He paused and looked across the room at Ch'od's snoring form.
"He shall recover?" Raza asked.
"He'll be right as rain," Jean answered, and Scott could feel her empathy in his mind and heart.
"Thank Ky'thri," the Shi'ar cyborg said softly. "The ship wast badly damaged breaking through the armada in orbit. On the communications module we didst receive the broadcast of Deathbird's announcement that Corsair and Hepzibah had been captured and wouldst be executed for crimes against the Imperium. With that imperative in mind, we had but one course of action. During the time of her exile, Lilandra wast one of us, a Starjammer. She didst give the ship the necessary codes to override all Shi'ar stargates, and a good thing it was, or we wouldst likely all be dead now. "
"You know how dangerous the use of the stargate is, Raza," Storm interrupted. "With its every power burst, we risk the destabilization of our sun. As much loved and valued as Corsair and Hepzibah are, they are two lives held against billions."
"Wouldst thou want me to believe that thou wouldst not do the same for thine own comrades, Storm," Raza snapped. "I hath spent enough time with the X-Men to know differently."
"Maybe I'm not being objective here, Ororo," Jean said, "and you do have a point—the stargate is dangerous. But if we're not willing to risk everything for two lives, how can we claim to care about the billions?"
Cyclops was tom. Corsair was his father, and yet the thought of putting so many lives in danger was painful for him. He would brave any danger, bear any burden, to save his father. But to have the lives of a solar system on his conscience was too much to even consider.
"Storm is right, Jean:' he said, and they all looked at him in shock, Raza most of all. "Atleast, partially right. Using the stargate is not a choice to be made lightly. However, the statistics on its potential destabilization factor are extraordinary, moving into tangible danger levels only when it is used too often and with too little lag time in between passages. In any case, and as much as I want to rush off immediately to save my father, we are obligated to look for other solutions."
"Agreed," Storm said. "And I see only one other possible solution."
She was interrupted by the hiss of a door sliding open, and they all turned to see Professor Xavier gliding his hoverchair into the room.
"Your timing is impeccable, Charles," Storm said. "We have a crisis that needs resolution. You may be the only one who can help us."
After they had given Xavier an abbreviated version of Raza's story, he merely nodded, fingers steepled under his chin as he considered it all. Finally, he looked at Raza.
"Did you have any opportunity to contact Lilandra through all of this?" he asked.
"That is the other solution I had considered," Storm confirmed.
"Our ship wast in distress when we didst emerge from yon stargate, but still did we manage a subspace call on her private comm-link," Raza admitted, but Cyclops knew from his tone that the news was not good. "She vowed to do what she couldst to delay the execution of our comrades, but stood firm on pursuing it any further. She believes that, because Deathbird's actions be well within the law, her position as Majestrix couldst be undermined by confronting Deathbird on such a public level."
"That doesn't sound like Lilandra," Jean said distantly.
"Professor," Cyclops began, "you are Lilandra's royal consort. Is there anything you can do or say to convince her to intercede?"
Xavier seemed to slump in his chair ever so slightly.
"I'm sorry, Scott," he sighed. "Lilandra and I have not been communicating very often or very well for some time. While I am still the royal consort, her entire being has been consumed by the demands of the empire. If I can reach her, she may speak to me, but I doubt I will be able to change her mind."
"Anything you can do, sir," Cyclops said quietly.
"Of course," Xavier answered. "But now, unfortunately, I have more bad news of another crisis which demands immediate attention. All of you please meet me in the ready room in five minutes, suited up. If I haven't reached Lilandra by then, I'm certain I won't be able to reach her for at least a day, far too long to wait.
"Five minutes," he repeated.
• • •
Ch'od seemed slightly disoriented, but against the Beast's advice and despite their incomplete recovery, he and Raza had managed to get out of bed and join the X-Men in the ready room. Cyclops was glad they had made it. It was comforting to have them near, because he knew in his heart that, reservations about the stargate or no, there would be no avoiding a trip to Hala. And though the logical, practical side of his brain would never have allowed him to admit it, he would have it no other way. His father was going to be executed. That was all the argument necessary.
When Professor Xavier finally glided into the ready room, Cyclops was relieved, despite the grim cast to his mentor's features.
"All present and accounted for, Professor," he said. "Were you able to contact Lilandra?"
Xavier glanced around at the men and women gathered in the hangar. Cyclops thought he caught a flicker of anxiety on the older man's face, which was somehow made more expressive, and often more severe, because of his complete lack of hair.
"I did reach Lilandra," he finally said, with obvious resignation. "Unfortunately, it seems she was not able to speak freely. She did tell me that she was sending an envoy to Hala to witness the executions, and that they would not take place until that envoy arrived. It is clearly her way of stalling. Only because I know her so intimately was 1 able to see the pain which this situation has brought to her.
"Scott," Xavier said softly, "I'm sorry I could not do more. "
"We know you did all you could, Charles," Jean said, even as she wrapped her arms around Scott's waist. "The question is ..."
"What now? Yes, of course," Xavier nodded.
"You spoke of another crisis?" Cyclops asked, impatient to be away on the Stariammer, en route to his father's rescue or funeral. But he had an obligation to the X-Men and to Professor Xavier, an obligation that had become, over the years, the definition of his life and identity.
"Hank?" Xavier said, and the Beast stepped forward.
"Simply put," he began, then paused a moment to determine how, indeed, to put it simply, something Hank McCoywas not always able to do. "Simply put," he began again, "some person or persons, likely possessing either supranormal powers or nouveau tech weaponry, has seized a federal facility in Colorado that is the focal point of Operation: Wideawake, which manufactures and commands the Sentinels."
"Beautiful!" Iceman said, his sarcasm unwelcome. "Just what every household needs, the mutant equivalent of mechanical dog catcher!"
"I don't see what the big deal is, Charles," Archangel said calmly. "If someone has taken Wideawake from the government, well just shoot out there and take it back. We'll be back in time for dinner."
"It's hardly that simple, Warren," Storm began, but Bishop cut her off.
"You don't see what the big deal is, Worthington?" Bishop said curtly. "Haven't any of you paid attention to what I've told you of the future, the world that I lived in before I traveled back in time and ended up with you? Are you all deaf? Once the Sentinels are unleashed upon mutantkind, it's the beginning of the end!."
He stopped, fuming a bit, and glared around at the others, several of whom would not meet his gaze. Cyclops did not turn away, fascinated by what he observed was not anger but fear in Bishop's eyes. Though after the tales the man had told them of the America of his birth, his fear came as no surprise.
"Whatever's happening out there, we need to stop it," Bishop added, then lapsed into silence, awaiting Xavier's instructions like the soldier he was.
"Storm was accurate, however," the Beast said into the silence. "It is hardly that elementary. We have no idea who might be inside the facility, and the U.S. military is en route to the site as we speak. We must approach this matter with the utmost diplomacy."
"Bring the Cajun along, Hank," Wolverine rasped. "He's s
uch a people person, a natural born diplomat."
"I can't help it if I'm too charmin' for my own good, me," Gambit said with a mischievous grin.
The conversation erupted in earnest, opinions flying back and forth, but Scott and Jean only stood at the edge of the group, waiting patiently for Xavier's decision. In the field, Cyclopswas leader, with Storm as his second or as leader herself in his absence. But here at the Institute, the X-Men answered to only one voice.
"Quiet," Xavier said softly, using both his physical and his mental voice. Silence fell.
"You must leave immediately for Colorado," he said. "Your gear should already be stowed on the Blackbird, if you've all been keeping up with protocol."
Immediately, Cyclops began to stammer a stunned response. "Pro-professor," he said, "I don't think I can ..."
"Please let me finish," Xavier said with a raised hand. "You will be split into two groups, one to investigate and if necessary act on the situation developing in Colorado, the other to accompany Raza and Ch'od back to Hala to effect rescue of our allies, if at all possible. Both endeavors will likely require diplomacy, or at least expediency.
"Scott will, of course, lead the Hala mission, while Ororo will lead the Wideawake recovery team," Xavier concluded, nodding first at Cyclops and then at Storm. "I'll want Hank with Storm, but the rest of you can make up your own minds. While we don't know what waits for us in Colorado, we are certain that the Hala mission is extremely dangerous. If you are caught, you will share Corsair's fate and there will be nothing I can do for you. Lilandra will not help."
Cyclops looked at Jean, met her eyes, and that was all that was necessary to reaffirm their commitment. He didn't need a verbal or psychic cue to know that she would be coming with him. He turned to look at the team once more, and found himself face to face with Rogue, the white streak in her hair startling against its deep, dark red, a sparkle in her eye.
"If y'all are guaranteein' trouble, you know that Remy and I'll cover your backs," she drawled, then turned to Gambit. "Won't we, sugar?"
"Chere," Gambit grinned, "I guarantee it."
"I will go with Storm," Bishop said grimly. "The Sentinels must never be unleashed."
Iceman began to speak up, opting for the Hala mission. Cyclops was grateful for his friend's support. Bobby knew it was more dangerous, and yet his concern for Scott and his father was more important. He wondered if there wasn't also an element of bravado. Bobby had always been considered one of the less powerful X-Men, and Cyclops often worried that Iceman wanted so badly to prove himself that it might one day get him killed.
"Forget it, Drake," Archangel said, stepping in front of Iceman. He took another step toward Scott, and spoke quietly. "If you have to go against Deathbird, old friend, you're going to need me."
Cyclops nodded.
"Excellent, then it is done," Storm said. "An even split: Iceman, Beast, Wolverine and Bishop with me; Gambit, Rogue, Jean and Warren with Cyclops." She turned to the Beast. "Hank, Bobby, fire up the Blackbird. We dustoff in five minutes."
Cyclops watched the 'home team,' as he had started to think of them, prepared for their mission, even as his 'away team' gathered round. Professor Xavier began to glide toward them, but Cyclops realized there was far more to their plan than merely making a decision. He scanned the room for Ch'od and Raza, uncomfortably aware that he hadn't even noticed their withdrawing from the debate. Finally, he saw them, conversing quietly at the base of the long entry ramp of the ship. He signaled to them, and the two aliens walked back to where the remaining X-Men stood with their benefactor.
"How is the ship?" he asked.
"You people have done an excellent job," Ch'od said happily. "She's as ready to fly as the day I first laid eyes on her."
"She wast a vile monstrosity when thine eyes first lay upon her!" Raza snapped, and Cyclops was glad to see that the pair were back to themselves again.
"Still," Raza continued, "I suppose she shall suffice for the nonce. At least to get in. It may be that we shall all die trying to leave Hala, if we doth survive even that long."
"You always this glum, fella?" Rogue asked.
"He de life of de party, Rogue," Gambit said, one eyebrow arched.
"In fact," Jean said, "compared to his usual demeanor, I'd say Raza was almost effusive today."
"If I was a little less friendly," Ch'od said happily, "I'm sure Raza would not be quite so angry. But I cannot help myself. It's my nature."
"That's what I keep trying to tell them," Warren said, but barely cracked a smile at his own humor.
"Scott," Professor Xavier said, "could I have a moment, please, before you depart?"
"Certainly, sir," Cyclops answered, but already his mind was consumed by the journey ahead, and thoughts of what might lie at the other side of the stargate.
He took a few steps away from the rest of the team, and Xavier glided at his side.
Believe me when I say I understand your feelings here, Scott, the Professor began. Yet I know how you get in times of personal crisis. Often you try to deal with such things yourself, and I know you'll be tempted to cut the others, particularly Jean and Warren, out of the picture, to keep your pain to yourself But you need them, Scott, and not merely as backup.
I know that, Professor, Scott responded mentally. Though he had no psi abilities himself, Xavier could read as well as project thoughts. It's just that, well, I already feel as if I'm endangering all of their lives for my own reasons. It's not ...
They go where they will, Scott, the Professor interrupted, and Cyclops knew from his tone that the subject was closed. He hoped Xavier wasn't too frustrated with him.
"We must avoid an incident between Deathbird and Lilandra at all costs," the Professor said aloud. "You won't have any backup out there."
"Do we ever, Charles?" Jean asked as she came closer, and Xavier merely raised his hands in defeat.
• • •
The Blackbird had long since fired her engines and shot into the western sky toward Colorado. Asthe Starjammer performed its vertical liftoff, then began her journey in earnest, metal shrieking as she climbed ever higher into the sky, Charles Xavier shot an errant thought out into the void of space after them.
Godspeed, my X-Men. Come home safe.
Chapter 4
In the galactic region known by Terrans as the Greater Magellanic Cloud lay the Pama planetary system. Once upon a time, the planet Hala was the jewel of the Pama System, the proudest of planets, the center of an extraordinary empire. Entropy destroys all things, but in the case of Hala, destruction was not left to nature and time. The Kree homeworld was, instead, undone by its own leader, the artificial life form known as the Supreme Intelligence.
That wondrous being conducted a terrible experiment with its own people, manipulating their war with the Shi'ar so their most hated enemy would use the dreaded nega-bomb against them. More than twentynine billion Kree lost their lives, and many of those who lived underwent startling, often terrifying, sometimes fatal mutations. Exactly as the Supreme Intelligence had planned.
The survivors lived, for the most part, on the ravaged surface of what remained of Hala. Only the capital city, Kree-Lar, had been rebuilt to any semblance of its former glory, and then only to trumpet the superiority of their savage new Viceroy, Deathbird of the Shi' ar royal house of Neramani. In time, many had begun to overlook the betrayal of the Supreme Intelligence, to ignore the proof that the Shi'ar had been manipulated. None of that mattered, when they lived as serfs on a world controlled by a tyrant.
The gleaming spires of the new capitol building stretched higher than anything else still standing on Hala. It was a beautiful sight, but one hard to appreciate in light of the poverty, disease, and squalor outside the gates. The new capitol had been built on the remains of the·old, the centuries-old foundation still solid. Deep beneath the surface of the planet was the dungeon of Hala, which held more prisoners now under Deathbird than they ever had during the height of the Kree Empire.
The screaming continued.
• • •
Candide stopped screaming. Mercifully, she had fallen unconscious and now hung limply from the metal cylinders which entrapped her hands. The top of her head, her eyes and the bridge of her nose were covered by a copper colored metal helmet the function of which was simple: to destroy her will, and her mind if necessary.
"Enough, Deathbird!" Corsair snapped, straining against the cylinders which paralyzed both hands and feet, a torture in itself. "If Candide had anything to tell you, surely you would have heard it by now."
Deathbird put one hand against the wall and leaned close to Candide's face. With the talons of her other hand, she plucked the helmet from the smuggler's head and turned slowly toward Corsair. Her golden skin and white eyes, with the extraordinary markings around them, combined with the mauve feathers that grew from her head and spread around her shoulders like human hair, ought to have made her beautiful.
Instead, they made her more horrible. Deathbird was a genetic throwback, even among her own people. The Shi'ar had characteristics of both Earth mammals and birds, but as a race they had lost their wings to evolution. Deathbird had been born with wings intact under her arms and lethal talons at the end of each finger.
But those things were not what made her so terrifying. It was as simple as the cast of her face, the sickly light in her eyes. At different times Corsair had thought her purely evil, then completely insane. He had finally realized that she was a combination of both. Her mere presence sickened and unnerved him.
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