellished with raspberry and strawberry slices. It was simple but quite incredible, and many X-men found themselves grateful for the surplus of dilithium which allowed such luxuries. During their last mission, when they'd barely been able to return to An'zhina, dessert had been a forbidden extra which wasted dilithium and was therefore off-limits. Their dessert then had consisted of plain fruit and nothing more.
Iceman and Northstar sat next to each other as usual. In a somewhat giddy mood, perhaps inspired by the rum in the decadent dessert, they were more affectionate in public than usual. They held hands on the table a bit, and at one point, Northstar fed Bobby slices of the banana. Rogue and Gambit giggled at their display and then took to sliding slices of the banana in each other's mouths as well.
After dinner, many of the X-men headed off for a basketball game. Another group had talked about programming a "Jungle Adventure" game on the holodeck, and went off to play that.
Leaving their son Christopher in the hands of Nightcrawler (who was gladly performing babysitting service for him and for Rory), Jean and Scott brought Charlotte to the rec room. They found themselves sitting on the floor by a large chest, sorting through the different toys that were stored in the rec room. Charlotte was gleefully picking up toys, testing them, and cavalierly throwing ones she didn't like to the side (much to the dismay of her father.)
The portion of the rec room that Jean and Scott were sitting in was hidden from the entrance to the room by an angled wall. (The rec room had, after all, been expanded by knocking down the walls of a few different rooms—so the construction of the room itself didn't have the usual straight lines and rectangular shapes of most of the conference rooms on the ship.) Jean and Scott were present in the moment with Charlotte, watching her sort through the toys, and were not paying attention to whether or not they were alone. They didn't hear the door when it opened.
"I can't believe it. They were all over each other at dinner," Cyclops was muttering.
"Well, holding hands in public isn't a cardinal sin," Jean countered.
"I know, but the feeding each other the dessert----**that** was truly disgusting," he said, with great umbrage in his voice.
"It did seem a little inappropriate for the dinner table," Jean conceded. They were talking about Iceman and Northstar, but she rationalized that she didn't like it too much when Rogue and Gambit showed that kind of affection in public either.
Cyclops shook his head. "I can't believe that I gave up my—**our**—wedding vows to save the life of someone who doesn't know the meaning of the word 'morals'!"
Jean started to say, "Now, Scott, that isn't fair," but she ended up gasping when she saw the two men that she and her husband had been discussing now standing right before them. Jean was stunned; she hadn't heard them enter. She was not in the habit of using her powers when she didn't need to, and therefore hadn't been mentally scanning the room either.
"I really don't appreciate you acting as our moral authority, Cyclops."
Northstar said the words flatly. He was fuming, clearly in fighting stance; Jean guessed that he must have overheard the entire conversation. Bobby stood behind Northstar, looking quite worried.
Scott leapt to his feet, and Jean followed automatically. She saw, in the space of a second or two, Scott looking first startled and shaken, and then defensive and angry. "Shut your mouth, Northstar," he said. "It's because of me that you're alive---and don't you forget it."
"Ooooh, so I owe you forever now?" Northstar asked, sarcasm dripping. "So I have to listen to your bigoted crap?? You're as bad as Todd."
In the space of an instant, Jean caught that her husband was about to punch Northstar. Quick as a wink, she placed a hand on Scott's arm. "Don't do it, Scott," she said soothingly.
Almost simultaneously, Bobby stepped in front of Northstar. "Come on, Jean-Paul," he said quietly. "Let's not pick a fight."
"No fight!" Charlotte said, stepping in between the two couples. She had watched the exchange from the sidelines, somewhat horrified and frozen. Upon experiencing her father ready to strike someone, she was shocked into action and moved from her paralysis. "No fight!" she repeated, her voice almost a yell. She grabbed onto one of Scott's legs.
Northstar and Cyclops were forced to soften their fighting stances due to the interventions of the others. Cyclops felt that he had no choice but to pick up his daughter, given her insistent tugging on his pants leg. There was awkward silence for a few seconds.
"Do me a favor and keep your bigoted bile to yourself, or maybe at least away from impressionable children," Northstar said, never breaking his gaze from Scott. His voice was low and simmering with anger, but he'd relaxed from attack position. Bobby had a hand on one of his shoulders. "You're not the judge of what is moral and what isn't."
Scott opened his mouth as if to reply, but Charlotte tugged at his pants again and he remained quiet. A second or two after his demand of Scott, Northstar took Bobby's hand and led him from the rec room.
****************
Well, our relations with Jean and Scott were never great, I told myself. Now I started to wonder if they were ruined beyond repair.
****************
Freedom continued its journey towards the strange planet, the one from which the X-men had taken dilithium and on which they had been forced to leave a shuttle. Using warp drive, they came nearer and nearer to the planet. Just a few more days remained before they would be able to reach the planet's orbit.
One morning, Rogue woke from her sleep early. She clutched her stomach, feeling a dreadful sensation inside, a nausea more severe than any she had experienced before. She made it to the bathroom just before she vomited.
When she had finished brushing her teeth, she looked into the mirror and smiled, despite the queasy feeling in her stomach, her bleary eyes and tousled hair. Her menstrual period was now approximately six days late and apparently she had morning sickness.
It's time to tell Remy, she told herself. She hadn't wanted to get his hopes up when her period had been just a few days late. But now she'd had two days in a row of nausea in the morning. And six days was now a substantial number of days for her period to be late.
"What you doin' up so early, chere?" a groggy Gambit asked, when he felt and heard Rogue get back into bed. He kept his eyes closed and Rogue knew he was only partially awake.
"Nothin', sugar," Rogue whispered. She gave him a peck on the cheek. "Go back to sleep."
Gambit mumbled something incoherent in reply, and promptly fell back asleep. Rogue, however, remained too excited for slumber. Her queasiness had subsided for the moment, fortunately. At first, she sat up in bed, just smiling and looking at Remy as he slept. She loved seeing the stubble on his face, his now messy hair, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She loved **him.** Rogue remained simply watching Gambit and grinning for a while. After a bit, though, she decided to start her day even though it was far more early than usual.
After showering and dressing, Rogue headed straight for sick bay. It was time to get a pregnancy test. She dreaded this part quite a bit, for two reasons. One, she hated the possibility that she could be wrong. And secondly, approaching Hank would be a bit uncomfortable too. As was obvious to everyone, he was reeling from the fact of his separation from Panda and Rob. Rogue didn't think Hank wanted to hear much about babies.
Beast was in the infirmary, as usual, and he appeared unsurprised when Rogue requested a pregnancy test. All the X-men knew that she and Gambit had been trying to conceive. He behaved businesslike and straightforward as he drew her blood.
The two chatted as they waited for the results of the test, avoiding the subject of Panda and Rob. They spoke mostly of the planet that Freedom was approaching, speculating as to what they might encounter there and on the possible ramifications of having left their shuttle there.
After not too long, the test results were ready.
****************
"Remy! Hey, Remy---wake up!"
Rogue shook her husband gently, but not without a bit of her renowned strength.
"Huhhh? What is it, chere?" Gambit asked, opening and rubbing his eyes. "Everyt'in' ok?"
"Remy, I had a pregnancy test!" Gambit was now sitting up in bed. Rogue was grasping his arm. "I'm pregnant!"
"Mon dieu!" Gambit exclaimed. Logically, he knew that it wasn't shocking. But still. After months of trying, it now was a reality. He pulled her into an embrace.
"Oh, Remy, I'm so happy!"
"Me too, chere." Gambit spoke the truth. He still had his hesitations over fatherhood. But seeing her so truly overjoyed, he could not help but to mirror her glee.
Rogue reached for Gambit's face and planted a random smattering of kisses all over it. She squeezed Gambit against her.
"Chere," Gambit managed.
Rogue released her grasp on Remy. "Oh, sorry, sugar. Was I crushin' you?"
"A bit. Dis much better now." He sighed and affectionately ran a few fingers through her hair. "We gonna be parents."
"I know," Rogue said, smiling. "We're gonna have our own little baby to raise. Oh God, Remy, I can't wait! I'd been a bit worried I couldn't get pregnant, since it was takin' so long."
"Aww, chere. It didn't take dat long at all. So we gonna be parents soon! Do we know how far along you are?"
"Hank said I'm between twenty-one and twenty-eight days pregnant. He's got some fancy new blood test that's real precise." She kissed him again, and then said, excitedly, "C'mon! Let's go tell the others!"
"Remy's gotta shower first."
"Oh, yeah."
Rogue stripped off her clothing and followed him into the shower. They exuberantly and haphazardly made love in the small shower, though the normally suave Gambit nearly lost his footing at one point. They laughed together at the miscue and kept on making love.
Once they were dried and dressed, they paid a visit to the rec room and then to the gym, joyously sharing their news with the rest of their family. At dinner that evening, the X-men gave a toast to the couple and their upcoming "arrival."
***************
Jean-Paul and I were talking before bedtime one evening. He and I were sitting in bed together---I was reading a book I'd brought from An'zhina and he was working on some sort of puzzle he brought with.
I yawned. "It's just about about bedtime for me," I said.
"Me too, amour," he said, copying my yawn. "You want talk before we go to bed?"
This was unusual. He didn't often initiate a talk right before we were ready to sleep. He didn't initiate a lot of "talks" period. "Sure," I replied.
"Do you ever…how can I say?" he began, awkwardly. I watched, intrigued; it was not often that Jean-Paul struggled for words. "Does it ever bother you that I take the lead more? You know, in sex? I'm the one who usually decides what we do."
I thought about it for a second or two. "I'm okay with it," I said simply. "If I really want something----or really **don't** want something---I'll say so."
"You almost never do."
I smiled and said, "That's because you almost never suggest something I don't like." What I said was true. Jean-Paul usually directed what we did in bed; he'd usually suggest or request something, and I'd comply. It didn't bother me in the least. In fact, I liked it. So I added, "I thought that you knew that I liked…when you take the lead."
"Yeah. I mean, I did know. But I just wanted to make sure you're happy with things," he said. "You would tell me if you weren't, right?"
"Yeah." I then smiled. "Wow, this therapy stuff is really working. I can't believe how well Kurt, and the Professor, have gotten you to open up and talk."
He playfully tweaked the side of my face. "I've always been open with you."
"Hmmmm….really? Have you discussed being in **denial** with Kurt ever?"
"Very funny."
We were quiet for just a bit. He shut off the light and we got under the covers. But now I wanted to talk more. "So how is it?" I asked. "Working with Nightcrawler?" Jean-Paul was still having "meetings" (that's what he called them, though they were basically therapy sessions, as I understood them) with Nightcrawler. During the few weeks we'd been in space now, he'd met with Kurt maybe four or five times, to continue the work he'd started with Xavier---on dealing with his past.
"He's good. I like him."
Drawing out Jean-Paul on this topic wasn't going to be totally simple, I saw. "How does he compare to the Professor?"
"Both are good listeners." A pause. 'I don't know. I like them both. I talk about God and religion sometimes with Kurt, but he doesn't shove it down my throat. I mean, he knows I'm Catholic already anyway."
"What did Kurt say about our little incident with Scott?" I asked.
Jean-Paul's answer was short. "I didn't tell him about it."
"Really? So….what are we going to do about it?"
"What's there to do? Scott's a judgmental asshole and that's pretty much all there is to it."
"Jean-Paul. You know we're gonna have to deal with this sooner or later. We see Scott and Jean all the time, and we can't just keep ignoring them. Not when we all live in such close quarters." Since the clash we had with them, we'd of course run into Scott (and his family) during meals and a few times in the Danger Room. None of us said much, or anything, when we were in the same room. I hadn't told anyone else of our run-in with them, either. I think some people had guessed that something happened, given our obviously frosty relations with them. But I didn't want to talk about the incident with any others, really. As stupid as Scott's comments were, I didn't want to be like bad-mouthing him. He did save Jean-Paul's life.
"Rober, my amour, I don't have an answer. I don't want to think about it either. I do recognize that I probably owe Scott my life but I still do not think that gives him the right to act as if he's so morally superior to us. Heterosexuality isn't superior to homosexuality." Jean-Paul took a breath. He'd been speaking quickly. "Just thinking about this makes me angry."
"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I didn't mean to get you riled up before bedtime. It's just that we'll have to deal with what happened sooner or later."
"I vote for **later**. Goodnight, Bobby"
****************
A full day had passed, and less than 24 hours later, it was time for Northstar's bridge duty shift. This time, he had the dreaded night shift. An alarm took him from his sleep, its blare signaling an end to the precious slumber. Northstar noted that Bobby slept right through the alarm. He smiled affectionately at Bobby's boyishly handsome face, as the Iceman lay oblivious to the attention.
Northstar then pulled himself out of the bed and reached for the uniform, which he had neatly draped over the chair the evening before. He pulled it on over his underwear, making as little noise as possible. After a quick stop in the bathroom, he then left the room and headed for the bridge.
When he reached the bridge, his system reacted with a moment's shock. The lights were off. For a split second, he feared that the bridge had been abandoned. Northstar was startled again when his eyes (now adjusted to the dark) fixed on Remy LeBeau.
Gambit was slouched in the captain's chair, wearing a tight tank top and ripped jeans. The X-men were much more casual about uniforms now; many chose to forgo uniforms in place of their own preferred clothes. And given Freedom's surplus of dilithium, temperatures on board were now much warmer---which meant that Remy could be comfortable in that clingy tank top.
None of those logical thoughts were on Northstar's mind then. He couldn't tear his eyes off the man occupying the captain's chair. The tank top Gambit wore helped to highlight his muscular arms. He sat at the helm of the ship, the picture of confident sexuality.
Gambit absentmindedly shuffled a deck of cards, his hands moving nimbly. A surreal glow from the instrument panels was cast over Remy's face. And as magnificent as the body (what Jean-Paul could see of it) was, it was Gambit's **face** that nearly took Northstar's breath away. Loose strands of hair fell in front of the face, obscuring the eyes.
The eyes. Gambit's eyes, striking in the darkness, were glowing just mildly. Those eyes---with their red and blackness---could appear demonic, but they were surrounded by the features of an angel. Northstar had always observed Remy and wondered what mystery lay behind those eyes which looked as if they belonged to a otherworldly creature. There was a glint of mischief there too, Jean-Paul noticed. And sorrow. He could only guess what sort of sadness lay buried behind there.
Remy turned in his seat and greeted Jean-Paul with a cocky grin. "Bonsoir, mon ami." He stretched as he said the words, pulling his arms back. Remy's voice was reminiscent of silk with a velvet trim. It was smooth, but the spicy Cajun accent added texture as well.
"Bonsoir," Northstar said. He paused, and added, "You have the lights off."
"It's nighttime," Gambit said simply. "Besides, dey're not needed to see the stars outside. Or the computer screen."
"Your eyes…do they make it easier for you to see in the dark?" It was something Northstar had always wondered about. He hoped that nothing in his voice would betray the near-fascination he felt about Remy's eyes.
"Lemme jus' say dat I don't need as much light as mos' people do."
Northstar still looked at the Cajun and he had to admit to himself that he'd never seen a man looking more beautiful than Remy did then. Northstar loved Bobby with all his heart; truly, he did. And Bobby was handsome, though more adorable and darling than anything else. Gambit was just downright sexy.
Looking at Gambit, Jean-Paul fleetingly remembered back to his promiscuous days. Something about Gambit brought those memories on. Something about Remy just dripped sex, and always had. Before he knew Bobby, before Philippe, Jean-Paul had been no saint. He remembered his days of casual sex, of walking into a bar, knowing he was going to find a man, knowing he was going to get some action that night. He remembered checking out the men and sensing the others eyeing him with admiration and awe. He remembered picking out a man, strutting up to him. Northstar recalled the impatience he would feel as they made small-talk, though fortunately that part never lasted long. They would chat, Jean-Paul would let the other man know that he was a top, and off they would go. Sometimes it would be quick, sometimes not. When he was really young and even more energetic, he could repeat this process several times a night. What he had now with Bobby was light-years better than that, he knew, but every now and then he missed the thrill of the hunt and capture.
"So…congratulations on the baby," Jean-Paul said. He noticed that Remy wasn't vacating his seat, and Jean-Paul had felt his cheeks grow ever-so-slightly flushed because of his steamy flashback. He was trying to get his thoughts on another track.
"Merci," Gambit replied, a slight grin on his face.
"You must be very excited, no? Another little friend for Rory, and Charlotte and Chris."
"Yes. Rogue and I are excited an' proud." Gambit's voice took on a new tone; the mention of Charlotte and Chris had triggered something in his mind. "Hey, Jean-Paul…what's up wit' you an' Cyke and Jean? I 'dought I see some coldness dere when you around dem lately."
You can't pull anything past him, Northstar knew. Gambit also, Northstar realized, had to have an idea of the effect he was having on him. Perhaps that was the reason for the saucy grin on his face. Jean-Paul remembered back to the days towards the end of their last mission----when the X-men all had to share one shower area. The clandestine glances he'd taken in Gambit's direction…..ahhh, the view of Gambit all wet and soapy. Northstar forced himself to focus. "We've had our disagreements. Cyke gets on my nerves a lot." Northstar paused. "But what can I say? I owe him."
Gambit nodded. He respected it when people didn't want to reveal every detail. He then rose from his seat. "Is now time for me to go. I got my beautiful wife to go make love to. I hope she still be awake."
Northstar bit his tongue to keep from saying, 'If she isn't, come back here.' He didn't mean it, of course. Well, only part of him did. Gambit was beyond desirable, no doubt. But Northstar wouldn't break Bobby's heart like that, nor was there any chance that Gambit would do likewise to Rogue.
Of course there's no harm in having a fantasy, Jean-Paul mused as he watched Gambit exit the bridge. He briefly considered calling Bobby. If Jean-Paul asked, Bobby would get out of bed and go to the bridge and satisfy his lover. But Jean-Paul loved him and wanted him to get his sleep, undisturbed. When he was sure he was alone, Northstar reached into his pants and pleasured himself, with thoughts of a Cajun on his mind.
****************
Election time had rolled around on An'zhina. The citizens of An'zhina were given three elected representatives. The first (and current) representatives were Erica, Yunfei, and Bailey. Their roles were limited. (Their main duties consisted of holding "town hall meetings" and soliciting feedback from the people on things about An'zhina they would change. They also worked with the Professor, Moira, and Sean on any miscellaneous issues that arose. The three had been the ones to deal with "the Todd situation" and work on a criminal code for An'zhina.) Despite the fact that the representatives had a fairly limited scope of duties, the An'zhinians said they liked having representation.
Bailey had decided to run for re-election, but Yunfei and Erica wanted to take breaks from governance. Only two others had come forward seeking to become representatives. The first was a man who had been rescued from the FOH camp in Beijing, and his name was Xu Sheng. The other was a rescuee from the X-men's last mission near New York, and his name was Patrick.
Voters, therefore, were given the chance to approve Bailey, Xu Sheng, and Patrick as their representatives or to write in anyone else.
As for the non-elected leaders---Professor X, Moira, and Banshee---each one wanted to continue providing leadership for An'zhina. They had debated a bit among themselves but had decided to allow An'zhinians the chance to remove any of them from office, if a majority of voters wanted to. ("After all, we are not a dictatorship," Banshee had said. Besides, the three all knew that the chances of a majority of voters wanting to recall any of them was slim to none.) A question was placed on the ballots, allowing voters to indicate whether or not they wished to retain Xavier, Moira, and Sean.
"Well, that was easy," the woman named Megan said, as she approached Xavier, Moira, and Banshee in a conference room the evening of the election. Megan and two others had volunteered to count the ballots. (Or, more accurately, watch a computer as it counted the ballots and do a spot check on the computer's work.) "Congratulations. They voted unanimously to retain all three of you. And there were no write-in votes, so Bailey, Patrick and Xu Sheng are in too."
"That was easy indeed. Perhaps we should have a raucous post-re-election celebration," quipped Banshee. He said it as a jest, but he **was** happy. He found that he quite enjoyed his role in ensuring the smooth running of life on An'zhina.
"Actually, I do na feel like celebratin'," Moira said. Her serious tone was a marked contrast from that of her husband's.
"Why not, love?" Banshee asked.
"I just realized that there are no women representatives. We have three males but no females. So I am the only women out of the six people responsible for governing this place."
"Moira, my darling, is that really a problem?" Sean asked tenderly, as he reached to pat her hand. "An'zhina has only 320 people. It is not as if we are deciding the fate of the universe here."
"I gotta say I agree with her," Megan, who had not left the room, spoke up. "I mean, can you imagine if we had three female reps and no male reps? I don't think the guys would be too thrilled with that."
"Were there any women interested in running for representative?" the Professor asked.
"No one at all except Xu Sheng and Patrick expressed any interest in becoming a rep," Sean said, shrugging. He turned to face Moira again. "We canna force people to get involved in government if they are na interested."
"I know that, Sean. But this still doesna sit right with me," Moira said, sadness in her voice. "For the reason that Megan said, mostly."
"It doesn't quite sit right with me either," Xavier said. He stroked his chin. "I don't think we can do anything about this election---especially if no one else wanted to run for office. But let's brainstorm for a bit. What can we do about this in the future---how can we make sure our next group of reps contains some gender mixture?"
The room was quiet for a moment or two. "Well, perhaps next time we can reserve one seat for a woman," Sean suggested. He still didn't agree fully with his wife but was willing to go along with the idea of getting more female leaders. He didn't see the lack of female representatives as a tragedy, but he wouldn't oppose working to solve this either.
"That's not a bad idea, but it does suggest tokenism," Xavier commented. "And could it be interpreted as not allowing more than one female rep?"
"I have an idea." Moira said. "Perhaps between now and the next election, we can seek out some female leaders. I can think of a few right now. We can talk to them and encourage them to run for representative."
Charles and Sean nodded their support of the idea. Moira turned to Megan. "You, for example, Megan," Moira suggested. "Why did you not run for representative this time?"
Megan shrugged. "I didn't really think about. I don't know. In America, you think of government and you think of corruption. Running for rep never occurred to----"
Megan's voice was cut off by the sound of a loud beeping. "What is that?" she asked.
"It's Queen Marina," Xavier replied. "This is the sound of her priority line." The Queen had told the X-men that she would use this line only when she urgently needed to reach them. The Professor punched a few buttons on a console, and a video screen flickered to life with the image of the Queen looking back at them.
She did not look happy.
"Xavier, our long-range sensors have detected a fleet of eight FOH starships on course straight for An'zhina," Marina began. As always, she never sounded panicked or rushed. But her voice conveyed a grave concern, with a seasoning of anger.
"Eight starships?" Xavier repeated. He did a brief mental scan. Apparently they were not yet in telepathic range, because he could not sense them. The X-men, he knew, were also out of telepathic range now.
"They have their shields up and all of their weapons powered up. They mean to avenge the deaths of those that Psylocke and Marrow killed. They plan to attack An'zhina!"
"Queen Marina….you have faced FOH starships before," the Professor began, struggling for the right words. He wanted to ensure that he sounded confident, soothing, and supportive, and not condescending. "When you first rescued us from an FOH ship years ago, you were able to propel the ship outside of FOH territory. Whatever your source of power is, it is far beyond anything on earth."
"I know that, Xavier," Marina replied. Charles speculated that perhaps he had failed in his attempt to sound non-condescending. "But that was with one vessel---not **eight**. And secondly, that is not the biggest issue here. My people are panicking over this."
"Is there anything I—or anyone else on An'zhina---can do to assist you?"
"Not now. We must first try to turn away these ships. The long-term impacts on Endaria---of a fleet of earth starships launching an attack on us---will be dealt with once we have resolved this crisis."
"If you need the assistance of my telepathic powers----" the Professor began, but the screen went blank. Marina had "hung up" on him.
"Now what?" Megan asked, looking from the face of the Professor, to Banshee, to Moira. "Are we in danger now? Can we do anything?"
"Stay calm, Megan," Moira said softly. "I dona think there is anything that we can do."
"I believe that we will be alright," Xavier said. "Unless FOH has developed some amazing new technologies in a very short amount of time, Marina should easily have the power to defeat them. When we X-men first came to Endaria, we were almost overtaken by an FOH vessel called the Protector. Marina came to our aid and, in a matter of seconds, she did something that propelled the Protector across the galaxy. She said that she sent it back to earth. We never heard from it again." He paused for emphasis. "With that kind of technology at their fingertips, I can't see that the Endarians are in any real danger."
"But can we be sure?" Banshee asked. "Marina said that there are now **eight** starships heading this way."
"I would still imagine that she can deal with them."
"She did sound concerned about them," Moira began, "but she sounded far more concerned with the reactions of her people."
"I think," Charles began, "in the long-run that the reactions of the Endarians might prove more dangerous to us than the FOH fleet."
****************
That evening turned into a late night session, as An'zhina's leadership found it to difficult to simply go off to sleep. The three X-men leaders were joined by the An'zhinian reps (including both the existing reps and the newly elected but yet-to-be-sworn-in reps). They sat near the video screen and drank coffee as they waited for any word from Marina.
Xavier told the others when he was able to sense the FOH fleet telepathically. To no one's surprise, he sensed that they wanted revenge for the destruction of the three starships that the Pirates totaled. They attributed that to, of course, the X-men. FOH had some knowledge that the X-men were being sheltered by an advanced civilization, and FOH wanted a piece of them as well. Their main goal, though, was to get at the X-men.
The X-men leadership decided not to share this information with the citizens of An'zhina, at this time. It had the potential to cause widespread panic. If Xavier was right and they didn't have anything to worry about now, there was no logical reason to inform the others. If the situation changed, then they would—of course---make the An'zhinians aware of what was happening.
"I wish we had some way to warn the X-men on Freedom," Banshee murmured.
"They should be alright," the Professor said. "Their vessel is cloaked. The course they set, towards that planet, should take them far away from An'zhina, so I doubt that they are in the way of the FOH fleet. And Jean will be able to sense it if the FOH ships are, somehow, near their position in space."
"But the cloaking device should protect them," Bailey said. "Right?"
"That is correct," the Professor answered, even though he had just stated words to that effect. "Unless, somehow, FOH have developed the means to detect a cloaked ship. They did it once before," Xavier added. "But let's not worry needlessly. I'm confident that the X-men will be fine, between their cloaking device and Jean's telepathic powers."
"I'm more worried about us," Yunfei said. "What if they get through the Endarian's defenses? What if Marina kicks us out?"
It was a tense several hours for the X-men, especially for Xavier. He was faced with the task of consoling and reassuring the others while hoping for the best himself. `I must also,' he told himself, 'prepare for the worst in cast things do not turn out as we wish.'
****************
The following day, Queen Marina contacted Professor Xavier.
"Our defense technology was adequate," she began. "We were able to repel all eight ships in the fleet back towards earth." Marina sounded tired, but calm and steady as she usually was, too.
"Were any Endarians harmed during this?" Xavier asked.
"No."
"What about the crews of the FOH ships? Would they have been harmed in the process?"
"Unlikely. The starships almost certainly suffered hull and engine damage, but the crews of the ships were very unlikely to have incurred any harm."
"So is it safe to say that the immediate danger is passed?" the Professor asked.
"It is, indeed, safe to say that, Charles. The Friends of Humanity presented us with no new weapons or technology. Should they send more vessels this way, our defense should be able to again repel them successfully."
The Professor nodded. He was able to sense, too, that Marina was not at all surprised about this outcome. She had known that the chances of her defense systems failing were slim. Charles had known that too.
Charles also knew, though, what the Queen knew---her biggest challenge lay ahead. "I am meeting with my Executive Council later today. They have called an emergency session."
Charles nodded. "What do you expect might occur at this meeting?"
"The Council will discuss this unprecedented attack on Endaria. There are several possible proposals and outcomes." Marina listed the possible conclusions calmly. "They might do nothing for now until FOH sends more ships. Or they might begin steps to remove me from power, or they might ask me to step down from my position. They might convince me that, in order to remain in power, I must remove the earthlings from An'zhina. All of these options are at least conceivable."
Xavier nodded, hoping that his nervousness regarding the situation was not transparent. "Which scenario do you think is the most likely?"
Marina took a breath. "It is unlikely that they will simply do nothing. The Council has brought this matter up before and had been angered before by the mere **presence** of FOH starships in our space. One of which, I might add, was blown up by one of your own members," she said, referencing the time that Psylocke –an X-man at the time---had acted against orders. "Now that an entire fleet of eight starships attempted to attack our world, it is another matter entirely. Besides, the Endarian people themselves are worried. We must respond to the needs of our people."
"Do you think that the Council will attempt to remove you from power?"
"I think that they would not attempt to do so at this time. That is quite a drastic response and quite unprecedented. Of course," she added, "so is the FOH attempted attack. So it is not completely out of the realm of possibility either."
The Queen did not tell Xavier about another reason as to why she felt her position as ruler remained relatively safe --- for now, at least. Her successor, her younger brother Tavrock, was not popular with the Endarian people. He did not have any supporters who wanted to see him on the Endarian throne.
Marina did have a son who was seven years old, and he was the heir apparent. His name was Kotarin. However, the constitution dictated that should Marina leave the throne before her child reached the age of 20, the throne would pass to the next in line (assuming that the person next in line was old enough). So Tavrok was the next in line until Kotarin turned 20.
Marina's only sibling had no desire for either work or leadership. As the Endarian people knew, Tavrok preferred to spend his days enjoying the finer things in life---beautiful women, food, drink, music, and unlimited leisure. If Marina were to resign her position or be removed from power, the constitution required that Tavrok be named Endaria's next regent.
The Executive Council wouldn't completely mind if Tavrok were to become Endaria's next ruler though----given what they knew of him and his approach to work, it was likely that the Council's power would increase. Tavrok would almost certainly take a hands-off approach and allow the Council to run the show. However, Tavrok was not popular with the Endarian people, and the people's opinions carried enormous weight. If he wanted to, Tavrok could refuse the throne. It would be a shocking and unprecedented refusal, but it was a possibility. The throne of Endaria would then pass to Tavrok's and Marina's Aunt, Deleina. Deleina was a commonsense, pragmatic leader who was well-regarded by the Endarian people. She was also a xenophobe who made no bones about wanting the X-men gone from Endarian space.
Enough of this speculation, Marina told herself. I am holding onto this throne whether I have to fight tooth and nail for it. And neither my idiot brother nor my Aunt will succeed me. I will be succeeded only by a child of mine.
Marina looked down towards her midsection and reflexively placed a protective had over it. She loved her son Kotarin, of course. But she had to admit that she truly hoped she would instead be someday succeeded by child she carried now, the one sired by Scott Summers.
"Please keep me posted," Xavier said, oblivious to the thoughts swirling around Marina's mind. "Let me know what happens at the Council meeting."
"Of course," Marina replied.
**************
We reached the planet. We were in orbit with it, cloaked of course. Cyclops called a meeting for all of us X-men.
"I believe that the first order of business is for us to run scans of the surface," he said. "We need to attempt to locate the shuttle. Our sensors were weakened last time because we were operating on a shoestring of dilithium. Now that we have more, we can use our maximum sensor array and hope that it can locate the shuttle."
"What will the course of action be should we find ourselves unable to locate the shuttle using sensors?" Hank asked. "Would we then beam down a search party?"
"That is an option. But I would hope we can avoid that."
"Last time we were down there, we had that run-in with that powerful sorcerer guy," Rogue said.
"Dagron," Jean added, supplying the name.
"That experience with him was freakin' weird. I ain't one to shy away from a conflict, but I hope we can avoid dealin' with him."
"I agree," Cyclops said. "So let's see what our sensors can do, first. For all we know, our paths won't cross with him at all. This planet has a few million people on it. He might be totally out of the picture."
"If the shuttle's been dismantled, we probably ain't gonna be able to find it," Wolverine said.
I looked over at him. It was interesting hearing his actual voice. Usually the only time I heard it—or saw him---was during karate lessons. I'd been even a little surprised when I saw him show up for this meeting, but I guess since he was a field commander, he had no choice.
"That's a good point," Cyclops said. He then added, "But this culture---from what we can tell---is not technologically advanced. So we might still be able to pick up readings on some of the shuttle parts."
So that was it for the meeting. We waited as Freedom approached this planet. I wondered what we would find.
*****************
Not long after that meeting, I found myself called into another one. I sat with the rest of Freedom's crew around a table. Everyone was present, except for Cannonball, who had been called to bridge duty.
"We have a problem," Cyclops stated. I saw him exchange a few looks with Hank, Rogue, and Wolverine. "Our sensors **are** able to pick up on an area where we detect our shuttle."
"That's supposed to be good," Jubilee said. "Right?"
"The problem is that we've also detected indications of technology that mirror the technology of the shuttle."
"It is as if there is now more than one such shuttle on the planet's surface," Hank explained.
"I thought that they did not have that kind of technology," Nightcrawler said.
"They didn't. None of the scans we ran earlier indicated that this planet had any sort of warp capability. At all."
"So dey got deir hands on our shuttle and started copyin' it?" Gambit asked.
"That might indeed be the case," Hank answered. "That is the most likely conclusion we can reach, given the information we have now. If that is the case, it is most unfortunate."
"So what do we do?" Jeanne-Marie asked.
Cyclops again looked at Rogue, Hank, and Wolverine. I don't know if maybe I was reading too much into it, but he seemed a bit unsure. In the past, I don't recall too many times when he'd hesitate with any leadership decisions or anything like that. In the old **old** days, he'd give orders and we'd follow. (Except for me, at times like when I was being obnoxious and trying to rebel.) But he did look unsure today.
I tried to look at him with compassion. I mean, Jean-Paul disliked him quite a bit and I sure wasn't thrilled with the comments he'd made in the rec room that time. But, as I reminded myself every day, Cyclops did save Jean-Paul's life—and he did so at the cost of a tremendous sacrifice to himself and his family. And ever since then, he had looked unsure of himself at times. I really tried to see things from his perspective, as much as I disliked Scott at times.
"I think we need to send an away team to the planet's surface," Cyclops said.
"That is quite risky," Jean-Paul said. "Last time we did that, remember what happened? That Dagron man put Rogue and Gambit under a sp---" He stopped in mid-sentence and looked towards the couple. "What exactly **did** he do?"
"We don't really know, sugar," Rogue said. "Maybe we **were** under some kinda spell. It was real weird."
"At the very least, I think it's safe to say he has some sort of telepathic powers," Jean said. "Perhaps I should be on this away mission."
Jeanne-Marie spoke. I turned towards her and she was looking a bit worried. "Wait a minute. Are we sure we want to do this? Why are we even considering a trip to the planet's surface? I mean, for one thing----we're doing a lot of speculating here. We do not know that they've taken our shuttle and found a way to copy it. And if they have, it truly is unfortunate if we've messed things up on their planet. But does it really matter to us?"
"And we must consider the possibility that beaming down might cause perhaps even more harm," Nightcrawler stated.
Jubilee nodded. "If they did find a way to build more shuttles, I don't see how we can stop it without doing more interference."
Jeanne-Marie piped up again, nearly before Jubilee was done speaking. "And we shouldn't put ourselves in more danger."
I turned towards Cyclops and saw him taking a breath. He seemed to be collecting his thoughts. "I hear what you're saying," he said. "I believe that we need to, at the very least, see what we've done. We need to get down there and take a look. Maybe there will be some way we can reverse whatever it is we might've caused."
"I agree," Wolverine said, crossing his arms over his chest. He sat with Cyke and the other field commanders. I scanned them and guessed that they were all in accord with each other. Maybe that was why it had taken them so long to call the team together again----their scans of the planet couldn't have taken so long. Maybe they had debated and discussed it among the four of them and had agreed upon a decision.
They still had to convince the rest of us though.
Wolverine continued, "We gotta get down there and see what's goin' on. It doesn't haveta be a long mission."
"But we gotta at least see what's goin on," Rogue added. "Maybe we can't fix anythin', but we gotta look. And if we git trouble, we can beam back up."
"There still exists the possibility that our scans are incorrect," Hank added. "The technology required to build a shuttle craft is quite advanced. Many of you remember when we were stranded on the Paradise Planet and had to repair our engines. It took a team of four people seven months to repair the engines, and we possessed advanced knowledge and skills. This culture has given no indication of any level of advanced technology. Perhaps were are receiving a false reading, or are reading too much into what the data indicated. Maybe they are not developing warp-capable vessels of their own." He paused, "But irregardless of that, I believe also that the best course of action is to beam down and investigate."
Jean Grey then added, "I agree with what Hank said. Look, we chose to beam down there and **take** dilithium from them. It was a desperate act….and we truly were desperate." She paused briefly. "But if I could look back and try to be as objective as possible…what we did was not – not a fair thing, for lack of a better term. What we did wasn't quite fair to the people of the planet. The very least we can do is get down there and observe what harm we might have caused. Who knows---maybe we can easily reverse it."
The room was quiet for a few quick moments. Then Jeanne-Marie crossed her arms over her chest and said, "I still don't see why we care. How much harm could we have possibly have done to the people on that planet? We took a resource that they are not using, we came into contact with only one person, and we left right away. I thought our number one priority was to get back to earth and help the mutants there. Our people on earth are being tortured and they are dying." Her voice had been rising steadily. It looked like she forced herself to take a breath and calm down. "This seems like such a detour. It seems almost pointless."
Again, there was silence for a moment or two. People seemed to be mulling it over. Nightcrawler then spoke up, "I am trying to view this from both angles, and trying to see what truly might be the moral thing to do. And although I believe that there is the chance that we could do even more harm to the people ---and the natural destiny---of this planet if we beam down, I must agree with what Jean said. Let us at least take a look. We can be as unobtrusive as possible."
"What does everyone else think?" Cyclops asked.
We went around the room giving our opinions, one by one. I can't say why, but I had gotten the idea that maybe more than one person had silently agreed with Jeanne-Marie. Or maybe **I** partly felt that way. Part of me really agreed with her. But I don't know if it was "group think" or what, but the first few people who responded said that they agreed with the idea of beaming down. Then everyone said they agreed --- everyone except Jeanne-Marie. She shot her brother a dirty look when he went with the majority, and I sensed there would be a tempestuous argument between the twins later on. It was an argument that I didn't care to be part of.
"Since we have agreement," Cyclops was saying, "we next need to select our away-team. I think a minimal team would be best. Three X-men---or four, maximum."
"I volunteer," Nightcrawler said. "I think my teleporting will be useful again. The distance to the surface is too far for me to teleport, but we can do as we did last time." What we did last time was for those of us on the away team to get inside a shuttle, get close enough for Kurt to teleport, and then be teleported---shuttle and all---down. "Except, this time perhaps I can teleport only us---and not the shuttle. Last time, we needed to bring up stores of dilithium, but this time we do not need to, so we should not need a shuttle."
"That makes sense," Cyclops said, just as Wolverine almost simultaneously volunteered for the mission. "I'll go," Wolverine said. Cyclops nodded at Wolverine's brief words.
"I would like to go as well," Jean said. "I think my telepathy might be necessary. It will be helpful if I can scan for other minds. And if, for some reason, we do encounter that Dagron guy, maybe I can get inside his head and figure out what's going on."
"It did appear as though Dagron had some sort of telepathic powers," Hank said. "A telepath could be a powerful asset for us on this mission."
Cyclops didn't look all that thrilled at the idea of Jean going, but he also looked like he could deal with it. I think he couldn't argue with the logic of her going; it just made too much sense. I bet he struggled all the time to separate his feelings for her from doing what might be best for the team. I didn't envy him that. Anyway, Cyclops nodded in Jean's direction; apparently, he acquiesced to her being on the away team.
"I'll go too," Rogue said. "If we run into any trouble, you bet I can handle it. I'm a one-woman army," she added, with a bit of bravado, I thought.
"You sure dat beamin' down is a good idea for you, Rogue?" Gambit asked quietly. His voice was low but very….serious. There was an undercurrent to it; Gambit had the ability to make a few words "say" a lot. And my ears perked up when I realized that I couldn't remember him addressing her as "Rogue" too often. Seems every time I'd heard him address her, he called her "chere."
Rogue looked at him. She didn't look pleased. "Of course it's a good idea," she said, sounding a tad defensive.
"You got someone else to consider 'dough."
"Remy, I'm **pregnant**. I'm not immobile. I can handle this." There was an edge to Rogue's voice, one that she wasn't trying to squelch, at least as far as I could tell.
"I never said dat you were immobile, chere. But do you really gotta go on dis mission? Maybe you oughtta take it easy till the baby's born."
"Take it easy? What am I supposed to do, lay on the bed for the next eight months?? I'm **invulnerable**, Remy! I can go on this mission."
"I'd prefer dat you didn't, chere."
"You're bein' real unreasonable."
"An' you're takin' risks dat you don't need to."
Like many other people in that room, I suspect, I started to fervently wish that I was elsewhere. Watching Rogue and Gambit argue was not pleasant. I snuck a look at Cyclops. He looked as if he didn't know quite what to do.
"An' you're bein' way too overprotective," Rogue said. As far as I could tell, she and Gambit acted oblivious to the presence of the rest of us.
Wolverine then spoke. Firmly. "Gambit, back off. If she wants to go on this mission, she's the one to decide it. Besides, she's right. She can handle trouble better than most of us. She's one of the best fighters we got."
"Dis ain't any of your concern, mon ami," Gambit said, apparently directed towards Wolverine but he continued to look at Rogue. Rogue broke off eye contact with her husband, and looked at Wolverine and Cyclops. She spoke as if Gambit had not made his comment. "So that's it, then. Me, Nightcrawler, Jean, and Wolverine," Rogue said decisively.
The decision was made, and the shuttle bay was re-pressurized in preparation for the mission.
*************
Rogue walked swiftly towards the shuttle bay. Wolverine, Jean, and Nightcrawler followed behind her. They then stood outside the door of the shuttle bay, waiting as it continued to re-pressurize.
What is his deal?? Rogue asked herself. Is he gonna be that way for the next eight months? Is he gonna be like that **forever**?? I don't wanna be treated like your Grandma's heirloom vase. I thought he **liked** me bein' such a tough-ass. Her mind chilled at the thought of things changing in her relationship with her husband. She liked things the way they were.
Rogue then mentally stopped herself and halted the train that her mind was taking. Gotta put this stuff outta my mind --- till after the mission. She'd learned that mental discipline both from her training as an X-man, as well as from the training she'd done earlier in Mystique's group. Whatever personal problems the X-men had, the mission always came first, She knew she had to focus on her duty, and forced herself to do so.
Soon, the shuttle bay was ready for the X-men to enter. They silently boarded it.
"We're goin' down," Wolverine said, over the communicator, to the X-men on the bridge. He expertly guided the shuttle from the bay and away from Freedom.
The four X-men plunged into space. Jean sat in one of the passenger seats, strapped in. She tilted her head to look out a window. The vastness of space surrounded them, a flurry of blackness punctuated with glistening stars. The shuttle seemed so small now; it seemed to be swimming in this endlessness. Jean felt a pang of sorrow. She had not kissed her children goodbye.
There was no need to, she told herself. We'll be back on the ship soon. It doesn't make sense to worry them needlessly. Especially Charlotte.
"How're you doing?" Cyclops's voice came over the communicator.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jean saw Wolverine make a face. He promptly replaced it with his usual look.
"No change in our status," Nightcrawler said into the communicator. "I will let you know when I think we are close enough to teleport down."
"We're pickin' up some more detailed readin's from the planet surface," Rogue said, looking at her monitor. "Looks like there's a forested area not too far from the shuttle readin's. Think you can teleport us down there?"
"Yeah, we wanna avoid teleportin' down in front of any people," Wolverine added.
"I will do the best I can to get us in the forest," Kurt said.
After just a few more minutes, Nightcrawler pressed a some buttons and the shuttle ceased its descent towards the surface, holding its position in space. The four X-men stood up. Wolverine, Rogue, and Jean all made physical contact with Nightcrawler.
"Ready? Here we go," Kurt said, moments before teleporting to the surface.
The four X-men resurfaced in a thickly wooded area. Cyclops again spoke over the communicator, this time his voice just a few levels above a whisper.
"Your status, team?"
"We made it," Rogue said, returning his quiet tone. "We're in the forest."
"Any sign of the shuttle? Or shuttles?"
"No," Jean said. "We'll let you know as soon as we have something to report. Scott, I might contact you telepathically in case we end up in a position where there might be people around to overhear."
"Good enough. Do you think anyone saw you teleport in?"
Wolverine had been sniffing the air. "No," he said. "No people 'round here. A lot of animals though."
"My tricorder's pickin' up some readings," Rogue said. "I think we can tell which way the shuttle is."
With that, the away team temporarily ceased communication with Freedom, and headed off in the direction of the tricorder readings. Despite Wolverine's assurance that no other people were in the vicinity, they still employed caution as they stealthily moved towards the possible shuttle readings. The team desperately wanted to avoid further interference, and contact with any of the humanoids on the surface would not do them any good.
They continued walking. Wolverine enjoyed, as he had the first time he'd spent on the planet's surface, the experience his senses were having. New scents drifted through the air. Sounds of unfamiliar birds could be heard in the distance. His perceptive vision allowed him to detect shadowy lines of animals lurking nearby, afraid to get nearer to the four strangers. His longing for adventure and freedom also meant that he didn't mind the uncertainty that might lay ahead for the X-men on this mission.
He sniffed the air again. "We're gettin' close," he said. "I smell people."
"I can sense them too," Jean added. "I can sense quite a few minds----dozens, in fact."
"Up this way," Wolverine said, pointing.
"The trees seem to be thinning ahead too," Rogue whispered.
"I think we're near the end of the forest," Nightcrawler added.
After briefly (and very quietly) updating Cyclops, the X-men continued on with the utmost caution. The forestry indeed started to grow more sparse. Sounds could be heard in the distance.
"Let's hang back here," Wolverine said.
Rogue looked at Wolverine and nodded, as she realized that they had never specified who was in charge of this away mission----her or Wolverine. They were both field commanders, considered equal in ranking in the X-men's loosely-applied hierarchy. It was not as if Rogue had an inflated ego or wanted to throw her weight around, but she partly wished for more clarity on the question of who was leading this mission. Should a crisis situation somehow arise, who would be giving the orders?
Rogue's ears perked up. She thought she heard someone whisper, but looking around at her three colleagues, she saw that no one had spoken. She felt as if she heard **something** scurrying around the vicinity of her mind, but she brushed the notion away. Besides, over the years she still heard occasional remnants of those who she had absorbed at one time or another. Unexplainable whispers weren't something new for her. Rogue shook her head and focussed her attention on the scene before them.
While hiding behind the cover of the trees, the X-men attempted to apprise the situation before them. A large man-made structure loomed ahead. It looked something akin to a castle, but unlike any castle on earth. It did have large, round towers and appeared to be made of stone, but the architecture on the building was clearly….foreign. Or even alien. The architecture sloped at odd angles, in an unpredictable pattern. The color of the stone-like surface was unlike anything normally seen on earth. It shimmered in iridescent shades of gold and deep red. It seemed to be surrounded by some sort of clouds or mists, although if the X-men were to look above, they would see no clouds in the sky.
"I'm giving Scott---and the others---a telepathic update," Jean whispered.
The front of the castle-like structure, however, provided the most interest to the X-men. Several people milled about in front of the edifice. They were doing some sort of manual labor. They appeared to be working diligently and possibly appeared to be constructing something.
"Can you see what they're workin' on?" Rogue whispered to Wolverine. The X-men were a bit too far way from the action to have a good look, but she knew Wolverine had the best eyesight.
Rogue again felt as if she'd experienced a fleeting mental caress, as if someone were speaking into her mind but she could not understand the words. Fleetingly she wondered whether Jean could've accidentally been sending any communications her way. She braced herself when she heard it again, this time more insistent.
"Uh-huh. I can smell it too. They're tryin' to make more shuttles." Wolverine's nose picked up on the various metals used to construct the hull.
Jean took a deep breath as she digested that information. "Just what we feared," she breathed. The X-men didn't have all the facts now, obviously, but from what they could see it appeared as though someone (or someones) with some degree of wealth and power (as evidenced by the castle) had a group of people working on attempting to copy the shuttle. How long before this group of people would be careening through space? The weight of the possible ramifications of the X-men's action pressed against her heart.
As Jean spoke, Rogue silently began to remove her gloves. Despite having gained mastery of her powers, she wore the gloves out of habit whenever she appeared in uniform. She subtly discarded them both.
Out of the corner of his eye, Nightcrawler saw Rogue's removal of the gloves. And then he saw something that shocked him. Rogue was getting ready to attack.
Rogue leapt towards Jean.
Quick as a wink, Nightcrawler stepped in front of Jean. She punched him. The force of Rogue's herculean strength knocked him over. Her bare fist had made contact with his face, and Rogue absorbed Nightcrawler's powers.
"What the fuck's goin' on?" Wolverine bellowed. Nightcrawler stayed down; Rogue's attack temporarily disabled him.
"It's Dagron!" Jean shouted, stunned. "He's got control of Rogue's mind!" A quick mental scan of Rogue revealed that a powerful foreign mind, the one whom the X-men had encountered before, was now in charge of Rogue. Jean then set about the task of countering Dagron's presence inside Rogue.
Wolverine lunged towards Rogue, in an attempt to restrain her, but Rogue used the teleportation power that she had absorbed from Nightcrawler and she disappeared.
"Where is she?" Jean asked.
"What's going on??" Cyclops's voice was heard over the communicator.
Jean opened her mouth to reply to her husband, but thought better of it. She had to focus her efforts on getting inside Rogue's head, and she knew Rogue couldn't be far. But Jean wasn't able to make any progress. Within a split second's time, Rogue reappeared behind Jean. She struck a blow to the back of Jean's head, and Jean fell to the ground.
"Jeanie!" Wolverine shouted. In the distance, he heard the sounds of people approaching. But he had no time for dealing with that---he had to tend to Jean, which first meant getting Rogue to stop her rampage.
"Get over here!" he yelled at her. Rogue turned as if to square off against Wolverine, but then teleported away.
She re-materialized behind him, in a perfect position to strike a blow against him. Wolverine spent a second or two recovering from the hit, before he unsheathed his claws. "Don't make me use these on you!"
"Should we send another shuttle down?" Cyclops's voice was heard over someone's communicator. Other X-men's voices, confused and slightly panicked, could be heard in the background, but neither Rogue nor Wolverine was listening.
Dagron and several men appeared on the scene of the fight. His men promptly scooped up the unconscious Jean Grey. "Should we take the blue one too?" one of them asked.
"Just the telepath for now," replied Dagron, a vision in regal dark blue robes. He spoke with a most commanding voice. "She's the one I need."
Wolverine saw this attempted capture out of the corner of his eye. "Get away from her!" he hissed, turning from his aborted counter-attack on Rogue. He started to attack the men, but Rogue pounced on him.
Rogue seemed as if out for blood. Faced with having to fend off Rogue's assault, Wolverine was unable to prevent Dagron and his forces from abducting Jean. They hastily retreated back towards the castle, as Wolverine and Rogue continued their scuffle. "Sir, I think we should return for the others," one of the men could be heard saying.
Meanwhile, Kurt was slowly regaining consciousness and rubbing his head. Rogue's power was undeniable. She was an incredible force of nature. The dazed monk tried to make sense of what had occurred and what he saw occurring in front of him.
Rogue versus Wolverine presented quite a spectacle. Her nearly-invincible strength and absorption power against his healing factor and claws. His claws were popped out and poised to attack. Rogue managed to dodge his every move, occasionally using teleportation. When the two came to blows, it was a frightening sight. Nightcrawler didn't know if Wolverine's adamantium would be able to cut Rogue, but she appeared afraid of the claws. Wolverine was also possibly a more-skilled fighter, but she undeniably had him on strength. Kurt saw that Rogue was, so far, managing to evade those claws and strike several blows against Logan. His healing factor seemed to be keeping up with the damage.
Nightcrawler did not want to lay around and analyze the fight, however. Through a haze, he saw in the distance more men approaching them. He noted that Jean was gone, and wondered if her captors were returning. Returning for more X-men, possibly.
He struggled to his feet. Grasping a tree to assist him, Kurt managed to stand. His head was spinning and he saw stars, but he was managing. Wolverine and Rogue were so engrossed in their battle, it did not appear that they noticed the approach of Dagron's men. Nightcrawler didn't know what was wrong with Rogue's mind but he knew that they needed to regroup. They had to get out of here before Dagron returned.
Kurt mustered his meager strength to teleport away, and he reappeared a mere second later. Rogue had tackled Wolverine to the ground and was using her massive strength to hold his wrists (and, therefore, his claws) away. Nightcrawler made physical contact with both of them and, with them, teleported back to the shuttle.
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TO BE CONTINUED
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