Perhaps afraid that Archangel would use his wing-knives again, Gladiator took the fight to Warren. Just as the two were about to clash, a huge hand shot up from below and simply plucked Warren from the air.
"You're making me angry little bird," Titan said, his voice like intense thunder across the sky, so large had he grown.
Gambit looked back at Gladiator, who was scanning the ground. Their eyes met, and the Cajun's lip began to curl. His hands crackled with explosive energy.
"Come down 'ere, homme," he snarled. "Gambit'll show you what we do back in New Orleans to men who hit ladies."
"Gambit!" Cyclops said, shaking him.
Remy was frozen in place a moment longer, then turned to see that Scott seemed to have fully recovered from his bout with Titan.
"Listen to me," he was saying, though Gambit was so stunned by what had happened to Rogue that it took him a moment to hear the words. "Jean is a block behind you. Take Raza and retreat. Warren will be along shortly."
Gambit stared at him. His gaze was drawn to where, past Cyclops' shoulder, Raza was trying to fight off a completely repaired Warstar with only his sword.
Gambit had a moment to regret blowing up the Starjammer's blaster, but pushed the thought away.
"You got to be jokin' wit' Gambit, Cyclops," he said. "You t'ink I ... "
"That's an order, Remy!" Cyclops shouted. "I can't take time to explain myself to you, damn it. Just go!"
He spun on his heel and let off an optic blast of bubbling red energy that cleanly severed C'Cil's left arm. A blast of lower intensity followed and knocked B'Nee from C'Cil's back. Warstar was out of the game for a moment.
"Raza!" Gambit called. "Let's get out of here. De boss man got a plan!"
Raza looked back to where C'Cil had picked up his arm and was holding it to the sparking metal stump. The mechanoid was already knitting itself back together, and B'Nee was advancing on Raza. The Shi'ar warrior lunged toward B'Nee with his sword, then turned and raced after Gambit, catching up to him in mere seconds.
Gambit looked over his shoulder as they ran. Cyclops let loose with a wide beamed blast of red glowing energy that was so powerful it knocked Titan off his feet and forced him to let Archangel go. Remy winced, thinking about the Kree that might be trapped when his enormous body fell on already weakened structures. Archangel flew, somewhat shakily, in the same direction Gambit and Raza were running, and Remy wondered how he had come to know of Cyclops's plan, whatever it might be.
"Gambit! Raza! Come on!" Jean shouted.
Remy looked up to see her in a standoff against Oracle. Oracle was certainly the most attractive member of the guard, he'd always thought. Her ice blue hair and snow white skin were set off by a uniform of pink and lavender. Very feminine but not exactly battle wear. Though, as a telepath, Gambit figured Oracle didn't see much hand-to-hand fighting. As a psi and a physical combatant, Jean was far superior. Gambit didn't understand why she hadn't put Oracle down within minutes of the fight beginning.
"I never imagined the X-Men were cowards," a deep voice boomed behind them, and Gambit risked another glance to see that Gladiator was flying down toward them, ignoring Cyclops, who was busy battling Warstar again.
That was a mistake. Gambit had fought alongside Cyclops long enough to know that, level-headed as he may have been, when his cool, calm leadership tactics were put aside for full-on war, Scott Summers was a dangerous man.
The whipcrack sound of Cyclops' optic blast came simultaneous with the blast itself, which struck Gladiator in the back of the head and sent him somersaulting through the air. Gambit thought he smelled singed mohawk. If there was one thing they all knew about Gladiator, it was that he had a temper. If they hadn't already known it, they would have discovered it now.
The Praetor of the Shi'ar Imperial Guard ignored the other X-Men and shot in the opposite direction, heading for Cyclops. Visible rays of heat and light, like the power of tiny suns, shot from Gladiator's eyes right at the leader of the X-Men, and Cyclops met them with his own optic blasts. Gladiator had seemed to be holding off, wanting to capture the X-Men unharmed. That had changed when his temper finally boiled over. Otherwise he never would have used his eye beams, a power he rarely took advantage of. Gambit wondered if there were limits to that energy.
"Get over here!" Jean yelled, and Gambit turned to face her again.
Jean Grey had seemed to struggle with Oracle, but as Gambit, Raza, and Archangel approached, the look of desperation left her face. She raised her hands in a commanding gesture. Oracle cried out in pain, clutched her head and crumpled to the ground. The Shi'ar woman groaned in pain and moved slowly, trying to rise. Jean ignored her, and turned to face the other X-Men.
"We've got to get to some cover," she said. "I can shield us from Oracle if none of the others can see us."
"You could have taken Oracle out at any time," Archangel said. "What was the point of stalling, Jean? We're in real trouble here."
"Not if we retreat now," she said sharply.
"What of Cyclops?" Raza asked.
"Come on, chere," Gambit urged. "You love de man. We can't just leave him behind! And what about Rogue?"
Gambit studied Jean's face. She had seemed colder than he'd ever known her, hardened to the bleak reality of the situation. But if what Archangel said was true about her not fighting full force against Oracle—and Gambit thought it probably was—what was the point of the battle in the first place? As he watched her, Jean's brow furrowed and she bit her lip. It was a look Gambit had seen on the faces of too many people, too many women. It was a look of regret.
"I've already got a mental fix on Rogue," Jean answered.
"We'll go to her now. As for Scott, he'll have to fend for himself."
The air was humming with the energy of Scott's optic blasts and Gladiator's super-heated vision. They an turned toward the spot where Cyclops was making a stand against the Imperial Guard, completely alone. Warstar had completed its repairs and was approaching from behind. A newly recovered Starbolt and the infuriated Gladiator were blasting him from the sky. Titan was holding back for the moment, but was just looking for an opportunity to snatch Cyclops up again.
Starbolt fired a solid ball of energy, which Cyclops easily dispersed with his own optic blasts. But the barrage from Starbolt and Gladiator together was too much for him. While he was deflecting another attack from Starbolt, a blast of Gladiator's heat vision knocked him down. In an eyeblink, Gladiator stood on the ground in front of him. The Guardsman hit Cyclops hard enough to leave him unconscious in the dust. The waiting Titan finally scooped their leader off the ground.
"We can't just stand by and watch this," Archangel said.
"An' we ain't gonna," Gambit snarled and started heading back the way he'd come, hoping Raza and Archangel were following him.
Gambit, stop! Jean's thought-command struck him almost like a weapon, and he staggered under its power. Still, it was only communication, not an attempt to manipulate his mind. And his mind had only one goal: to save Cyclops.
"Cyclops gave you an order, Gambit," Jean said. "Follow it now or you'll blow the whole mission."
"You mean all dis is ... ?" he began to ask, but Jean grabbed his arm and began dragging him away, Raza and Warren with them.
"There's no time for this," Jean said. "We can't allow ourselves to be captured."
Gambit ran alongside the others, but his mind raced even faster, trying to figure out what was going on. They'd been doing fairly well against the Guard, except perhaps for Cyclops and Jean. But maybe that was it. Maybe Cyclops was supposed to be captured.
"If dis was part of a plan," he said quietly to Jean as they ran, "I hope you know what you doin'. Be a shame if Cyclops got killed 'cause we didn't step in for him."
Jean didn't respond. Nor did she look his way. But even in profile, Gambit could see the fear in her eyes.
Chapter 10
"You are either a spineless coward or a traitor to the Empire!" Deathbird spat in ang
er as she paced the Great Hall of the Capitol Building.
Her governmental seat, an actual chair in which she sat when making public declarations, was too similar in appearance to a throne as far as Gladiator was concerned. Its ornamentation was a reflection of the ostentatious decoration of the entire room. So regal were her surroundings, that Deathbird's court might be considered insulting and even blasphemous by many on the Shi'ar homeworld of Chandilar.
It was improper. His dislike for the Viceroyhad multiplied dramatically over the previous few hours, and yet here he was, putting up with her abuse once more. For one of his station, there could be no retribution, no response at all other than respect and obedience.
"Viceroy, I have attempted to explain," he began patiently and was encouraged when Deathbird merely glared at him rather than launch into another verbal tirade.
"We were on the verge of overall victory and the apprehension of five X-Men and one member of the band of pirates known as Starjammers," Gladiator insisted, and ignored Deathbird's angry muttering about the Starjammers. He himself was bewildered by the actions of the cyborg Raza, who was born of the Shi'ar and yet whose cause was not often the same as the Empire's.
Gladiator gestured toward Cyclops,who knelt on the floor in front of Deathbird's seat of power. His arms and legs were bound, and a clamp had been placed around his eyes. The only other people in the Great Hall were the other four members of the Guard who had accompanied him. Gladiator ignored them, however, and concentrated on Cyclops.
"We had finally felled this one, taking him immediately into captivity," Gladiator announced. "Unfortunately, Oracle had lost her battle with one of the X-Men, and when we searched for the others, they were nowhere to be found."
Deathbird's lip curled and the feathers atop her head and under her arms ruffled with the shiver that passed through her. She strode furiously across the dais to where Cyclops knelt and gave him a savage kick to the head. Gladiator grimaced as the X-Men's leader grunted and fell to the ground, blood spilling down his right cheek.
"They are probably all working with the damned Kree rebels," Deathbird hissed, eyes ablaze with paranoia and hatred.
"None of the Kree came to their aid, Viceroy,"Gladiator said. "I doubt that ... "
"When I want your opinion, Gladiator, I will command it of you," she roared. "If you and your fellow Guards were more than incompetent fools, all of the X-Men would be in this room, awaiting execution."
Gladiator heard hushed cursing behind him and felt the heat of Starbolt's power surging.
"That's enough!" Starbolt growled. "I would dearly have loved to see any of your personal guard last more than a few moments with the X-Men, Viceroy. The Imperial Guard is ever vigilant and loyal to the Majestrix of the Imperium. You would do well not to question ..."
"Starbolt," Gladiator said coldly, but with an air of command that caused the Guardsman to go silent.
"No, Gladiator," Deathbird said sweetly. "Let your man continue. After all, despite the Imperial Guard's failure and buffoonery, I have yet to question your loyalty. As Starbolt has breached the subject, and seems to hold the X-Men in such high regard, perhaps I was .hasty in assuming that your failure was due to cowardice or idiocy. Perhaps I ought to have thought about treachery and treason."
There was absolute silence in the Great Hall, broken only by the occasional groan from the unconscious Cyclops.
Far too often, Gladiator's temper had gotten him in trouble as a youth. Ashe matured, he had found a way to harness it, to bury it beneath reason, calm, dedication. He was a soldier, and a good one. That meant swallowing his personal pride from time to time and holding the pride of the Imperium above it. It was a hard discipline to learn, and once he had, remaining true to it was his entire life.
And yet ...
Surely, Starbolt had been out of line. It was possible that Deathbird could attempt to prosecute him for treason and insubordination, and perhaps even succeed. But Gladiator had taken just about all he could stand for from the Viceroy, and he wasn't about to lose one of his best warriors to her rampant paranoia, or worse, in one of her insane games of power and manipulation.
"You are silent, Gladiator," Deathbird said, eyes narrowing. "Could it be my words have struck upon the truth? Shall I have all five of you executed with the rebels, instead of just Starbolt?"
She looked at him with the gaze of a vulture sighting carrion. But Gladiator was no dead thing, unable to fight or even run. In truth, he was most dangerous prey, and not nearly as dull-witted as Deathbird so obviously assumed.
"Starbolt spoke in anger and haste, Viceroy, because you goaded and insulted him," Gladiator declared, stepping onto the dais and stopping mere feet from Deathbird.
"Do not test yourself against me, Praetor," she began, but Gladiator would not be stopped.
"As a member of the Royal Elite of the Imperial Guard, Starbolt will be officially reprimanded for his insolence, and there is the possibility of punitive action," he said. "However, such may only be determined by the Majestrix. And you," Gladiator said in a low, threatening voice, "are not she."
Deathbird's features contorted with rage.
"I do not need a reminder from one such as you!" she shrieked. "For your insolence and insubordination I will have you executed this very day! I will ..."
"You forget yourself. Viceroy," Gladiator said calmly. "You forget as well that few may claim to know the laws of the Imperium and the responsibilities of its citizens-and that of my post-better than I.
"I am not guilty of insubordination, but if I were, it would be the Majestrix's place to determine my guilt and punishment, just as it is in the case of Starbolt. As you instructed, we found the X-Men.Though we failed to bring them all back, we have captured their leader. You have decided to execute him, and as long as you have cause, that is your prerogative.
"As long as you continue to act on behalf of the Imperium and the Majestrix, and in accordance with her commands, the Imperial Guard is yours to command until the prisoners have been executed or we are recalled by the Majestrix herself. If you think to take some action against the Guard, I urge you to reconsider, at least long enough to consider the repercussions."
Gladiator turned away from the primal fury that warped Deathbird's features. The four Guards who had accompanied him, including the volatile Starbolt, stood well back from the dais, heads lowered and eyes on the stone floor. Cyclops still lay on the ground but, though his eyes were covered, Gladiator thought he seemed alert and awake. He had a moment of uncertainty, knowing that Deathbird was at least partially correct, that they had not fought as hard as they could have against the X-Men. He brushed the thought away. It did not matter to the questions at hand.
Once more on the stone floor, Gladiator turned to face Deathbird once again. She seemed to have regained much of her composure, but still stared at him with hate-filled eyes. She raised her chin and looked down her nose at him with a haughty manner he was long familiar with.
"Take the prisoner to the others," she said finally. "Confine them together, and they may die together at first light. Then take the Guard out again and search for the others. Do not return until you have found them, or the Majestrix herself shall have to come to retrieve you," Deathbird said, smiling cruelly as she gave the order.
Gladiator was tempted not to respond. It would be easy enough to follow the Viceroy's order and allow things to happen as they would. If it were not that he felt some guilt for his reluctance in battle, he might indeed have kept his silence. In the end, he could not.
"I do not question your wisdom, Viceroy," he began. "However, we have battled these X-Men in the past, as have you. You know their loyalty to one another. Don't you think the others will come back for their leader? And if so, should not the Guard be here to prevent them from freeing all the prisoners?"
"You slow-witted fool," Deathbird hissed. "They are involved with the rebellion, I have told you. The rebellion will not sacrifice itself for one individual, or four. And even if t
hey were foolhardy enough to storm the Capitol, which they must know would be tantamount to suicide, my own guards would be more than sufficient to repel and capture them."
Gladiator considered her words a moment, fighting the urge to respond. When he had overcome it, he motioned for the other Guards to lift Cyclops and convey him to the prison levels-far below them.
Not for the first time, Gladiator wondered if Deathbird was merely an evil, paranoid schemer, or truly insane. He still was unable to make a conclusive judgment, a fact that profoundly disturbed him. One way or another, Deathbird was unpredictable and dangerous. If the answer that his instincts gave was true, and the Viceroy was both evil and insane, then they might all be in grave danger.
• • •
His head throbbed dully where Deathbird had kicked him, and a more traditional ache had spread from behind his eyes to the back of his cranium. Still, Cyclops had lain silent, listening intently to the confrontation between Gladiator and Deathbird. If there had been any doubt in his mind that the Praetor of the Guard was in personal turmoil over the latest conflict with the X-Men, that conversation had erased it.
Unfortunately, Cyclops had encountered Gladiator frequently enough to know that the alien would do nothing to save him. Remorseful though he might be, Gladiator was loyal to the Imperium. Cyclops could not hope for rescue from that avenue. Luckily, that hadn't been part of the plan.
At the very moment the Imperial Guard had attacked the marketplace, Scott and Jean had communicated through the psychic rapport they shared. They had no idea exactly where in the Capitol Building Corsair and the others were being held, except that they were on a lower level. They had to expect that it would not be easy for Jean to telepathically scan for them, that there would be psi-blocks in place even if they had time for a complete scan. With Scott already on the inside, hopefully near or, even better, with the other captives, Jean could pinpoint them instantly through their psychic rapport.
Siege Page 15
