"It's going to be standing room only down there." Rachel looked around at her teammates as they made their way down to the War Room. " We haven't had a full staff meeting in," she paused, "forever."
Wolverine followed her down the steps. "Something's up. Scott and Emma have been more uptight than usual."
"As if that is possible." Northstar effortlessly passed them. He wasn't about to be stuck standing for one of Scott's notoriously long, dull meetings.
Bobby, at the bottom of the steps, laughed, "Riiiight. Coming from you! Then again, I guess a pro is the only one qualified to pass that kinda judgement."
"Coming from you, that's actually a compliment." Jean-Paul gave him a little sideways sneer as he passed him in hall. He entered the War Room, only to find that he was the first to arrive. He took a seat at the far end of the table. Scott was at the head console reviewing maps. That was a good sign. There was going to be a mission involved. Jean-Paul wasn't sure why he accepted the Professor's offer to come teach again. He hated teaching, hated kids, hated paperwork and hated how uptight the X-men were in general. But, when the missions did come around they were usually spectacular. He wouldn't have been called to the meeting if he wasn't going to be involved. The adrenaline junkie in him let a wiry little grin wrap across his lips.
The rest of the X-men filtered into the room. Extra seating had been dragged in from the lab. Bobby, Rachel and Logan took seats flanking Jean-Paul at the back of the table. Emma, Charles, Tessa and Jono entered, obviously engrossed in a mental conversation, their faces conveying the seriousness of their topic. They took seats at the head of the table, flanking Scott.
Rogue, Pete, Kurt and Rahne entered, laughing at Kurt's story about his last visit to his half brother in Australia. They all took seats on either side of the center of the table. Rogue scanned the room, obviously looking for someone in particular, before settling into her seat. Logan gave her a nod as her eyes passed over him. She returned the gesture with a weak smile and refocused on Kurt's tale.
Warren and Paige entered arm in arm, as usual, engrossed in a conversation about bed linens. Apparently, she wanted the twelve hundred thread count sheets and Warren only bought the eight hundred and in the wrong color. Warren grabbed two chairs from the back of the room and pulled them around the side, closer to Scott, offering one to his girl.
Danielle, Ororo and Kitty entered, discussing the most promising among their students. Logan shot a curious glance in Ro's direction as he heard Jay's name interjected amidst their conversation. Nothing negative, he was glad to hear. Kitty ruffled Kurt's hair as she passed him; old habits die hard, especially in this group. They took up seats in the back of the room.
Scott looked up from his console, scanning the nearly full room. He checked the time. "Hank and Sam should just be finishing up their classes. We'll get started in a few minutes." On cue, the two hurried into the room.
"Sorry, Scott. Took longer than I thought." Sam offered a breathless apology. He hated to be late.
"Not a problem, Sam. Looks like you two aren't the one's holding us up." Scott caught sight of the two empty chairs that remained.
"We're not missing anyone important, Scott. Might as well start without 'em." Rogue just couldn't resist a golden opportunity to take a jab at Gambit in front of the entire team. Logan shot her a hard stare. Jean-Paul, Bobby and Kurt rolled their eyes in unison, clearly tired of her constant onslaught of insults.
"We will not begin until the rest of my team has arrived." Ororo plainly stated. She did not want to place herself in the middle of the latest squabble between her dear friend and her adopted brother. But both of them sniping at each other was sorely testing her ample patience.
A few tense minutes later, Jubilee and Gambit sprinted into the room, in full uniform, sweaty and panting.
"Sorry folks, my bad. I forgot to set the timer again." Jubilee stopped short as she caught the stares of the entire senior staff. Usually, she enjoyed being the center of attention, but she got the distinct impression she just screwed up royally. She was expecting her team, not the whole freakin' staff.
"Fashionably late, as usual?" Jean-Paul shot Gambit an evil little grin
"Got a reputation to uphold, non?" He gave his bo staff a tap on the floor as it retracted. Rogue gave a disgusted 'tsk' and turned to face Scott. Paige smacked Jubilee across the thigh and shook a finger at her as she hurried past. Jubilee countered with a stuck out tongue. They quickly slid into the available seats next to Storm. Jubilee gave her team leader her best 'I'm sorry' pout accompanied by the 'soulful-puppy-dog-eyed' look she had been working on. Storm patted her hand and gave her a warm smile. Well, Scott did want everyone to train more often.
"Good." Scott stated flatly, impassive to the delay. He had more important things to focus on. A security camera image flashed onto the screen. Three boys were cautiously sniffing at, and tentatively eating, a late lunch in a mostly empty cafeteria.
"These were our uninvited 'guests' three nights ago. They're Neo, and they came here asking for our help. It would seem that Domina, and a few of her War Clan, survived the Genosha Massacre. And our previous suspicions about the existence of other Neo clans were true. The story these boys have to tell is..." he paused, his lips drawing in tight "...bad." Scott cast a wary glance around the room, saw that he had their full attention, even if he was catching a few suspicious expressions among those that had fought Domina before.
"There were five Neo clans. These boys represent three of them. I was just as suspicious as some of you, but, after some detailed conversations with myself, Emma and Charles, it was decided to give this our full attention. These boys report that their clans are being wiped out. Massacred for 'being unworthy'. Whatever that means. They came to us under Domina's direct order. Supposedly, the War Clan is on the run since they are the last clan left. And the boys have been unable to contact her through the channels she gave them."
Warren's face went pale as Scott presented his information. His thoughts began racing, the word 'massacre' was all he needed to hear for the flight muscles in his back to contract involuntarily with a quick jerk, then a shiver. His face twisted into a scowl as he turned his head to fix his gaze on Gambit, at the back of the room.
LeBeau was slumped way down in his seat, legs straight, crossed at the ankles, elbows propped up on the arms of the chair with his hands folded, fingers tightly intertwined, masking most of the lower part of his face. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, staring straight ahead, unblinking. He knew this moment was coming since the boys' first interview. The few days between then and now hadn't prepared him but, rather, fueled his inner turmoil. He could feel Warren's eyes on him, and a few others. He tensed, waiting for the accusations to begin, unsure of what he would do. What could he do? It didn't matter what he said or what he did to prove himself to these, his friends, his family, because the ghosts of the Morlocks Massacre would always find a way to haunt him. And here they were again, in the guise of three scared kids, bringing the old wound fresh to the surface.
Warren slammed his eyes shut, forcing his heated reaction down.
I'm past this. I forgave Gambit. This has nothing to do with The Morlocks. He repeated the words over and over in his head, shocked at the intensity of his reaction. He really thought he was over this. I'm past this. I forgave Gambit. This has nothing to do with The Morlocks. At least, it better not.
"Owww..." Paige was looking at him, a small, pained expression on her face. Her wide eyes then looked down at her hand. He was squeezing it so tight both of their knuckles were white. He quickly released her hand, mouthing a weak 'sorry' in condolence.
The Professor immediately sensed a flush of strong emotion. He gave Warren a quietly concerned look. Warren just shook his head and turned his attention back to Scott. Charles stole a quick glance in Gambit's direction. As always, the Cajun was unreadable, his mental shields tighter than ever but his posture and the lack of expression spoke volumes about his state of mind. He would make it a point to talk with him after the meeting. Scott noted the silent exchange and the tension he expected this all too familiar scenario to cause. Hopefully, barreling into the details would bring their focus back to the present.
"These are satellite photos of three of the locations the boys described..."
"Wait, " Hank interrupted, nudging Scott away from the console "I should have received the last image by now." Hank took a minute or two, tapping away at the keyboard, then added a fourth image to Scott's presentation.
"Thanks." Scott scanned the folders in front of him as satellite images flickers on the screen. "There's not much to see. One was a derelict ship not far off the coast of Oregon, that was ditched when the battle went south. Of the ones we have visuals on, two are mainly underground but the third shows some signs of a fight." A quiet, strangled 'gasp' passed around the room as the fourth image flickered onto the screen. What was most likely a small secluded compound in the woods could now only pass for charcoal. Scott panned out on the image. The ground in a quarter mile radius was blackened and apparently still smoldering. A large crater gaped at the far northern edge of the destruction, revealing an underground level that had apparently been breached from above.
"Mein gott! Vhat are ve looking at, Scott? Vere dere people here?" Kurt was perched on the edge of his chair, the familiar knot in his stomach reminding him that he already knew the answers and that they weren't going to be good.
"This was supposed to be the compound that Domina retreated to with the rest of her clan." Scott rifled through his notes from his conversations with the boys. " Between the War Clan and the surviving members of the other clans the boys estimated that there were about one hundred and twenty people there. Most of them children, all mutants." Kurt made the sign of the cross and said a silent prayer.
"Who?" Logan's low, throaty grumble was the only sound that could sum up each one of their feelings at the moment. Scott looked to Emma as she stood and picked up the briefing.
"All we have to go on are the recollections of these boys." Emma explained. "Charles and I have examined them thoroughly and this is all we could piece together."
Scott was already punching up the program. The screen flickered as the rough, holographic animation of Friction's memories, then Daedelus', played on the screen.
"These are our bad guys. " Scott placed side-by-side comparisons of the aggressors on the screen. Both boy's memories showed a group of five individuals, coated in a black swirling energy with a sixth figure, entirely composed of that energy, hovering just behind them, as if directing them. Both battle scenes depicted a disturbing array of powerful mutant abilities. The largest figure among them seemed to be packing the most power being huge, unreasonably strong and controlling some sort of bio energy. Another was shorter by comparison, but wide, and bulldozed his way through opponents. Another seemed to have some sort of elemental control, and another dropped opponents with nothing but a gesture. The last mimicked every mutant power thrown at her plus a few that had not been employed on the battlefield. All were expertly skilled in hand to hand combat. The hovering figure in both scenarios seemingly did nothing but watch the battle.
The only discrepancy in the two accounts was in Daedelus' memories; in that, the strongest figure directed a powerful bio energy burst at the hovering figure above who absorbed it without reaction or consequence. The black energy encasing them all absorbed every form of energy that encountered it. In the end, the hovering figure, the one Recoil named Death, was the last one remaining on the battlefield. The Neo and the 'Old Ones' simply seemed to collapse into the black swirling energy in which they were all encased and vanished.
"While I questioned Recoil, this Death figure made an abrupt appearance in my mind." Emma's eyes abruptly shot to her feet as her voice dipped lower "I did not sense her. I cannot trace her." Emma paused. She caught her own reaction with a twinge of repulsion. She squared her shoulders, hardened the glare in her eye and looked up with a dramatic flip of her platinum blonde tresses. "Charles, Jono, Tessa and I have spent the last three days collectively trying to trace this telepath with no success whatsoever."
Marvel Girl twisted uncomfortably in her seat. Of all the gall. All this talk of a telepath and a threat yet Emma still could not see past her own arrogance to ask for her assistance. Of all people. Emma requested Tessa's help. Pulled her in from God knows where to assist her, no less. Rachel's anger was growing, becoming a palpable thing that flared to life in her eyes as she glared at Emma in disgust. Only as one of Ahab's hounds did she experience the levels of hate that Emma could spur her towards. And the fact that Emma still had that kind of effect on her, in turn, deepened the intensity of the dark emotions, whipping them into a vicious circle that threatened to consume her on the spot.
Logan felt Rachel's wave of anger long before any physical sign of it appeared. The tiny scrap of Phoenix force that her small frame housed still provoked, in him, the same intense reactions to her emotions that her mother's did. He put a strong arm around her shoulder and pulled her in tight, hugging her to his side. She would never find a way to coexist comfortably with Emma. He stared down at her until she finally raised her chin to meet his warm gaze. Her eyes were ablaze and filled with angry tears. He pulled her in tighter, and placed his hand in her hair to guide her head to his shoulder. She initially resisted, wanting desperately to lash out, but finally acquiesced, squeezing her eyes tight as her head lulled into Logan's embrace.
"We are fairly sure these are mutants we have not encountered before and, according to Tessa, there are no recorded instances of individuals even vaguely matching these descriptions anywhere on the planet. We do not know if these Neo clans are actually dead since they all seem to have been unquestionably removed from the scene. But the boys are adamant, and their memories are too well imprinted to be anything but the truth as they witnessed it." With this final statement, Emma took her seat.
The screen flashed back to the security camera on the boys in the cafeteria.
"Teleporter." Kitty and Kurt said it at the same time. They passed each other a knowing glance. "Dey vill be hard to track if one of dem is a 'porter, and, by de look of it, a powerful one." Kurt finished the thought.
"My thought, too." Scott resumed. "We are going to start at the beginning. Recon and report. It seems we have already missed our window of opportunity for a rescue." Scott gathered his papers, with a small shake of his head. I should have reacted quicker. Emma caught his self debasing thought.
I don't think it would have mattered. she tried to reassure him.
We'll never know now, will we?
"I've shuffled the teams a bit. I'll head Alpha team with Emma, Logan, Kitty, Hank, Bobby. Storm, you'll head Beta team with Remy, Jono, Pete, Kurt and Jubilee. Warren, Gamma team with Paige, Rogue, Rachel, Rahne and, for this mission, Sam." Scott caught Northstar's attention with a half nod in his direction. " Jean- Paul, I need you to coordinate with all three teams. All the sites we need to recon are in North America and I'd like for you to recon the Oregon site too, just in case there's something we missed on the satellite images." He glanced around the room. "Everyone, coms stay open on this one. We stay in touch, just in case." His teams were more than ready. They were all steeled for a fight, as angry as he was at the apparent loss of life they were about to confront. Sure, they were all itching for a good fight lately but not with these stakes. Not with so much needless loss. Again.
"We leave in an hour, people." Cyclops, the stalwart leader of the Xmen, summoned his command voice. Authoritative. Decisive. Emotionless. His ruby quartz visor, once again, masking the pain that only reflected in his eyes.