(Eight)

The X-men were brought down the ramp of the Lucky Dragon and out into the hanger. Henry looked up at the Lucky Dragon as he walked out, he wanted to see what the vessel looked like without the camouflage. Lucky was sleek and beautiful, a nice shiny silver like a dewdrop. Lucky must just slide through the air like a penguin through water, Henry mused to himself, the scientist in him whirling into action. Lucky was crescent shaped and looked smaller than he had seemed from the inside. The layout of the rooms inside had provided the best use of space and he had been well made. Henry wondered where the engines were, they must be large to be so powerful, but Lucky just didn't seem big enough to house them.

Beast went on to give his new surroundings a much closer look and was startled when he realized that the hanger was actually a huge cave. The walls were carved from rock, probably some kind of limestone or granite, and the smell of damp stone was everywhere. The walls were grey and sparkled with minerals. In spite of being underground, the hanger was very warm and humid.

The hanger itself was massive, it must have taken a long time and a monumental effort to shape it out of the rock. There were several large cargo ships parked inside and even a squad of smaller scrub fighters that must have been stolen from the Dognan judging by their markings. It looked like the marks had been partially painted over as the Clan wanted to claim the ships for themselves, but the Dognan marks could still be seen. The Lucky Dragon was unique in the hanger, the other ships parked here were large and bulky, more of what one would expect from people who didn't seem to have full knowledge of the technology they were using. Henry wondered if they required pilots to be flown as well. The more pilots there were besides Fallen, the better their chances were for getting out of here.

He also observed that there were a lot of Clan men milling about. They were all dressed in the same black leather pants and boots as if there were some sort of style norms here, perhaps as a way of keeping order. Bare chests, long pony tails and tattoos were everywhere. Henry didn't have Logan's sensitive nose, but he could smell the stink coming off of them. Apparently, hygiene was not a priority with these people or they simply didn't have the proper means to maintain it. The smell of sweat and dirty leather was worse here.

Another squad of Valentin's men marched up and greeted their Master with salutes and hand shakes. Valentin gave the order and they surrounded the X-men, taking them into custody and forming an escort. They were led through the bay and placed into a nearby holding cell. There Henry and Gambit's wrist cuffs were removed but not Wolverine's, clearly he was the bigger threat. The cell was locked and they were left alone for a moment to enjoy this new environment.

The cell was dirty and didn't look like it had been used for a long time, lucky them. Beast didn't know if that was good or bad, but he certainly had no desire to stay in here for long. The idea of anyone being held routinely here unsettled him. It was disgusting. A filthy toilet crouched uninvitingly in one corner and a cot with rotten, ragged blankets was in the other. He was appalled by the conditions. "My, God! Don't these people ever bathe!"

Logan sniffed around him, making a face. "I don't get it. They can carve out a place like this, but live like savages."

Henry was actually impressed that Logan had articulated what he himself had been thinking. With the odd mix of technologies they've been seeing, it seemed more like the Clan were the lucky beneficiaries of someone else's handiwork that got left behind somewhere. Still, Beast hadn't realized Logan was quick enough to pick up on something that didn't have to do with fighting or military action. As impressed as he was with his teammate, he couldn't stop himself from complaining, "I certainly hope the whole place isn't like this."

"Don't worry, Blue. If I have my way, we won't be stayin' here long," Wolverine promised. He had no ideas to back up his words, but as bad as this seemed to be, they'd gotten out of worse scrapes than this.

Gambit sat down on the cot but jumped up when he saw the blankets were crawling with bugs. "Sacre' merde! Dis is ridiculous!"

Food was brought to them, but their hopes for full bellies were soon dashed. Henry grimaced when he saw it was half cooked meat swimming in grease. It was so foul none of them would touch it. Gambit paced away, feeling his stomach heave just at the sight of it. After a brief wait they were collected and taken for a long walk through the station.

Clan Station Nine was a massive warren of connecting caves, reminding Henry of stories he'd read of Dwarves building their huge kingdoms underground. The hallways and rooms had been painstakingly carved from solid rock and he never lost his admiration even after they'd gone a ways. Whoever had crafted it, it must have taken them years to dig it all out. What was disappointing was that for all the care it must have required to create it, the place was badly kept. The place was filthy with garbage and debris strewn about. There were no decorations and no colors except for the stony greys and blues of the stone walls. The more Henry looked about, the more he became convinced that his idea about the Clan inheriting this place from some else had to be correct. It would be the same as how they were using Dognan ships to move about. They hadn't built those ships but mastered the use of them on their own somehow.

All the people the X-men passed were unwashed and the stink was horrible. Beast truly began to fear that running water must not exist in here until they passed a courtyard with a large fountain in it. He could see no way that the water was being pumped, but it was spouting up into the air with enthusiasm just the same. It was surrounded by small shops constructed of wooden carts made from salvaged materials from the ruined city, Dognan markings were on the pieces of wood just as it had been on the ships. They didn't offer many wares, they mostly sold handmade clothes and weapons. There was another one selling bottles of beer and wimpy looking vegetables. The beer looked to be homemade and not shipped in.

There were some holes carved into the high ceilings overhead that had fans uselessly twirling the fetid air, but not enough to allow much light or ventilation. The main source of light came from torches and large biers of burning wood nearby, adding the odor of smoke to the already murky atmosphere. It was dim and smoky and Henry was already missing the fresh air of the Lucky Dragon. Even the pens seemed better than this as far as air quality was concerned.

It was clear early on this was a brutal, male dominated society. The men stood about loosely while women cowered behind them submissively. If an order was given, the women responded immediately or were openly beaten. The men fought and argued amongst themselves, shoving each other around, not caring if any innocents or children were harmed in their tussles. The X-men were carefully steered to avoid a sword fight more than once. There seemed to be little or no laws governing violent behavior. Fights and arguments with the use of foul language were constant to the new arrivals as they were led through a central part of what appeared to be a small town.

They saw fixed building shops and taverns constructed of more recycled wood from crates and bombed Dognan buildings. Everywhere the men drank and smoked, filling the air with the stink of tobacco, booze and sweat. Clearly they were even less concerned about second hand smoke than keeping clean.

Things quieted down as the X-men were escorted to more private living quarters. Here there were almost no women and the men were more military in their attitude and appearance. They passed several obvious barracks and community dining halls and had to get past security check points. Squads of men and boys marched by them in an orderly fashion. All were carrying various weapons, mostly swords and bows. Some men of higher rank carried Dognan energy weapons and waited to be saluted by the lower ranking soldiers escorting them. Some officers stood by in amusement as the X-men were pushed and shoved along, they had seen alphas before and were interested in who these new ones might be. Henry, being so big and blue, caught a lot of attention and comments were made.

At last they arrived at a large meeting room. Judging by the security, Wolverine guessed they were about to meet someone of some importance. The room was large with high vaulted ceilings and the stone walls were covered with rich looking tapestries, the first sign of any art or decoration they'd seen so far. The tapestries were hand crafted and showed warriors and battle scenes. Torches were lit every so many feet making this room one of better lit they had been in so far. They passed many long wooden tables covered with maps and dioramas. Soldiers stood about, discussing strategies. A battle was being planned.

They were taken to the back of the room where there was a great open area with a huge throne. They were brought closer and forced by their escorts to kneel in front of a large powerful looking man. This throne was made of wood and covered with soft animal furs and the man seated there looked at ease sitting upon it as though he had been there for years. Next to him he had a huge broad sword kept in a stand within easy reach. He was covered in tattoos, including the Honor Sword as Fallen had and his long black hair was streaked with grey and tied back in the usual pony tail. He had a short beard cut in the Amish style with no mustache. His eyes were bright and watchful of them even though it was obvious most of his fighting days were over, he was easily in his fifties and had as many scars as he did tattoos. He was dressed in the plain leather pants of the Clan with no other signs of his rank besides his markings. Clearly this was a King with no need of robes and gold trinkets to rule his people, and Logan's respect for him went up a notch. He watched with curiosity as his guests arrived but didn't speak just yet.

Logan assumed this was Cerebus, the leader of these Clan guys and he couldn't wait to get this over with. If Cerebus wasn't into riches, he must be more of a politician, and if so Logan hoped he wasn't sleazy or cruel. Logan knew he would have to be cool here and hopefully something could be worked out to get them home. No matter what the deal was, they wouldn't be slaves. He would die first.

Off to the side of Cerebus, both Fallen and Valentin were settling down on furs. They had just arrived as well through an alternative entrance in the back. They sat in a place that seemed reserved just for them, the furs they sat on were especially clean and layered for comfort. Judging by their posture and the way they were received, Fallen and Valentin were clearly of a high and special rank. Joseph and some of Valentin's other men were standing patiently behind them and not given the same comforts.

Standing beside the throned man was a tall warrior, impossibly white like Fallen, but completely human in his appearance. Oddly, he had no tattoos except the highly prized Honor Sword which blazed brightly on his white skin. He leaned casually against the throne and whispered in his Master's ear. He was certainly Cerebus' Second and in full authority here. He turned to the X-men once they were settled and spoke in a loud and clear voice. "Welcome, X-men, to the Hall of the Great and Mighty Cerebus!"

Cerebus leaned forward to inspect them. "You are the mighty warriors I've heard stories of?" He laughed contemptuously and glared at Valentin. "Seem a bit small and weak to me."

"Uncuff me and we'll see," Wolverine challenged, keeping the arrogance to a minimum. He was hoping a show of force might make a good impression and earn them a better bargaining position.

Surprisingly, Wolverine's wish was granted. His cuffs and the restraining collar were removed by two servants. He rubbed his wrists, feeling his strength return and smiled at his freedom. He cracked his neck and shoulders, loosening up and he wondered if he was going to have to fight the old man. It wouldn't have been much of a contest, Cerebus didn't look like he would last five minutes against him. It didn't take long for his unspoken question to be answered.

"Antius," Cerebus said.

Antuis, the white slave and Cerebus' Second, came down from behind the throne and approached Wolverine. He casually walked around the smaller man, looking him over. He bowed at Logan respectfully and stepped into a fighting stance, ready. Logan bowed back in equal measure, surprised by his opponent's show of respect and civility, Logan had thought such things as honor and respect were dead in this place. He moved into his own stance and waited. A heartbeat passed and Antius went to it. He lunged quickly, fists flying. Antius was very fast and nimble, quickly reminding Logan of Gambit's own moves. When they sparred, Gambit was difficult for Logan to beat because of his speed and quick reflexes and Logan usually had to wear him down. The same would probably prove true here.

This fight was more like a gentleman's sparring match to Logan than a real battle. Antius gave a clean fight and did nothing underhanded or unsportsmanlike, not like Valentin's use of trickery and street survival tactics. He was very skilled and Logan took to wondering just how old he was. He seemed young enough, but he had Fallen's same ageless qualities. Antius was very strong and matched Logan's thundering pounding with heavy fists of his own. He didn't tire quickly either and it was clear this wasn't going to be a fast fight.

They spun, twisted, hit and kicked, each taking the other's measure. The deciding factor was of course Logan's factor. His healing factor. He could recover from Antius' blows in a way his opponent could not. It took almost twenty minutes before Antius hit the floor for the first time. It wasn't the last. Down and down he went, never cursing or growing angry. He was patient the way a teacher is when he realizes the student has surpassed him and it's now just a matter of time before the match is over.

When Antius breathed his last conscious breath of the afternoon and lay in a crumpled heap at Logan's feet, Logan looked down at the first man he truly respected since they started this stupid adventure. "Not bad," Logan said, grinning at Cerebus and cocking an eyebrow. "Got anything better?"

Cerebus was finally impressed. He snapped his fingers and Antius was carried off to be cared for. Logan grumbled as the restraining collar was replaced around his neck, but again showed some patience and didn't fight it. He knew his returned healing ability alone wouldn't be enough to break them free of this place.

Cerebus had Logan seated and turned next to Valentin and Fallen. "You have done well. Come, Fallen."

She stood and knelt before him. Her movements were slow and pained, yet graceful and well practiced. Cerebus started to say something but a frown crossed his face. He'd seen the damage to her face and it displeased him. He turned his scowl on Valentin. "What is this? I was told nothing of any battle taking place."

"There was a disagreement," Valentin explained. He squirmed, uncomfortable. Cerebus was clearly the one man he actually feared.

"While I know Fallen can be somewhat spirited and correction may be at times necessary, I will not tolerate damage to my First Pilot! She should be able to fly without discomfort at any time."

"I beg your forgiveness, my Lord. It will not happen again."

"I should hope not." Cerebus turned now to Fallen who hadn't moved at all during this discussion. "Are you all right?"

She looked up at him, her chin up. "I am well, my Lord. Valentin's fists have done me no harm."

Logan was seated behind her now and he crossed his arms and shook his head with a snort. Why didn't she try to get Valentin called off? He had the feeling she could probably get Cerebus to do it. There was obviously something more going on here than he knew about.

Cerebus ignored Wolverine's rudeness, he spoke to Fallen instead. "Are you ready to fly for me again? I have need of you at Station Six."

"Yes, my Lord. I can depart at once."

"Very well, then. You may leave."

She bowed her head and rose stiffly, in pain. She turned and left, not meeting Logan's heated gaze as she passed.

Cerebus waited until she was gone and turned to Valentin who was still waiting. "You have done well, old friend. You will be rewarded. Is there anything you desire?"

"You know what I want."

Cerebus smiled. "Ah, yes. The pilot. Well, she still owes me a few more weeks. Perhaps when that is done you'll have what you ask for."

"Until then, I am ever at your service, my Lord."

Valentin was dismissed and walked out the way Fallen had gone.

Cerebus returned to his guests and looked at Wolverine in particular. "And you? Are you at my service?"

"That depends," Logan answered, once more rising to his feet to show he wasn't intimidated, collared or not. "We ain't gonna be no slaves. It's cool ya brung us out of the pens, but we ain't here ta fight no wars. Yer Valentin there made out like we was gonna just fall over fer ya, but that ain't happenin'. Not without a better reason than this," he said, tugging on the collar around his neck.

"Perhaps you haven't been properly informed of your situation. You are many miles from home. Not even in the same dimension. When you took that 'jump' on the Dognan ship you traveled across space and time, my friends. You are in our world now. You want to get home, you'll do as you're told."

Beast spoke up. "By what right have you taken us against our wills?"

"The right of survival. We are an oppressed society. The Dognan must be thrown down. The time to strike is very soon. We have only a few short weeks before the Dognan will send a large supporting army to defend what little they have left. We intend to make sure they have nothing to come home to. Once they see how we've driven them out, they will not return. There is nothing here for them. You will work with our strategists to prepare our defense. You will train our best warriors and I think you'll find the Clan learn very quickly."

"We ain't mercenaries," Wolverine growled.

"Of course, nor will you really be slaves. You will be well cared for and not chained as a proper slave would be. You will be instructors, teachers. It's for your own benefit really." He laughed when Logan cocked an eyebrow and snorted derisively again. "Don't believe me? Understand this. You defeat the Dognan here, it will prevent them from raiding your world as they do. Cerise has been the staging point for every raid on your Earth."

Logan just shook his head again. "How do we know that? Where's your proof?"

Cerebus was unaffected by Logan's attitude. "Don't want to take my word for that? All right, put that aside for the moment and let me offer this proposal. Anyone freed from the pens is usually expected to give a ten year term of service and they usually cheerfully agree. In your case, I'll make an exception. You help us fight, and not only will that term be waived, but I will see to it that you are returned home. Refuse, and I'll have you dumped back into the pens. Your choice."

Gambit wasn't the least bit pleased with how the conversation was going. Fighting a war, just or not, was not the way he had expected to earn a ride home. He was smart enough to know that not everybody came home from that kind of fighting. "Don' sound like much of a choice t' me, patron," he complained, speaking up for the first time.

"That's cuz it ain't," Wolverine answered. He turned to Cerebus. "We'll help ya out, but if you don't honor yer promise to bring us home, you will pay. Dearly." He popped his claws for emphasis, not caring that his hands split and bled to the floor.

Cerebus sneered, trying to hide his fear and surprise at Wolverine's hidden weapons. "I'm sure." He motioned to an aide. "Go with this man. He'll take you to be fed and quartered. We'll be seeing each other again soon."