"What de hell was dat all about?" Gambit asked aloud.
"Oracle."
Gambit turned to see that Jean had come up next to him undetected. Her Kree disguise was still working, at least visibly. A young, pink-skinned Kree female slammed into Remy. She looked up at him for a moment, took a fearful glance behind her, then kept running. He looked to see what had frightened her so, and there, towering above the marketplace, was Titan of the Imperial Guard.
He stood nearly forty feet high, perhaps more, though Gambit didn't know if Titan had a limit to how tall he could grow. The shining blue and brown emblazoned across his chest were a startling contrast to the dingy colors of the marketplace. Each step was half a block, and his head turned from side to side as his eyes scanned the crowd.
The thinning crowd. Gambit felt suddenly vulnerable as he noticed how quickly the marketplace was emptying.
"Remy, let's go!" Jean said.
"Wait," he stopped her. "What about Oracle?"
"Well, she's got to be with them or they wouldn't have found us," Jean answered. "I'm scanning for her but she's not only shielded, she's controlling several members of the crowd, and she was controlling Raza. All of that's throwing me off."
"But you're much more powerful den her, right, chere?" Gambit said, looking for reassurance.
"Once I find her, sure," she said, pulling him along. "And she can't take over any of the X-Men because of the psychic shields that the Professor has implanted in all of us. It's just a matter of time. If I can't find her, I'll just shield us until ... "
Jean slammed into a wall and was pushed to one side. Gambit cursed as he saw that the wall was actually the Imperial Guardsmen known as Warstar. The green armored, robotic looking pair were actually mechanoid symbiotes, sentient machines that could not operate separately. C'Cil was the workhorse, stupid but nearly fifteen feet tall and immeasurably strong. B'Nee, the brains of the duo, was the size of an average human, and rode on C'Cil's back. While he was far less powerful, his touch was electrified. Together, they could tear Gambit apart.
If they could get their hands on him.
"We do not wish to harm you, X-Men," B'Nee said from his piggyback position. "We have been instructed to capture you. Surrender and survive."
Remy saw that Jean had already gotten to her feet and was about to attack Warstar. He shook his head, thinking the words back off as hard as he could and hoping she would pick them up. She stepped back and looked at him curiously. Warstar must have assumed they'd knocked her out, Gambit realized.
"I don' t'ink you realize who you're dealing with," he said. "But Gambit will be more den pleased to show you."
Even as he spoke, Gambit whipped several playing cards from one of the many pockets inside his long duster jacket. They were charged before they left his hands, and his aim was true. The cards struck B'Nee's shining, android-like eyes. The symbiotes screamed together, feeling one another's pain. C'Cil could still see, and batted an arm out to try to take Gambit down. Rage and pain made Warstar clumsy, however, and Gambit dodged to one side and telescoped his bo staff to maximum length right between C'Cil's legs.
"Get out of here, Jeannie," the Cajun said. "Take Oracle down or we don' got any hope of gettin' out of here."
Jean nodded and ran for cover down the same alley Cyclops had gone down only moments earlier. There was shouting above him, and Gambit looked up to see that Archangel and Rogue were both airborne, battling Gladiator and Starbolt in the sky.
"So much for gettin' away wit'out a fight," he said, and smiled. This was more his style anyway. Something, or someone, crashed through the roof of the building to his left. He didn't have time to see if it was one of the X-Men or the Imperial Guard, however, since Warstar had already regained his feet.
"You move quickly for a Terran, Gambit," B'Nee said in that metallic voice that reminded Remy of crinkling tinfoil. "But in the end you know you are no match for us."
Then Warstar moved, C'Cil's arms flashing forward to grab Gambit by the shoulders. He was stunned at the huge mechanoid's speed, and couldn't dodge in time. In seconds, C'Cil was crushing Gambit between his huge hands. Remy's shoulders and ribs felt like they were ready to snap. No question, the alien was right. He was outmatched.
But Remy LeBeau never gave up. That was a lesson he had learned long before he had ever joined the X-Men.
Gambit swung his legs up, ignoring the popping sound that might well have been his shoulder coming out of its socket. He planted his feet against Warstar's chest and shoved with all his strength. The speed of the movement caught Warstar by surprise and he was able to break C'Cil's grip. But that only lasted for a moment. He was falling toward the ground when C'Cil clamped down on his legs painfully. Once again, he was caught.
But his arms were free. His hands were free. Gambit didn't know, really, what Warstar was made of. The thing might have been nothing more than an artificially intelligent robot, or a sentient, naturally born alien species. He only hoped there was nothing flesh and blood about it, because he had already realized there was only one way to get away from the behemoth.
Remy reached out and grabbed C'Cil's upper thighs with his hands.
"Sorry 'bout this, mes amis," he said. "It don' seem like your heart's in dis fight, but dere's no other way."
Explosive energy was funneled through Gambit's hands and into C'Cil's legs, which began to glow. He swung his body up to get his face out of the way, just as the charge released. C'Cil's legs were blown off and Warstar crashed to the ground, the two symbiotic creatures shrieking a duet of agony.
Raza was still unconscious, but Gambit dragged him over to the shattered fountain and splashed water on his face. He sputtered, but when he saw their current situation, he rose in silence and retrieved his sword. Even as they ran to help the others, Gambit heard B'Nee's eerie voice behind him.
"Initiating self repair," B'Nee said.
"Oh, dat's jus' wonderful," Remy said, and they ran even faster.
• • •
In a tiny hovel that a blue-skinned Kree merchant and his family called home, Cyclops helped to set the broken leg of the youngest daughter. She looked at him in terror, and he couldn't blame her. With the insanity raging outside her door, it couldn't have been much of a comfort to be helped by an alien whose eyes were covered by a blood-red visor.
Scott! Jean's voice entered his mind. We've got to find Oracle or we'll never get out of here. I'm showing you my position telepathically. Get here as quickly as you can.
He finished tying the makeshift splint to the girl's leg, and ignored the thanks of her parents as he dashed out to meet Jean. Cyclops had known people with psi talents all of his adult life, and part of his youth. But Professor Xavier and Jean never used their abilities on an individual without consent. Other than in battle, of course. Despite the psionic shields that were in his mind, and the comfort level he had achieved with his constant psi-link with Jean, it disturbed Cyclops deeply to know that Oracle was out there, monitoring their location. Perhaps their thoughts as well.
Jean stood at the corner of a small alley just ahead, and Scott couldn't help being both pleased to see her and anxious for her welfare. He didn't have time to worry further, though. At that moment, Titan stepped into view. Cyclops thought he might dive into the alley and avoid being spotted, but the huge Guardsman clearly knew right where to look.
Jean was right. There was nothing they could do until she found Oracle. Unless ...
"Jean," he shouted, even as Titan began to reach for him. "Can't you shield us all from Oracle?"
"Of course," she snapped. "But what good will that do unless we're out of sight?"
Foolish question, Scott chided himself. He unleashed a full power optic blast at Titan's chest even as a huge hand was about to close on his chest. The Guardsman was staggered, and stumbled back several steps, which gave Scott and Jean time to disappear down the alley.
It wasn't going to work, though. They were on the next block when Titan called to them.
"Don't try to escape X-Men!" he said. "There's nowhere you can run that I can't find you."
Titan had grown even taller, and now simply stepped over the row of low buildings and into their path.
"Quick," Jean said, pulling Scott toward a partially destroyed storefront. "She's this way."
"What about Titan?" Scott asked.
"Oracle's more important ... Scott, heads up!"
Where Jean was pointing, Oracle had stepped into full view from a darkened doorway. Obviously, she knew that she couldn't keep herself hidden from Jean forever. But what was her plan now? The Royal Elite Corps of the Shi'ar Imperial Guard did not surrender.
Cyclops blasted Titan again as the Guardsman came for him, but this new attack seemed to have less effect.
"She's gotten more powerful," Jean said through clenched teeth, and only then did Scott realize that she and Oracle were locked in a battle of mental will and psionic strength.
Titan was faster than he realized, and before Cyclops could return his attention to their fight, the Guardsman had lifted him off the ground and turned him upside down. Disoriented- and struggling for breath, Cyclops let off a half-hearted optic blast. Titan held him so tight it was almost impossible to breathe, and Scott's vision began to dim.
Jean ... he thought, but knew that she couldn't take on Titan until Oracle was down. He was in trouble.
• • •
Rogue and Gladiator had been trading blows for minutes, and she knew he was holding back. Her own strength was phenomenal, and her flesh nearly invulnerable to injury. She could go toe to toe with just about any being she had ever run across, and at least give a good accounting of herself. Gladiator was in another class entirely. His strength was such that any measure she could imagine could not define its limits.
"Pretty clear to me y'all don't wanna be here," she said finally. "Why don't you let us just disappear, sugar? I promise this ol' gal won't tell nobody."
They were more than one hundred feet in the air. Unlike Archangel, who needed his wings to stay aloft, their powers of flight were energy based, generated from their bodies. When they faced one another down, the only reason it couldn't be called a standoff was because they weren't standing.
"As long as I am on Hala, I must do as Deathbird commands," Gladiator said, and struck Rogue a blow that snapped her neck back and shot her more than three hundred yards away.
When she was able to stop herself, she saw Archangel close by, keeping Starbolt busy. The Guardsman was sheathed completely in an undulating wave of energy that was somewhat similar to fire. His red uniform flowed in the same manner, and Rogue thought for a moment that it, too, might be generated from the alien's body.
Archangel was dodging Starbolt, his organic metal wings flashing in the sun. A barrage of silver feathers exploded from his left wing. They were tipped with a chemical that would paralyze any enemy, and Rogue thought Warren had it won there and then. Archangel obviously knew better, for he dodged out of the way of another blast of energy from Starbolt even as his feathers melted to slag before they could ever reach their target.
Rogue wanted to help him, but she had Gladiator to think of. She massaged her jaw. Invulnerable or not, it was starting to hurt. She was about to go after him, but didn't have to. Gladiator came to her.
"Yer pullin' those punches, Gladiator," she said. "Not that I'm complainin' mind you. But why don't you stop this foolishness? You know Deathbird's a crazy ... "
Gladiator swung at her again, but Rogue wasn't about to take another one of his punches, whether he was pulling them or not. She feinted left, then simply ducked. The momentum of his punch pulled him forward in the air and Rogue put every ounce of her formidable strength behind an uppercut to Gladiator's jaw. She felt a surge of pride in her chest as he shot up and backward a fair distance. He might be inconceivably strong, but that didn't mean he couldn't be hurt.
"Damn shame," she muttered to herself. "Even with the mohawk and purple skin, he's a fine Iookin' man."
She smiled, knowing Gambit would be jealous to hear her say such things. Or at least, she hoped he would.
Even before the smile was off her face, Gladiator was rocketing at her again. Rogue knew that his speed, like his strength, far exceeded her own. Despite her flippant facade, she was an extremely intelligent young woman. She knew, without question, that she was not going to win her battle with Gladiator by using her fists.
Beyond the other abilities she had, which she usually thought of as gifts, was another power. A curse. The bane of her existence. Whenever her bare skin touched that of another being, she absorbed their memories, special skills and abilities and, if they had them, extranormal powers. She knew she would have to risk absorbing Gladiator's powers, and try not to take too much. Once before, she had permanently stolen another person's memories and abilities. She never wanted that to happen again.
Problem was, Gladiator was covered from neck to toe. Only his face was bare. It wasn't going to be easy to get that close. Still, Rogue had to try.
Only seconds after she'd hit him, Gladiator was at her again. Rogue could see that he was angry, that there would be no more punches pulled in this fight, no matter how conflicted he might be about his orders. She tried to dodge and reach for his face, but he was going much too fast.
Gladiator slammed both fists into her at extraordinary speed. Her eyes fluttered as she hurtled backward and she thought she might pass out from the pain and air pressure. Rogue could no longer concentrate on staying aloft, and crashed to the ground like a humanoid meteor. So dazed was she by Gladiator's strike, that she barely felt herself hit the planet's surface.
It took her a precious few seconds to come around, and when she did, the battle had moved directly overhead. Archangel was trying to use both sets of wings to slash at Starbolt, with no success, and Gladiator was moving in on them. Several blocks away, Rogue could see Titan over the rooftops. He had Cyclops in his grip.
All in all, Rogue figured it wasn't going too well. She wondered how Gambit and Raza were faring, and where Jean had gotten off to.
Then she had an idea.
Shooting from the ground at top speed, she reached Archangel and Starbolt just before Gladiator.
"Warren!" she shouted. "Take out the big guy with your wing knives!"
Rogue hauled back her fist and belted Starbolt with only a fraction of her strength, then caught him as he began to fall, barely conscious. She watched as Archangel's wings curled up behind him, reacting to her words seemingly before Warren could consciously command them. Gladiator tried to reach for him, but Archangel's wing knives flashed out by the dozens, slashing through his Shi'ar body armor. Although Gladiator's skin was nearly impenetrable, the feathers were enough to scratch him.
With his strength and speed, Rogue had gambled that Gladiator's metabolism would absorb the paralyzing chemical on Warren's wing knives almost immediately. She was right. The Praetor of the Guard slowed down drastically. He reached for Warren and missed, and then began to drift aimlessly toward the ground under the planet's gravitational influence.
"Way to go, Warren," she cried.
It wouldn't last long, Rogue knew. They had to make the best of it. Pushing away the fear of using her hated power, she pulled off one of her gloves, and reached for Starbolt's face.
"No offense, hon', but I really don't feel like kissin' you, okay?" she said, forcing a smile she didn't feel.
Invulnerable to the flaming energy of his body, Rogue touched Starbolt's cheek. Immediately, she absorbed his powers and part of his psyche. As she pulled her glove back on, she already knew why the Guard had come to Hala and what their responsibilities were to Deathbird. She understood, finally, their hesitation in battle. But there was nothing to be done about it. The X-Men couldn't very well surrender simply because their opponents were half-hearted about their mission.
"Scott's in trouble, Rogue," Archangel called, and with the fury of battle etched on his face, Rogue thought Warren looked incredibl
y sinister.
"What are we waitin' for, sugar?" she asked, and let go of Starbolt. She hadn't siphoned all his power, and she knew from his memories that the fall wouldn't do him too much harm.
Side by side, Archangel and Rogue flew at Titan's face. She glowed with Starbolt's fiery energy, and blasted wave after wave of the burning power at the giant. Simultaneously, Warren shot wing-knives at Titan's upper body. The gargantuan alien began to grow even larger, trying to counteract their paralyzing effect. Under Rogue and Archangel's combined assault, Titan was forced to drop Cyclops. AsRogue continued to keep Titan busy, Warren swooped down to catch their leader.
She looked down to see Archangel handing a shaky looking Cyclops over to Gambit and Raza.
When she looked back up, Gladiator's fist was in her face.
• • •
"Ma chere, non!" Gambit yelled as Gladiator pummeled Rogue, holding her with one hand and landing several blows with the other.
"Angel," Remy said, grabbing Warren's arm. "Get me up dere an' I blow his head off!"
Archangel was already flying. "Sorry, Gambit," he called back. "You'll only slow me down."
Gambit cursed and chewed his lip as he watched Archangel streak into the air toward Gladiator and Rogue. Despite the distance, he could see Rogue trying weakly to fight back. With her one bare hand, she reached out for Gladiator's face, and Gambit knew she meant to absorb his powers. Unfortunately, it appeared that Gladiator knew it too. He struck her one last time, a backhand across the face, but didn't hold on.
"Mon Dieu," Gambit whispered in awe and horror as Rogue was thrown by the blow. Gladiator had hit her with such force that by the count of three, she had disappeared from sight.
Archangel flew directly at Gladiator, and Gambit found a new, profound respect for Warren Worthington. Gladiator could destroy him in a heartbeat if he got close enough, but Warren didn't turn away. For Remy LeBeau, who had always been a cynic when it came to the concept of bravery, it was a lesson not soon to be forgotten.
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