Raza nodded grimly. "What is thy plan?" he asked.
"As long as it means we're getting outta here, I'll be a happy camper," Rogue said, shivering. "I don't like it down here one bit, girl."
"You be okay, chere," Gambit said, pulling her close. "Ol' Remy, he here to protect you."
"Time for that, later, Gambit. Let's just get Scott and the others out of here, okay?" Warren said, and Jean silently thanked him.
"If the Guard is up there, we're in for a hell of a fight," she began. "But we better be prepared for it, because you know we're not getting off planet without going up against them again. If they're not there, on the other hand, this should all go pretty smoothly.
"Gambit, Rogue will lift you to where you can touch the ceiling. I need you to give it the biggest charge you've got ..."
"Jean," Gambit said, shaking his head. "You know I do whatever you say, but a charge like dat gonna drain me good. Be five,ten minutes fore I can fire up again."
"Whatever it takes, Remy," Jean said sincerely.
"Rogue, you and Warren take the fight to the Shi'ar immediately. I don't want a second wasted. If the Imperial Guard aren't there, it'll just be Deathbird's personal sentries. Between the two of you, I don't expect we'll hit much resistance. If so, we'll be right behind you."
"Jean," Kam-Lorr interrupted, using her name for the first time. "If these two meet more than mild resistance, we'll be easy targets trying to climb up into the room."
"You won't have to climb, Kam-Lorr," Jean said.
The Kree rebel began to speak again, but Jean held up a hand.
"You'll just have to trust me. We don't have time for this," she said. "It's been dark outside for hours now. At dawn, they die. We can't allow that. Everyone back down the tunnel ten feet, except for Gambit and Rogue."
Rogue bent and Gambit stepped into her clasped hands. She boosted him to the ceiling and he laid both palms on the jagged stone. Asmany times as Jean saw mutants work their magic, use their special abilities, it never ceased to amaze her. First Gambit's hands, and then the stone above them, began to glow with an orange light. That glow spread along the rock, ten feet on either side, to just in front of where Jean stood.
She had a moment to marvel at the trust Remy had placed in her. Rogue would not be badly hurt even if the entire building collapse on her. But other than his power and his fighting prowess, Remy LeBeau was just a man. The fragments of the Great Hall's floor would crush him to death. If Jean let that happen. Though he had always been tough to read, the trust Gambit placed in her spoke volumes for Jean about his place in the X-Men. He was one of them, now. No question.
"Dat's it!" Gambit hissed, and Rogue pulled him down and lay on top of him, protecting him with her body. Jean didn't take it as an insult, but as a gesture of Rogue's love for Remy.
It wasn't necessary, however. The ceiling exploded, blasting the Great Hall's floor up into the room, and showering tons of stone down into the tunnel. Almost all of which Jean caught in a telekinetic net. She felt the weight in a nearly physical sense, and the strain was painful but far from the worst she had felt. With an enormously powerful psychic shove, Jean used her mind to push all of the debris to one side, making a graded ramp of crushed stone that the Kree rebels could use to enter the Great Hall.
Rogue and Archangel flew up through the hole the instant the debris was clear, and the rest of them followed on foot. Jean, Raza, and Kam-Lorr entered the Great Hall simultaneously, nearly twenty Kree rebels at their backs, and the room was already in chaos.
In the light of chandeliers powered by Shi'ar technology, Jean could see the grand balconies and stained glass windows of the Hall, which reminded her of nothing so much as the Catholic cathedrals she had seen on Earth. Deathbird's throne sat on a dais on the uppermost balcony, so that no one in the room would be higher than she. Jean realized that the woman had been holding court. The Great Hall was filled with Shi'ar citizens and dozens of soldiers. Screams and shouts echoed throughout the room, and the citizens made for the exits.
Though she assumed that they were not far—not when an ego the size of Deathbird's was holding court—Jean was extraordinarily relieved to see that Gladiator and the other Guard members were conspicuously absent. Archangel flashed through the upper reaches of the Hall, wing knives flashing out and taking down soldier and citizen alike. Jean felt a stab of sadness for Warren, knowing that he was not intentionally paralyzing the innocent citizens in the room. Archangel simply did not have enough control over his wings.
Rogue plowed through a small corps of soldiers who stood no chance against her. Kree rebels met Shi'ar soldiers in open combat, hand to hand where necessary. It was an incredible diversion, exactly what they needed. She did not want to chance using her powers in case Oracle was very close by, and she had to hope that she would be able to contact Scott using very little power, relying on their rapport.
Though the Shi'ar numbers were increasing, the Kree rebels seemed to be winning. They might even be able to hold the Great Hall if they could defeat those Shi'ar soldiers already in the room. There was only one problem.
Deathbird. She had stood, gape-mouthed, at the foot of her throne, stunned into inaction by the audacity of their attack. Jean had hoped the X-Men and Raza could sneak away, rescue Scott and the others and be back in time for the Kree rebels to retreat, which they would inevitably have to do.
That wasn't going to happen.
Deathbird had seen them.
From her high seat, she looked down at Jean with hate in her eyes. She sputtered furiously, and Jean reveled in the tyrant's surprise. She smiled up at Deathbird, and basked in the venom that dripped from her voice as Deathbird screamed, "You!"
"Kill her if you can!" Kam-Lorr shouted to his fellow rebels.
That's our cue, X-Men, Jean thought, sending the message to Raza, Warren, Remy and Rogue. She no longer cared if Oracle sensed her presence. With Deathbird already aware of them, the Imperial Guard would be along any moment.
She led the others to a back stairwell that Kam-Lorr had shown them on the Capitol Building's blueprints. It led down to the prison levels,which were a labyrinth of hallways and cells. But she knew that Cyclops was down there somewhere, with Corsair, Hepzibah, and Candide.
Scott, my love, Jean thought, putting all her strength and emotion into the telepathic message, where are you?
Chapter 13
Late afternoon in the Colorado Rockies. Breezy, peaceful, birds chittering in the forest as the shadows grew long. Any other day, it might have been all those things. On this day, however, it was nothing short of chaos, and closing in on disaster.
The moment the X-Men had passed through the force field surrounding Operation: Wideawake's mountain base, the Acolytes had appeared from within the low, simple building which served to mask the complex beneath. When the Acolytes appeared, the force field surrounding the base evaporated. And they all knew, then, what the field had been. Knew who was behind the takeover of the facility, and the Sentinels inside.
"Magneto," Wolverine growled, though he could not see the Acolytes' master anywhere.
"Oh shit," Iceman whispered beside him.
Time seemed to halt a moment, as the X-Men and Acolytes faced each other down over fifty yards of wind-bent grass. For Wolverine, it called to mind that high noon in Tombstone, when the Earps faced down the Clantons. It was almost as if he could hear the melee, see the violence shimmering in the air, smell the bloodshed, all in that moment.
The Acolytes were more dangerous, more vicious, more disturbing than most of the enemies the X-Men had faced over the years, for one reason. To them, it was jihad, Holy War. To die for Magneto would be the greatest honor they could imagine. Wolverine knew what it was like to lose all sense of self-preservation. He knew how dangerous he became when the fervor of a berserker rage came over him. It was similar, in its way, to their devotion to Magneto. It was blind rage.
The X-Men had always been noble and benevolent. It had been, in large part,
due to his involvement with them that Wolverine had been able to keep the savage beast inside of him at bay. But there were times, as the Acolytes had proven to them in the past, where nobility was secondary to victory. It had been a hard realization for all of them. All but him. Wolverine had been saddened to realize it was a lesson he had never had to learn.
If savagery was what it took, that was all right with him. For Wolverine, it was like the intimate, knowing kiss of an old love: bittersweet, unwelcome, exhilarating.
All of which occurred to him in that moment when time stood still, when Iceman still stood jaw agape at his side and Storm locked eyes with Amelia Voght across the field. Voght was no madwoman like the others, but her face showed the fierce resolution with which she followed Magneto. Wolverine watched her mouth form the words, the command that broke the silence, shattered frozen time, sent birds flapping from the trees.
"Acolytes!"she commanded. "Destroy them!"
The seven Acolytes surged forward, the Kleinstock brothers merging into one. The X-Men responded in kind. Wolverine saw Storm call lightning down on the merged Kleinstocks, who took flight themselves to battle her. Iceman blasted Cargil with a hail of knife-sharp icicles. Out of the comer of his eye, Wolverine saw Bishop flattened by Unuscione's exoskeleton.
Two of them rushed to attack Wolverine: the hulking Javitz, whose ruined left eye was obscured by a red bandanna tied across it, and the hooded Senyaka, whose psionic whip even now flashed toward him. Logan barely tensed, and his adamantium claws burst once more through the flesh between his knuckles, already streaked with his own blood.
"Only the strong will survive the Mutant Empire!" Senyaka snarled as his whip whisked toward Wolverine's face.
"Guess you're out 0' luck, then, bub," Logan said, sidestepping the whip and slicing through its psionic length.
Senyaka cried out and staggered back, but Wolverine knew from experience that he would be off-balance only for a moment. But a moment would be all he needed.
"True mutants follow the lord Magneto!" Javitz bellowed, his voice a rumbling bass.
The big mutant moved much faster than Wolverine had expected, and his first swing connected with Wolverine's left cheek. His teeth clacked together and he allowed himself to stumble into a backward somersault, then came up to face Javitz again. Logan spit blood, the wounds in his mouth already healing, and dove for his prey.
"Time for the ol' Canucklehead to give you a right eye to match the left," he growled. "When I'm done with ya, you'll have to read your comic books in Braille."
Javitz grabbed for Wolverine's extended left arm, which was precisely what he wanted the huge Acolyte to do. It was a feint that had worked many times before. No matter how hard Javitz squeezed, he could never break Logan's adamantium bones. All the fool had done was give him an opening to slash.
His claws sliced the wind, and then the taut muscle and tendon of the shoulder and arm that were holding Wolverine aloft. Javitz screamed, loud and long, but miraculously, he didn't let go. In a flash, he had Wolverine's other arm, and was holding those flashing claws, glinting in the sunshine, away from him.
With his enhanced senses, Wolverine scented Senyaka on the cool breeze, heard the low crackling of his whip, even before the mutant was within range. Such was Javitz' strength, however, that he was unable to get out of the way. The psionic whip coiled around his neck, and Wolverine roared in pain. Where it touched his skin, the whip burned. His flesh blackened and Logan smelled it cooking. His limbs began to slow, reacting belatedly to the whip's paralyzing effect.
He looked up into Javitz' smiling face, and just completely lost it. The berserker rage was on him, now. There was no holding back anymore. With all of his strength, he thrust his forehead up into Javitz' face, the head butt smashing the Acolyte's nose. Blood spurted and Javitz lost his grip. Wolverine hit the ground, adrenaline and healing factor surging together to overcome the paralyzing whip. He reached behind his head and twined his arms in the burning touch of Senyaka's mind.
And yanked.
Senyaka flew, but in his rage and pain, Logan paid no attention to where the hooded Acolyte might land. Javitz, furious and bleeding from face, neck and shoulder, came at Logan again. This time, Wolverine was ready for him, operating on fevered primal energy. He ducked Javitz's swing, and raked his claws across the tall mutant's rib cage, spilling fresh blood onto the grass.
Javitz fell, and did not get up again.
Logan looked around, hISferal senses testing the air. Nearby, the Beast had AmeliaVoght in his grasp. Hank held the woman aloft, trying in vain to talk sense into her. Wolverine tensed to rush them, to show the Beast how to deal with these psychotic mutant terrorists.
But Hank and Amelia disappeared.
"Amelia! No!" he heard the Beast shout above him.
Above him.
Wolverine looked up, just in time to see Voght and the Beast failing, perhaps a hundred twenty yards in the air. Then Voght teleported away, and Hank McCoy was falling to his death. In a moment, the rage had gone, and Wolverine was in motion. In his peripheral vision, he saw Amelia pop up next to the unconscious Javitz, then both of them disappeared.
Still, the Beast fell. Wolverine's healing factor had kicked in, but the burns on his neck were still there, still hurt, and the charred skin cracked and tore as he moved. His legs pumped hard and he looked up to see that Hank was almost to the ground.
Hank McCoy had eight inches on him, and at least one hundred and fifty pounds. Logan knew he could cushion the Beast's fall, that he wouldn't die, that his adamantium skeleton would not give way. That was something, at least.
"This is gonna ..." he started to say, and then he was under the Beast, and his arms were up. McCoy's blue furred body slammed into his arms and chest and drove him to the ground. Logan lay there, wind knocked out of him, his entire body beginning to bruise even as his neck healed.
Hank rolled off of him and groaned.
"We're accomplishing nothing," the Beast said. "Time for some tag team action."
"We're getting somewhere," Logan replied. "They're down to four, or five, depending how you count the Kleinstocks."
• • •
"Lord Magneto!" Amelia Voght cried as she appeared in the cornman center.
Magneto started in his chair, stunned by her sudden appearance. Voght knelt on the floor next to Javitz, who was bleeding profusely from wounds on his neck and chest. The slash marks told their own story, and a sudden fury filled Magneto.
"Wolverine!" he hissed through gritted teeth. "I have always hoped the X-Men would see the light, would see the flaws in Xavier's dream. But that man has tried my patience once too often. There will come a time, I can see, where his potential usefulness does not balance the pain and damage I have suffered because of him. I wonder if he knows the harm I could do him. I wonder if he cares."
Voght only looked at him, wide-eyed, then back down to Javitz. Magneto knew she was right, that indulging his anger was foolish. Javitz was not the most intelligent of his Acolytes, but even in his ignorance, the one-eyed giant had been one of Magneto's most loyal followers. To him, Magneto might as well have been God. Magneto knew that faith had to be repaid.
"I will try," he said simply.
While raw power had always been his strength, over the past few years, Magneto had attempted to learn precision as well. And precision was certainly necessary here. By manipulating the iron content of Javitz' blood, he forced the mutant's life fluids to coagulate. While the wounds were still grievous, they were covered in a crust of dried blood in mere moments.
Voght stood quickly, but Magneto stopped her.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"I am field leader," she answered. "I must return to the battle."
"No need," Magneto said. "The Sentinels will be ready in a moment. Stay and care for Javitz, then we will leave together."
• • •
The tide had turned. Storm had been handily beating the merged Kleinstock brothers, easily
matching their plasma bursts with the lightning that was hers to command. They flew, and joined, their strength was far greater than her own. But Ororo Munroe controlled the wind itself, and so there was no chance that the Kleinstocks would get near her if she did not wish it.
And she most certainly did not wish it.
Storm blasted the merged brothers with gale force winds that shot them out over the forest where they crashed into the treetops. Before moving to help her teammates, Ororo wanted to be certain the Kleinstocks were down for the count. Gathering the winds around her, glorious aloft, weightless in the sky, she glided high over the trees. There was movement in the branches below, and she squinted in the dimming sunlight of near dusk to see what had happened to her enemy.
A plasma blast jetted from the cover of the treetops, burning branches away as it shot toward her. Storm's control over the weather was as fundamental to her as breathing, as speaking. She moved without thinking, but still the blast hit her thigh, singing her badly. Stunned, she fell toward the trees, but recovered quickly.
As she regained her equilibrium, she saw the merged Kleinstocks flying at her from the forest, blasting her again. This time, she dodged easily, and lightning flashed from the sky at her nearly subconscious call. It struck, and only then did she realize that the Kleinstocks had shrunk. A heartbeat later, she knew what that meant.
They had separated.
Storm spun in the air and saw the other of the twins rushing toward her, yards away, clearly hoping for a surprise attack that would likely have ended her life. She evaded his plasma blast, but his brother had already recovered and was rising into the air on the other side. Storm called icy sleet down from the skies on either side of her, slicing at her enemies.
Then she flew back toward the others, hoping for reinforcements. At the edge of the field, Iceman was attempting to keep Cargil,whom they had once known as Frenzy, at bay. But the woman was far too powerful, and continued to shatter whatever Bobby threw at her. Storm wanted to help, but she had to deal with her own problems first.
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