X-Men

by Stuart Moore

  Instantly a wind rose. Storm wafted upward, staying strictly within the crater’s bubble of atmosphere. She pointed toward a clutch of ruins, and veered off in that direction.

  “Come on,” Cyclops said.

  Jean hesitated. She looked back at the spires, where the Imperial Guard were located. “Maybe…” She gestured at the spires. “Maybe I should just let them…”

  “No,” he said, and reached out his hand. She grimaced, nodded, and grabbed hold. Together they ran, following Storm deeper into the ruins of the Blue Area.

  * * *

  WOLVERINE LED his team down a ramp, through a low-ceilinged corridor. Cables and wires hung loose on all sides, covered with a thick layer of dust. Remnants of the alien technology that had helped create this place.

  I got a bad feelin’ in my gut, Logan thought. This ain’t gonna be one of those fun historic moon landings.

  Nightcrawler teleported ahead and looked around. He motioned for Wolverine and Colossus to follow.

  “It is growing darker,” Colossus said. “Should we not—”

  “Quiet!” Logan hissed. The hairs on his neck stood up. He’d picked up a scent, one that set off every alarm inside him. Definitely alien. With a hint of… machine oil. A robot, maybe?

  Whatever it is, it ain’t human.

  Nightcrawler ’ported ahead again—then let out a yelp. Logan peered past him. The corridor widened out in front of them, the ceiling curving upward. A huge, metallic shape filled the passageway.

  “Terrestrial beings.” The creature’s voice was deep, filtered. “We are Warstar. We offer you a choice: honorable surrender, or honorable death.”

  “Colossus,” Logan said, “this Lost in Space reject looks like it’s up your alley. Back you up?”

  “My pleasure, tovarisch.”

  Colossus marched forward, his footsteps shaking the tunnel. He pulled back and slammed a metallic fist into Warstar’s stomach. The guardsman doubled over, began to fall backward—

  —and split in two. As the Warstar body wobbled, regaining its footing, a second creature leaped out of its neck, leaving the body headless.

  “Take care of the metal man, C’cll,” the small creature said. “The hairy one is mine.”

  “As you say, B’nee.” The other voice was muffled, emanating from somewhere within the large metal body.

  The smaller Warstar—B’nee—launched itself straight toward Wolverine. “Logan!” Nightcrawler called. “There are two of them!”

  Logan smiled, unsheathed his claws, and slashed out. B’nee twisted in midair, but Logan tagged him across the midsection. Claws screeched against metal, sending sparks shooting up.

  “Nightcrawler!” Logan called. “Help Pete with that cut-rate Sentinel.”

  “As you say, mein—”

  Nightcrawler’s words ended in a strangled cry. Wolverine whirled to see him gasping, a brightly sparking whip coiled around his neck. Farther down the corridor, silhouetted in darkness, Hussar—the crimson Guardsman—jerked the whip hard, lifting Nightcrawler up off his feet.

  “Stop struggling, Terran,” Hussar said. “You’re no match for my neuro-whip.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Wolverine saw B’nee—the junior half of Warstar—lunging for another attack. He sheathed his claws and jabbed out with his elbow, slamming the small being into the corridor wall.

  Hussar flexed her whip. Nightcrawler flailed in its grip, then landed hard on the cavern floor. The whip uncurled from his neck, retracting as if it were alive. The blue-furred X-Man grunted once and went still.

  One down already, Logan thought. They know all about us— an’ we’re literally fighting in the dark.

  Colossus traded blows with C’cll, the Warstar host body. They seemed almost evenly matched—but C’cll was backing the X-Man slowly, steadily toward the wall. Wolverine sprinted toward them, loosed his claws, and raked them all the way down C’cll’s back.

  Can’t penetrate that armor! What the hell is it made of?

  He glanced down the corridor. Hussar was moving toward them, smiling, snapping her whip in the air.

  “Pete,” Logan called, leaping around in front of C’cll. “One-two.”

  Colossus reared back his fist, preparing to strike. Logan sheathed his claws and punched the creature’s midsection, at the exact moment Colossus struck its chest. C’cll tottered and fell.

  Logan’s fist hurt like hell. “That thing’ll be back on its feet in a minute.” He started back up the passageway. “C’mon.”

  Colossus hesitated. “But Kurt—”

  “He’s down. If he’s alive, they won’t hurt him anymore… those are the rules. If not…” Logan saw Hussar approaching, noticed B’nee picking itself up from the floor. “We gotta get back out in the open—they got all the advantages down here. Let’s go!”

  Turning, he ran upward, toward the surface. Colossus followed reluctantly, his pace heavy but even.

  Logan heard the sound first, muffled by layers of rock. He was about to speak when Colossus turned to him. “What is that?” Peter asked.

  “Cyke’s optic beams. Up topside.” Wolverine grimaced. “Hope he’s doin’ better than we are—”

  He stopped dead in the passageway, holding out an arm. Colossus slammed into it with the full weight of his massive steel body. Logan grunted, shook off the pain, and turned to face the new threat.

  A red-and-blue figure stood blocking their way, just ahead. Its tall Mohawk was silhouetted against the light leaking down from the surface.

  “Sadly,” Gladiator said, “you will never know how your comrades are faring.”

  “Tovarisch?” Colossus moved up against Wolverine. “Your orders?”

  Logan tensed, crouching down.

  “Snikt,” he said aloud.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ON THE surface, the battle had gone wrong from the start. Cyclops stood in a clearing, firing pulsed optic beams up into the sky. Starbolt, a fiery red-and-gold member of the Imperial Guard, dodged them easily, dipping and swooping in the air. He let out a stream of flame from his fingertips, scorching the ground less than a yard from his target’s darting figure.

  Jean braced herself against a half-destroyed temple. Oracle hovered just above, hands raised to her temples. Their struggle was invisible, waged on the mental plane, but Jean was clearly losing the battle.

  The Guard, Storm realized. They can all fly! That gives them a tremendous advantage. She rose up into the air, spotting a new enemy. A hulking gray being with an enlarged forehead stalked toward her, shaking the ground. Storm reached out, struggling to gather enough air to form a windstorm. The gray figure paused and shook its head against the gale, but continued forward.

  No good. The atmosphere is just too thin.

  She rose higher, staying out of its reach. The newcomer didn’t pursue her into the air, didn’t even look up at her. When it reached a point just below her hovering figure, it crouched down and touched the crater’s surface. Too late, she remembered the Guardsman’s name.

  Earthquake.

  The ground trembled and collapsed. Layers of moondust, of decayed flooring from some long-destroyed building, crumbled and fell. Storm spread her arms and rose up into the air, instinctively moving away from the newly created pit.

  “Good work, ’Quake,” Starbolt called. “Now stand aside!”

  Storm whirled—and saw Starbolt hovering in midair, holding Cyclops’s struggling figure in his hands. As she watched in horror, the Guardsman reached up and hurled Cyclops down into the pit.

  For a split second, Storm hesitated. Then she whirled in midair—only to hear Jean’s voice in her mind.

  Go. Save him!

  She dove down into the pit, dodging sparking cables, shards of machinery. The ruins of whatever civilization had lived here, uncounted eons ago.

  “Scott,” she called out. “Go limp!”

  The bottom of the pit was coming up fast. She stretched her hand out, willing the wind to speed her passage. At th
e last moment she grabbed hold of Cyclops’s leg, arresting his fall, and spread her cape to catch the updrafts. Their descent slowed.

  “Thanks,” Cyclops said.

  She drew him close, reaching out with her power to reverse the wind currents. Slowly, the two of them started to rise.

  “Jean—” Cyclops coughed. “She’s alone up there.”

  They burst up out of the pit. Storm caught sight of Jean, backed up against the temple. Oracle and Starbolt hovered side by side above her, projecting mental assaults and flame-bolts at her. Jean was barely keeping them at bay with a flickering psi-shield.

  “Storm!” Cyclops wrenched himself free of her grip, leaping toward the ground. “Look out—”

  Ororo whirled around in midair. A lean woman hovered nearby, her white bodysuit shrouded by a swirling black-and-yellow cloak. Her face seemed almost featureless in the dim alien lighting. The woman— Manta, Storm remembered—spread her cloak open wide. A blinding flash of light enveloped Storm, frying her nerve endings. She struggled to remain airborne, to remain conscious.

  I can’t, she thought. I cannot fail Jean now. Not after all we’ve been through! But she had no choice. Storm reeled, stars pinwheeling before her eyes. Then she tumbled and fell to the ground, unconscious.

  * * *

  WOLVERINE’S LEG muscles pumped, propelling him up through the shadowy passageway. Behind, he could hear the thundering blows being traded by Colossus and Gladiator.

  Hope Petey’s okay, he thought. He hated to leave Colossus behind—but he’d received another summons, an urgent telepathic call for help. Jean’s voice, echoing in his mind.

  Logan, it’s Scott. They’re killing him.

  Hang on, Jeannie. I’m comin’!

  The corridor began to lighten as he approached the surface. Logan braced himself. He thought of Colossus, facing off against the most experienced member of the Guard, and of Nightcrawler’s unmoving body, helpless in the cavern below.

  This battle is only goin’ one way. An’ it ain’t ours.

  He reached the end of the tunnel and leapt through the jagged opening. He landed in a crouch in the open air, all his senses on high alert. The first thing he saw was Storm’s body, laid out on the crater’s surface.

  Damn, he thought. ’Roro, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to check on you later.

  Across the crater, Cyclops stood against the outside wall of an old temple. He was firing at full power, his eye-beams aimed at a trio of flying enemies: Starbolt, Manta, and Oracle. They dodged in the air, their movements almost casual.

  Taking their time.

  Logan sprinted toward them, drew his claws—and stopped. Behind Cyclops, sprawled behind a jagged outcropping, Jean lay unconscious. Logan glanced at Scott one more time, watched him fire off another pair of deadly blasts.

  Hang on, boss. Just a little longer.

  He dropped low, creeping around the edge of the crater. The hovering Guard members hadn’t noticed him yet. Flattening himself against machines, he ducked under half-fallen walls, using all his training to remain absolutely silent.

  At last he reached Jean. She wasn’t moving, and her breathing was shallow. He reached a hand down to her, barely remembering to retract his claws in time. When he touched her face, her eyes flew open.

  “Uhh!”

  Logan sank to his knees. “Jeannie. Thank god.”

  “Can’t kill me.” She smiled, struggled to her knees. “You should know that by now.”

  Logan grabbed a rock to steady himself as the ground shook. He looked over to see Starbolt firing a sustained burst of flame down at the surface. The fire formed a semicircle, penning Cyclops in against the temple.

  “Go,” Jean said. “Help him. And, Logan?”

  He turned, paused.

  “Thanks.” She smiled. “For… for all of it.”

  A thousand replies ran through his mind. Ain’t nothing. We’re teammates. For you, Red, sure. You paid me back, a thousand times.

  I love you.

  In the end, he just nodded. Then he turned and sprinted off to join the fray.

  Cyclops turned to watch as Logan leapt into the air, tagging two of the Guardsmen with a single swipe of his claws. Another one—he wasn’t sure which—reached down and shook the ground, sending the ancient structure crumbling, forcing both X-Men down to the surface. The battle turned quickly against them as more and more Guardsmen came out of hiding—a rainbow of costumes filling the night sky, energies blasting from alien hands and mouths and eyes.

  Logan began to feel the cumulative effect of the assault. His vision blurred, then started to go dark. Yet as he sank to the floor of the crater unconscious, all he remembered was the smile on Jean Grey’s face. The look of deep gratitude and yes, love. Not the romantic love he’d yearned for, not the closeness he’d dreamed of in quiet moments of pain. But love nonetheless, a deep and abiding warmth that would stay with him, guiding and guarding his troubled spirit, until the end of his days.

  * * *

  THE HOLOGRAM rose from the platform in the center of the cargo deck. Two figures wavered, dark against shadows, caught by the microcamera of a Shi’ar dust drone. Charles Xavier leaned forward in his hoverchair, struggling to make out the details.

  “Enhance resolution,” Lilandra said. At a nearby console, a technician hurried to comply.

  The image grew clearer. In the caverns beneath the Blue Area, Gladiator launched himself through the air, planting a shattering punch across Colossus’s steel jaw. The young X-Man cried out and flew into the wall, cracking its surface. Bits of stone rained down around him.

  No, Xavier thought. No no no no no no.

  In the hologram, Gladiator strode toward his fallen enemy. “In order to help your friends, you will have to get through me,” he said. “And I honestly don’t think that’s possible.” Before Colossus could regain his footing, Gladiator fell to a crouch and pounded the X-Man’s chest against the floor. Again the aged stone cracked and shattered.

  “If—” Colossus coughed, scurrying away along the uneven floor. “If I have learned anything from my time in the X-Men…”

  He reached behind him and grabbed a section of wall. Its outer covering had been ripped away, revealing a thick, aged support beam. He wrenched the beam free and swung it toward his foe.

  “…it is that nothing is impossible.”

  Gladiator stood perfectly still. The beam cracked in half over his head, leaving him unharmed.

  Xavier jumped at a touch on his shoulder. Lilandra stood behind him, staring at the image. They watched together as Gladiator lunged forward and dealt Colossus a crippling blow to the stomach.

  “I am sorry, my love,” Lilandra said.

  Xavier whirled, suddenly furious. “You did not have to do this.”

  “I did.” Her expression was pained but firm.

  “I had the situation under control.”

  “Then why did you lie to me? You said you were returning to Earth to visit family.” She glared at him. “I am the sworn protector of a thousand worlds. You have never understood.”

  “I understand more than you think.” He turned away. “Your people regard me as a lesser life-form—as some sort of pet you’ve adopted. An amusement.”

  “Have I ever treated you that way?”

  He turned back to the hologram. Colossus and Gladiator were trading blows at close quarters, punches that would shatter a normal person’s skull. The tunnel quivered and shook around them.

  No, Xavier thought, you would never do that. But his anger would not let him say it aloud. “Perhaps, in the end,” he said, “you and I are just too alien.”

  Colossus slammed Gladiator into the wall. Good, Xavier thought. Stay on him, Peter. Maybe… maybe there’s a chance…

  Gladiator grabbed Colossus around the waist, spun him around, and threw him at the ceiling. The tunnel walls rippled and began to collapse. The two fighters grappled again, oblivious to the stone falling all around. The dust drone swung around, struggling to
keep them in view as debris filled the passageway.

  “However this ends,” Xavier said, “I will be returning to Earth. With my surviving students.”

  Lilandra withdrew, her face stony. “I expected no less.”

  In the hologram, layers of rock tumbled down. Gladiator and Colossus vanished in a cloud of dust and stone. For a moment the image was still—and then the rocks began to move, sliding heavily aside. A single figure in red and blue rose from the floor. His uniform was torn, but his eyes still glared with fierce, unwavering purpose.

  Gladiator.

  Xavier turned away. “I’ve seen enough.”

  “Charles…” Lilandra said. He looked up. There was steel in her eyes. “I would give anything for us to have… for this to have gone another way. But I ask you to consider something. Perhaps we are not so different from each other. Not so alien.

  “Perhaps you were simply wrong.”

  He looked down, blinking away a tear.

  “I can feel them,” he whispered. “As each one of them falls, their pain echoes in my mind.”

  She turned away. “You and I,” she said. “We could have had the stars.”

  For a moment, the cargo deck was silent. The hologram lingered on Gladiator as he climbed his way free of the debris. Then the image winked off.

  Lilandra turned toward the technician. “How many X-Men still standing?”

  Xavier knew the answer before it came.

  “Only two, Majestrix.” The technician toggled his controls, bringing up a new image. “Just two.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  JEAN GREY crouched inside the alcove, pressing a hand to the wall. Engines hummed behind it, concealed behind layer upon layer of rock. Hidden machines, designed to run for hundreds of thousands of years, kept going by some unknown power source.

  Will they be enough? she wondered.

  A familiar tickle in her brain signaled Scott’s approach. She held up both hands, manipulating a vertical wall of moondust she’d erected to hide the alcove from view. The gray particles shimmered and parted at her telekinetic command, creating an entranceway.

  Leaning forward, she peered through the opening at the crater outside. A comet trail blazed past, arrowing across the starry sky. That would be Starbolt.