Professor Charles Xavier, a man with financial resources of unknown depth, a man gifted with the most powerful mind on the planet earth, was now a man sitting outside a star cruiser waiting patiently while the rest of his team entered. Charles planned to ambush Corsair before he could enter the Starjammer. As the captain, Corsair was the last man to pass through the bay doors, or at least he should have been, had Xavier not grabbed him by the collar on his way. "I've been meaning to talk with you, Captain." Xavier stated, leading the man a distance away from the ship resting in the Shi'ar cruiser's docking bay. "I am grateful, of course, for you offering your assistance in this mission. However, I also understand that the last time your ship ventured this close to the M'Kraan Crystal it was almost unable to withstand the radiation." His thin eyebrows arched slightly, turning the statement into a subtle question.
Corsair looked over at the ship and shrugged. "I may be a do gooder now, Charles, but losing an occupation doesn't mean losing your wits too. Ch'od and Raza just finished installing the latest in Shi'ar shielding technology. Our Starjammer will be as safe a ride as this oversized bird cage we're in right now." Corsair noted Charles' attention lay entirely on the ship as he leaned in close to whisper "courtesy of the Majestrix herself."
The pirate laughed and slapped Charles on the shoulder while he sat momentarily stunned. "I was given to understand the Empress would not be helping us in this particular endeavor." He finally managed to mutter, turning yet another questioning eyebrow in Corsair's direction.
Corsair stood, burly arms crossed over his chest. "What can I say? Once a pirate always a pirate." His eyes twinkled mischievously, then he turned and began his walk back to the ship. "If it offends your delicate sensibilities Charles, just think of it as payment for services rendered." He shouted back over his shoulder.
Charles shook his head, and willed his hoverchair to follow after the captain. "You will never change, Corsair."
The man bit off a harsh laugh before he turned and punched in the commands to close the ships door. "Neither will you, Xavier, neither will you."
* * * * *
"He should have been here by now." Ailon muttered while tapping her elbow repeatedly against the back of her chair...a nervous habit inherited from her avion ancestors.
"Calm, councillor, always he has been one to arrive fashionably late to such meetings." A'nok replied, calmly sipping from his mug of krevsl.
"Indeed." A new figure stated from the suddenly open doorway. Moving into the room, his floor length cloak gleamed dully in the interior lights. He was outfitted in black body armor, an unfamiliar insignia gracing his chest plate alongside a medallion made of the Earth metal, copper. His downy hair hung longer than was traditional in Shi'ar society, falling just below his broad shoulders. He took a seat, gracefully, opposite the two councillors, allowing the light to play along one tattered scar running fully from ear to chin. "Greetings, Councillor Ailon..." he acknowledged, his opaque eyes invisibly shifting from her to her partner in crime, "A'nok". His mouth twisted up into a wry grin as his eyes rested on the second councillor. "You need not have feared, Ailon. I do not enjoy risking my life arranging meetings that I do not plan arriving at."
"And I," Ailon replied, letting her frustration drip off of every word, "do not enjoy risking my reputation by meeting with traitors of your reknown."
"And I do not enjoy testing my patience waiting for an end to this battle words." A'nok said slowly but firmly, causing Ailon to snap her mouth shut and the stranger to grin like the cat that ate the canary. "You must forgive her impatience Mird'lan, time moves slowly for the young."
"It seems to me, A'nok, that the young are also all too willing to forget past alliances in favor of more current situations." Staring at the young councillor, Mird'lan silently shifted forward, resting his weight on his ankles and knees. Stalking her like a predator.
Ailon would not be intimidated. "It seems to me, traitor, that age has addled your brains even further. Otherwise you would not dare attempt to threaten me on a Shi'ar imperial cruiser."
Mird'lan's stare remained steady, his grin widening like a Cheshire cat until it slowly broke and from deep in his throat a laugh escaped. "The young one has spunk, A'nok. She just might survive." A sudden look of shock passed over Ailon's features before they settled back into an impassive mask. "Now on to business?"
"Certainly." A'nok's normally passive voice built up some heat which smoldered behind his words and his blank stare. "But I do warn you, Mird'lan, you may be my brother, but betray me or the Shi'ar empire again and you will not live to see the outcome of your lies. The Empress does not forgive easily, and neither do I."
Their gazes locked for a brief instant, and that spark of fire seemed to jump to Mird'lan. "Brother, you know as well as I that I acted for survival, and if the Empress were willing to see past the blatantly obvious she would as well." Quiet now, calm slowly enveloped Mird'lan as he shifted his weight back into the comfort of his chair. "And I would not worry about killing me if I betray you, A'nok. For if I am wrong, none of us will survive to point the blame."
* * * * *
D'tar shuffled nervously down the hallway, peering over his shoulder occasionally to make sure that a certain green councilor was nowhere in sight. Finally, after what seemed like hours of treking the hallways, the Empress' suite loomed ahead, complete with two armed guards. "I am here to see the Empress." D'tar stated simply.
The guards exchanged quick glances, before turning back toward him. "The Empress does not wish to be disturbed." The guard on the left said, stepping menacingly toward the center of the doorway to the suite, ensuring that the light flashed evenly off the energy rifle he proudly carried.
"I am a councilor," D'tar attempted. "I bring urgent news that the Empress must hear immediately! The fate of the empire may very well rest on the information I carry." D'tar attempted to make himself appear taller and more important, while at the same time regretting that he did not take the time to make himself more presentable. Small tufts of down stuck out from his head in complete disarray. His council robe was rumpled, the sleeves rolled up and out of the way, and he had somehow managed to spill black ycijo juice across the imperial insignia. Even he had to admit, he did not look the part of a councilor. However, now was not the time to back down. His statement at least had the two guards looking warily between themselves. Neither wanted to be held responsible for the downfall of the empire. "Here, check my info disc!" D'tar exclaimed, holding out the identity plate that every member of the royal staff carried. Sticking it into the scanner alongside the suite doors, a holographic projection of D'tar, as well as some vital statistics appeared. The specific statistics displayed were different every time, so that an imposter would have almost no chance of knowing what information the disc's reader would be presented with.
After examining the display for a few moments, the guards had a tense conversation. Finally one of the guards turned to D'tar. "Wait here." He commanded, while the other guard slipped through the doors to the suite. After minutes that seemed like hours the guard returned, holding the door open just enough for one person to enter. "The Empress will see you, councilor D'tar. We apologize for any inconvenience."
D'tar nodded politely before he stepped through the door. "Of course, no inconvenience. One can't be too careful with everything that has been going on in the past few days." With that the guards nodded and closed the door behind him.
"You do not even realize the half of it, councilor." Lilandra responded to his statement in English from her seat across the room. Even from this distance D'tar could tell she had been crying. "This had better be worth my time, D'tar. You had better have something solid for me to hold against the skrull."
* * * * *
One thought ran through Scott's mind as he turned to look at his assembled team...Rescue missions are never easy. A reassuring mental caress reached out to him through his link with his wife, and he gave her a gracious smile before he focused back on the people before him. The question was a simple one of sorts, but so difficult to answer: who should he send on this rescue, there were just too many factors to consider.
The first face to meet his was Warren's. Archangel: quick thinker, fast mover, wings a disadvantage in the type of zero g environment we're working with. Next, Iceman: impulsive, quick to adapt, ice power too much of a risk in this type of radiation. Cecilia: shell power can protect her from radiation, medically trained, absolutely NO combat experience. Storm: no way of predicting how her powers will react to alien environment, level headed, strong leader. And on the list went, in seconds Cyclops had listed at least three attributes of each team member, hoping that either the good or the bad would win out. In under a minute Scott knew exactly who would be heading down to the Shi'ar moon. "Listen up people, we're about six minutes away from the point that Hank's estimated to be our safe drop off. I'm sending six of us down, the rest will wait here. Storm, you're taking Psylocke and Colossus. Nightcrawler, you're heading up the other team with Shadowcat and Phoenix. Understood?" Nods came around the room from all except one pair of burning red eyes.
"Y'forgot t'mention which team I'm goin' wit, Cyke." Cyclops turned to face the owner of that distinctive voice.
"You are staying here Gambit. This mission is too personal for you to be a part of. I cannot trust you to listen to orders in the best of times, I certainly can't now." Besides a muttered "fils de putain" the Cajun, thankfully, did not argue any further. "Now, as I was about to say, Jean and Psylocke will run relays between the teams and us. The plan, Kitty, is for you to keep everyone intangible long enough to reach the surface. Hank thinks that this area of disappearance is a halo, that once you pass through it you should be fine. Once you find Wolverine, Rogue, and Cannonball, Shadowcat will ferry them back to the shuttle and we are outta here. Kitty make sure that you grab an extra pack of fuel just in case."
"Time to go, kiddies." Corsair shouted over his shoulder as Raza brought the Starjammer to a standstill above the purple nova that was the M'Kraan moon.
"Then I would say this is it." Storm said, adjusting her helmet one final time. "I hope to see you soon my friends."
"Bring 'er back safe, Stormy."
"My friend, do not call me that." She said, anger creasing her brow momentarily before it softened, and she strode across the bay of the ship toward Gambit. "I will do my best." One hand stroked his cheek before she turned and disappeared through the airlock.
* * * * *
It seemed like hours, or maybe days. Sam could no longer tell the difference even between seconds and years. The only thing that kept up a constant flow was conversation, words fit logically into a pattern that he could follow. After all, you couldn't answer a question until it had been asked, and you couldn't elaborate on something until you'd said it. Or at least he thought that was true, it could be false and he'd just been fooling himself for the past few realities. He shook his head, trying to get a grasp on himself for the umpteenth time that he could remember. Up and down were colliding with sideways in his head. And this unpleasant color that Sam had deemed blurpow, because it looked like blue, purple, and yellow mixed together sort of, kept spinning and following him around, though he'd told it a hundred times he wasn't interested in buying a lawn mower. No, that wasn't right. If only he had a tail things would make much more noise.
* * * * *
"Jahf!" Wolverine shouted, after Sam fell down for about the fourth time. "Get over here, now!" The little blue alien scuttled over to the pair more slowly than Logan appreciated. "What's up with the kid, his pupils are dilated, he ain't focusin'." Just then Sam decided to drool all over Jahf's feet. "He won't stop droolin'."
"Do tell." Jahf answered, shaking his left foot disgustedly over the edge of the ribbon they were currently on. "I'm surprised this has taken so long to set in, your friend here is suffering from reality withdrawal."
"'Scuse me?" Wolverine sneered back.
"The human psyche is not strong enough to withstand being outside of reality for long periods of time, it starts to break down."
"Then what?"
Jahf sighed. "He'll either go stark raving mad, if he isn't already, and try to kill himself or his mind will seek a way to escape the strain, leading him, inadvertently, to any of a number of realities, instantly causing him to regain his sanity. However, I doubt we'll find him for quite a while.
Logan stood motionless for a minute while he processed Jahf's diagnosis. "How long we got till one of those things happens?"
Jahf took one last look at Sam. "In my estimation, three Earth hours, maybe four if we're lucky."
"And till it happens to me?" Logan continued.
"Perhaps six hours, which means your friends had better hurry, and so had I." With that Jahf turned wordlessly back to picking and plucking invisible strands in the air, searching for the one that was misbehaving.
* * * * *
"Chere, y'need to calm down, y'hyperventilatin', s'not good f'r de petite."
"Ah'll hyperventilate you, you dirty swamp rat." Rogue shouted, as she hurled yet another pillow at the helpless Cajun from where she hovered in the center of the room.
"Y'know, Hank said y'shouldn' be flyin' too much."
"Hank can kiss mah Mississippi ass!" She threw another pillow, this one shattering a window.
"Sooner or later we run out of pillows chere, why don' y'jus' calm down!" Remy shouted, agitated beyond the point where he could ignore it and keep playing nice.
"Cuz...cuz...cuz Ah'm gonna puke." Rogue groaned, barely making it to the toilet before she started heaving up things she remembered eating three months ago. "This is all your fault, yah know." She yelled between deep breaths as she sat back on her heels in front of the toilet.
"Nah-uh, I ain' takin' all de blame fer dis one. Way I 'member it, y'were enjoyin' every second, least dat's what I inferred from de way y'were screamin' my name." Remy remarked snidely, as he made his way around the room, cleaning up everything that had gone flying during Rogue's display.
"Well Ah'm glad one of us remembers it, cuz Ah sure as hell don't. All Ah remember is wakin' up to find out that Ah'm married and pregnant. Sorry if Ah'm a little bit upset, but last thing Ah remember was you tellin' me to fuck off cuz Ah didn' want y' goin' to New Orleans for tha weekend."
"Rogue what de hell are you talkin' bout?" Gambit shouted from the bedroom. "I haven' been ta N'Awlins in almost a year."
"Wonderful, now Ah'm even loonier than we thought!" Tears started to leak out her eyes, and drip into the toilet bowl below. An arm slowly wrapped itself around her, but she shook it off violently. "Don't Touch Me!" Turning she glared into the crimson eyes that met hers. "Don't you dare touch me! Ah don't even know you, Ah don't even remember evah touching you! Evah!"
The sound of a throat being cleared in the doorway caught the attention of them both. "Bad time?" Jean asked pleasantly, cocking her head to the side. "Rogue, honey, you look awful."
"Gee, thanks." Rogue replied, smiling sarcastically from her position cross-legged on the bathroom floor.
"Well if you don't mind, I need to steal him for our Danger Room session." Something in Jean's smile struck Rogue as being far more than innocent, and as much as she hated Gambit right then, he still belonged to her.
"Actually sugah, Ah was thinkin' about joinin' y'all. Wouldn' that be fun?" Rogue's smile turned sickeningly sweet.
"Cherie, you know y'not allowed in de Danger Room. Y'can hardly go ten minutes wit'out stickin' y'head in de toilet." Remy remarked, gathering his battle gear out of the closet.
"Ah was just gonna watch, sugah." She said, getting up and running one hand through Remy's silky hair. "Ah am still allowed ta do that, right?"
"'Course y'can watch, chere." Gambit said quickly, though which head was doing the answering Rogue wasn't entirely sure. "Dat ain't a problem, right Jean?"
"Not at all," Jean answered, glaring at Rogue as soon as Gambit turned his back. A glare which Rogue had no problem returning until Remy turned back toward them, and never before had Rogue been happier to see him wearing a shirt. "Let's go."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A/N: Well, I'm back again. Sorry, this took me awhile to put together.
Now I'm going to take a tactic from Neurotic Temptress and thank you guys who are reviewing. You take the time to review, so I should take the time to respond too, its only polite.
T.: How's this for more?
LadyLyte: Thank you, I've never been called exceptional before. But I wouldn't say exceptional...how about magnificent or beyond compare...oooh how about fantabulous?
Auroraraye: Thanks, I think I will keep it up. And I'm glad somebody FINALLY appreciates my sense of humor. At least now I know that somebody gets it. But I am very flattered.
Randirogue: Sorry bout that, didn't mean to shock you. I try to update when I can. oh, btw....voted for ya, let me know how it goes.