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            The  human race is evolving and society is struggling to keep up. Mutants are being  born with extraordinary powers, stirring fear and hatred in a world that  doesn’t understand them. Professor Xavier and his X-men fight for peace within  this hostel world. After recent events involving the Cambrian, however, that  fight has become much more complicated. 
            With  the Cambrian vanquished and Magneto in an unstable mental state, an  international coalition of peacekeeping troops has occupied Genosha. Their  official mission is to restore order to the island, but their unofficial  mission is much more ambitious. Under the leadership of General Nathan  Grimshaw, the occupying soldiers are scouring Genosha for weapons and  resources. This wholesale ransacking is not going over well with those running  Genosha and tensions are higher than ever. 
            The  X-men are stuck having to deal with these tensions, taking on an outraged public  that is demanding greater scrutiny for mutants. That scrutiny threatens to  upset mutant relations to new levels. In the midst of all this, Charles Xavier  is keeping a secret from his students. This secret, if revealed, could destroy  the X-men when they’re needed most. 
  
            
                
            
            Xavier  Institute – Front Yard 
            One  week had gone by since Rogue and Kurt left the institute. For Remy Lebeau, it  was the most difficult week of his life and for a former thief turned X-man  that was saying a lot. It weighed so heavily on him that he barely kept up with  the ongoing efforts to address the aftermath of the Cambrian. His had been  drowning himself in school work, cigarettes, and sex with Betsy. None of it helped  as much as he wanted. 
            He  was giving the cigarettes a chance again. It was that time of day when he went  out for his daily smoke break. Usually, this was a break he shared with Rogue.  They would sit together on in the front yard and just enjoy each other’s  company. It was often the highlight of his day. Now it was another difficult  reminder that almost took the fun out of smoking. 
            “Please  don’t tell me you’re already through half a pack, Remy. It’s not even noon  yet,” groaned an exasperated British voice. 
            Remy  turned with his cigarette only halfway done to see Betsy walking towards him  with her distinct sneer. 
            “Bonjour  to you too, cherè,” quipped Remy, “You’re looking as fine as you are  irritated.” 
            “Mixing  flattery with sarcasm is no way to get in your girlfriend’s good side,”  she said. 
            “Sorry,  Betsy. Remy don’t mean to be a jerk, especially to a beautiful femme who enjoys  wearing purple thongs. I just be off my game lately.” 
            “I  rarely doubt the sincerity of your apologies, Remy. But you’re so-called game is starting to worry me.” 
            Betsy’s  demeanor grew more serious as she sat down next to him. As annoyed as she was  with him, she still cared when he was clearly hurting. 
            “I  thought you were getting over this, luv. It’s been a week since Rogue left and  you’ve been hanging your head low ever since,” she said in a sincere tone, “I  also thought I was helping you. Was I just lying to myself?” 
            “Non,  you be doin’ all the right things, Betsy,” the Cajun replied, “Hell, most  femmes would leave a fella out to dry if he was this hung up on a girl he  wasn’t even dating.” 
            “How  many of those femmes have the patience to adjust to a new body and fight  an oversized mud ball? You should know by now I don’t give in that easily. I’m  British…not French.” 
            “Remy does know. He also knows he’s lucky to have a femme like you,” said  Remy, offering an affectionate gesture of his own, “This whole mess with Rogue  just went down so wrong. Remy keeps feeling like he screwed up in every way.” 
            “You  didn’t screw up. Rogue made the decision to leave, not you.” 
            “I  know. It still bugs me. Remy can’t help it.” 
            “You  feel responsible. I get that. But Rogue made it abundantly clear that she  didn’t blame you. If she wanted to get back at you that badly, she would have  done far worse.” 
            “If  she wanted to get back at Remy, I wouldn’t be in one piece. Rogue’s that kind  of femme,” said the Cajun with a half-grin. 
            “So  then what’s the bloody problem?” she asked, showing signs of frustration. 
            “The  problem ain’t just why she did it. The problem be how Remy can’t seem to get  over it. Rogue once told me we need to move forward with our lives…that she  don’t wanna hold me back because of her powers. But Remy never felt she held  him back.” 
            “Maybe  so, but she sure thought she did,” Betsy pointed out, “Take it from a telepath,  luv. Thoughts and reality are not mutually exclusive when it comes to  emotions.” 
            “That  or Remy was just too dang oblivious,” he sighed as he took a heavy drag from  his cigarette, “Don’t get me wrong, I wanna respect Rogue’s wishes. Now that  she’s gone, Remy can’t help but wonder. Even if it feels right, it don’t mean  it can’t be wrong.” 
            It  sounded like another one of Remy’s philosophical musings. They were the kind of  insights that even Mr. McCoy had trouble following at times. Betsy tried to let  it sink in even as she slipped her arms around the distraught Cajun. He wasn’t  just hung up on Rogue. He was hung up on the whole concept surrounding him and  Rogue. He was trying hard not to be, but it wasn’t enough.  
            Moving  in a little closer, Betsy rested her chin on his shoulder and watched him  finish his cigarette. As soon as he flicked it across the grass, he turned to  face her. 
            “I  can’t tell you how right or wrong Rogue’s decision was,” said Betsy, “But you  can’t move forward if you keep dragging your feet like this.” 
            “Remy  appreciates the honesty,” he said dryly, “Now you gonna tell me my breath  stinks?” 
            “Keep  smoking like this and I just might,” Betsy retorted, “I’m more worried about my  boyfriend’s mental state than his lungs. You once went out of your way to help  me adjust to life in this new body. I want to return the favor by helping you  adjust to this.” 
            “Remy  would like that,” said the Cajun, “Remy just ain’t he can get through this and  be the boyfriend you deserve.” 
            “We  won’t know until we find out now, will we?” she said coyly, “I may be a head  case after switching bodies, but I really like you, Remy. I like you and I want  to love you as much as you deserve.” 
            “That  ain’t a lot of love,” he muttered. 
            “I  also want to work on that self-esteem of yours too,” she said jokingly, “You  and Rogue had something special. That’s fine. Now that she’s left, you have a  chance to put that into a new perspective. I want to be there and I can’t do  that unless you trust me. Not just as a lover, but as someone who also wants to  do the right thing. Will you at least let me try?” 
            Remy  looked away for a moment. Betsy was no ordinary woman and it wasn’t just  because she was in a different body than the one she was born in. Any other  girl would have kicked him to the curb in a jealous rage over his inability to  get over Rogue’s departure. Betsy should be beleaguering him endlessly, but she  was better than that. In some ways she was too good. 
            It  didn’t seem fair that he was putting Betsy through this. As hard as it may be  to accept, this may end up being right in the long run since Rogue couldn’t  stop pushing him away. It wasn’t going to be easy moving forward from Rogue.  But if he was going to be Betsy’s lover, he had to give her a chance. 
            “Okay  Bets…Remy’s gonna let you try,” he said as he shifted his gaze back towards  hers, “And I’ll be doing my best to try along with you.” 
            “Just  put the same effort into trying as you do into blackjack and we should be  okay,” said Betsy with a playful grin. 
            “With  a look like that, Remy can save himself a bundle on extra packs of cigarettes.” 
            “What  can I say? I have that kind of power over men.” 
            Still  smiling, Betsy pulled Remy into a soft kiss. Even with the scent of tobacco on  his breath, it was just what they needed. Their relationship had plenty of  unusual circumstances. If they were going to make this relationship work, they  needed to take these kinds of chances. They lingered in their romantic embrace,  sharing in emotions both old and new. Their relationship was still a  work-in-progress, but they each seemed committed to doing the work now.  
            Once  the moment passed, their lips parted and they remained in an embrace. Then  Betsy’s demeanor shifted. As much as she wanted to help her lover through these  difficult times, she had other reasons for seeking him out and they had nothing  to do with Rogue. 
            “Something  wrong, cherè? Does Remy need a few breath mints?” said Remy coyly. 
            “No,  I was just…well, I was hoping we could give that trust I mentioned an early  test,” she said. 
            “Already?  Remy’s all for takin’ bold steps, but this be a little fast.” 
            “I’m  afraid it can’t wait. I’ve been keeping it in all week and I’m not sure how to  bring it up. I’m still new here and I don’t know how revealing this sort of  thing will go over with the others.” 
            “That  depends on what it is,” said the Cajun with increasing curiosity, “Does it got  anything to do with certain collections of magazines that be stored in Warren’s  old room?” 
            “If  only it were that juvenile,” she sighed. 
            Betsy  shifted awkwardly and turned away from Remy. Now it was Remy’s turn to be  worried. This didn’t look to be one of those little things that new couples  shared when they were trying to get more intimate. This was serious in a whole  other way. 
            “So  are you gonna tell Remy? Or do you want to leave him hanging?” he asked her. 
            “No…I  need to tell someone. I don’t know what we can do with it at this point, but I  have to put it out there,” she said strongly. 
            Taking  a deep breath, Betsy looked into the eyes of her lover and said what she had  been holding back for too long. 
            “I  think Professor Xavier is dying. And I think he’s keeping it a secret.” 
  
            
                
            
            Xavier  Institute – Gym 
            Piotr  Rasputin was adjusting nicely to his new life with the X-men. Compared life in  the Russian Mafia, it was a major step up. Not only had he found a place where  his sister could be treated, he had a chance to do something for the greater  good rather than compromise with madmen. 
            While  he hadn’t officially enrolled in any classes yet, Piotr fully committed himself  to the Xavier Institute’s ridged training regimen. He was already in great  shape and had full control of his powers. He had also undergone his share of  training while he was working for the Russian Mob. Never one to get complacent,  he took part in various Danger Room scenarios and work-out routines. One of his  partners through this process was Kitty Pryde. 
            “Ready  to begin, Petey? That last Danger Room session didn’t wear you out, did it?”  teased Kitty. 
            “I  assure you I have plenty of energy to spare, Katya. Although I do not remember  the Professor scheduling one-on-one training at this time,” said Piotr as he  stood across from the younger girl. 
            “He  didn’t. I scheduled it,” she said with a grin, “There’s only so much  training you can get fighting holograms and doing team drills that mostly  involve Cyclops barking orders. Sometimes you need to add a personal touch.” 
            “Is  that an official institute policy?” quipped the Russian. 
            “It  is now!” said Kitty with a grin. 
            This  was another part of the Xavier Institute that kept him on his toes. While his  new teammates were friendly for the most part, Kitty Pryde made an extra  effort. She was quickly becoming his closest friend and he was quickly learning  she had a unique way of doing things. 
            This  training with a personal touch as she called it was pretty basic. They  were standing across from each other in the main gym. Some of the machines had  been moved to the side to make room for some padded mats. In the center was a  large white circle that looked like it was designed for wrestling. While this  girl was nowhere near as strong as he was, she more than made up for it with  spirit and drive. That left little doubt as to what she had in mind. 
            “So  what are you waiting for? Stop trying to beat me by looking dumbfounded and  attack!” said Kitty with a toughness that would make any Russian Mob boss  proud. 
            “Um…not  to sound disrespectful, Katya, but I’m not sure attacking you would be appropriate,”  said Piotr awkwardly. 
            “Why?  You think because I’m a girl and not ripped like a Russian farm boy that I’m  not worth fighting?” 
            “No  it just…doesn’t seem fair,” he said. 
            “Give  me just five minutes and I’ll show you how fair I can be!” grinned Kitty. 
            She  didn’t give Piotr a chance to back out. With the killer instinct instilled by  her uncle, she Kitty attacked the oversized Russian. He remained reluctant,  only putting up a defensive move at first. She expected this and took full  advantage of it. Using her phasing powers, she ran right through him. Once she  was behind him, she delivered a hard kick to the back of his knee and caused it  to buckle. 
            “Augh!”  he grunted from the unexpected blow. 
            “Down  you go, Colossus!” said Kitty with a determined grunt. 
            Showing  off her agility, she leaped up onto Piotr’s shoulders and locked her arms  around his neck in a special grip. Then using some creative body maneuvers, she  flipped over and twisted his neck in a way that forced the Russian to fall flat  on his back. Once pinned, she rose up and placed her foot on his neck. This  sent a clear message that struck Piotr much harder than the actual attack. 
            “Think  I’m appropriate now?” she teased. 
            “I’ll  admit it. I’m impressed,” grinned Piotr. 
            “Does  that mean you’ll try to fight back this time?” 
            “My  commitment to the X-men would be a joke if I didn’t, Katya.” 
            Kitty  stepped back, allowing Piotr to return to his feet. His knee was still sore.  She hit harder than he expected. Now that element of surprise was gone and the  Russian mutant would not be so careless. 
            Once  he recovered, the two combatants took a defensive stance and stared each other  down. As they prepared their attack, they slowly started making their way  around the wrestling circle. It built a certain level of anticipation. Even  though this was supposed to be training, Kitty and Piotr sized each other up  and not just for their next attack. 
            “You’re  combat skills are quite advanced,” Piotr commented, “They strike me as skills  that most American teenage girls do not possess.” 
            “Well  most American teenage girls don’t have an Israeli Commando for an uncle,”  quipped Kitty, “Those same American girls learn to braid hair when they’re  seven. I learned a hundred ways to take a man down with no fewer than three moves.” 
            “Your  family allowed a girl at the tender age of seven to train like a Commando? Why  would they allow that?” 
            “They  did it so I would never be a victim,” answered Kitty, “The life of a middle  class American girl may not be as dangerous as a Siberian farmer, but it never  hurts to know you can kick ass when you need to!” 
            Kitty  demonstrated her commando skills with a swift attack. She made the first move,  grabbing Piotr by the arm and trying to pull off another take down maneuver. He  instinctively tried to push her off, but she showed more agility by ducking  lower and twisting his arm in the process. This nearly sent Piotr to the mat  again, but this time he countered with some skill of his own. The hulking  Russian pulled off a nimble spin move and used his body weight to force Kitty  back. It didn’t demonstrate the extent of his strength, but it showed he didn’t  rely completely on his muscles. 
            “Ah,  so you do have some fight in you!” said Kitty as she went on the  defensive again, “That little move didn’t look like something you learned on  the farm.” 
            “Nyet,  it’s a technique I picked up from Spetsnaz,” said Piotr as he flexed his  muscles a bit. 
            “You  were in Spetsnaz? My uncle told me about them. Says they’re the best of the  best when it comes to Special Forces…besides commandos of course.” 
            “They are the best,” he replied, “When I first joined the Russian Mob, it was  not enough for me to just be strong. They needed someone with killer instinct  as you say. As it just so happens, many of the Russian Mob’s best operatives  are ex-Spetsnaz. They were the ones that taught me how to be strong, fight  hard, and destroy any enemy.” 
            “Are  you trying to scare me into backing down?” said Kitty. 
            “I’m  giving you a fair warning of what you’re in for.” 
            Piotr  took the initiative this time and attacked. He put his body weight and size to  good use, driving Kitty back while using some fluid body movements to make her  second guess where the attack was coming from. He managed to get a grip on her  upper arm and use his shoulder to drive her down. She narrowly avoided being  pinned, able to slip off to the side without breaking Piotr’s grip. She  countered with another kick to Piotr’s knees. This time he avoided it and was  able slip behind her and used his arm to lock her in a powerful vice of muscle. 
            This  time Kitty’s size and stature were a liability. If this were anyone else, she  would have used her flexibility to slip out and counter. But Piotr was too  strong. Even when he wasn’t in his metal form, he overpowered her with ease. 
            “I  admit. This fight was more fair than I expected,” he told her, “But I feel it  would be wise for you to not push our luck.” 
            “Who  needs luck?” grunted Kitty, “I don’t even need my powers to get out of this!” 
            “You  know, there’s a fine line between boasting and foolishness.” 
            “There’s  also a fine line muscles in lower hip that you’re leaving unguarded!” 
            Piotr’s  eyes widened and in that momentary lapse, this teenage girl who had only a  fraction of his muscle was able to shift her body within his grip and free one  of her legs. Without using her phasing powers, she delivered a hard backwards  kick that struck at a very specific point between his hip and abdomen. Piotr  immediately felt a hard sting shoot up through his body. It was as if someone  poured ice water through his veins. Even with Spetsnaz training, he was stunned  for a full second. That was all the time Kitty needed to break free and make  her move. 
            Using  her nimble form to her advantage, Kitty slipped out of Piotr’s grip and did an  acrobatic flip to land right behind him. She went for the finishing blow,  jumping onto his back and slipping her arms around his neck so that she had him  in a choke hold. In addition, she drove her knee right into his back in a ways  that caused his balance to shift. Just like before, the imposing Russian fell  to the mat. This time Kitty didn’t let go. 
            “Who’s  the foolish one now?” she said coyly as she kept him pinned. 
            “Ungh…your  uncle trained you well,” commented Piotr with a hard groan. 
            “It  also helps to have a few X-men missions under my belt,” she added with a grin,  “Your size may intimidate every gangster in Russia, but it doesn’t scare me. I  don’t care if I have the build of your typical teenage girl. I’ll take on  anybody and find a way to take them down!” 
            “Are  you always this tough with new members?” 
            “To  a point,” Kitty shrugged, “I try to go out of my way to give extra attention to  special cases. And you definitely qualify, Peter Rasputin.” 
            Even  though Kitty had him pinned, her arms locking him in a choke hold while her  kneecap was digging into his back, Piotr couldn’t stop smiling. This girl was  something else. For someone of her age and stature, she was as tough as they  come. She wasn’t intimidated by his size or his history. He was beginning to  see why she was part of the X-men. He was also beginning to see some unexpected  perks to training at the Xavier Institute. 
            Kitty  and Piotr stayed in their compromising position even as an awkward silence fell  over them. They were still smiling and neither seemed to care that they were  still locked in a rough grapple. This moment was only halted when the doors to  the gym opened and Jean Grey entered. 
            “Whoa,  I thought the gym was only for training,” she said as soon as she saw Kitty and  Piotr. 
            “Uh…we are training, Jean,” said Kitty with an awkward blush. 
            “For  what? Radical alternatives to breaking in new recruits? Although that depends  on a loose definition of the term breaking in.” 
            Kitty  and Piotr exchanged glances. Now they were both blushing and figured it would  be an appropriate time to break from training. Kitty released the Russian from  her grip and helped him off the mat. Jean, who was in her work-out clothes,  looked all too amused. Piotr had only been with the team a week and already he  getting into awkward situations. 
            “I  apologize if our methods are inappropriate,” said Piotr, maintaining a  polite demeanor. 
            “No  need to apologize, Peter. That’s not the most inappropriate thing that happens  around here,” Jean pointed out, “But if you guys are going to train like this,  try and be a little more tactful. Other people use this gym too, you know?” 
            “You  talk as though it’s so outrageous Jean,” said Kitty dryly. 
            “At  the rate you’re going, that’s not all it will be,” she quipped. 
            Kitty  rolled her eyes as Jean made her way to the treadmills, laughing to herself  every step of the way. Kitty made sure she projected some annoyed thoughts.  They wouldn’t be enough to wipe that grin off Jean’s face, but it let her know  she did not appreciate her intrusion. 
            Despite  the awkwardness, Kitty and Piotr exchanged glances and smiled. It may not have  been the most productive type of training, but it was definitely more  interesting. Piotr showed a touch of shyness under her glance. He was still  getting used to this new environment while learning to carry himself around  brazen teenage girls like Kitty Pryde. Even if he was making progress, he still  had a long way to go. 
            “Guess  we should stick to more traditional training, yes?” said Piotr. 
            “Yeah…bummer,”  sighed Kitty. 
            “Bummer?  What is bummer?” asked the Russian in a confused tone. 
            “Ooh  boy, guess I’ll have to train you in American slang too.” 
            “I  see,” said Piotr awkwardly, “I suppose I have more to learn than I thought.” 
            “Don’t  worry, Peter. You’ve got plenty of qualified teachers around here,” she said as  she playfully latched onto his arm, “You’ll learn quicker than you think. You  pretty much have to. With guys like Magneto and the Brotherhood, you’re wits  get tested in all sorts of crazy ways.” 
  
            
                
            
            Genosha  – Underground Mine 
            “Will  you guys hurry it up? My hair’s getting whiter than it already is!” groaned the  always impatient Pietro Maximoff. 
            “Can  it, Pietro! It’s been five whole minutes since I haven’t heard you complain! Is  it so much to ask for a little bit more?” yelled a disgruntled Lance Alvers  from further up the mine shaft. 
            “Why  waste your time, mate? You know the louder you yell, the more you’ll annoy each  other,” said John Allerdyce, who was standing right next to Lance. 
            “Speak  for yourself,” muttered Lance, “It’s times like this I wish I had as many  screws loose as you do.” 
            Pyro  sneered in response. It was bad enough they had to run this little errand with Pietro when he was in one of his moods. He didn’t need this turning into a  three-way shouting match. 
            This  was one of those dirty missions the Brotherhood got stuck with all too often.  Since Magneto’s mental stability was now in question, everything was  disorganized. Wanda and Alex were doing their best to hold things together.  Wanda tried to work the diplomacy angle while Alex kept an eye on the occupying  soldiers. Since everybody had recovered from the Cambrian, the mutants of  Genosha were strong enough to resent being an occupied country again. This was  home to many mutants and they all resented being punished for Magneto’s  mistake.  
            The  air was already tense. Even though the peacekeepers brought medicine and  supplies, they were also raiding Genosha’s resources. While many were destroyed  in the citadel, some of their most important resources remained vulnerable.  That’s what brought them to the secret mine where so much of this conflict  began. 
            Since  soldiers from every country were scouring the island for any salvageable  technology, it was only a matter of time before they discovered the mine with  the alien space craft. If they got their hands on this, then Genosha would lose  its greatest asset. Even Wanda didn’t want that. That’s why she and Alex tasked  them with burying it to make sure it would never be found. 
            “Please  tell me we’re close. These caves are boring as hell,” said Pyro as he and Lance  stepped out from the mine shaft lift, using his flames to light the way. 
            “What  were you expecting? Dinner and a show?” scoffed Lance. 
            “I  have a short attention span. Sue me,” he said, using his powers to play with  his flames. 
            “Knock  that off, Pyro! It’s pitch freakin’ black down here and we need you to light  the way! So hold that crazy mind of yours together for just a bit longer, will  you?” barked Pietro. 
            The  speedster impatiently moved forward through the mine. Pyro and Lance groaned as  he followed with Pyro who was using his powers to create large balls of flame  to illuminate the path ahead. They were on the final stretch and the alien  craft was finally in sight. It wasn’t a moment too soon either because they  couldn’t stand Pietro’s attitude much longer. 
            “Seriously,  what is up with him today? He’s being a bigger dick than usual!” grunted Lance. 
            “Don’t  tell me you’re surprised, mate. I’m more surprised he isn’t being an even  bigger dick than this,” scoffed Pyro. 
            “What  do you mean? Is this more Australian sarcasm that can only come from a guy as  clinically unhinged as you?” 
            “If  only it were,” laughed John, “Since you haven’t been keeping up, I’ll give you  the short version. Havok is banging Lorna and it’s making Pietro sick to his  stomach.” 
            “Whoa…time  out. Lorna and Summers?!” said Lance, stopping in mid-stride. 
            “Yep!  Always had a feeling those two would hook up,” grinned Pyro, “They always had  that I-want-to-screw-you-so-bad look in their eyes.” 
            Lance  cringed at this revelation. He must have really missed something because this  was the kind of thing that guaranteed trouble. He noticed some attraction  between Alex and Lorna as well, but with everything that had been going on  lately he never thought they would be foolish enough to act on it. Turns out he  was wrong. 
            “Damn  it all to hell! We’ll need as much protection from Pietro’s bullshit as we will  the soldiers!” Lance groaned. 
            “Look  at it this way…if ever you get into an argument with him, you can always win by  reminding him who’s screwing his half-sister!” quipped Pyro. 
            “Hey!  I can still hear you assholes from down here!” yelled Pietro from the end of  the path, “You better cut the gossip crap or I’ll bury you guys down here with  that ship!” 
            “I’d  like to see you try,” muttered Lance, now hating this mission even more. 
            With  plenty of motivation to get this done quickly, Lance and Pyro caught up with  Pietro at the far end of the tunnel. This was the last tunnel before entering  the dome-like chamber where the alien ship resided. When they reached the end,  they stood atop a slight rocky platform overlooking the area. The ship hadn’t  changed much since Magneto was last here. It was still silent and showed no  signs of activity. 
            It  was hard to believe that this lone structure was behind so much of the conflict  that had plagued Genosha. Magneto once thought this ship would be their  salvation. Now it was a liability. It didn’t seem fitting that they would have  to bury this thing in order to protect their island. For all they knew, this  alien ship still had plenty to offer. 
            “So…you  think ET will mind if we knock over a few walls?” said Pyro. 
            “You’re  an idiot, Pyro,” groaned Pietro as he removed a backpack he had been carrying,  “Let’s hurry up and get this over. Wanda managed to sneak some high grade  plastique from one of the few bunkers the soldiers haven’t raided.” 
            “That’s  a lot of firepower for job like this. I would know,” commented Pyro. 
            “She’s  the Scarlet Witch. Leaving things to chance just isn’t her style,” the  speedster retorted, “We’ll need a big boom anyways. Since this place is a dome  covered in metal rock, we have to place the charges around the edge of the ship  and along some of the walls. Once we detonate them, it should fracture the  chamber.” 
            “I  can take it from there,” said Lance, who had a backpack full of explosives as  well, “I just wish there was another way. I mean how often are we going to have  an alien ship at our disposal?” 
            “You’ll  have to settle for Star Trek reruns from now on. This has to be done. The last  thing we want is some mutant-hating humans getting their hands on alien tech.” 
            It  was a sad but necessary act. The alien technology had already done a lot to  make Genosha as strong as it was up until the Cambrian. They had no choice but  to cut their losses. 
            Pietro  took care of most of the charges, using his super speed to run along the walls  of the chamber and put the explosives into place. Pyro and Lance took care of  the charges around the ship. Pyro made sure he kept two large balls of flame  going to ensure the whole area was well-lit. Once the charges around the ship  were in place, Lance went to work setting up the detonators. While he made sure  everything was synchronized, Pyro took a moment to admire the alien ship. 
            “Man  oh man, this is one sweet ride,” commented Pyro, “It’s a shame Mags couldn’t  get her up and running. I would have loved to take her for a spin in space!” 
            “Like  you could handle space travel,” said Lance dryly as he set down another charge. 
            “I  thought every kid wanted to be an astronaut at some point. Is it so wrong to  have dreams?” 
            “With  dreams like yours? Wrong takes on a whole new meaning.” 
            Pyro  shrugged at Lance’s comments as he continued to gaze over the alien ship. Since  the initial discovery, no one besides Magneto had been allowed to explore it.  After that first encounter with that Pulsar figure, the whole ship went dark.  By all accounts it was inactive. Whatever secrets it possessed, they seemed  lost. Magneto tried all sorts of things to get it up and running again.  Eventually, he gave up and focused his efforts on the Cambrian. Given how badly  that turned out, he probably should have stuck to the aliens. 
            While  Lance seemed preoccupied with the explosives, Pyro looked closer at the alien  craft. He walked up to the front where some metallic rock was already forming.  Even though it was silent, there was still an ominous presence to the craft.  
            ‘What  a waste. We have an alien space craft right in front of us and no aliens to  hang out with. I wonder what ol’ ET was like? Mags said the fella was all  energy. Bet those blokes knew how to have fun! If they even had a concept of  fun.’ 
            Grinning  to himself, Pyro redirected his flames slightly to illuminate the front side of  the spacecraft. He was able to make out a few strings of symbols. They were the  same symbols Magneto copied and obsessed over for a while after he found the  craft. He never figured out what they meant. It was probably impossible at this  point. That didn’t bother Pyro though. He was content to just be close to  something this cool. 
            As  he gazed over the symbols, he noticed a number of things. He was no expert on  alien language, but it was still easy to make out a few notable patterns. Some of  the symbols didn’t look like symbols. They appeared to be pictures of sorts.  Some resembled stars, some resembled galaxies, and a few even resembled these  strange humanoids. They all seemed to have their own meaning, but it was  difficult to get the full picture since some rock had crusted over and covered  the symbols. 
            “Hmm…looks  like there’s more to this alien picture book. The hell is with these damn rocks  covering everything? They’re cramping my style!” said Pyro as he looked closer,  “Since nobody’s gonna see this thing anytime soon, I might as well dig a little  deeper and leave my mark!” 
            With  Lance and Pietro still distracted, Pyro redirected some of his flames towards  the crusted rock. He made sure it burned hotter so it would be enough to flake  the small shards off the ship. Since these rocks were metallic, it took more  heat than he expected to get them to melt. True to his pyromaniac tendencies,  he ramped up his powers and made the flames hotter. 
            “Come  on you stupid pebbles! Burn off already!” he said with growing frustration. 
            “Pyro,  what the hell are you…” began Lance. 
            But  that was as far as he got. Before he or Pietro could scold Pyro, his flames did  something to the alien craft. The whole chamber was soon reverberating with a  humming noise. It seemed to radiate straight from the space ship. In addition,  the heat from Pyro’s flames caused the symbols he was looking at to glow in an  ominous red halo. 
            “Pyro!  What the hell did you just do?!” exclaimed Pietro as he ran back towards the  space craft. 
            “Nothing!  I was just trying to break some of these rocks off! I swear!” said Pyro  innocently. 
            “What  the hell makes you think burning it will do any good?!” 
            “Uh…it  seemed logical to me,” he shrugged. 
            Pietro  and Lance shot Pyro an engaged look. Logical for Pyro often had a very  skewed definition. They were in line to bury him in this mine along with the  ship, but they had a bigger problem on their hands. 
            The  alien ship was coming back to life. Lights all over the vessel turned on again.  They were all flashing as if it were an alarm of sorts. As it flashed, the  humming got louder and the vibrations caused the whole chamber to shake.  
            “I  think I made her mad, guys!” commented Pyro. 
            “You  think?!” exclaimed Lance. 
            “Can  it, Alvers! We’re going with Plan B!” said Pietro urgently. 
            “When  the hell did we make a Plan B?!” 
            “Five  seconds ago when blowing this place to hell got way harder!” 
            The  three men backed away from the blaring aircraft. As they did so Pietro reached  into his backpack and pulled out a remote control. When Lance saw this, it  didn’t take long for him to realize what he had in mind. 
            “Oh  hell no! Have you lost it too, Pietro?!” exclaimed Lance. 
            “We  gotta blow this place now, Lance! Which is why you should stop yelling and  start running!” grunted Pietro. 
            “Sounds  like my kind of Plan B!” said Pyro who was already sprinting full speed. 
            Lance  and Pyro didn’t stick around to argue. They were already on their way back to  the chamber entrance. Pietro lingered for a moment as he calibrated the detonator.  He was about to press the button when a blinding flash of light erupted from  the ship, causing him to drop the remote. 
            “Ahhh!  My eyes!” he cried out. 
            “Damn  it, Pietro! Where’s the remote?!” exclaimed Lance. 
            He  and Pyro ran back to help Pietro, shielding their eyes in the process. Pyro  helped Pietro up while Lance felt around for the remote. The shaking kept  getting worse. The humming at this point turned into a full blown siren. This  ship was about to do something and none of them wanted to be around when it  happened. 
            “Come  on, mate! Shake it off and run us out of here!” urged Pyro as he tried to  direct Pietro out of the chamber. 
            “No!  We have to finish…” 
            The  speedster was abruptly cut off when Lance ceased his search for the remote and  looked back towards the alien ship with terrified eyes. 
            “Uh…guys,  I don’t think we’ll be burying this thing anymore,” he said warily. 
            “Please  tell me that’s sarcasms!” groaned Pietro, his vision still blurred. 
            “He’s  not kidding mate,” said Pyro, who saw the same ominous scene as Lance, “I may  be nutty as a wanker, but I think ET’s about to phone home!” 
            The  three men fell back in confusion as they watched the ship erupt in a new fury  of activity. They tried desperately to get out of the chamber, but it was no use.  Before they could escape, a blinding flash of white light consumed the chamber. 
  
            
                
            
            Chicago,  Illinois – Downtown 
            “NO  MORE EXCUSES! NO MORE LIES! NO MORE EXCUSES! NO MORE LIES!” 
            “MAGNETO  IS A CRIMINAL! ARREST HIM NOW!” 
            “HUMANS  FIRST! MUTANTS NEVER! HUMANS FIRST! MUTANTS NEVER!” 
            It  was a dreary day in the heart of Chicago and it wasn’t just the weather. A week  had passed since the Cambrian onslaught and already people were taking to the  streets in protest. The initial support President Kelly garnered after he  rolled out the Mutant Security Agency had turned into hostility. To the people,  the MSA wasn’t enough. Mutants had to be confronted aggressively. 
            This  protest was by far the biggest in the country. There were over 10,000 people in  the streets holding up signs and chanting slogans around what was once the  Genosha embassy. Even though the building had been abandoned since Cameron  Hodge was overthrown, that didn’t stop people from taking their frustrations  out on it. People threw stones, rotten food, and pretty much anything else they  could find at the once prominent building. It was getting pretty nasty and the  X-men were there to watch over it. 
            Cyclops,  Wolverine, and Iceman were tasked with keeping an eye on this unfolding chaos.  Professor Xavier said he sensed some unusual hostility that set this event  apart from the many others that had erupted all over the world. So far it was  looking every bit as bad as they expected. 
            “Explain  to me how we got roped into doing this?” groaned Iceman as he stood with his  teammates on a rooftop across from the embassy. 
            “We  just happened to be testing the Velocity when the Professor called. Seeing as  how we were ready to take off and in uniform, he sent us here to investigate,”  said Cyclops as he watched the protests through a pair of binoculars. 
            “Talk  about lousy luck. And to think I gave up a nice relaxing mid-term in exchange  for some fresh air.” 
            “You  wanna stop whining or do I need to stop it for you?” snarled Wolverine, “You  don’t hear me complaining and I hate this riot patrol shit more than you!” 
            “I’ll  be quiet. Thanks,” said Iceman warily, “But if you hate it so much, why did you  tag along? The Professor only ordered me and Scott to check it out.” 
            “It  ain’t charity. Someone needs to tag along and keep you guys from screwing up.” 
            “That  and it gives you an excuse to avoid, Miss Munroe,” added Cyclops. 
            Wolverine  snarled angrily at the X-leader’s words. Cyclops was not intimidated, but added  nothing further to his comment. He remained focused on the mission at hand.  Somebody had to do it because Wolverine certainly wasn’t in the right frame of  mind. 
            As  much as he wanted to dissect Cyclops, the feral mutant only muttered a few  curses under his breath and turned his attention back to the riots. He hated it  when Scott Summers of all people saw through his angry shell. It wasn’t much of  a secret that he and Storm had been having problems lately. Since the Cambrian,  they hadn’t talked much. They hadn’t even gone out or made love. Storm asserted  she just needed some space. Wolverine was convinced it was more serious than  that. 
            Iceman  didn’t dare call Wolverine out on it. He was too miserable in this rainy  weather to be his joking self. Never-the-less, he was curious. Wolverine was a  lot easier to deal with when he had someone like Storm to mitigate that temper  of his. If they were on the rocks, then Wolverine was going to be a lot  moodier. 
            “Do  I even want to know the details?” said Iceman under his breath. 
            “Do  yourself a favor and forget it,” replied Cyclops, “You’ll sleep much easier at  night and won’t evoke as many three a.m. Danger Room sessions.” 
            “So  it’s really that bad? It’s times like this I’m glad I’m semi-single.” 
            “Semi-single?”  questioned the X-leader. 
            “Yeah,  that’s what Jubilee and I have worked out,” he explained, “We’re both burned  out on serious relationships so we’re keeping it casual. It saves us the  drama.” 
            “Right…I’m  sure that has plenty of potential.” 
            “You’re  going to judge me while all those protesters are judging our entire kind? Dude,  you’re better than that.” 
            Cyclops  rolled his eyes and went back to his observations. There were enough  relationship dramas between Storm and Wolverine. That didn’t even begin to  cover what was going on with Rogue and Gambit. It was times like this he was  glad he had such a strong relationship with Jean Grey. 
            Down  below the chaos with the protesters continued. It seemed to be escalating with  each passing moment. The riot police employed to keep the situation under  control seemed increasingly overwhelmed.   The discord in the crowd kept getting worse and it was hard to figure  out the reason. Any protest was chaotic enough, but there was a fine line  between a protest and a riot. All that was needed to cross that line was a  spark. 
            That  spark seemed to emerge when a figure emerged from the riot and climbed on top  of a nearby car. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, wearing camouflage pants  and a white shirt as if he was in some sort of paramilitary group. Once on top  of the car, someone from below handed him a bull horn and he began speaking  angrily to the protesting masses. 
            “WE’VE  HAD ENOUGH OF THIS SHIT! WE ALL KNOW THE SOURCE OF THIS PROBLEM! IT ISN’T JUST  MAGNETO! IT’S THE SCOURGE OF MUTATION ITSELF THAT WE ARE UP AGAINST! MAGNETO  WAS JUST ONE MUTANT! I SAY ONE IS TOO MANY!” 
            “YEAAAHHHHHHH!” 
            “THESE  MUTANTS WILL NEVER LET US BE! SO I SAY WE FIGHT BACK! TO HELL WITH THE  PRESIDENT’S SOFT APPROACH! WE MUST TAKE THESE MONSTERS DOWN!” 
            “YEAH!  TAKE THEM DOWN! TAKE THEM DOWN! TAKE THEM DOWN!” 
            This  lone figure tapped into the fears and frustrations that turned a protester into  a rioter. There was no critical thinking in a mob mentality. There was only one  common threat and that threat was mutants. From that moment on, this figure was  the leader and he led the charge against the embassy with newfound energy. 
            Up  on the roof across the street, the X-men saw this development unfold. It was no  longer possible for them to stand by and watch. The riot police didn’t have a  chance. Armed with this new anger, protesters were already climbing the fence  and attacking anybody who got in their way. 
            “Guess  it only takes one asshole to turn everything to shit,” grunted Wolverine. 
            “It  was bound to happen sooner or later,” sighed Iceman, “So what’s the plan?” 
            “If  they break those barriers, we’ll have a volatile situation on our hands and we  can’t afford any more bad press,” said Cyclops firmly, “We need to go down  there and contain this riot before it gets organized!” 
            “Normally  I hate busting up riots like this, but with the mood I’m in I could stand to  bash a few heads!” snarled Wolverine. 
            “What?  This isn’t your normal mood?” teased Iceman. 
            “Bub…you  ain’t seen me this pissed before! Trust me!”  
            Iceman  chose not to test that claim as he and Cyclops turned their attention to the  protesters. These kinds of missions were always the most complicated because  they couldn’t afford to hurt civilians. Mutants needed some good publicity and  cooperating with the authorities was the best they could hope for at this  point. 
            Setting  aside their observation gear, Iceman formed an ice slide to take him, Cyclops,  and Wolverine down to the action. As they slid along the icy path, their  presence was quickly noticed. Many protesters started pointing to the sky and  directing their slurs towards them. 
            “Look!  It’s the X-men!” 
            “Those  mutant goons! They don’t deserve to show their faces!” 
            “They  don’t deserve anything! Take them down!” 
            Some  protesters threw various forms of garbage up towards them as they slid by. Only  a few objects hit them, namely a few beer bottles and rocks. 
            “Our  adoring public,” groaned Iceman, “How do you think Superman keep such an  adoring public?” 
            “Start  wearing your underwear on the outside and figure it out later, Iceman! Right  now, I need you to reinforce the barriers with ice!” ordered Cyclops. 
            “Can  do, fearless leader! But if I get hit in the face with a rotten tomato, I’m  blaming you!” 
            They  passed right over the car where the lone protester was still shouting from a  bullhorn. The X-men ignored his hateful ramblings as Iceman fired a  concentrated ice beam towards the barriers that the riot police had set up.  Within seconds a thick icy shell formed over the structure. It helped reinforce  the ground the police were trying to guard and kept the protesters from  climbing over it. 
            This  was only part of the plan to maintain order. Cyclops did his part as well,  leaping off from Bobby’s ice slide and landing behind the barrier next to some  beleaguered officers.  
            “Who  the hell called you guys?” demanded one of the police captains. 
            “We  were in the neighborhood. Looks like you guys could use some help,” explained  Cyclops, “Before you say we’re just in the way, let me add that we’ve got  support from the MSA. If you feel we’re being intrusive, you can take it up  with General Grimshaw.” 
            The  X-leaders stern words silenced the officer. None of his men complained. They  welcomed the help and Cyclops was efficient at delivering. Using his optic  blasts, he blasted the ground nearby to form a trench to keep the protesters  from moving much further. He also aimed towards a couple of cars that had been  turned over and cleared some paths for extra vehicles to come through for  support. 
            “Finally!  We can stop looking so weak!” said one of the riot policemen. 
            “Get  some reinforcements in here!” yelled the captain, “Tighten the perimeter while  you’re at it! If one person starts destroying something, arrest them on the  spot!” 
            The  authorities seemed emboldened as they went to work, fighting back against the  protesters. Cars started moving again and SWAT team members wielding riot gear  moved in to reinforce the barriers. Between these reinforcements, the ice  blocks, and Cyclops’s firepower it seemed the protest would not be allowed to  get out of hand. Despite this turn, there were still those who fought on. 
            From  atop one of the cars, the middle aged man who was urging the protest into  violent territory was still yelling at the top of his lungs. The presence of  the X-men only served to intensify his rhetoric. 
            “YOU  SEE?! THEY’RE ALREADY TAKING OVER! WORKING WITH THOSE WHO CLAIM TO BE OUR  LEADERS! THEY DESERVE NO MERCY! TAKE THE X-MEN DOWN WITH THE REST OF THE MUTANT  RACE! TAKE THEM ALL DOWN!” 
            “TAKE  THEM DOWN! TAKE THEM DOWN!” 
            With  renewed energy, the protesters started pushing again. The man driving the cause  kept pointing towards Cyclops and Iceman, prompting those nearby to throw their  debris towards them to voice their disgust. The two X-men held their ground and  soon shifted their attention to the lone protester. 
            “I  didn’t think it was possible, but that guy is pissing me off even more!”  grunted Wolverine as he narrowly avoided a few empty soda cans. 
            “If  you want to do something about it, I doubt anyone would disapprove,” said  Iceman. 
            “Give  me one minute! I’ll shut him up!” 
            Snarling  angrily, Wolverine drew his claws and leaped off the ice slide platform into  the crowd. The sight of the feral mutant descending towards them was enough to  make many protesters back off, but some were still bold enough to stay near and  keep shouting their anti-mutant slurs. 
            “LEAVE  THE HUMAN RACE ALONE YOU FREAK!” 
            “YOU’RE  A MONSTER! YOU DESERVE TO BE PUT DOWN!” 
            Being  called a monster always got under Wolverine’s skin. He threatening sneer was  usually enough to scare people off, but these protesters were emboldened. This  anti-mutant loudmouth standing atop the car was providing extra motivation to  those who would usually think twice about confronting someone like Wolverine. 
            “YOU  SEE? THESE MUTANTS WILL NEVER STOP! THE ONLY SOUND WAY TO DEAL WITH FREAKS LIKE  THIS IS TO WIPE THEM OUT!” 
            “Bub!  You’re lucky I’m an X-man! Otherwise what I’m about to do would hurt a lot  more!” roared Wolverine. 
            Fueled  by both his rage and a very bad mood, Wolverine punched and shoved his way  through the protesters surrounding the car. He led with his shoulders and not  his claws to avoid turning this protest into a blood bath. Since most of these  working stiffs didn’t have an adamantium skeleton, he easily bowled several  people. Even the figure with the bull horn was surprised. He almost fell off  when he saw the feral mutant dig his claws into the roof of the car and pull  himself up. 
            “I…I’m  not afraid of you!” yelled the man. 
            “You  damn well ought to be,” he grunted. 
            Clenching  his fists, Wolverine swiftly cut the bull horn the man was using to pieces with  his claws. His attack was so swift that the man was still holding onto the  handle when it was over, which ended up being the only part left intact.  Remarkably, he remained defiant. For someone so misguided, he had guts.  
            In a  bold move that earned him cheers from the protesters, he lashed out at  Wolverine. The feral mutant could have easily ended him where he stood. That  probably wouldn’t look good in the press so he just casually avoided the  incoming blow and grabbed his wrists. The former living weapon was able to end  it quickly from there, using his strength to pull him in closer so he could  head butt him right in his skull. Thanks once again to his adamantium bones,  the man was cleanly knocked out. 
            “Consider  yourself lucky. That ain’t the worst I could’ve done…not by a long shot,”  stated Wolverine. 
            “BOOOO!  LEAVE HIM ALONE, MUTANT!” 
            “You  want to take a shot? Go ahead! I dare you!” roared the feral mutant, showing  his claws in a threatening manner. 
            Since  the protesters no longer had a figure to rally around, most were smart and  backed off. It saved them and the X-men from making this chaotic event worse  than it already was.  
            It  was still too soon to breathe a sigh of relief. Now that the anti-mutant  loudmouth was out cold, Wolverine laid him down on the top of the car. It was  too bad he wouldn’t be able to rough him up even more. Even if he turned him  over to the police, he would probably spend a night in jail at the most. That’s  what happened when anti-mutant sentiment was this bad. The authorities cut the  anti-mutant protesters a lot of breaks. He was about to meet up with Iceman  again when he noticed something suspicious. 
            “Hmm…why  does this guy reek of a stench I’ve smelled before?” he wondered. 
            He  looked closer, taking in the clothes he was wearing and the appearance he  presented. This guy wanted to look tough. There were few other reasons why  anybody would deck themselves out in camouflage pants, heavy duty boots, and  overly plain T-shirts. He came off as one of those paramilitary guys who loved  to act like soldiers when they were really just thugs. Then he noticed that he  was concealing a necklace under his shirt. 
            “You  gotta be shitting me!” said Wolverine as he pulled it out. 
            It  didn’t look fancy. It looked pretty darn cheap in fact. But what it lacked in  style it made up for with symbolism. It had the distinct shape of DNA with a  large letter H in the middle. Wolverine had seen this symbol before. It was a  symbol he thought he had seen the last of.  
               
  ”What’s going on, Logan? You’re not going to mug the guy too, are you?” said  Iceman as he came in on an ice slide. 
            “I’m  a lot more tempted now. Look at this!” said Wolverine as he showed Iceman the  necklace. 
            The  younger mutant recognized it as well. It took only a few seconds for a string  of unpleasant memories to come rushing back.  
            “The  Friends of Humanity?! No way! We shut those assholes down!” exclaimed Iceman. 
            “Looks  like they got a second wind,” grunted the feral mutant. 
            “This  is very bad. Last time these guys joined the anti-mutant party, we got sucker  punched with Bastion!” 
            “You  don’t need to remind me, Popsicle! Guess this shit with the Cambrian makes them  seem a lot less infamous.” 
            “Any  chance this guy is just nostalgic? This doesn’t necessarily mean the Friends of  Humanity are back, right?” 
            Wolverine  looked at Iceman with a bemused look. There was being optimistic and then there  was being just plain foolish. 
            “This  necklace is brand new. A grown man wouldn’t wear these things because they look  pretty. He wore this like a dog tag because he was here on a mission! And I bet  you all the booze in Canada it came from some new head honcho calling all the  shots!” 
            “Lucky  for me and your liver, I don’t take sucker bets,” muttered Iceman, “But Graydon  Creed is in jail. Who could have taken over?” 
            “Guess  we’ll find out when we meet them,” said Wolverine intently. 
            It  was not a promising development. These protests were bad enough. Now they had  taken on a new complication. The Friends of Humanity were the worst of the  worst when it came to anti-mutant sentiment. If they were somehow back in  business, the X-men and mutants as a whole faced a new level of danger.  
  
            
                
            
            Xavier’s  Office 
            Professor  Charles Xavier was officially cleared from the infirmary a week ago. He  appeared fully recovered from the Cambrian attack. He gave nobody any reason to  believe he was suffering from any lingering effects. If only they knew the full  extent of his suffering, they would never have let him leave his bed. 
            Xavier  still managed to carry on, not sharing his deteriorating health with the  others. He was maintaining his poise by a steady diet of prescription  medications that he kept on him at all times. He was already up to taking  twelve pills a day, more than the prescribed dosage Dr. Cecila Reyes had  recommended. He knew how dangerous it was to take more than the allotted  dosage, but his symptoms were too severe. He needed to keep himself  functioning. 
            Sitting  behind his desk, he was dealing with another round of heavy chest pains. It  seemed his cancer was attacking a new part of his body every day. He had been  hunched over his wheelchair for the past fifteen minutes, hoping it would pass.  Eventually, he caved and pulled out his bottle of pills. 
            ‘This  makes four and it’s still early in the afternoon. How much longer can I afford  to keep this up?’ 
            The  world’s most powerful psychic closed his eyes as he swallowed another pill. Within  seconds he felt the medications go into effect. The pain in his chest waned and  his breathing became steady. The opioids in the pills still left him dazed, but  he was used to that by now. It still made it hard to carry himself with his  usual poise. Such was the price of living on borrowed time. 
            “Charles?  Are you ready for us?” came a voice from outside his office door. 
            Xavier  quickly composed himself and stashed his pills away in his pocket. 
            “Oh  uh…of course, Hank. I didn’t expect you and Ororo to be done with class this  early,” he said between calming breaths. 
            “You  did say it was urgent. We can afford to end class a little early if we have  to,” said Ororo as she followed Hank into the office. 
            Xavier  cursed his choice of words. He would have liked a few extra minutes to make  sure he didn’t look like a heavily medicated cripple dying of cancer. He still  managed to maintain his professional demeanor, ignoring any lingering  discomfort as his two trusted associates approached his desk. 
            “So  what is this about? You said something about a disturbing message coming in  from Chicago,” said Hank. 
            “Yes,  I imagine you’ve been following the protests that have broken out there  recently,” said Xavier. 
            “It’s  pretty hard not to. Bad news seems to be the only news coming in lately,” said  Ororo distantly. 
            “It’s  about to get worse, I’m afraid. Cyclops, Iceman, and Wolverine made a startling  discovering during their mission. It seems the Friends of Humanity have  returned to the human/mutant conflict.” 
            The  two X-men shuttered at this news. Ororo seemed hardly surprised while Beast’s  eyes widened at this revelation. 
            “The  Friends of Humanity? That’s impossible! They were outlawed after the attack  they orchestrated in District X!” exclaimed Hank. 
            “I  was under that assumption as well, old friend. Then I called General Grimshaw  and he confirmed what Cyclops and the others uncovered.” 
            “Are  we supposed to be surprised in the slightest?” said Ororo dryly. 
            Hank  looked at Ororo strangely. Usually, she wasn’t this cynical. Many suspected it  was because of her declining relationship with Logan. Whatever it was, she  refused to talk about it and Professor Xavier did not have the energy to call  her out on it. 
            “The  General has had his share of obstacles since he started building up the Mutant  Security Agency. Since the Cambrian affair, President Kelly went so far as to  mobilize the Army Corps of Engineers to help speed up the organization’s  deployment. They’ve began construction projects in all fifty states, setting up  hubs for the MSA and mobilizing newly hired officers to act as agents. As he  began linking each one of these hubs, he picked up on some new activity from  anti-mutant groups.” 
            “But  the Friends of Humanity wasn’t one of them, was it? Otherwise we would have  found out beforehand,” Hank surmised. 
            “You  are correct, Hank. But something changed,” Xavier stated, “Shortly after the  Cambrian incident was resolved, all these anti-mutant groups were mobilizing  with greater efficiency.” 
            “How  do you know that just isn’t a result of the growing anti-mutant sentiment?”  asked Ororo. 
            “To  mobilize that efficiency takes leadership and resources,” Xavier explained,  “The General says the NSA has also picked up some chatter regarding a new  influx of resources to these groups. I suspect someone very well-connected is  pulling the strings.” 
            “How  can that be? Graydon Creed is in jail! He didn’t escape, did he?” said Hank. 
            “I  checked on that. He’s still incarcerated, but was recently moved to a medium  level detention center.” 
            “Why  on Earth would they do that after what he did in District X?” exclaimed Ororo. 
            “I  was told it was for good behavior, but I suspect the anti-mutant sentiment gave  him some sympathy from the judge processing his case.” 
            It  seemed as typical as it was disheartening. Graydon Creed was a dangerous man  and the authorities were giving him a break. Even if mutants had been getting a  lot of bad press lately, it could only be made worse by Graydon Creed’s  influence. 
            “Could  this have anything to do with the recent mobilization?” suggested Beast. 
            “It  might, but I don’t think so,” said Professor Xavier, “General Grimshaw suspects  that other forces may be at work and I agree with him.” 
            “Is  he going to help us figure out what those forces are or is this something we’ll  have to investigate on our own?” asked Ororo. 
            “Like  I said, the General is currently overwhelmed with the responsibilities of  building the MSA. Bear in mind he still has Toad in custody and he’s been  trying to process him through the system.” 
            “Yet  he still can’t find time to investigate a group that has no problem supporting  genocide?” Ororo retorted. 
            “He  probably figures the situation is fragile enough. President Kelly’s approval  has been shaky in wake of his actions on Genosha. Many wanted more aggressive  measures taken against Magneto. Some are still calling for him to be put on  trial for war crimes again.” 
            “After  how that turned out the first time I don’t blame him for avoiding that path  again,” said Beast. 
            “It’s  not out of the goodness of his heart, I assure you. So long as the Cambrian is  being written off as an accident, he knows they have no solid case. Seeing as  how many remain suspicious of this explanation, it would be wise not to push  the issue.” 
            Hank  agreed with Xavier’s assessment while Ororo remained skeptical. It may just be  bitterness stemming from her relationship issues, but it sounded like General  Grimshaw was just making excuses. The Friends of Humanity had the potential to  be as big a threat as Magneto. For him and the MSA to leave it to the fates was  a serious shortcoming. 
            “So  what are we going to do about this, Charles? I’m assuming the burden falls on  our shoulders,” said Ororo. 
            “I’ve  already started making plans. Now that Wanda has control over Genosha, the  X-men can dedicate more of their resources to threats of this nature. General  Grimshaw has already forwarded the government records he has on the  organization and Warren has also been helping by providing the data he compiled  while Creed was working with his company.” 
            “I  can also enlist Tessa’s help. If the Friends of Humanity are getting this  organized, they should leave a few electronic trails for us to follow,” offered  Hank. 
            “Her  help is always appreciated,” replied Xavier, “I’ve also calibrated Cerebrum to  do a number of searches on known Friends of Humanity associates. With any luck  we should be able to…” 
            The  Professor’s words unexpectedly trailed off. In a seemingly immediate shift he  looked tired. It was as if something just sucked the life right out of him. 
            “Charles?”  said Hank curiously. 
            “Are  you still with us?” asked Ororo, waving her hand in front of him. 
            His  gaze grew increasingly distant. One moment he was completely lucid and the next  he looked as though he was about to faint. Hank and Ororo looked at him  strangely, showing increasing concern. They both moved in closer to observe  what was happening. Hank tried to shake him from his daze. 
            “What’s  wrong with him?” asked Ororo anxiously. 
            “I…I  don’t know. I think he’s having a seizure!” said Hank urgently. 
               
  “But I thought he was done recovering from the Cambrian attack!” 
            “I  don’t think this is a product of the Cambrian,” he said ominously. 
            While  Hank and Ororo tried to snap him from his daze, the mind of Charles Xavier was  paralyzed from within. A strange feeling overtook his mind. It was a feeling  that robbed him of any control over his body. Panic quickly set in as he feared  the worst. 
            ‘No…this  can’t be happening! Not now! The cancer…it shouldn’t be doing this! It…’ 
            His  chaotic thoughts were suddenly cut off when something else hit him. This time  it was even stronger. As if it weren’t bad enough, this didn’t feel anything  like cancer. 
            “AUUUUGGGHHHHH!”  cried the Professor as he clutched his head and fell out of his chair.  
            “Charles!”  exclaimed Hank as he caught him before he hit the floor. 
            Hank’s  medical training kicked in as he and Ororo surrounded the Professor. His frail  body contorted as if something was twisting it from within. Then he opened his  eyes in something even stranger happened. 
            “The  Shi’ar bloodline…has been found.” 
            When  he spoke, it sounded as though it came from a computer rather than a human  being. It took Hank and Ororo aback. As soon as he said these mysterious words,  the Professor passed out. He no longer appeared to be in pain, but his eyes  kept glowing. This certainly didn’t look like a regular manifestation of his  powers. When something was powerful enough to affect the world’s most powerful  telepath, it was usually a bad sign. 
            “The  Shi’ar? Is he talking about…” began Ororo. 
            “I  suspect this is something worse,” said Hank grimly, “That encounter he had with  the alien ship…it spoke of some mysterious bloodline.” 
            “But  I thought we took care of that alien! We haven’t heard a word about these  Shi’ar ever since!” 
            “Something  must have changed,” reasoned Hank, “Whatever it is, I fear our predicament with  the Friends of Humanity just became a secondary concern.” 
  
            
                
            
            Genosha  Mine 
            “WHAT  THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!” 
            Pietro  Maximoff’s enraged voice filled the mine as he, Lance, and Pyro tried to escape  the path of the alien ship. Any hope that they could salvage this mission and  bury this space craft had gone out the window. This advanced technology was  active and about to do something they had little hope of understanding. 
            “I  uh…I hate to use Star Trek as a reference, mates. But I think it’s taking off,”  said Pyro as he shielded his eyes from the pulsating light. 
            “Taking  off?!” exclaimed Lance, “We’re three thousand feet underground! How the hell is  it going to…” 
            Lance’s  question was answered before he even finished asking it. The alien craft was  now hovering in midair. The flashing red lights shifted to bright blue. The  loud vibrations caused the rock literally flake off the chamber walls as the  craft hovered. Then in a dazzling display of power, the entire craft shot up  through the top of the chamber as if it were fired from a cannon. It rode a  bright blue laser beam that tore right through the roof of the dome, allowing  it to ascend through thick layers of rock in mere seconds. 
            The  three Brotherhood members were forces to take cover. They had to completely  cover their eyes and their bodies as the bright blue light inundated the entire  mine. It was over after about five seconds, but it might as well have been five  lifetimes. When all was said and done, a dense layer of dust consumed the mine.  Lance, Pyro, and Pietro dreaded opening their eyes. There was no telling what  this ship had just done. 
            “Please  tell me it’s over!” groaned Pyro. 
            “You’re  the one that set it off! You figure it out!” barked Pietro, whose eyes were  still recovering. 
            Pyro  groaned as he rose up, emerging from the mine shaft and looking back towards  the chamber. It was hard to see through the dust, but there was a light in the  distance so something was obviously ahead of him. A lot of rock had fallen off  from the walls and ceilings so the terrain was much rougher. By the time he got  to the chamber, the dust had cleared. What he saw didn’t necessarily take him  by surprise. It just confirmed what he already suspected. 
            “Well  I’ll be a kangaroo’s gay uncle,” he gasped, “Guys! Come over and check this  out!” 
            “How  bad is it?” groaned Lance. 
            “I  honestly couldn’t tell you, mate.” 
            Lance  and Pietro quickly caught up, joining Pyro on the ledge where he was standing.  When they looked into the chamber, they were just as deadpanned. 
            Where  there had once been an alien ship, there was now just a pile of rocks. But that  wasn’t what got their attention. In the ceiling where the roof of the dome once  resided, there was now a gaping hole. It was perfectly circular, forming a  perfectly forged tunnel that went straight up through the rock and towards the  surface. It was so perfectly cut that it allowed light from the afternoon sun  to shine into the mine. It explained the light source and it also explained  what happened to the ship. 
            “Okay,  who wants to explain this one?” said Lance. 
            “Not  it!” said Pyro quickly. 
            “Who  says we have to explain it? It’s gone now. Genosha has officially lost the one  thing that made it the most important island on the planet!” 
            “Isn’t  that a good thing? Our mission was to make it so the humans wouldn’t get their  hands on it.” 
            Pietro  looked over towards Lance and scolded him angrily. 
            “Look  at the bigger picture, Alvers! Now we can’t use it either! That alien  technology was our trump card! Why do you think my father went through so much  trouble to study it?!” 
            “I  thought he gave up on it! The damn thing went silent!” retorted Lance. 
            “Well  it sure didn’t stay that way, did it?” 
            Lance  and Pyro fell silent. For once, Pietro’s outrage was justified. This space  craft had been the driving force behind Genosha’s bloody history. They saw firsthand  the kind of technology Magneto was able to extract. It was this technology that  helped Genosha become the technological powerhouse that made it a mutant haven.  Now it was gone. 
            “That  isn’t even the worst part,” said Pietro ominously as he looked up through the  chasm. 
            “Oh  really, Mr. Big Picture?” said Pyro dryly, “Then what is the worst part?” 
            Pietro  Maximoff clenched his fists as he remained fixated on the heavens. A sick  feeling was already forming in the pit of his stomach and it wasn’t going away  anytime soon. 
            “For  all we know, that space craft is on its way back to whoever or whatever sent  it. I don’t know about you guys, but I wouldn’t want a whole fleet of those  things heading our way. Something tells me they won’t come in peace.” 
  
            
                
            
            Deep  Space – Shi’ar Boarders 
            The  vast emptiness of the cosmos was deceiving at times. Any race advanced enough  to traverse the great distances understood that the vastness of the universe  was often filled with a whole lot of nothing. The minuscule points of interests  in this infinite expanse were easy to overlook. Between trillions of stars and  trillions of planets, even sophisticated space-faring civilizations could take  for granted how important one tiny point in the universe could be. 
            A  lone ship known as the Starjammer would certainly count as one of those tiny  things that would be easy to miss. That was actually a good thing in this part  of the galaxy. The Starjammer and many of the beings inside it had the  misfortune of being on the bad side of the Shi’ar imperial leadership. This was  quite possibly the worst kind of misfortune to have because the wrath of the  Shi’ar was something that not even the vastness of space could protect against. 
            For  this reason, the Starjammers were outlaws. They were regarded as thugs,  thieves, and dissidents by the Shi’ar imperial order. To those who lived their  lives in fear, they were much more. They were freedom fighters. In fact, they  were probably more free than any Shi’ar citizen. Led by the charismatic human  known as Corsair, they stood in defiance of galactic tyranny. So when something  came along that got the attention of the Shi’ar Imperial leadership, it got the  Starjammer’s attention as well. 
            “Corsair!  Come take a look at this!” exclaimed Hepzibath, a white skinned and lightly  furred female of the Mephitisoid race. 
            “What  is it? If it’s another imperial scout cruiser, go ahead and start shooting,”  said Corsair, who was pacing restlessly along the bridge of the ship. 
            “Since  when would I bother you with something so common?” she retorted, “Waldo just  picked up something on the long range quantum scanners. Some mysterious signal  just appeared out of nowhere and self-destructed in a few nanoseconds.” 
            “Mysterious,  but hardly interesting,” he scoffed, “How do know it’s not some stray signal  that got jacked by smugglers?” 
            “I  know because of where it originated. It’s a little speck in the universe you’re  very familiar with…a planet known locally as Earth.” 
            Corsair  grimaced. It was the one planet he resented more than the Shi’ar home world. It  was the planet where so much pain and hardship plagued him. Since he left all  those years ago, his hair had turned almost completely gray, he lost his right  eye, and he broke enough bones to be his own medical marvel. He shut out many  of the memories he had of his home planet. He swore he would never return. Fate  must have it out for him because it kept him from keeping so many promises. 
            “How  much attention is D’ken giving this signal?” asked Corsair. 
            “Sikorsky  started monitoring some imperial chatter. It looks like the Imperial fleet has  already dispatched an attack cruiser to investigate,” replied Hepzibath. 
            “They  must know something we don’t and you know how much I hate it when D’ken is  smarter than me.” 
            “Does  this mean what I think it means?” 
            “Do  you even have to ask?” he said in a dark tone, “Tell Ch’od to set a course for  Earth. Go to max warp! We need to beat D’ken to the punch!” 
            “I  was hoping you would say that,” she smiled, “I knew your bitterness towards  your home planet could never match your hatred for D’ken.” 
            “You  know me well,” he sighed, “Also, tell Waldo to decipher that signal as well. I  want to know what D’ken finds so interesting about Earth and why he’s willing  to shell out major firepower to get it. We have a chance to annoy the hell out  of him so let’s not waste it!” 
The order was given and Hepzibath complied. She  sent the message to Ch’od, a Saurid born pilot with a rap sheet against the  Shi’ar that was second only to Corsair’s. Within minutes, the ship was on a new  course. It would be a long trip back to Earth, giving them plenty of time to  figure out this signal. Even his war ravaged face showed some rare emotion.  This was more than just an investigation to him. This was another chance to  avenge the many horrors D’ken had inflicted on him and so many others  throughout the galaxy.
                
            
          Next Issue: Starcrossed 
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