Shifting Sands -- The Lone Wolf And
The Goddess
Part
Seven
story by D. Briganti
written by Valegra
"Where is the
mutant?"
Rex stood trembling before
the imposing figure of the cyborg known as Bolivar
Trask. Clearing his throat
a couple of times, he began to speak in an almost inaudible tone.
"We...We've failed, Boss. That hell-spawned guy wiped out all my men in
less than five minutes... I'm the only one..." Rex stammered nervously. He
was going to say he was the only one left, but the truth was, he was the only
one of his bunch who hadn’t gone into hiding after the incident. He was either
the bravest or stupidest of them all.
Rex had barely seconds to
speculate over that thought before a large metallic fist
reached out and grasped the
lapels of his trench coat. When Rex chanced a glance at the
big half, man half machine
face, he was faced with full blown rage. The hate in Trask’s one
good eye had him shaking.
"How could such
incompetence be possible?! You were TWENTY! I gave you
weapons! And you come back
like a dog with your tail between your legs, ALONE! And
you tell me you were
defeated by one man?!"
"But Boss! He ain’t
human! I saw flames comin’ out his body!" Rex panted while
trying frantically to free
himself from the steel grip.
"Not human, eh?
Flames? This is interesting," the steel fingers released their
struggling captive. Rex
settled back on the hard floor with a loud thump, just barely
catching himself before
falling over. Turning from the large heap that made up Rex, Trask
turned to the large council
behind him. Pushing several buttons, he ran a scan over the
area that Rex had just
exited. As before a single red light beeped to life. "Odd, that this
man does not register as a
mutant. This changes things somewhat," he stated to no one in
particular.
"Don’t matter, what
that stinking machine says. I know what I saw," Rex protested loudly,
defensively.
When the big metal man did
not immediately comment, Rex looked up to see that
his one good eye as well as
the blood red one were trained hostily upon him once again.
The look in them, made
Rex’s skin grow cold. "You would do well, Rex to speak of this
‘stinking machine’ with a
little more respect least you find yourself before the barrel of one
of its guns."
Dismissing Rex, Trask quickly pushed a button beside a small microphone
and roared, "Hanger
5," he spoke in the microphone. Before his fingers a separate display
flashed to life and in the
display was the technical schematics of five of his finest beta class
assault sentinels. Punching
several other buttons, the schematics began flashing, coming to
life with every stroke of
his fingers on the controls.
Sneering with satisfaction,
Trask turned from the council to Rex, who had managed to edge himself to the
door discretely. "You may go home. I will settle this affair in my own
way."
Not waiting for inscribed
instructions, Rex turned on his heels and fled the room.
Trask
watched him flee like the dog he’d earlier compared him to. "You’ve failed
me, Rex, but then that’s no more than I expected of you. Now to take care of
this non-mutant sorcerer who throws flames."
* * * * *
Remy sat in the shadow of
one of the larger buildings of the town. From the smell
of the place, he surmised
it was some sort of bar, though he didn’t enter. Shuffling the
deck a third time, he
flipped over the top card, briefly noticing the ace of diamonds before
replacing it at the bottom
of the deck.
"Stupid mutie," a
grumbling man stated not far from where he sat.
Glancing up briefly, for
he’d known that the two men heading to the bar would get
there eventually, Remy went
back to shuffling the deck. The man’s next words caught his
full attention however.
"That mutant girl ain’t
worth it. I say we go out there and burn the damn house down," the first
continued.
The second man, slightly
smaller with a balling spot on the side of his head, shuddered. "Don’t
look at me, man. Ain’t draggin my tail back out there. Far as I’m concerned he
can keep the mutant freak."
Rising slowly to his feet,
Remy tucked the bag into the shadows behind an old trashcan. Adjusting his
jacket, he stepped out from beside the building, his face having been obscured
by shadow. But even so the men saw him. The taller of the two reached behind
and flipped out a pocket knife. The blade was so dull, the sun refused to
reflect off of it.
"Who the hell are you,
buddy," he shouted glancing around to see if anyone else was within
hearing range. There was no one else. The smaller man beside him, puffed out
his pathetically pudgy
chest and looked as if he wanted to advance, but he didn’t.
Reaching into his pocket,
Remy slipped the cards in a pulled out a cigarette and a
match. In moments that butt
was lit and a thin stream of smoke make its way into the air
around him. His calm was
nearly frightening. The two men became stiff with nervousness.
They couldn’t see his eyes,
but they felt the threat he posed. But to whom was the threat
directed?
"Been hunting a mutant
woman for the past few months, hommes. Last I saw her,
she came dis way,"
Remy stated simply.
The smaller man took a
nervous step forward. "You with some agency?"
"Been huntin’ mutants
for several years, homme. You tell me where she
is, she’ll be taken care
of." Remy knew he was taking another gamble. By pretending to
be a mutant hunter, he
hoped that the two men would confide in him simply because
they believed he was
another form of one of them.
"Okay," the
taller of the two stated with a calculating gleam in his eyes. "That
mutie is several miles
north of town. Big house in the middle of no where, can’t miss it."
"Fine, homme,
tanks," Remy stated melting back into the shadows, and to the two
men it looked as if he’d
disappeared.
"Why’d you tell him,
Jake?" The smaller man asked several minutes later after
entering the bar.
"Guy wants to go after
the bitch, let him. Long as my ass ain’t on the line, I don’t
care," that stated the
man named, Jake lifted his tall glass of beer and wincing from his
busted
lip took a nice long swig.
* * * * *
Ororo woke with a start.
Opening her eyes she saw that she’d slept through the
night, as the light of a
new day illuminated the room, stretching the shadow of the thin
dresser over the large bed.
Looking over the edge of the bed, she saw that the pallet that
Sid slept upon had been
removed. From downstairs she could hear him moving around in
what must be the kitchen,
as she heard pots and pans being settled along with a multitude
of muted curses. Sid may be
a fine cook, but it obviously didn’t come easily.
Taking several calming
breaths, Ororo slowly sat up so she leaned against the
headboard. The room was so
silent without Sid there, was her first thought. Her second
thought was of the amount
of time she’d spent recovering. How was she going to get the
photo’s back to Xavier, if
she could hardy walk, let alone fly without fainting from exhaustion? And
Goddess, what if she was bleeding internally? She wouldn’t know until it
was too late, if she wasn’t
looked over soon.
"Morning, Angel. From
the look on your face, I’d say you’re worrying. Care to
tell me, what you’re
thinking?" A speculative male voice asked from the bedroom
doorway.
Ororo looked up to see Sid
standing just inside the door, holding a tray similar to
the one, they’d shared the
night before. Just before they were so rudely interrupted.
Shaking the worry of the
film aside for now, Ororo gave Sid a welcoming smile. "You
should not give up your bed
for me. Surely you have a guestroom. I feel very guilty
having you sleep on the
floor of your own room," she said watching as Sid set the tray
down on the bed side table.
Once the tray was set, he
turned to her and sat on the edge of the bed. There was a
light in his silver eyes
that had Ororo expecting... something. "I happen to like you exactly
where you are, Angel."
With that he leaned forward and captured her mouth with his.
Tensing at first, Ororo
soon relaxed as he continued the onslaught on her senses. When
they broke apart, Ororo was
somewhat disturbed to find Sid’s fingers tangled in her hair.
She hadn’t felt him put
them there. Neither did she remember wrapping her own arms
around his neck. Surprised,
she tried to discretely remove them. Sid caught one of her
hands before it fell back
to the quilt. "Tell me, Angel, what does your X-men family call
you," he asked.
Ororo tried to ignore the
fact that his voice was husky with suppressed desire.
"Storm," she
stated trying to ignore the fact that her voice was whisper soft and
breathless.
Chuckling, Sid laid her
hand on the quilt and reached for one of the plates on the
tray. Stalling for time,
giving Ororo a chance to regain her composure. Damn it felt good
to have that effect on a
woman again. If Ororo knew how flushed and bewildered she
looked she’d run for cover
for sure. "It suits you," he said referring to more than her
name. He set the first
plate on his lap and positioned the tray with the other plate over
Ororo’s lap.
"Sid about
yesterday," Ororo began some time later after they’d finished off a
breakfast of pancakes,
eggs, bacon, milk and orange juice. Sid removed the tray from her
lap and was now sitting in
the chair beside the bed. As usual it was turned backwards and
Sid leaned along the back.
Ororo realized that she liked Sid’s hair as it was this morning.
Freshly washed and slightly
damp. It had felt good to her touch as it was free falling
around his shoulders.
"We should talk about what happened," she said reaching for a
comb that Sid had placed
beside the bed in the spot where the tray had been.
"Well, Angel, from
where do you want me to start?" he asked watching Ororo
comb her silver white hair.
He couldn’t decide if he was more fascinated by her hair or the
flexed muscles in her arm.
"First of all, are you
a mutant? I saw you fight those men using some sort of fire.
From where does it
come?"
"No, I'm not a mutant.
My abilities are not inborn. I acquired them through a ritual
long ago and far, very far,
away." Pressing his lips firmly together, Sid recalled those
unpleasant days.
Ororo did not miss the
hesitancy in his voice or the sadness in his eyes. "What sort
of ritual?"
"A group of monks, a
while back, called upon the forces of chaos and entropy.
They channeled those forces
into my spirit. The ritual was called the Great Void Plane. I
spent months recovering
from the damage done to both my body and soul... and I still bear
the scars, both outside and
inside. It was some time later, that a magician helped me control the power,
and taught me how to use it properly."
"I do not understand.
Why did you agreed to undergo such a terrible thing?"
Sid gave a brief glance to
the hills outside the windows. Following would be a tale
he did not want to tell,
but he had to tell someone, sometime. Why not the woman he loved? "I
wasn't born on this plane, this reality you might say, but on another that was
almost its perfect copy. Where I came from there were no super-
beings. No mutants, no
super-soldiers, no alien
races, except in the movies. There was no sentient machinery. I
grew up in Los Angeles, and
life was all but easy for me. My family was poor, and I had
younger sibs to care for
while my parents were working to earn a living. My frame was
frail when I was a child,
so it didn't take me very long to attract the attention of the local
bullies.
"For a time it was the
usual story. The little guy getting beat up by the bigger, meaner guys. Being
small like I was, I always ended up with my face down in the mud, usually with
a foot on my back. You could say that’s where my problems started. After that,
I grew up a real angry kid. Always getting in trouble with the law, not going
to school, messing with the wrong crowds. When I was around fifteen, I decided
enough was enough. I left home. Left my younger brothers and sisters and just
started walking. Picked a few pockets on my way, gathered a little loose
change, hopped some planes. Hell, Angel, I don’t know how I did it, but I ended
up in Japan of all places. It was as if the place was calling to me.
"Anyway, I decided as
long as I was there, I’d find someone to teach me how to fight. Someone to
teach me martial arts. I guess I watched too many karate movies growing up. I
wanted to learn some real deadly stuff, so I could go home and teach those
bastards a lesson. I was so stupid. I just walked out and left everyone who
loved me behind, so I could take out a gang of jerks who’d picked on me. Well,
I guess, the instructors who saw me, saw something lacking. Not one of them
allowed me entrance in their schools. I was a gaijin - a stranger. But I didn't
give up. I didn’t have anything to go home to, so I stayed in Japan. Steeling
what I could, living where I could. Picked up the local dialect soon enough. I
started spying teachers while they exercised and gave lessons to their
students, and began practicing in the secrecy of my poor fisherman's home. Time
passed, and I started improving, I guess. While I didn't reach the perfection
of a true martial artist, I managed to master a few moves from every major
style in Japan: Karate, Judo, Jujitsu and Aikido.
"I thought I was
satisfied. About that time, I wanted to go home, I missed my parents and my
brothers and sisters. It was when I was eighteen that I decided to head back to
the U. S. I had little money, but I knew the way to make that little sum rise
to the amount I needed and even more. I stepped proudly, cocky really, into a
Karate gym and challenged the instructor to a fight.
"At first, he laughed.
At the time, I still wasn’t that big. The guy was probably thinking, what was a
young gaijin thinking challenging a master with years of experience and
centuries of tradition behind him? But I managed to convince him. The deal was
I lose he gets what little cash I had and the fisherman’s hut. If I won, he’d
fork over five thousand in American dollars.
"Much to his anger and
surprise, I bested him and won my trip back home, but he
was determined not to let
me go away so peacefully. I had to stay in Japan for a couple of
days before departing, to
settle down some old matters and to say goodbye to my few
friends. Before I could
leave I was confronted by ten thugs who assaulted me... I tried to
fight, but they were too
much for me to handle. I ended up hospitalized, and penniless...
again. After that I headed
out of country. My destination was China, figured I’d add some
new moves to my obviously
lacking stock. Planned to get better so I could beat the stuffing out of that
teacher for cheating me. I spent two years wandering from China to Korea, from
India to Thailand and Vietnam, always seeking opponents to fight and new
techniques to learn. I, eventually, decided to return in Japan to exact my
revenge. I was a deadly fighting machine, I’ll admit but I lost something in
those years. I think, I lost my spirit. There was nothing I wanted more than to
get all those guys that had ever wronged me.
"While in Peking
though, I got caught up in an explosion. When I woke up I didn’t
recognize my surroundings.
It was like a whole other world. A medieval world where
magic ruled. I mean, there
was monsters, dragons, and the like. At first I didn’t believe it.
I walked around that world,
searching for a means to get home, and making a fearsome
reputation for myself. I
was so driven by hate and determination, I didn’t care what I had
to do to get home. One day,
I heard about this monk and his acolytes, with the power to
turn their emotions into
energy. I traveled to the monastery, and got through all their tests,
and became fully accepted
as a disciple. I underwent the ritual, and immediately began
practicing, but after some
months I discovered the true nature of those monks. They were servants of an
evil god whose main goal was that of spreading hate and fear. I admit I wasn't
a "Good Guy" at the time, but I had my honor code. I got out of there
fast. From there I became counselor to a group of people living in a forest. I
began thinking I'd had enough fighting in my life, and was prepared to settle
down permanently when the king’s daughter fell for me. Unfortunately I didn’t
return her affections. She on the other hand, didn’t like rejection. In the
space of a week, I found myself betrothed to her, her father determined I would
do right by her.
"So, I got out of
there even faster. It was when I headed out that I ran into an old man who was
in a bit of trouble. The man as it turned out was a powerful magician, the one
I told you about earlier. He was looking for someone ‘worthy’ enough to help
him retrieve a certain magical item of great power. I completed the mission for
him, and he allowed me to enter a magical mirror which was capable of crossing
between dimensions and worlds. He did warn me that it wasn’t one hundred
percent reliable, but by then I really wanted to get out of there. I didn’t
care.
"Well as it turns out,
the mirror didn’t get me home, It got me here. And here, I’ve
been ever since. You could
say I’ve been trying to come to terms with my life. Trying to
control my body and my mind
through meditation and communion with Mother Earth."
Storm's fingers lightly
touched his cheek as she smiled sweetly. "Do you miss, your
home, your family very
much?"
Trying to smile, Sid nodded
enjoying the feel of Ororo’s hand on his skin. "Yes,
but I abandoned them,
Angel. I can’t imagine that they care too much for me after a
decade. I wanted to find
peace here, to forget, to maybe start over."
"I understand, your
need for peace, Sid. I lost my parents when I was five. I can’t
help wonder what my life
would be like, If I hadn’t lost them when I did."
Sid waited before speaking
again, wanting to enjoy the silence with Ororo, share
the moment of mutual pain
and regret. "Any more questions?"
"Just one, the same
that I was asking you before those men interrupted yester-eve.
Why is it that we cannot be
traced psionically down here?"
"When I arrived here,
this land was a sacred burial place of the natives. It took a
considerable amount of time
to win their trust, but at last they left me in peace to build my
own home. Their shaman also
presented me with a magical staff. He told me to bury it in
the ground along with some
gifts, to honor the spirits of their ancestors. I did what he
said. A man came to me one
night. He told me as long as I protected their holy ground,
they would help me find
peace. I suppose that includes peace of mind."
"The X-men will come
for me, Sid. The only reason they have not is because, they
do not want to blow my
cover."
Sid rose and closed the
shutters. "Right," he replied pacing towards the door, "but
better they get here fast.
I didn't kill or cripple anyone of those guys, but I'm damn sure
that they won't be as kind
to me when they come back with reinforcements!"
Ororo shrugged. "Maybe
they have had enough. What makes you so sure they will
attack us again?"
Sid grinned. "I've
fought a lot, Hon. And trust me, I know that if someone defeats
you when you expected
victory instead, you ALWAYS come back for revenge... no
matter how powerful your
opponent is. Now take a nap. I'll wake you up in an hour or
two to check those ribs and
help you move around. When those creeps come back we’re
gonna need to move fast. I
don’t plan to leave you behind."
authored by David altered
by Valegra