Shifting Sands -- The Lone Wolf And
The Goddess
Part
Eight
story by D. Briganti
written by Valegra
Scott Summers was not a
telepath, but as his wife came stomping in his direction, he knew exactly what
she was going to say before she said it. It would probably be something along
the lines of: Scott, this is ridiculous...
"Scott, I can’t take
it anymore. This is ridiculous," Jean Gray Summers shouted falling into a
lounge chair next to the one her husband occupied. "Storm’s been gone for
nearly two weeks and we haven’t heard a word from Remy. This entire situation
could be really serious and no one is doing anything about it," she
complained both vocally and telepathically.
Sighing, Scott rose to his
feet and took his wife’s clammy hand. "Jean..."
This time Jean was not
going to be placated. Snatching her hand back she glared at the man she’d loved
since meeting so many years ago. Waving a patronizing finger in Scott’s face,
she shook her head. "No, Scott, not this time. You are not going to tell me
how dangerous it would be to send more X-men down there. You are not going to
tell me that Remy is capable and if anyone can find out what’s happened to ‘Ro
he can. You are not going to tell me that I worry too much!" Pausing to
catch her breath, Jean dropped her finger and simply glared at the field leader
of the X-men. "What you are going to tell me, husband, is that I’m right
and you were planning all along to send a team out there to investigate. In
fact, at this very moment the Blackbird is being prepared for launch."
That said, Jean stepped back and put her hands on her hips.
In the room was silence.
Scott stared at his anxious wife and didn’t have a clue as to what he was going
to say. Two weeks was a long time to be out there. Remy had left several days
ago and had yet to check in. Was it possible that there was something down
there that the X-men couldn’t handle? Did they both fall victim to whatever was
out there?
"Jeannie’s right,
Cyke," a gruff voice said from the doorway to the study. Scott turned to
see Logan lounging along the door frame, an unlit cigar sitting snugly between
his lips. Scott wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t heard the other man’s approach.
"‘Ro, ain’t one to procrastinate. In and out is more her style. The Cajun,
though ain’t no fool. If there was a problem he would have called. So that
leaves us with nothin’, bub. We need to send someone out there and find out
what’s happened ourselves."
Scott frowned. He did have
a point. They needed something.
"Thank you,
Logan," Jean stated smugly. Finally someone else on her side.
"We cannot risk the
lives of the others by sending more X-men down in that valley. The
sentinels..." Scott began to protest, ever thinking of the bottom line.
"The sentinels, Scott,
are probably what’s holding them up. They are machines designed to track and
terminate mutants. If there are sentinels down there, there may be a few
active, which means no matter how hard Storm hides her trail, her being that
close, she’s sure to get tracked. Remy as well," Jean stated. The logic in
her argument brought a soberness to her voice that had thus far been lacking.
Her best friend if caught out there by the sentinels could quite possibly be
dead. "Scott, we have to go down there," she finished in a near
whisper, her glare turning into a look of despair.
Not knowing what to do,
Scott reached for the one mind that would hold the answer.
"Professor?" He called out. Somehow he knew that Charles Xavier was
listening in on this conversation, if not he would sense Jean’s depression, Logan’s
rebellion, and his own uncertainty.
Scott, if those sentinel
are active, we will need that film more than ever. We will have to assume that
both Ororo and Remy are somewhere safe. Send a team out there. Xavier said for
his mind only, though Jean caught part of the message through her telepathic
link with her husband.
Nodding, Scott headed to
the study door. Logan discretely stepping out of the way. When he reached the
door, he turned to face both his wife and Logan. "Let’s go people. The
professor needs that film and we have a couple of X-men to recover."
Bishop's hands clenched on
the Blackbird's controls not an hour later. On a small screen in front and to
the left of him on the control panel, an image of Psylocke appeared.
Her violet tented hair was
pressed down by a large headset. "You' re prepared for take off, Blackbird
One," she stated through the intercom speaker.
"I hear you,
Psylocke," the big man from the future replied. Snapping his safety belt
into place with a solid click, he began pressing buttons. Within moments the
large black aircraft was speeding down the tarmac eventually to become
airborne. "Hourly reports will be issued as to the status of our
mission."
"Of course, Bishop.
Take care all of you. We don't know what's really down there.
Institute out," with
that the screen went blank.
Before the speeding craft
the hangar doors slowly opened, and the skies over the Xavier Institute for
Higher Learning echoed with the roar of the jet engine. With the power to back
the craft’s speed it disappeared into the sky in seconds leaving a gloom filled
silence behind.
"Well, it seems we've
got a rough job, folks," Wolverine said with a little too much relish
while popping open a can of beer. "Any ideas?"
"I would suggest
investigating Storm's last known position. We can track her movements until
they disappeared off radar with the Blackbird’s scanner," Bishop answered
switching on the auto-pilot. Of all the X-men, he was the one showing the least
concern for the entire endeavor. His manner almost cold. But the other X-men
had gotten to know him since his arrival in their time and they knew that he
hid his emotions and reactions under his extensive military discipline. If he
were really concerned with Storm, for it was questionable if he’d care if Remy
fell off the planet, only a few people would know it.
Beside Bishop, Cyclops
nodded fully agreeing with Bishop’s suggestion.
"I only hope that what
we find there won't be too much for us to handle alone," Jean added
feeling safe to worry once again. This time on everyone’s behalf. "Who can
tell us if the Sentinels that are presumed to patrol this place are of the same
model produced in Trask's factory or more powerful ones?"
Wolverine chuckled wryly.
"In that case, Red, we'll go see how well flowers grow... by lookin' at
the roots!" The metallic sound of his adamantium claws slithering form
their place within his hand filled the air. "Better yet, let’s see how
long the soup stays fresh with a hole in the can."
Sighing, Cyclops turned
from the scanner and glared in Wolverine’s direction.
"That’s enough,
Wolverine. We're on assignment!" With a dark glare aimed at Cyclops,
Wolverine chucked as he resettled his claws. Ignoring the look as he tried to
ignore everything else about the man, Cyclops turned back to the display before
him. "E.T.A.?" he asked of the computer system.
"Expected time of
arrival is approximately 15:30 local time," came a choppy metallic reply.
Phoenix glanced at her wrist watch, where a large 11:32 blinked on the
LCD display. This was going to be a long day. "Hold on, my friend. We're
coming."
* * * * *
Sid felt the vibes even
before the ground around his feet began to shake. Dropping the ax he’d been holding,
he looked to the sky. Frowning, angrily, he headed to the house as best he
could on the shaking ground.
When the house began to
shake, Ororo came awake with a start. Glancing around she saw several of Sid’s
framed posters fall crashing to the floor. Her eyes widened when the dresser
next to the window that Sid had found the time to fix fell forward with a loud
crash. She didn’t panic until she felt bits of timber and dust fall around her
head. All of a sudden she was caught up in a nightmare, one that plagued her
even while she was awake.
A nightmare that robbed her
of her breath and her ability to think logically. A nightmare where all she saw
was darkness. She saw the ceiling falling down upon her. She heard the screams
and yells. She felt herself falling. Until eventually she couldn’t feel
anything. She couldn’t see anything. She was all alone.
Lifting her hands to her
head, ignoring the sharp pain of her shoulder and the stretching of the skin
around her ribs. She bowed her head and screamed, "Goddess no, not
again." Opening her eyes, she tried to think, she tried to see beyond her
childhood nightmare. Back then there was nothing she could do for herself, for
her parents. She couldn’t escape, she’d been trapped. But that was then, she
could save herself now, she just had to think.
Deep breaths, Ororo. Stay
calm, she commanded herself. Get out. Sitting up shakily, Ororo threw her legs
over the side of the bed. Suddenly a shadow fell over the room blocking the
early evening sun.
"Momma, Momma? I cannot
see."
"Stay calm, Ororo.
Come quickly, we must get out. The Goddess will protect us."
Trembling, Ororo blocked
out the sounds of falling dishes from down stairs and the dust clouding the air
around her. When a ceiling timber cracked and began to break, her complexion
turned a sickly pale, but she didn’t panic, much. Breath, Ororo, breath.
"Lie still,
child," she said to herself, hoping the sound of her voice over the
rattling of the walls would calm her. Closing her eyes briefly she called upon
a strong wind. The effort and her lack of strength made the exercise painful.
"Let the winds be your sedan-chair and the call of nature, without, your
guiding hand." Concentrating, heavily, her skin broke out in a film of
sweat. As the winds gathered around her body, Sid broke into the door and
rushed to her side. Ororo could spare him one a quarter of her attention. Her
head was pounding and her unused muscles were screaming in protest.
"Bad news, Angel! We
have to get out of here! There's a bunch of titanium giants heading this way
with every intention of turning this house into a pile of rubble," Sid
said stating the obvious. When he reached a hand out to capture Ororo in his
arms, she shook her head. When her eyes met his they were pupilless, white and
shining with suppressed energy. Her complexion was pale and she was
concentrating so hard her body was tense and held a faint filming of sweat. To
anyone else, she would have looked a freight, to Sid she looked absolutely
beautiful.
"Lead the way, Sid. I
will follow," she stated simply.
"Angel? Your shoulder?
Are you sure?" Sid couldn’t believe how helpless he felt.
When a strong tremor hit he
put a hand on the bed to catch himself. Looking in Ororo’s direction, he saw
panic cross her face.
When next she spoke it was
nearly desperate. "Yes. Now, go! I do not wish the building to collapse
while we are still within it!"
"I won’t be far ahead,
Angel," Sid promised agreeing that they should spend less time talking and
more time running. Turning he led Ororo out of the room and down the stairs
catching himself when he would have fallen over. As they reached the front
door, their ears were assaulted by a deafening boom and following close behind
it was a terrible shock-wave that sent them falling out of the house to land
hard on the ground several feet from the structure.
Sid lifted his head, his
eyes widened. The home that he’d built for himself all those years ago was
nothing more than a wooden pile topped by a thick flame of fire. Standing on
either side of the charred dwelling were five robots, each taller than the one
he’d previously destroyed nearly a fortnight ago. Each with a hand raised and a
gun barrel protruding from their palm trained straight at him. Rising shakily,
Sid looked around and found Ororo lying unconscious not two feet away. The slow
rise and fall of her chest his only clue that she was alive. "Too damn
rough for one in her condition," Sid said looking back at the metallic
monstrosities and stepping between them and the woman he loved.
Glaring defiantly he
waited. None of them fired. A deep male voice resounded from one of the robot's
chest. The voice was metal laced and somewhat choppy, but
interlaced with that was
the impression of polish and cockiness that a machine did not possess. The voice
was definitely human. "Good day, young warrior. I am very pleased to make
your acquaintance," the male voice stated.
Sid thumbed his nosed and
grinned. "Pleasure's all yours, mister. These machines of yours just
destroyed my house. I hope they have insurance." Shifting his stance, Sid
watched all five robots with a weary eye all the time focusing on the one that
held the speaker.
"Humor, I like that.
However, I have little intention of rebuilding that pile of sticks you call a
house. But on the other hand, you give me what I want and I may yet allow you
to live to build another yourself."
"Oh, yeah and what
might that be," Sid asked stalling. Glancing behind him, he saw that Ororo
was coming to. Good, protect them he could, but not if he had to carry Ororo in
his arms. It would be better for both of them, if she were able to move freely.
To find somewhere safe.
The voice thus far had been
carefree almost buddy buddy pleasant, but abruptly that changed. "I want
the mutant, you protect, warrior. Step aside and give her to me," he
commanded loudly.
Sid heard a moan from
behind. All of a sudden he remembered how Ororo was after slowing the soap when
he’d tossed it to her. There was no way she was going to be able to move on her
own. What little strength she’d had was likely tapped out by the trip
downstairs and out of the house. Damn, now what could he do. He wasn’t pissed
off enough to break down all five of the things. It would likely take Ororo’s
death to do that and to hell if that was going to happen. "Yeah sure, I’ll
give her to you. But tell me what you want her for first."
Chucking, "I knew you
were a sensible man. I simply want to send the mutant on a short journey.
Somewhere where her kind is accepted and not prosecuted. If it is her welfare
that concerns you, worry not, she’ll be going to a better place."
Now there was a line that
was used way too much. Glancing angrily at the robot that wore the speaker,
Sid’s eyes glowed with fire. "Go screw yourself, ass hole."
A long, almost polite laugh
filled the air around the battlefield. The sound sent shivers down Sid’s spine.
"It seems that you do not understand very well your position. If I were
you, I would behave in a more respectful manner."
"Yeah well, surprise,
you’re not me. What kind of respect deserves one who tries to kill defenseless
women and hides behind a bunch of metal parts? What's your problem, anyway,
coward? Ain't you brave enough to face me and do the dirty job yourself?!"
When the sentinel possessing the speaker raised his other palm and another gun
barrel appeared, Sid knew this was it. No more chummy chummy chit chat. No more
stalling, no more time. Assuming his ready stance he waited. Maybe if he could
move fast enough and confuse the things they would forget about Ororo, until he
could stop them.
"ENOUGH! You are a
traitor to your humanity and you embarrass yourself by protecting one of them!
Sentinels: dispose of them both!"
The androids moved towards
him with perfect synchronism, and Sid prepared himself to withstand their
attack. They surrounded him, cutting off any means of escape. One of their
shadows blocking the sun light. Sid could feel the air around him thickening.
This was it. Concentrating he tried to pull up the fire within him enough to
blow a hole through one of them, so he could make a dash with Ororo out, but
the fire never came…
Damn he wished he could
talk to that guy some more, he was just beginning to piss him off.
"Sid?" a quiet
voice said from behind. Looking over his shoulder, Sid saw that Ororo had risen
to a sitting position, her eyes following the line of sentinels around them.
One of the robots machine guns came to readiness. As did another.
"Angel?" Sid
responded, ignoring the sound of another gun clicking to readiness.
He looked into the blue of
his beloved’s eyes. Had he really thought he would spend the rest of his life
with her? Had he seriously wondered what it would feel like to spend an
eternity in her arms? Had he honestly considered that after all the misery of
the past he would finally find happiness?
Her next words shook him,
he’d never heard words more beautiful and so sad.
"Do not die for
me."
Any rage he may have had
built up, died with those five simple words. For the first time in a long time,
Sid began to fear. Not used to the emotion, he couldn’t focus it into the power
needed to take down the robots surrounding them.
But the fear was not for
himself. After so many years spent fighting everyone and everything, he did not
care whether he lived from one moment to the next. All those years ago, death
was nothing more than a far gone conclusion, something that was almost looked
forward to. But that was then and this wasn’t about what he thought of himself.
His fear was for Ororo. The image of her laying dead at his feet in the mud
covered by her own blood and maybe his with the last spark of life within her
gone paralyzed him like no snake venom could do. But he wasn’t going to see
that image. If they got to Ororo, they would have to go through him first.
Moving back a step, he knelt by Ororo’s side and took her hand within his.
Ignoring Ororo’s look, a look filled with a plea for him to leave her to her
fate, he faced the robots defiantly. How ironic, to die like a dog at the hands
of these junk piles just when you've found your true love!
authored by David altered by Valegra