THE HEAVENS OPEN
By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)
A note from the author: I heard your feedback loud and clear. I promise more love scenes! I don't have any (long) ones this time since this chapter was already written, but I promise more in the future.
Second note from the author: Don't miss the quiz at the end of this chapter!
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
******************
We continued on towards earth. I wondered what we'd find when we reached this troubled planet. Would we come across any more interference from traitor mutants like Emma Frost? Would Jean be able to successfully use her telepathy to change the minds of those who ruled earth? Could we make a difference or would it end up being another drop-in-the-bucket mission? Worse yet, would we have another disaster mission? We'd had more than our share of those, as I knew only too well having suffered greatly during our two worst ones.
Even as these lofty questions rushed through my mind, I knew most everyone on board the ship eagerly awaited our return to earth as well. It had been a long time since we'd been near our home planet. As messed up as it was, I think all of us gravitated there to an extent. We might be in exile, but it was still our place of origin. I guess I can't really use the term "home" though.
Family reasons were a big part of why we looked forward to getting back to earth, I think. Cannonball spoke of his parents and sister all the time; he obviously couldn't wait for Freedom to enter telepathic range, so that Jean could touch their minds. He even spoke about the possibility of bringing them to An'zhina (as Jean herself had done with her family.) Cyclops and Jean assured Sam that if the opportunity presented itself (and if, obviously, the Guthries wanted it), they would be glad to drop Freedom's shields for a few seconds so that Sam's family could be beamed aboard.
Jeanne-Marie was becoming more and more anxious as we approached earth. She spoke about her son Stephan. These last few weeks had been the only time I'd heard her speak of her son in a very long while. I knew she thought of him all the time though. I asked Jean-Paul for his thoughts on the matter, and he said he knew his sister was both looking forward to and dreading getting in touch with Stephan again. (Even though the only contact Jeanne-Marie expected they would have would involve Jean Grey doing a telepathic check-in.)
"She talks about Stephan a lot with me. And it's not going to be good when they make contact, mon amour," Jean-Paul told me. "All that we know is that FOH took him. They probably either are raising him in one of their youth camps or maybe with an FOH member's family."
"Or it could be worse," I began glumly. "They might have decided to kill him. Even though he's not a mutant, his mother is."
"There is that possibility too," he admitted. "But whatever they did with him, when he left, he didn't love Jeanne-Marie. He hated her. I am certain that has not changed."
"Is she….is she expecting that?" I asked gingerly. "I mean, she's not like expecting that all of a sudden he's going to have had a change of heart, is she?"
"No, no, I do not think so. When I last asked her about it, she said that she would be happy if he was alive and well. It's all she can hope for. She knows that."
But still, Jeanne-Marie seemed more anxious and out of it than usual. She'd been through a lot in her life, but she seemed more off-kilter than I'd seen her in a while. One day when I relieved her from her bridge duty shift, she was actually napping in the captain's chair! (I guess I should've said something to someone about that. But I didn't. She and Jean-Paul would rage at me if I'd told Cyclops. I gently started to bring it up with Jeanne-Marie herself but she clearly didn't wish to discuss it. What can I say? I tend to play computer games and/or zone out on my bridge shifts. Staring at a monitor for hour after hour will do that to you.)
One day I approached her and mentioned that it looked like she wasn't in the best of spirits, and asked if I could do anything to help. She politely thanked me but declined my offer. I related the incident to Jean-Paul and he wasn't surprised. "You just have to accept her when she's in one of these moods," he would say. "If she wants to talk about it, she will bang on my door at 2 a.m. and we will talk then. That's the way her mind works." Jean-Paul said those words but in all the time that he and I had shared a room (which had been a while now) I sure didn't recall any late night/early morning visits from Jeanne-Marie. Of course who knew what went on while I slept?
There's one interesting thing I should mention. One day I was on bridge duty as Cyclops, Rogue, and Wolverine studied star maps. They were like checking our position in space. I was only vaguely listening to them, but I did hear Rogue say, "Ain't that where the Paradise Planet is?"
Cyclops confirmed it. En route back to earth, we'd be passing through the solar system of the Paradise Planet. There was talk at the gym and at the dinner table of stopping down at that wonderful planet again, but no one seriously brought it up to Cyclops. In truth, as much as I'd love another vacation there, it would be too indulgent for us to stop and vacation again when we had work to do on earth. Besides, there were those like Hank who were eager for this mission to end and not about to willingly waste a week.
Those who discussed the idea of taking a break on the Paradise Planet talked about the possibility of bringing it to the team on our way back from the mission, depending on how the mission went.
**************
The X-men were approaching an asteroid field. Shaman, on duty that evening, discovered this fact late into his shift and alerted Cyclops. The two discussed the situation and calculated the trajectory of the asteroids. They determined that Freedom was in no danger; a simple course correction would ensure they had no contact with the asteroids. Given that Freedom's path would avoid the asteroids, Cyclops and Shaman determined that there was no need to put the shields up.
After Cyclops left the bridge, Shaman brushed up on his knowledge of asteroids. He learned that they were made out of rock and metal and theorized to be either material that never formed a planet or the remains of an exploded planet. Both theories might be correct, he read. Various forces could cause asteroids to move out of their orbit, and some asteroids move very rapidly. This asteroid field seemed to traverse space quickly.
Shaman allowed himself a satisfying, deep yawn. He was glad that his shift would be finished in less than a half hour now and he could soon get some sleep. It was Beast's turn for the dreaded night shift this time.
*************
Hank McCoy labored over his computer in sick bay. With Rogue having recovered, he had no truly urgent matters to research, but he behaved as if he did. His current projects consisted of continuing research into cloaking devices (one never knew when FOH would again develop a means to detect their cloak), AIDS research (Hank hated leaving anything undone), further research into the Euphoria Vapor, and anything else to keep his mind occupied.
He rose from his chair to retrieve a device, and he noted that his trousers were somewhat loose. Dimly he was aware that he hadn't exactly been visiting the mess hall three times per day during this mission. If he made it there twice a day, it was a rarity now. He paused for a moment and realized that he did, indeed, detect some pangs of hunger.
Hank's last several sessions in the Danger Room had been less than stunning. He had not slept for more than 35 hours. Laying in bed wide awake was unpleasant; if one were unable to sleep, better to at least be productive in the lab.
His communicator beeped. "This is Beast," he responded.
"It's Shaman."
"Oh my stars! I was supposed to relieve your bridge duty shift, was I not?" Hank checked his timepiece. He was fifteen minutes late.
He hurried to the bridge and apologized profusely. Shaman briefed him on the asteroid situation. Shaman exited the bridge and Hank sat at the captain's chair.
Hank had brought some of his work with him and cued it up on the computer in front of him. His research had gone off on a tangent and he had been studying stomach illnesses for the last several hours. He smiled absentmindedly at a related memory. One evening, a while before Panda had gotten pregnant, she and Hank had been enjoying a lackadaisical evening together. She was sitting on a chair and he had been kneeling before her. He had gotten the idea to put an ear to her abdomen and listen to the sounds of her body digesting dinner. Panda smiled and shook her head as Hank listened with rapt attention. They started getting silly, and he began to use his voice to imitate the sounds emanating from her digestive system. He vocalized the whoosh-ing and the gurgling noises he heard. He remembered Panda collapsing onto the floor with him as they laughed uncontrollably together.
He stared at the viewscreen though his eyes were not focussed. The endless array of white stars against the vast blackness were repetitive and relentless. One could easily drown in it. He used to track the ship's position and proximity to various stars and planets but doing so had not interested him on this mission. Hank began to contemplate the magnitude of his separation from his wife and son. How many solar systems lay between them now? The enormity of their separation would be difficult to determine precisely. He started to calculate the number of weeks that would elapse before he would be home with them, but it was impossible to compute as it hinged on an unknown factor---the success of the X-men's mission. 'I am surrounded by my friends and family, and yet paradoxically I am alone.' Hank tried to focus his mind on reviewing the baby development research he had read. He wondered which stages of his young son's growth he was missing but he found that oddly he could not recall the baby's exact age. Freedom was speeding through space on a clear and direct path, but Hank's mind and thoughts continued to drift aimlessly. Would he and Panda ever be able to bridge the gap separating them? The infinite stars, planets, comets, and asteroids?
Asteroids.
Suddenly, Hank pitched forward in his seat. The ship began to rock, and a loud explosion sounded. The red alert siren automatically began to wail, waking up the crew. The ship spiraled out of control like a child's toy top.
Hank frantically pressed buttons on the main console, commanding the shields into readiness. He pressed several more buttons to reactivate the ship's stabilizers and, mercifully, they responded. Freedom stopped rocking like an earthquake. Various screens and alerts flashed, indicating hull breaches. Hank's supremely dexterous fingers flew across the keyboards at super-human speed, trying to ensure that emergency back-up systems came on-line.
Several X-men reached the bridge, loud confusion and panic continued, and many shouting voices struggled to be heard over the din. Cyclops brushed Hank aside as he planted himself on the captain's chair, and he told the group to remain calm as he fought for control.
**************
When I got up off the floor, I found Jean-Paul tugging at my arm. "What the hell is going on?" I asked. I had been having a strange dream. I dreamed I was back in San Francisco, except its terrain looked like one of the flat Midwestern areas that I grew up in instead of the hilly, vibrant coastal city. In the dream I was riding along a street, being pulled gently in a wooden cart and both sides of the street had colorful vegetable gardens on both sides. Then everything started to shake and I thought we were having an earthquake, until I woke up and saw that I had been thrown from the bed.
"Let's get to the bridge!" he said, his voice almost at a yell in order to be heard over the red alert siren. He handed me a pair of pants, and I donned them (only later to realize they belonged to Jean-Paul and were too large for me.) He scooped me into his arms and flew me to the bridge at hyper-speed.
When we reached the bridge, it was already crowded and in a condition of near-pandemonium. The ship had stopped rocking but I had no idea what was going on. My eyes got the gray-and-white hazy thing over them as my groggy brain struggled to comprehend the events.
My first fear was an attack by FOH. A million horrors flashed through my mind, images so terrible that death seemed preferable. But as soon as I understood that we were not in any danger of being captured by FOH again and indeed not under attack at all, I relaxed. In the midst of the panic, I slowly pieced together what was happening from what others were saying. We had been hit by asteroids. Not just regular asteroids, but asteroids that were each no larger than the size of a pea. Our sensors had not detected them, and shields weren't put up in time.
I soon learned that I should **not** have relaxed upon hearing this news.
The asteroids that hit us may have been no larger than peas, but they were stronger and sharper than bullets ripping through flesh. At the time, we had no estimate of how many of these asteroids hit us but we later guessed it had to have been several thousand. They pierced the hull and ripped through the ship.
Cyclops divided us into damage control teams, and we sped to our assigned areas of the ship working madly to repair the hull breaches. We looked, I imagine, fairly ridiculous in our various stages of undress. I found the pair of Jean-Paul's pants I wore ridiculously loose but not, fortunately, to the point where they threatened to fall down. I ended up working alongside Jubilee who was dressed in a yellow nightgown with a scooped neckline, and Cannonball who wore naught but his boxers. Sam seemed unselfconscious about it which surprised me – I would've expected him to be more modest. He was definitely focussed on his work. All three of us smelled of sleep and vaguely of sweat, and Jubilee of flowers too; perhaps it was a scented body lotion. I later learned that Jubilee had locked her daughter in her room for the time being---thinking (correctly, I'm sure) it the safest place for her during this chaos.
The damage was not a pretty sight. Various sections of Freedom resembled Swiss cheese. It was as if we'd encountered a strange species of space-rats who had munched holes into our starship.
I started to get an inkling that the damage was far worse than I'd initially thought. Listening to snippets of conversation over the communicators, I began to grasp the enormity of the wreck. We had managed to save life support and repair the hull breaches, but our engines were badly damaged. I knew the repairs were not going well when more and more people were called to engineering. Cyclops and Hank had the most experience with the engines; on the Paradise planet, the two of them had been members of the team assigned to repair them. But even with our stabilizers functioning and the two most competent crew members working madly on repair, you could tell that the ship was losing altitude. Every now and then I looked out a window and, disoriented as I may have been, could see Freedom dipping. My stomach wavered accordingly.
I had been running on adrenaline ever since I'd been woken up from my slumber. But it slowly began to ware off as my mind and body realized that the immediate danger was gone. By now my throat was dry and my eyes kept glazing over as my body cried out to resume sleep. Yawn after yawn stretched my lips. When the hull breaches were all repaired, everyone wound up in engineering sooner or later. I remember us standing around solemnly and silently, looking at each other and watching Hank and Cyclops, who were doing most of the work on the engines. The looks on their faces said it all.
Finally, Cyclops and Hank stopped working. They mutely looked at each other. Cyclops shook his head and Hank set down the tool he held in his hand.
"We're gonna have to land the ship," Scott said. "We can't repair the engines."
*****************
So basically, Freedom was taken down by something the size of pebbles. This state-of-the-art starship, capable of warp drive and cloaking, armored with phasers and photon torpedos, able to execute dozens complex functions, was brought to its knees by thousands of objects ---- most of which no larger than a dime.
Since the bridge was way overcrowded, Cyclops asked that all except the field commanders clear it for the time being (though Jean remained on the bridge too.) The rest of us assembled (actually, most of us dozed sporadically) in the conference room nearest the bridge. Periodically we received updates. The leaders wanted to land the ship on the Paradise Planet, but all their estimations indicated we didn't have a chance of making it there---we were still too far away. Jean could use her telekinesis to move Freedom (no small feat) but she said she doubted that she had the ability to get us that far.
We would have to use our remaining momentum combined with Jean's telekinesis to drift towards the nearest planet with breathable air. Our plan would be to set up shop there and attempt to repair the engines.
Allowing Freedom to just drift through space indefinitely was not an option. By all of Hank's calculations, the engines would continue to corrode and the starship would continue to lose altitude ---- we'd end up "not drifting through space, but rather being buffeted around like the ball in a pinball machine," as Hank put it.
Months ago, we found ourselves on board Freedom with almost no dilithium left and we set a course for Nari Silara, an unknown planet, to steal some of their dilithium. We now would find ourselves again at the mercy of a completely alien planet. We once again could only dream of what we would encounter there. But for our first trip to Nari Silara, all we had to do was take the dilithium and leave. We had no idea how long we could remain on this new planet. There were whispers that the engine damage was too severe to ever be repaired.
A lot of frightened conversations took place in that conference room as we awaited word from our leaders. "So what are we gonna do when we get to the planet?" Jubilee asked.
"We gotta hope dat Hank and Cyke can fix the engines. They fix 'em before, petit'," Gambit said.
"What if they can't?"
"We have two shuttles on board this ship," Jean-Paul began, "can't we…..?" he broke off, seeing the look on Nightcrawler's face. Nightcrawler had led the efforts to repair hull damage in the shuttle bay.
"The damage in shuttle bay was severe," he said solemnly. "I don't think the shuttles are salvageable." He sighed. "We can try though."
"But even if we can fix the shuttles, what would we do then?" Hector asked.
"Well, den at leas' we could send small groups back to An'zhina. We could all get back dere eventually." Gambit paused. "It won't help Freedom 'dough."
"The shuttles don't have enough power to tow Freedom back," I added.
"So we haveta hope we can fix Freedom," Jubilee concluded.
Once they emerged from the bridge, most with cups of coffee in their hands, our leaders basically confirmed the dialogue we'd just finished. They felt we had an "excellent chance" (as Cyclops put it) of reaching the nearest planet able to support human life and they projected we would be able to land within 45 hours. The landing would be enormously difficult with the engines so compromised. When we landed, we would work on engine repair and shuttle repair.
"What do we know about this planet?" Jeanne-Marie asked.
"We can breathe the air," Cyclops said.
"It's cold," Wolverine added.
"It's also very big. Probably about three times the size of earth," Cyclops added.
"Are there any inhabitants?" Nightcrawler asked. I held my breath.
"Yes," Cyclops said. "But hopefully not in the area we'll land."
"Hopefully?" Jubilee asked.
"We're gonna do the best we can to land the ship where we want it," Rogue said. "But we need engine power to do that." She didn't need to add anything more to that.
"Our landing's going to be pretty touch-and-go," Jean summed up.
**********************
The sun smiled on another idyllic An'zhinian day. The mutants who made An'zhina their home adored it, playing volleyball games and swimming under its glow. They continued to avail themselves of the many trails and pathways An'zhina offered through its forests, hills, and other natural beauties. One group went on a snorkeling expedition to explore the colorful underground life beneath the crystal waters. During one balmy evening, the Drama Club staged a comedic play outdoors to an audience which soon bellowed with laughter. While being entertained, the audience sipped wine and munched on various treats.
Meanwhile, Panda dozed in her room. Rob hadn't slept much during the night---he woke up twice---leaving Panda to catch up on her sleep when she could. She woke from the fitful, dreamless sleep as the sun began to go down. Her nipples stung from the painful duty of breastfeeding.
"We should visit her, Charles," Moira suggested to Xavier when the evening's play had concluded. Moira walked alongside his hoverchair. "It's not healthy for her to be alone so much."
"Yes," Charles agreed. "Let's go see her now." Panda rarely made public appearances nowadays; one had to go out of ones way to be assured the chance to spend time with her.
Panda did not rise from her chair to greet them.
"Do you need help with the baby?" Moira asked. She, and others, had made this offer countless times already. Moira was not surprised to be turned down once more.
"Would you like to work with me in the lab?" Moira asked. "We got so far in that AIDS research that I do na want to just let it stop. I am still working on a cure."
Laboratory work reminded Panda of Hank too much. It slapped her in the face, rubbing in the dire fact of her husband's priorities. Besides, Panda didn't have the energy for it.
When Charles and Moira left Panda's room minutes later, the Professor said, "I am going to ask her if she would like to go into counseling with me."
"I wish I knew if she has the usual sort of post-partum depression or if it is indeed something worse."
"That is what I hope to find out. If she agrees to go into counseling with me, we can delve into this even more."
Charles hoped Panda would agree. He certainly had the time now; not many An'zhinians were still in one-on-one counseling sessions with him, though a smattering of support groups still held meetings which he occasionally helped facilitate. And although Xavier had much success with many of the mutants rescued from the FOH camps, his failures would always haunt him. Psylocke stood out in his mind. He had utterly failed with her counseling. Although Xavier had recently helped Northstar deal with cumulative emotional trauma, and before that had worked with Warren on depression, he would never forgive or forget his failure with Psylocke. He hoped to have better luck with Panda ---- assuming she assented to this.
Even more than that, Xavier hoped his X-men would be successful on their mission. The prolonged stay on An'zhina had been just what his soul needed. He felt stronger and more invigorated than ever before and he had decided that he would take part in the X-men's next mission to earth.
'That is,' he told himself, 'if another mission is even needed. Perhaps at this very moment, Jean is using her powers to change the minds of enough people. Perhaps the ripple effect we hoped for is taking place, and life for mutants on earth is already starting to improve.'
****************
Once the X-men's meeting ended, the team gradually dispersed. Cyclops and most of the field commanders headed back for the bridge. Jean Grey went to her room to rest. The ship's landing would heavily depend on her and she wanted to rest up as much as possible.
The bitter sting of disappointment was felt throughout the ship. The gloom and sense of let-down resonated from one end of Freedom to the other. Instead of reaching earth and making life better for mutants, the X-men were drifting towards an unknown planet where they would remain -- until they managed to repair Freedom's engines. **If** they managed, Bobby silently corrected his thoughts. There was no guarantee; there never was. `We could be stranded for god-knows-how-long,' he thought, as he walked down the hallway. He tried to chase those kinds of thoughts away from his mind.
`It could always be worse,' he said to himself. `The time we were captured by FOH and they killed Colossus. Tortured Jean-Paul and Storm. Or the time Gambit, Wolverine, and I were captured and forced to work in a mine. Things could always be **way** worse. Besides, at least Jean-Paul's healthy.' Bobby had never felt a more frightening chill than that terrifying day in Hank's lab when they had been informed that Jean-Paul tested positive for HIV. `Yet we side-stepped that landmine, just like we got out of every other scary situation. We always make it.'
Bobby reached Hank's room and knocked on the door. After an unusually long wait, he heard Hank ask, "Who's there?"
"It's Bobby. Can I come in?"
Another pause. The door slid aside and Hank gestured for his friend to enter.
Hank was sitting on the floor of the room, his blue coat askew in various places. The bleary-eyed scientist observed Bobby sit down next to him.
"Hey big guy….it's not your fault," Bobby began, with heartbreaking sympathy in his voice.
"That is incorrect," Hank said, shrugging off the arm Bobby attempted to place around his shoulders. "It is indeed my fault."
Hank then recounted to Bobby the chain of events that he had repeated to himself silently, countless times already. He looked straight ahead, and not at Bobby, as he spoke. "I became wrapped up in my research and was late for my bridge duty shift. Shaman informed me of the asteroid situation. I did not devote my full attention to him. As soon as Shaman left the bridge, I forgot his words and his warnings, and purged my mind of thoughts of asteroids. I did not even look at the main monitor."
"It's okay. We all make mistakes," Bobby implored.
"It is not simply 'okay.' Such disaster as this cannot be excused. This incident was completely avoidable."
Bobby was quiet for a few moments. He reached around to pat Hank's back. "It was Panda, wasn't it? I mean, Panda and the baby? You're really really depressed without them, aren't you?"
"Yes," Hank admitted quietly, though the way Bobby phrased it wasn't quite apt.
Bobby smacked his own forehead. "I'm such a schmuck. I'm an idiot! I never really realized how depressed you were. And sheesh, you're the guy who saved my life! If it weren't for you, I'd be dead. You're my best friend, and I just haven't been there for you at all. I totally suck!"
Hank solemnly observed Bobby's self-flagellation. Bobby possessed an immaturity that Hank did not; at some level Bobby thought it all revolved around him. Despite everything that had just occurred, Bobby was—in a way---asking Hank to console **him.** Hank patiently waited for Bobby to finish his rant.
"See, this is all my fault!" Bobby concluded. "If I'd been a better friend----"
Hank then used a tone he had probably never before used with his best friend. "Bobby, please," he said coldly. "I absolve you of any and all guilt over this matter. Is that truly why you came here? The guilt and the blame over this belong to me."
Momentarily stunned, Bobby bit his lip. He struggled to keep composure and find words in the face of Hank's anger. He could not recall Hank ever being out-and-out mad at him. He wanted to crawl under the bed in fear, recoiling as he had when either of his caustic parents had railed at him as a child. "I—I'm sorry. I really am. But um, Hank, I really don't think anyone on the team blames you or resents you for this. Everyone makes mistakes. It's not like….like we're dead or captured by FOH. We'll get out of this."
"I failed to perform my duty," he said tonelessly. "Mutants on earth are being tortured and killed. Because of my negligence, the X-men will not be arriving to earth any time in the near future to help relieve their suffering. Possibly, we shall never return." His voice remained flat. "We might be stranded on that planet for the remainder of our lives, assuming we can even reach it and land safely." He spoke with finality.
"Hank, when's the last time you got any sleep? Do you think you oughtta….."
Bobby's voice trailed off as he saw Hank rise to his feet. "Where are you going?" Bobby asked, getting up from the floor as well.
"I am going to speak to Cyclops."
************
The X-men ate a somber lunch. Most had slept only briefly since the chaos of the previous night. Still, the X-men were going forward with their normal routine now. There was really nothing more that they could do right now.
"At least we still have all our dilithium," Jubilee was saying. "I think we got enough that we'll be okay for a long time. Now that was scary, when we lost our dilithium, wasn't it?"
Wolverine chewed his replicated sausage as he watched Jubilee. Her optimism was sincere, he knew. He'd always liked that trait of Jubilee's. He wasn't thrilled with the turn of events that had unfolded, but he wasn't about to mourn them either. He had learned that sometimes, as much as you hated to admit doing so, you had to roll with the punches. The X-men had been thwarted before and had found a way around it; Logan felt fairly confident that they would do so again this time.
He just hoped that whatever happened, Freedom's engines would be repaired within a reasonable amount of time. The absence of Storm continued to gnaw at him. It wasn't just their lovemaking that he missed----though his body now intensely craved sex ----but he missed her presence as well. He missed everything about Storm: holding her during the dancing lessons he'd agreed to take, laughing with her over Rory's antics, sharing some bittersweet memory from their years in the trenches as X-men. This detour had the potential to lengthen his separation from Storm, and he regretted that more than almost anything else.
The others at the table voiced agreement with Jubilee. The X-men would have to take this set-back in stride, as they did with the other obstacles thrown in their direction over the years.
Hank entered the mess hall. Earlier, he had attempted to catch up on sleep but had succeeded only in losing consciousness for less than an hour. Hank now approached the table, noting that – fortunately -- most of the X-men were there. Only Rogue, Gambit, and Shaman were missing.
He stood alongside the table until the various conversations died down and all turned their attention to him. He avoided Bobby's sorrowful eyes and spoke. "I wish to apologize. To all of you." The room was silent, other than Hank's voice. He had the rapt attention of his peers. "My negligence caused us to become mired in this predicament. I apologize for my heedlessness. I will not attempt to make excuses for my behavior. I only beg your forgiveness." He had placed a hint of emphasis on the word "beg."
"Oh, Hank," Jean said, springing up from her seat and hugging him. Charlotte followed her mother and clasped her arms around the furry leg of her beloved uncle. Hank's arms remained at his sides; he did not return the hug.
Earlier, Hank had approached Cyclops and told him that he wished to resign his position as field commander, stating that he did not deserve it. Scott refused to accept the resignation and asked Hank that they discuss the situation later, once more time had passed and they had more distance from the situation. Reluctantly, Hank had agreed.
Hank then forced himself to listen to the platitudes offered by the rest of his teammates. "It's okay," "It wasn't your fault," "We'll get through this," "We don't blame you." He thought that perhaps he now possessed empathy for what Northstar may have experienced that day – it seemed so long ago now, though it truly wasn't -- when he had stood before the team and revealed his HIV positive status. A flurry of clichés had been uttered then, too.
'But Northstar was not to blame for his predicament. And his HIV status did not directly impact the lives of his teammates the way my error has,' Hank told himself.
Hank endured the hugs and kind words of his teammates. After issuing another apology, he excused himself and promptly left the room.
****************
That evening, I was sitting on the floor of my room with Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie. We were finishing our dinner, playing CDs in the background, and drinking some booze that we'd replicated on An'zhina and had brought on our journey. None of us were really big drinkers, but we thought we'd have a little get-together --- mainly to mark the consumption of our last alcoholic beverages. (Anything for a little party, I guess.) The whole team had met in a conference room sometime after lunch, and Cyclops announced that we would have to go back to using only the bare minimum of dilithium. We had a pretty sizable supply now, but we didn't know how long we'd be waylaid on that planet and we had to conserve. So alcohol and other non-essentials wouldn't be replicated anytime soon.
I didn't disagree with Cyclops either. The restrictions made sense. So, that evening, the three of us poured the contents of our last wine bottle into wine glasses as we sat around listening to CDs replicated on An'zhina. Use of the holodeck was now, of course, suspended but fortunately the CD player required only a miniscule amount of dilithium and therefore was permissible.
"Bobby, relax. He will get over it," Jeanne-Marie said, her words slurred. I'd lost count of the number of times she'd poured from that bottle into her glass, and her cheeks were flushed.
"Hank is a strong man, amour," Jean-Paul said, "you know that."
"I know. But I never saw him looking the way he did at lunch." Or, I silently added, sounding the way he had in his room before then. I was still disturbed from witnessing Hank so angry, and I'd not approached my best friend since then.
"He probably will be…depressed for a while. But I am sure that he can overcome it," Jean-Paul said. "Once he sees that no one blames him, he will be fine."
"I sure hope so," I mumbled. It wasn't so much his guilt I was worried about as it was the fact that he'd been so depressed and no one had apparently noticed. I guess I'd never really known how much the separation from Panda and Rob was hurting him. How could I have been so neglectful of my best friend?
"I do not blame Hank for what happened," Jeanne-Marie began, her voice rising, "but I am so sad that we will not be going to earth soon. I am so far from Stephan now."
Jean-Paul looked at his sister. "Jeanne-Marie, we talked about this before. Stop dreaming! You already lost him and you are never getting him back!"
Maybe it was the alcohol, but Jean-Paul was suddenly sounding very sharp and angry. I hadn't seen him look so angry since, possibly, that day I'd told him about my fling on Ceti III. The sting in his words seemed uncalled for and it was so abrupt too.
And I guess Jeanne-Marie hadn't seen him so angry either. Tears started to well on her reddened face. "So I am just to forget about him then, eh??" she spewed, easily returning her brother's rage.
"No, but you have to face reality. He's gone! He doesn't love you. You keep thinking that once we get to earth-----"
Jeanne-Marie flung her wineglass at her brother's face. It hit him around one eye. I watched Jeanne-Marie storm out of the room, and Jean-Paul clutch the area of his face.
"Are you alright?" I whispered. I wasn't sure why I was whispering except that I knew I wanted an antidote to all the loudness that had just transpired.
"I'm alright," he mumbled. He removed his hands from the vicinity of his eye, and I could tell that he'd be okay; the glass had not hit the eye itself. "Guess I deserved that, no? I am drunk."
"Jeanne-Marie's drunk. You're more tipsy than anything, I think." I held a napkin and dabbed at the wine dripping on his face, my mind reeling a bit from the events of the last few seconds. You never knew what those twins would do.
Seeing Jean-Paul looking weak, I helped him towards the bed. He laid on his side. "You want some ice for that?" I asked. Upon receiving his nod, I iced up one hand and gently brought it towards Jean-Paul's face. We were both silent then. I sat next to the bed with my icy hand on his face, listening to his breathing. His anger seemed to be cooling off.
"Bobby, I just want Jeanne-Marie to stop living in the past. She can't pretend that when we get to earth, Jean's going to make contact with Stephan and he's going to say that he loves his mother and misses her and wants to return." He added, "That's enough ice for now, ma coeur. Thank you."
"I know what you mean about Jeanne-Marie," I said, gratefully removing my hand from his face. My arm had been getting tired. "But imagine how you'd feel if it was your kid. You think you'd ever just give up?"
"I suppose not. It is just that….she needs to accept what has happened. And I have heard her go on and on about Stephan a thousand times now!" his voice again sounded mad.
"Well, let her go on and thousand-and-one times," I said firmly. "Neither of us can really understand what she's going through."
Jean-Paul smiled. "I love it when you are so resolute!" He sat up, propped up by one arm. "Amour, I **am** only tipsy." He reached a hand to caress my face and he had the look in his eyes. "Do you want to?"
"I always want to," I said enthusiastically. I smiled, "And I don't know if I've ever been made love to by an angry and tipsy Jean-Paul before!"
The idea carried a bit of thrill for me and I pictured a night of aggressive, heart-pounding lovemaking from Jean-Paul. But in reality, his anger had dissipated and the booze just made him tired now. At one point, when I'd scooted down on the bed and had been gleefully doing one of my specialties -- giving great head -- he said, "Why don't you top tonight?" I assented to this role-reversal and he repositioned himself to lay on his side. Don't get me wrong; I greatly enjoyed it all -- the entwining of arms and legs, kissing the back of his neck, and being inside him; very affectionate stuff -- but this just wasn't what I'd imagined. And he went to sleep right afterwards. Oh well.
***************
I avoided Hank the next day. Doesn't that sound terrible? I guess I was still afraid of the anger I'd seen from him during our last one-on-one. We now had like less than 24 hours before we'd have to begin the landing procedures for Freedom. The planet loomed ahead in the distance. Hank was busy with the other field commanders and Jean, reviewing and re-reviewing their modified landing procedures. When I saw him at breakfast (he did not show for lunch or dinner), he looked distracted and distant. I thought that maybe he needed to concentrate on preparations for the ship landing. I also got the idea that maybe he'd be more approachable once we were safely ensconced on the planet.
So I backed off and gave him the space I thought he needed. Or maybe it was just plain selfishness; my fear of approaching Hank in an angry mood
At least we had one thing going for us. So far, as Cyclops reported, the engines were holding up better than we thought. Although severely wounded, the engines had enough power to get us to the planet's orbit. I hadn't realized it but I guess some had feared they would out-and-out break, but those fears seemed unfounded.
Since I wasn't going to be involved in the landing of the ship, I tried to hang back and just relax that day. There wasn't much I could do at that point.
Finally, when it was time, we were all called to engineering and we strapped ourselves in. Cyclops, Jean, and Hank would remain on the bridge but too many cooks would spoil the soup and we didn't need any more than three people working on landing the ship. So the rest of us buckled ourselves into seats in engineering and waited.
*****************
The landing of Freedom proved uneventful for the X-men. The ship was guided partly by its failing engines and partly by the finely-honed skill of Jean Grey's telekinesis. It entered the atmosphere of the foreign planet and began to descend. As many of the X-men held their breath, Freedom slowly and successfully landed, without sustaining any additional damage. All of the crew was safe, and the starship now cradled in a barren area of the vast planet.
Freedom's sensors still functioned and the X-men knew that no humanoids existed in the area. The group was far from any advanced life forms. "But they are out there," Jean murmured on the bridge, teetering between exhaustion from having used her telekinesis and exhilaration at the X-men's safe landing. She also wanted to learn more about the lifeforms on the planet, but was far too tired to do any sort of probing.
Charlotte could, as well, sense the emotions of the humanoids who inhabited the planet. The young girl now had a better grasp on how to buffer herself against the emotions of thousands or millions of minds. The young girl shook quietly and clung to her father. "You're alright, Charlotte?" Scott whispered.
"Yes, Daddy," she replied, though she sounded far away.
The balance of the team filtered from engineering towards the bridge. "What now?" Northstar asked, echoing the curiosity of those around him. "Let's have a look around outside."
"Let's not be hasty, Northstar," Cyclops said. He was holding Charlotte in his arms. The girl remained silent but her eyes were wide. Jean had retired to their room to rest and regain her strength. "It's about ten degrees out there and very windy," he added.
"We got winter clothes. An besides, we gotta get out there an' explore sometime. The sensors show there ain't anyone around," Wolverine said.
"No big animals either, right?" Rogue asked.
"Right," Cyclops replied, realizing he'd lost this battle. Well, maybe they were right. What sense did it make to keep the team cooped up inside the starship if no immediate danger lay outside? Cyclops couldn't fully explain his protective urge and the desire to keep the group inside the ship. `Well really,' Scott said to himself, `we're going to be here a **long** time. If they want to explore it now, let them.'
"I take it you three are volunteering to be on the first away team," Cyclops stated. He wasn't sure "away team" was the right terminology to use now, but it would have to fit. "Who else?"
Discussions erupted on the over-crowded bridge. Both Jeanne-Marie and Bobby attempted to convince Northstar to remain on board the ship, and Gambit did likewise with his wife. Cyclops felt a hint of pleasure at noting that he wasn't the only one who'd felt some sort of instinct to remain inside.
It looked as if Bobby and Jeanne-Marie lost their battle, but Gambit won his. Northstar would be going on the away team, and Rogue would not. Northstar would be joined by Wolverine, Gambit, and Shaman. Cyclops agreed that this was a good size for an away team. The quartet headed for the supply room to dress for the weather outside.
****************
Shaman carried a video camera, so the rest of us could sit inside the rec room and watch. All of us were there (no longer did we have a need to plant someone on bridge duty) except for Jean and most of the children.
I was just as curious about this new planet as anyone else, don't get me wrong. So maybe Jeanne-Marie and I were out of line in asking Jean-Paul to stay inside the ship. An over-reaction, I guess. X-men shouldn't be afraid of the new and unknown, but for some reason, I was. I just wanted Jean-Paul there with me, warm and safe indoors.
The away team did a good job in bundling up. They had hats and gloves, along with coats that looked insulated and very toasty. They also brought face masks and scarves, It was kind of weird seeing Jean-Paul, before he set off, all covered up like that. I didn't think I'd ever seen him with so much clothes on. His elfin ears were covered by his hat. Even Wolverine had the layers of clothes on.
The days of hot sun, sandy white beaches, and refreshing water in which to swim on An'zhina clearly were gone.
The first thing we saw --- when the exit ramp was lowered and we watched through Shaman's camera --- was snow. An abundance of white snow. This solar system had two suns and both could be seen dimly in the distance, but they appeared as if drained and out of energy. We could see traces of sunlight reflected on snow but it was dim and feeble.
Jean-Paul, Wolverine, Gambit, and Shaman walked across the virgin landscape, their tracks the only ones on the fresh snow. Jean-Paul could have flown, of course, but Wolverine said he wanted the away team to stick together at first. We could hear the crunching sounds of boots trampling snow. For an instant, I had an inexplicable desire to turn into my Iceman form, but I swallowed it.
"How cold is it? And is it terribly windy?" Jeanne-Marie asked via the communicator.
"It's cold," Shaman allowed. His voice sounded far away, though the group couldn't have been more than 30 feet from the ship. "There is a moderate wind."
"Nothing compared to half the winters we grew up with, ma soeur," Jean-Paul added. You could see his breath in the cold air.
"I can't see anything other than snow in each direction," Cyclops commented. Shaman and his camera had just completed a full 360 degree turn, to give us all a better view.
"Neither can we," Wolverine said bluntly.
That about summed it up. Snow in each and every direction, and nothing but. I didn't see any lakes or rivers, any forests, or any hills. The snow-covered ground looked mostly level and flat.
"The snow looks pretty deep," Cyclops observed.
"Yeah, it's almost up to my knees," Gambit replied. Again I marveled at how distant the away team sounded. "Hey, Cyke, tell me dis is the heart of winter for dis place an' it's gonna get better from here."
"The data retrieved from the computer does not corroborate that, unfortunately," Hank said. He'd been sitting in a corner of the rec room quietly. I glanced at him and then looked down, guiltily. "Temperatures in this area will drop to thirty or forty below during their coldest months."
"So does it ever get warm?" Sam asked.
"Yes, during the brief summer, temperatures will reach the fifties and perhaps the sixties."
"Great," Sam muttered.
"You smell anythin', Wolverine?" Rogue asked. I took a look at Rogue and wondered if she was mad at not being on the away team. I knew she hated it when Gambit treated her like a china doll. She looked none too pleased, though she didn't look angry either---thank goodness; a pissed off Rogue is never a good thing.
"A few strange smells," Wolverine replied. "There are some birds near here and I can smell 'em. I don't think we gotta worry much about 'em. I can see a few trees in the distance. Nuthin' like a forest, though."
Wolverine's eyesight had to be pretty incredible. Squinting at the monitor, I couldn't see any trees at all.
Wolverine added, "The air ain't like earth's---it's more like the Paradise planet or even that Nari Silara place. Ain't any pollution," he explained.
"Even I can smell the difference," Jean-Paul said. "It's fresh."
"Our sensors do agree that the inhabited areas of the planet are not industrialized," Hank said, "which would explain the pollution-free air."
The team continued to walk for a while longer. A few of the large birds Wolverine mentioned passed over them once. The birds seemed to slow down and fly lower, but they weren't really interested in the group.
"Those birds have the right idea," Jean-Paul said. "Let me take a look from above."
I heard Wolverine mumble something along the lines of, 'You're just gonna see more of the same.'
"I have another idea," Cyclops said. "It's going to be nightfall in about thirty minutes, and tomorrow it's supposed to be warmer. Tomorrow let's send a team of those who can fly----" he took a look in the direction of Cannonball and Jeanne-Marie, who were sitting near each other– "those who can fly who **want** to explore, of course."
The group assented, and the four members of the away team trudged back to the ship.
"Maybe it's good that we're in such a lonesome place," Rogue said, as we all started to get up to meet the away team by the air lock. "It's probably better to be here then surrounded by…people and stuff. Like that area of Nari Silara."
"Yes, but there can be a downside too," Jeanne-Marie replied. "If we are to be here for a long time, there are many disadvantages to being stuck in such a barren place."
Hank had been standing near Jeanne-Marie when she said those words and I couldn't miss the look of pain on his face.
***************
The next order of business Cyclops needed to attend to began with a meeting of the field commanders. They would need to discuss engine and shuttle repairs, as well as setting more limits and restrictions on usage of the replicators. The X-men would have to conserve as much dilithium as possible, not knowing how long they might be stranded.
"Shouldn't the whole team be here, Cyclops?" Rogue asked, as she settled down into a chair inside the conference room. Wolverine and Beast were also seated at the rectangular table.
"She's got a point," Wolverine said. "This stuff is gonna impact everyone."
Cyclops struggled to keep his mood steady. Did they have to start the meeting this way? None of them ever really understood what it was like to be the leader, he mused. No matter how solid he thought a decision, it was always open and subject to attack. Perhaps "attack" was too strong a word, he would allow, but every decision was open to questioning. He had hoped it might get better with Storm's temporary absence, but it hadn't.
"What I had in mind was for us to make some preliminary recommendations. Afterwards, we can take them to the whole team for them to agree to," Cyclops said, trying to keep a defensive tone out of his voice. "Sometimes it becomes too much of a free-for-all if we start discussing these things with the whole group." And other times, Cyclops noted, the only people speaking would be the field commanders and a couple others while most of the team sat silently. "I think it's more organized this way, and if people disagree with our…decisions, they can always bring it up and we can reconsider."
"Okay," Rogue said. Wolverine and Beast nodded agreement as well.
"Before we begin the discussions," Hank started, "I must bring up once again our previous conversation, Cyclops." Hank turned to Rogue and Wolverine. "Due to my error on the bridge, I had told Cyclops that I wish to resign my position of field commander."
"What??" Rogue asked, springing forward in her seat. Neither Beast nor Cyclops had told anyone of this conversation.
"Cyclops refused to accept my resignation at the time," Hank continued. "However, we need to discuss this. It was my negligence that caused our predicament. And therefore I must insist that I be permitted to resign."
"We all make mistakes," Wolverine said. "Ain't none of us perfect."
"Yeah, Hank," Rogue said. "You gotta stop beatin' yourself up over this. I don't think that this makes you unfit to be a field commander."
"What they're saying is right, Hank," Cyclops said. "And I still cannot accept your resignation over this. I **will** not accept it, and I am asking you to keep your position."
Hank shook his head. "We have discussed the need to cultivate more X-men leaders on An'zhina, and perhaps now is the time to start fostering the development of our own people. We have others who would make good field commanders. Some I might suggest are Jean, Gambit, Nightcrawler, or Northstar. Alternatively, perhaps we do not need more leaders than the three of you, given how small our group is. Irregardless of that matter, I must insist upon resigning."
The discussion and debate continued on. Cyclops vehemently argued against Hank resigning. Rogue couldn't hide a half smile, wondering if Cyke's passion on this subject was fueled in part by his fear at the prospect of having Gambit or Northstar as a field commander. Rogue knew that Cyclops would be thinking ahead about this – he always tried to stay a step or two ahead of things. Rogue herself didn't believe that Hank would actually resign, so she did not dare get her hopes up at the thought of having Gambit as a fellow field commander. (Though she again was angry at her husband for asking her not to go on the away mission, and she guessed they would have a spirited argument later that day.)
Finally, Hank agreed to abide by the wishes of the others and retain his position. "I will agree to this only because the three of you are asking it of me," he explained.
"Hank," Wolverine began. "Thank you."
Rogue nodded vigorously. "Yes, thank you. We all want you to stay and we all know you're a great leader."
With that matter settled, Cyclops turned the course of the meeting over to engine repair. The group reviewed the information at hand about the state of the engines. The data was not encouraging, but the matter was not hopeless either.
"The damage is more extensive and severe than the damage we sustained in the magnetic field storms," Hank concluded, referring to the incident years ago which had ended up with the X-men stranded for seven months on the Paradise Planet. "However, I think there is an excellent chance that the engines can be repaired."
"And what 'bout the chances of them not ever gettin' fixed?" Rogue asked.
"That is indeed a possibility, though I think a slim one," Hank admitted. "It is possible that the damage might be more extensive than appears now. The asteroids might have caused damage that our sensors are not even detecting now, due to the sheer number and minute size of them. Another factor to consider is that the chance exists that our repair efforts might cause additional damage."
"We need to take that chance. We can't stay here forever. Hank, I would suggest that you and I begin repairs at once," Cyclops said.
"When we were stranded on the Paradise Planet, you guys had Storm and the Professor helpin' you," Rogue said. "Do you think you're gonna need more help now too?"
Hank and Cyclops discussed it briefly. The two of them, due to their experience on the Paradise Planet, understood the workings of the engines better than anyone else on board. They also recalled that, at times during the first situation, all four team members had not truly been needed. They concluded that for the time being, the two of them would work on the engines and if they needed additional help, they would request it then.
"There's been a lot of talk 'bout the shuttles," Rogue said. "Say, if we can't get the engines fixed, we can always leave in the shuttles. I know we ain't all gonna fit in one shuttle. But we could take a few people, go back to An'zhina, drop off some people and return with some others in the shuttle and the other shuttle that we left on An'zhina."
"Yes," Hank said. "Slowly but surely, we can continue making trips until everyone is returned to An'zhina. Of course that will not help Freedom. If we cannot fix the engines, the starship will remain on An'zhina – possibly forever."
"Unless we can convince Queen Marina to lend us a starship again," Cyclops said. Oddly he felt unembarrassed this time at bringing up the sore topic of favors from the monarch. He knew that virtually everyone else knew what had transpired between him and the Queen in order to procure the remedy for Northstar's former condition. For reasons he could not explain, he wasn't bothered that much about it. "We could pack Freedom up inside the ship—like we did before, when they lent us the Valiant---and bring it home. Or tow it."
"We're gettin' ahead of ourselves," Wolverine said. "I thought the shuttles were banged up pretty bad."
"One of 'em looked like a package of shredded cheese," Rogue added. "It ain't goin' anywhere."
Hank surveyed the damage report. "One shuttle is indeed destroyed beyond repair. The other was spared from the brunt of the attack and there is a possibility it could be made serviceable."
The leaders decided to recommend to the group that they initially focus their repair efforts on the ship's engines. Should engine repairs appear futile, they agreed to attempt to fix the shuttle as a back-up plan. They would run this by the rest of the X-men for their opinions.
"The final urgent item for us to discuss has to do with dilithium," Cyclops said. "How much do we have right now?"
"If we continue current consumption rates," Hank began, "we have enough for approximately 37 months. Assuming that we will keep the holodeck shut-down."
"That's it?" Rogue asked. "Seems like we had more."
"We probably shouldn't have dropped off so much of the supply on An'zhina," Cyclops said. "Of course hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Who could've foreseen this?"
"If we were to turn off our cloaking device, we can significantly extend our supply," Hank said.
The leaders discussed this option. The obvious downside is that it would open up the possibility of FOH vessels being able to detect them. It was unlikely that FOH would be scanning surfaces of planets (as opposed to space itself), but it was not out of the question either. The team decided that for the time being, the cloak would need to remain. If their supplies ran low, they had the option of having Jean perform telepathic scans of surrounding space. That way, the X-men would have time to put up the shields should Jean detect FOH nearby. That plan, however, carried risk as well; Jean might not telepathically sense FOH starships until after they had sensed Freedom – especially if FOH had improved their sensors. Freedom's weapon systems had been damaged in the asteroid field. A confrontation with FOH could prove disastrous.
"Well, it's not the end of the world," Cyclops said. "In three years' time, we'll have to have either fixed the engines or one of the shuttles. And if we haven't, we can always turn off air support. We can breathe the air on the planet."
"If we have to, we can live off this planet," Wolverine said. He meet his teammates' questioning looks. "Not this area of it, but we can move."
Hank nodded. "This is a planet with a structure similar to earth's. Our preliminary scans do indicate this planet has soil that will work with the vegetable seeds we carry," Hank said. "We can always garden."
"And hunt," Wolverine said.
"Let's hope it doesn't come down to that," Cyclops said. "There's always the chance that the Professor might someday get in the shuttle on An'zhina and use his telepathy to find us. I know, I know---it's a shot in the dark. But we are in the same solar system as the Paradise Planet. Maybe he'd get the idea to look this way." Cyclops took a breath. "Look, one way or another, we'll get through this. It's a setback, no one's happy about it --- but we **are** going to manage. And…and at least we're all together."
Wolverine couldn't explain it, but he did not get the urge to roll his eyes at Cyclops's speech. The words were sincere and came across so. Wolverine had to admit that he found himself agreeing. And less than an hour later, Scott said similar words to the rest of the X-men and the team appeared inspired then too.
**************
We had a lot of new restrictions on using the replicators, but they all made sense. The field commanders drew up a list of items we could replicate. Anything not on the list had to be approved by the leaders. I couldn't argue with the logic of it. We also went back to closing off portions of the ship.
They did, though, decide to leave the gym open for five hours every day, which was a great decision in my book. We all would need to work off the possible boredom and frustration of being cooped up here. I don't think they ever considered shutting it down permanently. Obviously the rec room would be open—at all times---as well.
I sought out Hank soon after the meeting. He was in engineering. I entered the strange room, a room in which I'd never feel comfortable due to the dominating presence of myriad machines and equipment. Some of them hummed noisily; most were silent. I am ashamed to admit that after nearly three and a half years of basically living aboard a starship, I have no idea how most of these mysterious machines operated. Hank's large form stood with the back to me.
"Are you down here 'cause you and Cyclops are gonna start working on the engines soon?" I asked. "Or have you already started?" I looked at my watch. "Wow, a mere ten minutes after the meeting ends and you're already at it. I'm impressed."
Hank turned around, looked at me and smiled. That broad, reassuring smile showed me that everything was going to be okay between us. "The sooner we begin this work, the better. Cyclops will join me soon – he has a few child care matters to attend to first."
I nodded. Hank then stepped closer to me and said, "Bobby, I wish to apologize for my behavior when you and I were last alone. I reacted with some anger, and my anger was misdirected. You were not the appropriate target of my anger."
I shrugged and said, "Hey, no big deal. If that was what you call 'angry', it was pretty mild compared to most people. You gotta remember my boyfriend's a quick-tempered and arrogant hot-head---your worst mood can't be too bad compared to his." I saw Hank smile at my words. (He knew that I was exaggerating, of course, about Jean-Paul. Since Jean-Paul had recovered from being tortured by FOH, he'd never been mean to me. And since starting "therapy", he'd improved his disposition even more. But he still had his moments when I saw the "old" Jean-Paul.)
"Still, I regret the manner in which I said some of those words."
"Nothin' to worry about. I, um, I just feel bad that I haven't been there for you much. Shit, if I'd been a better friend, I would've realized how depressed you were."
"There is no need for you to brow-beat yourself. You **did** try to console me several times, Bobby, but I was not receptive to your words. Indeed, I would not have responded to **anyone's** attempt to console me."
I guess my last comment had sounded self-pitying again and I knew I had to cut it out. I stepped a bit closer to him and gently asked. "So Hank….what is it? I mean, you're missing Panda and Rob like crazy, aren't you? Like duh. But is there something more too?" I don't know where I got the idea to ask that last part, but I had.
"I miss them, of course," he said. He looked as if he wanted to say more but stopped for some reason.
So I couldn't resist prompting him. "And…..?" I pushed. He really looked as if he might say more, and I was hanging on his every word.
Hank turned his head, and I followed his gaze. Cyclops approached us. After a terse 'hello' in my direction, he turned to Hank and said, "We'd better get started."
"Wow, you guys don't waste any time, do you?" I sure didn't mean to come off sounding like a jerk, but Scott walked in at such a bad time. This might sound insane since Hank's been my best friend for so long, but I was just realizing how little he usually opened up and I had just gotten him to a point where I knew he was going to say more.
I resolved that the next time I got Hank alone, we'd be in one of our quarters with some privacy and we would get to the bottom of things.
**************
The following day, the X-men discussed sending a second away team to further explore the planet. They had spent the first day getting settled in, holding meetings to determine plans of action, beginning engine repair work, and ensuring all was functioning as smoothly as possible on board Freedom.
"I'm gonna go on this mission," Rogue said to Gambit, late in the morning. The pair was hurriedly dressing in their room together. "Cyke said it'd be a good idea for those who can fly to have a look around." The couple was late, they knew; breakfast would nearly be finished and the X-men had decided that the away team would leave shortly after the day's first meal. The reminder call they'd received (from Bobby; they had requested it of him the night before) twenty minutes ago had woken them up from sleep.
"Okay," Gambit responded. He was using a towel to squeeze the water out of his hair as he didn't care for blow dryers.
"Okay?" Rogue echoed. She finished strapping on a boot and had fixed it just a bit too tight. "Remy, we gotta settle one thing right now. You don't gimme permission on where I can go and where I can't. I'm pregnant but I ain't helpless." She kept her voice relaxed; she was not unleashing the full fury that she was capable of. She wasn't hiding her displeasure either, though.
"I know dat, chere," he responded evenly.
"Well, then we gotta talk 'bout you bossin' me around in the meetin' yesterday, tellin' me I can't go on the away mission." Rogue didn't quite have the energy for a fight, but she had stewed over that incident. She and Gambit had not spoken much the previous night when they had gone to bed.
Gambit angrily bit his tongue. He wanted to retort that he had not been "bossing her around", but he kept silent on that. "I jus' wanted to make sure dis place was okay," he finally said. "It is. So you gonna be fine."
"Right. I couldda been on that mission yesterday and found out that this place was okay. I'm **invulnerable**, remember?" She looked at her time piece. "C'mon, we're gonna be late."
Gambit followed his wife down the hallway, feeling sadness swirl around his heart. And later, as he watched the away team depart through the airlock, the insight hit him. `We were in each other's minds,' he thought. `I 'dought dat we knew each other inside an' out….an' I **did** know her dat well, at leas' den I did.' So why couldn't Rogue see that Gambit was only concerned for the baby's safety and for Rogue's? After what had occurred with Dagron, Gambit's concern for Rogue was not excessive---at least not as far as he was concerned. Why was she acting like he was a control freak or a domineering husband, when he had only Rogue's best interests in mind?
The sadness remained with him and he barely watched the away team's video feed. The bond they had shared when he entered her mind should not be allowing them to have such a disagreement or a misunderstanding. Had it all been an illusion? Gambit ran his tongue along his teeth but he couldn't remove the stale taste of disappointment.
***************
The four-person away team soared through the air. Rogue and Cannonball headed one way, the Alpha Flight twins another direction. Both groups had video cameras.
Most mutants gifted with the ability to fly took it for granted. Northstar was no exception. Having been able to fly since puberty, he had only dim memories of being subject to gravity's demands. As a teenager, he got used very quickly to the wind rushing against his face, to the squawks of birds fleeing the strange invader, to looking down at those without this divine gift as they trudged along on the earth picking up one foot after the other. Northstar had even viewed himself as something of a deity back then. He had been only half-joking in that assessment. Nothing could quite compare to the sensation of lightness and speed with a hint of fear as one flew as high as the tallest city buildings.
At Aurora's request, the twins held hands as they traversed the sky. Gifted with hyper-speed as well, they would easily be able to explore more terrain than Rogue and Cannonball. They looked down as mile after mile of white snow sped by.
The twins slowed down as they set eyes upon a change in landscape. A cluster of trees now; perhaps not a forest but more likely a grove of trees. An icy river lay nearby, the water frozen over. Further along, a hilly area with grass peeking out from beneath snow. More terrain was passed over and now both grass and leaves could be spotted. Northstar hoped he might see bright and unusual colors in this planet's leaves and grasses; the trees on An'zhina boasted a diverse array of colors including lilac and indigo. But this planet's foliage ran towards musty shades of green sprinkled with browns.
"Can you see all this?" Jean-Paul asked over his communicator.
"Yes," Cyclops said. "But if you keep flying at that speed, you will be out of sensor range soon."
"You won't be out of telepathic range though," Jean reminded.
"It is refreshing to view a change of landscape," Hank commented.
"Yes. It's still cold here though," Northstar said.
"You have traveled quite a distance," Cyclops said, checking his monitor. "If you continue in that direction, you will encounter a large sea. You're almost at the tip of this continent."
Rogue's voice could be heard over the communicator. "You guys ain't encountered any life forms here, have you?"
"No," Jeanne-Marie replied.
"Neither have we."
"There are some on this continent," Jean murmured. "I wonder if perhaps they're doing some hibernating --- or something like it."
Rogue and Cannonball flew over an area with some structures. They glimpsed primitive buildings but no people. The area in which these buildings stood, however, was exceptionally cold. "It's gotta be 30 below," Sam said, his teeth chattering. "This Kentucky boy's about had it." He had worn so many layers of clothing that the smallest movement became difficult. Despite being covered, his ears stung painfully and his nose had gone completely numb.
"We oughtta come back some other day," Rogue said. "I don't see any people around anyway." From their altitude, she could not discern a lot of detail. However, the buildings did not appear in prime condition. They looked as if they were beginning to crumble. Rogue could see markings on the buildings but she was not persuaded to investigate any further. Invulnerable as Rogue was, she didn't care for the bitingly frigid wind either.
"Ruins of some sort," Hank speculated, watching the videotapes as the away teams began their return to Freedom. Hank looked forward to warmer weather when perhaps more exploration could be performed.
*****************
Later that day, Rogue and Gambit were in their quarters together. They sat on the edge of bed next to each other, both looking in the same direction with their feet touching the floor. "Gonna be a long, cold stay here," Gambit murmured. "At leas' on the Paradise Planet we get out and enjoy the area. It was warm dere sometimes."
"And when it was cold there, it was never this cold," Rogue added glumly, subconsciously pulling her sweater tightly against her. She wanted to add that on the bright side, at least they had their baby's arrival to prepare for. She didn't feel like looking on the bright side though.
"Remy, are we ever gonna stop fightin' with each other?" she finally asked, sighing. Their disagreements had weighed the super-humanly strong woman down. She felt as a normal human might if forced to drag a leaden weight around.
"I dunno chere," he replied. He continued to look straight ahead instead of at his wife. "Maybe it be human nature to fight." He was silent for a bit. "Is our nature anyway," he added. "We both headstrong."
"But we both love each other," she said, spreading her hands. "And we had---I mean, we **have** --- such a connection with each other. The way you brought me out of that…trance. We were in each other's minds, Remy," she said, passionately. "I was a part of you, and you were a part of me. We were joined in a way that I don't think most people can ever understand. We had---have—that amazin' connection."
Her words sparked something. He reached for her hand and held it. "Chere, I was t'inkin' dat same t'ing today," he said tenderly. "I was wonderin' why we still fight even after we had dat." He was touched that she had stumbled upon the same question. "An' I was so disappointed."
The room was silent for a bit. "Maybe….maybe," Rogue groped, "we still got that connection but it just don't mean we ain't never gonna fight again. Jean and Scott have a mindlink but they argue with each other."
Gambit nodded. Rogue had shared with him before what Jean had confided to Rogue --- the fact that Jean and her husband **did** have their disagreements with each other at times. Nevertheless, Gambit didn't care for comparisons with Jean and Scott.
"Maybe dere ain't such a t'ing as a perfect relationship," Gambit added. "We do love each other. You know dat you mean more to me den anyone or anyt'ing in the galaxy."
"Maybe we jus' gotta accept that we're gonna fight and argue, and we ain't gonna see eye-to-eye on everything."
The couple remained sitting on the bed, hands clasped together tightly.
*****************
TO BE CONTINUED
Look! I have a quiz….for all you fans of this trilogy, here's a quiz you can take.
What gift will winners receive? Um, not much – but if you get everything right, I'll mention your name next chapter (only if you give me permission.)
So do the best you can, and email answers to stormkpr@usa.net (If you don't want to take the quiz, please email feedback to me instead.)
1. Name 3 of the 4 X-men who Wolverine spent time training in karate.
2. What is Mark's last name?
3. At least how many "mutant containment centers" does FOH have on earth?
4. How many earth days constitutes a week on An'zhina?
5. Of all the "missions" the X-men embarked upon ("mission" being defined as X-men leaving An'zhina for space, whether or not the mission was successful), how many have Rogue and Gambit been on?
6. Same question as above, but for Jubilee
7. Which 2 mutants stayed in John and Elaine Grey's attic?
8. Describe the types of assistance the Pirates have provided the X-men at times.
9. Name some of the gifts that the Natives on the Paradise Planet gave the X-men.
10. Name 2 X-men who have had extended stays in sick bay and describe the reason why.
11. What was the name of the play that Queen Marina and Scott saw on their date?
12. Alpha Flight multi-part name question! First, name Shaman's daughter, then name Jeanne-Marie's (deceased) husband.
13. Describe 2 X-men and their respective hobbies
14. What are 2 of the "clubs" that the mutants on An'zhina formed?
15. What name did Jean and Scott consider for their second child, if it had been a girl?
16. How many sleeping quarters are on board the ship Freedom?
17. How many hours is a standard bridge duty shift on Freedom?
18. What type of government does Endaria have?
19. What shape is the table in Freedom's main conference room?
20. Name An'zhina's resident deejay.
21. Does Gambit snore?
22. How old was Bobby when he re-joined the X-men?
23. What is the age difference between Charlotte and Rory?
24. Describe a few things that Gambit did to pass the time before *that night* on the Paradise Planet.
25. How many different people has each of these characters slept with since the start of the series? (Note-- obviously, I refer to consensual sex only.) : Wolverine, Cyclops, Storm, Bobby
26. How many "love scenes" are there in the entire series? List the couples, what positions they get in, how many orgasms they.....Oh, forget it. Even I have no idea.