X-men 2099UG #5

Alexander Moss was finding that running from the Hellfire Club was no easy task.

Although technically, the running was in fact the easiest part. The world of 2100 was nothing if not expedient. Speed limits that only existed in the big cities. Express maglev trains that shot along at speeds creeping up to the sound barrier. Airfoils that hopped along the edges of the atmosphere, skimming on the edge of space, so as to move at such fantastic speeds that the fusilage would simply melt if such velocity was attempted in the Earth's atmosphere. And then there was that article he'd read about Caraway Motors and their attempts to create the world's first reliable teleportation system. Yes indeed, these days there wasn't any reason you couldn't be on the other side of the world by lunch, then back home by dinner. Getting to where you were going to was never a problem for Alex Moss.

Finding a place to live was. Alex had never thought to consider that apartment space would be at a premium when he ran off to Halo City. Oh sure, there was space if you looked hard enough, but most of those neighborhoods really didn't appeal to him. There had been one complex that was very convenient, very spacious, just all-around nice. Then he found out that the owner only let Thorites rent, and he wasn't about to start praying to a story from the Heroic Age just to find a nice place to sleep. It bugged him, surely, but that kind of discrimination worked both ways. The owner could let in whomever he wanted, he owned the building after all, but the complex wasn't even half full. He couldn't be making enough to keep the building, Alex thought, sooner or later he'd have to let others into his little religious preserve.

And so here he was now, sitting on the mattress of his bed in the Starbrand Hotel (Situated at the corner of Willis St. and Xavier Boulevard, shuttle service to Halo Airport, easy access to shopping centers and the Q, call (448) 235-551-0091 for reservations.), annoyed out of his mind that such a trivial matter would be consuming days of his time.

Letting out a tired sigh, Alex inched back onto the mattress and sat with his legs crossed Indian-style. Placing his outstretched palms on his knees, he closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. In times like this, Alex thought, the only thing to do was meditate. For Alex, his meditation always brought forth more than simple relaxation. When he closed his eyes, the future opened up before him. Literally.

It had all started when he was thirteen. He had begun to have extremely vivid dreams, they seemed to make sense, and the oddest thing was that he remembered almost every detail of them after he woke up. They struck about once a week at first. He would have a dream about him and his mother sitting down for breakfast, discussing his falling grades in school. Then the next morning his dream would play out almost exactly as he had seen it. The only difference being that he didn't eat his breakfast, being too weirded out by the whole coincidence of it.

It went on like that, he would dream about a test he hadn't yet taken, or about a field trip that he knew his class was going to take. One time he dreamed that he had sprained his leg while in gym, and ended up skipping the class when the event came around. Of course, the trouble that put him into made him wish that he HAD sprained his leg.

He didn't dare tell anyone about his premonitions unless it was something almost deadly serious. And even then, he did his best to prevent the event from coming about without giving up his secret.

As the years passed, Alex depended more and more on the premonitions. By the time he was fourteen, they were coming every time he slept. By the time he was fifteen, he had found that he enjoyed his odd ability too much to do anything about it. He could see the future, and if he tried hard enough, he could direct the premonition towards an event he wanted to know the outcome about. All he had to do was think really hard.

He was eighteen when he found out he was a mutant. He was getting a routine physical, his medical file needed to be updated for colleges and employers, when the doctor came into the room, locking the door. He had found something while scanning Alex's blood sample for diseases. Alex feared the worst and asked the doctor what was wrong.

"Apparently," the doctor said, pulling up a screen on his datapad. It was a readout of a section of his DNA. "You're a mutant."

Alex couldn't read the expression on the doctor's face. On the datapad was the spiraling staircase of his DNA, with one step glowing brightly, the X-factor, Alex knew. He had read all about it in science class.

A small smile appeared on Alex's face. "I know," he said.

"Your abilities have manifested themselves, then?", the doctor said, his face expressing a wary curiosity.

"Yeah...yeah, I didn't know it was a mutant ability though. I just thought I was lucky, like it was magic or something, you know?"

The doctor glanced at the datapad quickly, then looked Alex in the eye. "You're an alpha-class, you know."

"You're kidding."

"No Alex, now...," the doctor set the datapad down on his knee. "You are not obliged to give up this information. But having an alpha-level mutant in my offices has me a little worried. Do you know what your ability is?"

"Oh...oh yeah, doctor. I can understand why you're concerned, but don't worry. I don't shoot eye beams or anything. I just see the future when I go to sleep."

The doctor tried not to be surprised, but didn't succeed. "Are you sure that is all? Some mutant powers continously evolve well after the onset of puberty and maturation."

"Pretty sure, I've never had a premonition while awake. And I can't change the event when I'm looking at it when I'm asleep, so it's not like my mind is actually sending me to the event. At least that's I think, I'm really not sure. It feels that way though."

Oddly enough, Alex hadn't seen any of this coming.

Afterwards the doctor had explained to him that he was required to document the presence of the X-factor in Alex for his medical records. There was no way around it, but the doctor did explain that if Alex would come back to have some tests run on his abilities, then things would go a little easier for him once he graduated high school. Some colleges and businesses didn't employ mutants. And those that did weren't all too friendly. But if Alex had his power-level and ability documented, then the doctor could write up a medical statement saying that Alex's powers did not threaten the environment or the people around him in any way. Such paperwork, the doctor told Alex, would be an immense help to Alex, and tip the scales in his favor.

Alex agreed to the tests, finding out that his premonitions only came when the alpha-waves in his brain were at a certain wavelength. A wavelength that came about naturally when he was in REM sleep, although they could also be produced when awake, but only with extreme concentration.

In a way, finding out about his mutant powers shaped the way he lived his life. Instead of going onto a business internship or private institution, he became an independent contractor and spent his time figuring out how to make the premonitions come when he was awake. Eventually, he joined a dojo, learning how to meditate and the arts of self-defense.

The meditation was something he had to learn, Alex thought, to be able to have the premonitions while awake. But the self-defense was an excellent perk. He had always wanted to be able to kick some ass.

Alex's breathing became shallow and small and his heartbeat slowed. He wasn't moving, not even a twitch. Right now he was a million miles away, his eyes closed and his mind somewhere else completely.

The visions always started with the barest of details. A few outlines of murky shapes in the darkness beyond, perhaps some of them moving. As Alex focused more and more upon them, they would become more defined. Eventually, things would get brighter and he would begin to detect faint colors and noises. Things developed faster and faster as the vision came into view. What he was seeing would come more and more into focus until suddenly, like a veil being lifted, the scene would be before him fully.

Alex much preferred meditating to make the visions come rather than napping. It was quicker, easier, and he had more control over them. Alex had never found a way to interact with the visions as he was having them and had since given it up for impossible. What he could do was at least direct them to certain events if he had a specific question about the future. He was doing it now, looking to see if he would ever find a place to live in this crazy city.

The vision formed and expanded before him. A high-rise apartment building appeared, it looked like an abandoned commerce tower with its glass façade and slanted roof. The whole place very simple, very retro-ish style. Alex could spot a bank situated in the lobby, perhaps being the only business still residing there. Next to the fifteen-floor building was a solid wall running past it, towering slightly above the building. The housing complex was apparently near the north entrance to the city.

The vision wrenched itself upward, stopping at a random window on the seventh floor. The perspective drew inward through the window to show himself opening the door to the apartment and carrying a satchel in. Well, that answered his question, he supposed.

A sudden commotion brought Alex's attention away from the apartment. His vision swung back downward towards the street. It quickly centered on two people, one of them an infirmed old woman, the other...Alex recognized her from a news report he had seen...she was one of the city's X-men. He didn't remember her name, but she had a badge with an X on it, no hair, and an odd costume consisting of red pants and a faux tasselled uniform. Bad taste must be her mutant power, he thought.

The X-man was protecting the old woman from something, tapping her badge quickly, he saw. The old woman looked confused and lost. Alex couldn't even begin to guess what the situation was with her. There was a small crowd in front of them, angry from the looks of it. Alex saw one of the men in the back of the crowd pick up a loose piece of synthcrete and heft it in his hand. With no warning, his arm shot forward and he let loose...

The vision shifted towards something different. He was looking at the X-men...at least some of them were X-men...there were others he didn't recognize. They were being confronted by a massive crowd, a largely built bald man was speaking to them. The viewpoint did a turnaround and Alex caught a glimpse of the crowd from the X-men's vantage point. Suddenly, a small swath was cut through the crowd towards the X-men, someone was pushing their way through frantically. Another protestor probably, he thought, until the vision closed in on the person. It was him.

Alex was puzzled. He had nothing against the X-men, sure, but he didn't see why he would be rushing to meet them. Something about them just put him off, to him they were just another group of mutants espousing brotherhood, and he had had more than enough of that with the Hellfire Club. Once again, the vision shifted.

He was back in the Hellfire's Alaskan Complex now and instantly fear set in. If his future involved returning to this place then something bad definitely had to be in store for him. He would have to search around to this event to see how he could avoid it.

There were two men in the vision. Alex recognized one of them instantly, Martin Rentaro, White King and father to that gravity-wielding lapdog Gavin. Rentaro was a hard man who had a point to everything he did. His devotion to his goals was one of his deadliest traits, Alex knew. He was a large guy, devoid of hair, and as he aged it seemed he only got stronger, tougher, and more tenacious.

The other person he didn't recognize at all. Perhaps it was his replacement. Alex could only hope. The man was noticeably smaller than Rentaro, but seemed dangerous in his own way. Both of them were talking, Rentaro getting sterner and sterner. Apparently the unknown man was being accused of plotting against Rentaro with something, or someone, called Morphine. Was that right? He caught the man's name as Rentaro spoke: Christopher.

Christopher was having little luck in denying or defending himself it seemed. Alex knew it was a useless task, once Rentaro was convinced of something he usually stayed convinced of it. The conversation was getting more heated when the vision abruptly shifted to Christopher's viewpoint of the situation. Before Alex could wonder why the vision shifted that way, Rentaro pulled out a small pistol and leveled it at Christopher's face. It was all a blur, Rentaro went so fast. Alex heard the crackle of the gun firing, hitting Christopher point blank. The vision blinked out completely.

There was nothing after that.

*     *     *

"I really shouldn't be here," Christopher thought as he observed the proceedings silently from the corner of the room. In front of him, a gathering of nine people conversed heatedly, some not-so-heatedly. His real name was Henri Huang, a mutant speedster and long-standing X-man. In his days, he had broken the unbreakable Alchemax contract, faced down men with the power of gods in a floating city, hacked the entire city of Las Vegas into his hands, successfully raided a major chapter house of the centuries old Theater of Pain, and taken on a massive number of miscellaneous bruisers and toughs. He had something of a deadly reputation.

And yet, the only thing he could think of at the moment was how far away from the Hellfire Club he wanted to be.

The meeting room was small and sparsely furnished. It was one of the few rooms in the whole complex that favored usefulness over showmanship. The people who made up the Hellfire's Club Inner Circle fancied themselves some of the, if not the most, important people in the world. Such an attitude evoked a certain style of decorating splendor; an "important people must be surrounded by important things" sensibility that pervaded the Alaskan Complex they called home. The room he was in now didn't really convey that, which just made him more uncomfortable. He did not like to think of the Inner Circle as they deadly people they were, yet the surroundings kept reminding him of that.

He had Morphine Somers to thank for all of this. Morphine, garbed in form-fitting black with a white vest, who was now seemingly schmoozing with Nathaniel Dumakas, the White Bishop. Dumakas was almost as oddly thin as Morphine, the difference being he was black. The Dumakas family, Henri had found out, was one of the largest independent contractors of Wakandan vibranium. It was all perfectly legal and sanctioned by the Wakandan government, the catch being that Dumakas had a habit of sabotaging his competitors and cornering the market. The way Henri understood it, it was a game for Dumakas. He toyed with his competitor's like a cat tortures a dying mouse.

The Black Queen, Aloria Craven, was with them. She wasn't as tall as Morphine or Nathaniel, but she was far more striking than both of them put together. There was a personal connection between her and Shaw. They were childhood friends, he'd heard, but didn't know anything beyond that. She dressed simply, red vinyl pants over shin-high boots. A red short-sleeved jacket was fit over a skin-tight, blue long-sleeved shirt with blue gloves attached. The outfit fit her lean body well, with the colors accenting her long black hair, streaked with artificial white, which came down in waves. Henri thought she looked almost innocent in this grouping of jackals. Almost innocent.

In the corner of the room, Gavin Rentaro brooded. From what Henri understood, Gavin was occasionally like this, though never as much as he had been in the last few days since Morphine's admittance into the Inner Circle. He was his father's totying lapdog, although Henri couldn't understand why. Gavin had a mastery over the forces of gravity, what mutant power could his father possibly possess that could dwarf that?

Martin Rentaro himself was on the other side of the table as Morphine and the rest. The White King, rightly enough, was talking quietly with Amanda Mallie, the White Queen. Sir Domingo de Solas, the White Bishop, was listening in. Rentaro had an urgent look about his face, but then again, he always did.

Henri had found that, with the exception of Black Bishop Jonathan Richards, the Black lineage of the Inner Circle was more active. Richards himself was already seated at the table, a slight, almost mad, smile on his face as he twiddled his thumbs. Henri couldn't help but think of Reed Richards himself when he looked at Jonathan. He even had the same haircut, although Jonathan was blond.

As little as he knew about them, Henri felt that it was already enough. He was there under the guise of Christopher, Morphine's personal assistant. In truth he was there as Henri, an X-mole in the Hellfire Club, who's job it was to find out all he could about the Club and its Inner Circle. Progress had been slow, he didn't even know the mutant abilities of most of them. Sure, Aloria was a telekinetic and Shaw could turn impact into strength, meaning no matter how hard you hit him, he just got stronger...and Gavin was a gravity manipulator. But the rest, besides Morphine, were a mystery in that department.

Things would probably go faster now, however, since Morphine had gained access to the Inner Circle. In turn, that also meant he had less time with which to get the info and run back to Halo. The Hellfire Club had its sights on the city, and Henri knew the X-men would need every edge they had against this bunch.

A door in the far corner room swished open and a stocky man entered. His suit was of a simple cut, but he carried himself with an important air. This was Alexander Shaw, the Black King and impromptu leader of the Hellfire Club. His arrival signaled the beginning of the meeting. Everyone took their seat, the White rank seated across from the Black. Henri was next to Morphine on the Black side, down at the end, farthest away from Shaw. Gavin Rentaro was across from him, still scowling yet attentive all the same. Shaw himself sat at the head.

"My comrades, it would seem that Halo City is tougher than any of us gave it credit," Shaw began, his face a picture of calm. He glanced over to Morphine, raising an eyebrow. "With perhaps the exception of our new Black Rook."

"So the bruisers failed, did they?", Morphine said nonchalantly. "I thought they might. The X-men seem to have an uncanny amount of luck."

"Yes, they failed. During my visit there I managed to find out what happened. Both of them are currently incarcerated."

"The She-Hulk and Domingo's agent did not even make a dent in their defenses?", Amanda asked.

"One of them lost a hand while fighting the latter...," Shaw answered.

"Really? Which one?", Morphine interrupted.

"The tall girl, white as a ghost..."

"La Lunatica," Henri found himself stating.

"Really? Interesting," Morphine said.

"No doubt she's already got it back," Aloria teased, smiling.

"In any case," Shaw continued. "It was an excellent test. What we threw against the X-men was brute force only. I have reason to believe that anything stronger would overcome them."

"So we're going to assault them directly?", Martin Rentaro asked. Henri shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but managed to keep his worry from his face.

"Not yet. There are other avenues I would like to explore first," Shaw said.

"This avenue wouldn't happen to be called 'Synge' now, would it?", Aloria asked. Henri wondered if her tone was jealous, or just mocking.

Shaw ignored Aloria's insinuating tone. "If there's a quieter way to take the city then we will make use of it. For right now, however, we will stay here and see how things develop with Synge and the makeshift City Council she's serving."

"What about the X-men?", Gavin spoke up, surprising the table. His father looked at him grimly.

"Shaw has already made his decision on that subject," Martin Rentaro said in a scolding tone.

"I don't understand his decision though," Gavin continued. "Why not keep hammering at them with our power?"

Shaw's tone was patient, yet edged with annoyance. "Keep in mind, Gavin, that although we do not have it yet, Halo City is still essentially ours. And I would choose not to rebuild a city that I can take as a whole."

"I can defeat them and keep the city intact..."

"You had your chance***," Martin Rentaro spoke harshly, the volume of his voice growing with each word. "And it is not your place to question the Black King when you do not even sit on the Inner Circle!"

*** X-men 2099UG: Gravity

"I suggest you listen to your father and heed his words, boy," Amanda said. "There is a reason he is the White King."

"There will be no outward assaults on the city's protectorate for the time being, do you understand?", Shaw said to Gavin.

"Yes," Gavin responded sullenly.

"Good. Now," Shaw said, his gaze at the end of the table where Henri and Gavin sat. "We have matters to discuss now that are Inner Circle business only."

Silently, Henri got up and nodded to Shaw, heading for the door. Gavin pushed his chair out angrily and stalked past Henri.

Outside, Henri quickened his pace to catch up with Gavin. "You don't seem happy here," he said.

Gavin turned around and stopped suddenly, surprised by Henri's statement. "Of course I'm not happy," he said sharply. "I lost the seat on the Inner Circle, a seat I've been working for since the Club started, to YOUR boss."

Henri remained calm. "It must have hurt to be rejected in such a way."

"Leave me alone."

"You have to admit that your angry outbursts aren't impressing anybody."

"Get out of my face," Gavin said, turning to walk away again.

Henri grabbed his shoulder before he could leave. "What are you here for, then, if what you want is already taken?"

Gavin threw Henri's hand off of him. "None of your business, lapdog. You're supposed to follow Somers around, not me."

"Look, kid, this angry crap doesn't impress anybody. It's obvious you're not needed or wanted here, but I might be able to help you find a place where you are."

Gavin gave him an incredulous look. "What the shock are you talking about? What do you care?" Suddenly, a powerful unseen force pushed Henri backwards onto the floor. "Don't bother me again." Gavin turned around and walked quickly out of sight, his footsteps stomping on the floor.

Henri got up and gazed at Gavin as he stalked off. "I care because I need you, kid," he thought to himself. "You're a loaded weapon, and the last time you were pointed at us, you put an X-man into a coma. I'm going to use you kid, just like your father. But this time, you're going to be pointed in the right direction."

*     *     *

The Negative Zone was two things: 1.) A harsh spacial causeway between realities which housed unspeakable dangers. 2.) And a milk/alcohol bar in Halo City. It seemed there was no happy middle with anything bearing the "Negative Zone" moniker. Currently, the latter was half-full of people with their minds figuratively in the former.

It was a loud Saturday night down at the bar, as per usual. The rhythm of the music thrummed in the bones of everyone there. A small portion of the customers wore metallic patches on their foreheads, marking out the minors and the milkers. Before the old American government had collapsed decades ago, a liquor business came up with the idea of the patch. If kids were that desperate to get drunk, they could completely circumvent the FDA by making it healthy.

"How's life as a data entry clerk?", Sham asked Quiver with a lazy smile. They sat in a small, well-lit booth along the wall of the club away from the bar. The dance floor stretched out behind the bar, full to capacity with mutants, degens, humans, and whathaveyou dancing feverishly together. It made Sham smile (although at her present level of intoxication, a lot of things made her smile), who needed prejudice when you had the bass and the rhythm to move to?

The game tables and machines were up on the second floor. Sham had had to pry Quiver away from the VR machines just to get him to sit down and have a drink with her. "Why you need a headset to make you see things when you got ME?", she had said, coming up behind him and yanking him around.

So there they were, both sitting down on the first floor, Quiver slowly nursing a drink ("My treat!", she had said.) and Sham grinning like a dope half the time, a metal plate affixed to her smooth forehead.

"As well as it can, being, you know, a data entry job. It doesn't require too much thought," Quiver responded.

"Thass right, bud, thass right. Someone with your kinda brain," Sham slurred slightly, putting her hand to Quiver's forehead and smiling lazily at him. "Your kinda brain...damn big brain...you could do more if you would just try."

"Sham...," Quiver said, gently taking her hand away from his head. "How many glasses of milk did you have before you came and got me?"

"Countin' this one?", she said, looking down into her almost empty glass. Quickly, she downed the last of the milk. "I dunno...I went dancin' though...before...it was a lotta fun...you should try it, Quiv. Shake that red red bod of yours."

"Dancing really isn't my thing."

"Ahhhhh know. Ah know. You're not a social critter...should be thankful I got you to go that Jerry show last year..."

"Where the band played one number before getting obliterated?", Quiver said, smiling at Sham.

"That wasn't my fault! Not...my fault," Sham yelled incredulously to Quiver, he laughed.

"Time for that patch to come off, I think," Quiver said, reaching for it.

Sham slapped his hand way "No wayyyy! Not before you drink a little, too. Try some milk, Quiv, you don't have to have it cold. I'll order a warm glass spiked with some cinnamon. That's goooood stuff. You like that, I think, do you?"

"Yeah, but I don't know..."

"Come ON! You need to relax with a capital RRRRRR, matey!", Sham said giggling.

Quiver leaned back sighing. "I suppose."

Three glasses later...

"Come on show me now," Quiver slurred, a metal patch affixed to his forehead now.

"No no no I shouldn't, I'm too tipsy...," Sham responded, shaking her head back and forth.

"You're a LOT of things, Shammy," Quiver said, both of them bursting into sudden, drunken laughter.

"I don't get it," Sham said.

Quiver giggled. "Just show me those new powers o' yours. I'll show ya mine if you show me yours."

"You don't have none!"

"Neither do you, I'm beginning to...beginning to think," Quiver burped. "Oh, 'scuse me. You keep sayin' that you got new powers but you jus' allll talk, Sham."

"Do too have better powers! I can...," Sham hiccuped. "...can create sound too."

"You ALWAYS had them powers."

"Yeah whatever, Quiver. I can use 'em better now. Shoot people with sound waves. Kablam!"

Quiver giggled. "I bet you could play the violin now, too."

"Violin. Pshhhhhhh. Only played that 'cuz my mom made me..."

"You liked it. You sooooo liked it."

"Mebbe I did mebbe I didn't. Didn't get too much chance to play it when we had to start runnnnnin'," Sham said, two of her fingers trotting across the table in an imitation of a run. "But hey!", she continued, her head perking up. "You never told ME what you wanted to do with yourself."

"Oh yeahhhh," Quiver said, leaning back. "Well, that entry job sure is a comfy source of income 'n if I ever get fired...or something...then I can always fall back on my X-pal over here." Quiver waggled a lazy finger at Sham. "To float me some cred, right?"

Sham gave Quiver a raspberry. "You gonna have to join the X-men if you want some of that cred, pardner!"

Quiver's smile dropped. "Don't like the fightin', Sham, you know that. Last time I tried to be a hero I put you in a coma." He looked down at his glass, crestfallen.

"Awwwww, Quiv," she slid over to him and put an arm around his shoulder. "You know I don't blame you for that. It was the right thing to do and it was noble and it was heroic and it...I said it was the right thing to do, right?"

Quiver cracked a smile. "If you hadn't recovered though, I would have been devastated."

"Not recover! NOT recover! Quiv, you silly goof I couldn't do that to you. I got lots more livin' to do. Lots and lots and lots and...," Sham hiccuped, clutching her stomach. "I think I had too much milk," she gulped.

"Yeah, s'time to make like a tree and get outta here," Quiver said, hoisting an arm around Sham to help her up.

"That's 'Make like a tree and leave', butthead."

"Whatever."

Trying not to stagger, Quiver and Sham worked their way towards the bar to turn in their plates. A holographic bartender popped up in front of them as they approached. "What will you be having, sir and madam?", it said.

"We're turning in our plates," Quiver responded.

"Very good, very good. I hope you enjoyed your visit here," the hologram responded cheerfully.

"And then some," Quiver responded. He turned to the weak-faced Sham. "Ready."

"When you are," she nodded. Gingerly, they peeled the plates off of their forehead, both of them giving short gasps of shock as the plates came off.

"SON of a bitch...," Sham said, clutching her head. "That's always the hardest part." Quiver took her plate and dropped them both on the bar.

"Better a five second hangover now then a day long one tomorrow," Quiver said.

"Beats cottonmouth, too. Although my stomach still feels a little sick."

"You had five glasses."

"As I'm sure I'll find out tomorrow when I hole myself up in the bathroom."

"Maybe you should call in sick tomorrow," Quiver suggested.

"Nah. I'll just hope the X-men don't face a threat that requires a lot of running."

Quiver laughed and slung his arm around Sham's waist as he headed for the door. Sham looked up at him with a surprised face. "Quiver Benton Rentaro I don't believe you've done that in a long long time."

Quiver smiled. "Eh, I had a good time."

"That's good," Sham said as they approached the door. "Hey, you never told me what you wanted to do with your life."

"Oh yeah. Well, it's probably just because I'm finally settled down and all, but I kind of want to be a writer."

"That's cool. What kind of writing?"

"Any kind that pops into my head, really."

"You could write about the X-men, you know, chronicle their adventures. An insider's viewpoint. I don't think that's been done before. Maybe if it was we'd have a lot more info about the Age of Heroes."

"Actually...that's a pretty good idea."

"STOP HIM!", the holographic bartender bellowed in loud tones behind them. Sham and Quiver turned around, surprised, just in time to see a stocky man with long hair run by them, a milk plate still attached to his head. He barrelled on past them towards the exit.

Sham heard a low whine as the stun laser barrels by the door powered up. Bars were notoriously paranoid about their security. The beams would stop the man before he even got a hand through the doorway.

That is, if he hadn't vanished right before everyone's eyes.

"Looks like at least a beta-class mutant thief," Sham said in all seriousness.

"Why would he steal a milk plate, though?", Quiver wondered.

"To take home? To sell? I don't know, honestly. I don't think you really need a reason to do something stupid when you're pissed out of your mind," Sham responded. "Come on, Quiv, we're going after him."

Quiver sighed. "Okay."

Sham turned her head back towards the bar. "Not to worry, I'm an X-man, I'll go after him," she yelled to the barkeep as Quiver and her ran out the door into the Negative Zone lobby.

Immediately as they entered the lobby, the room was bathed in red light. "Infra-red?", Quiver asked Sham.

"Yup," she responded as the spectrums shifted quickly.

"Sharp thinking," Quiver squinted to the rapid changes of light. "I don't see him though."

"Might be he can bend all light around him, no matter what the spectrum. Hold on," Sham said quickly. Suddenly, all noise in the lobby ceased.

"What?", Quiver said. Or thought he said. No sound came out of his mouth. Suddenly, a loud shufflng was heard in the corner and the doors suddenly swung open.

"There!", Sham yelled, the sound coming back into the room.

"What was that?", Quiver asked as they ran towards the door.

"That was called 'The Mute Button'," she responded as they both burst out of the doors of the club...and straight into the middle of a fight.

"...touch my sister!", said one of the fighters, swinging hard at the beefy guy in front of him. He connected a blow to the guy's face, hard enough to make his nose bleed.

The beefy guy didn't responded by launching himself on the guy. Together they both wrestled and punched each other as they rolled around on the ground.

"Oh geez. Quiv, do you think you could break this up while I go after that guy?", Sham asked as she ran down the steps towards street level.

"Um, uh, sure Sham. Shouldn't be too hard," Quiver responded, stepping cautiously toward the men. Powering up his vibrational powers a little he stepped into the fray, forcing them apart. "Guys! Break it up!"

Still enraged, the beefy guy hit Quiver in the chin with a powerful blow. Quiver screamed out, Sham stopped suddenly, turning around as she heard his cry. The two men continued to pummel each other as Quiver massaged his jaw. "You shockface!", she screamed, her voice high with emotion, as she pushed the beefy guy back. "Why'd you do that?"

The beefy guy pushed her back. "Don't touch me!", he yelled, following it up with some choice swears. She tripped on her own feet and fell on the ground, grazing the edge of a step. The scraping made her cry out sharply.

"Hey man! You don't do that to a girl!", another man said, running out of the lobby towards the beefy guy. Immediately, the stranger joined the fight. A woman ran after him yelling, "Harold! Don't get involved!" The stranger mixed it up with the beefy guy and the woman came up and slapped him. "Don't you touch him!", she yelled. The other guy tried to pull the stranger away from the beefy guy, but the woman slapped him too.

Sham spotted others rushing out of the lobby, presumably to join in the scuffle. "Oh shock...," Sham muttered, tapping the X-badge pinned to her inside shirt. "Oh shock..."

*     *     *

Luna was punching air when her combadge beeped.

"Again, Luna," Victor Ten Eagles ordered as Luna slammed on a pressure-sensitive force field in front of her. All the X-men were gathered in the Danger Room below the Xavier Shelter where Shakti spent most of her days watching over X-Nation. Victor was running them all through exercises to hone their abilities and stamina. Tim had thought it a good idea. As did Shakti. Luna wanted to go to bed. Sham had got to skip out with Quiver. Krystalin wanted to go with her.

Luna slammed her fist against the force field again. It buckled slightly under the force. Victor was testing her to see if her new hand was, in his words, "up to snuff". Admittedly, she was curious herself. So far, the results were excellent.

"Okay, once more now...," Victor continued.

Luna turned around and dropped her arms. "Maybe later, Ten Eagles," she said. "The badge is beeping."

"PROTECTORATE SIGNAL - SHAM," the badges beeped.

"Location of Protectorate member: Sham," Krystalin asked her badge.

"500 Summers Boulevard. The Negative Zone. Bar and dance club," the badge answered.

"That's pretty close," Shakti said.

"I wonder what kind of trouble Sham managed to fish up?", Luna wondered.

"Let's check it out," Tim said as he turned his head toward Shakti and Ten Eagles. "Shakti, Victor, would you mind joining us? We could use the extra muscle. Both mentally and physically."

"That would be the most prudent choice, I think," Shakti answered, joining Tim.

"I'll go. If only to see if Sham's using her powers the way I taught her," Victor answered.

*     *     *

It took them five minutes to get there, half-running, half-walking. But they froze in their tracks as the plaza opened up before them.

It was chaos. There were close to two hundred people outside. Some of them fighting, some of them arguing, some of them hovering about the fringes of the riot as others pulled bodies out of the melee. Tim saw Sham and Quiver helping people extract themselves from the crowd and ran over to them.

"Sham! What the...?", Tim asked.

"I don't know! It all started with a fistfight outside, then Quiv and I tried to break it up. I got pushed and some bozo came out to 'defend my honor' or some dumb crap like that. And it just escalated. They're fighting for the smallest reasons. 'You touched my girl', 'Don't use your power against a human, it's not fair', 'Don't tell me what to do'...it's just insane."

"I don't see how we can help here," Luna said to Tim. "Shakti can only knock out a few people at a time. And downing a crowd like this would probably drain her dry. Unless you want me to use my vampiric touch as well."

"That's not an option, Luna, you know that," Tim responded.

Luna shrugged, watching the riot. "It may become one."

A bystander came up to them. "The X-men! You guys gotta stop this!"

"We're trying," Tim answered. "This may be even out of our control."

"Try yelling for some order, Fitz, I can amplify your voice over the crowd," Sham suggested.

"Alright...EVERYONE! THIS IS THE PROTECTORATE SPEAKING. CEASE YOUR ACTIONS IMMEDIATELY OR WE WILL HAVE TO TAKE STEPS TO REMEDY THE SITUATION OURSELVES!"

"Not TOO overly threatening," Luna commented.

"Sorry hon, it's the best I could do on the fly."

From across the plaza, another voice boomed. "PEOPLE OF HALO, CEASE AND DESIST IMMEDIATELY OR YOU WILL ALL BE ARRESTED. REPEAT...CEASE AND DESIST...," the voice boomed.

"The Guardians. Glad somebody called them," Tim said.

"I'm not," Krystalin said. "The crowd's probably going to panic, being wedged in between the two law enforcement groups in the city."

Sure enough, the crowd began to scatter. Some of them yelling "X-men!" or "Guardians!", but most of them running off. Suddenly, a crystal wall encircled the plaza, trapping the rioters that hadn't already fled.

"Nice work, Krystalin. I didn't know you could generate something that large, that quickly," Ten Eagles said.

"Size isn't a problem when I create crystalline structures. Getting rid of it is the hard part."

Inside the wall, the rioters calmed down, knowing they were trapped. The Guardians' loudspeaker continued to blare instructions. "PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD AND LAY DOWN ON THE GROUND," it spoke. A small contingent of Guardian officers were walking about, making sure everyone complied with the order.

One of the Guardians was headed straight for the X-men, Tim noticed. It was the Chief, Martin Croix, probably wanting to know what had happened before they got here.

"Chief!", Tim called. "Glad to see..."

"What the hell are you guys doing here?!", the Chief yelled. "That's just what we need, you guys exacerbating the situation."

"We only came to help, Chief. Sham here was already in the vicinity..."

"Listen, you guys are the city's mutant protectorate, which means you tackle the big fights," the Chief scolded.

"This looks pretty big to me," Quiver commented, rubbing his jaw.

"How did this all start, anyway?", the Chief said gruffly.

Sham spoke calmly. "Quiv and I were chasing a thief out of the bar and we stumbled into a fight outside. We tried to break it up but everything just went kinda bonkers after that."

The Chief sighed. "Okay, okay. But technically what were you trying to do is Guardian jurisdiction. You should have contacted us instead of handling it yourself."

Sham's tone became sarcsatic. "Gee sorry there, Chief, for trying to uphold the law."

The Chief frowned. "How drunk were you when you decided to chase this fellow?"

"We weren't drunk!", Quiver exclaimed.

"Look, the point is that this could all have been avoided if you had just called us. You're not showing any great amount of faith in the OFFICIAL law enforcement agency of the city by assuming to take care of everything yourself," the Chief stressed.

"Look, Chief, it was a spur of the moment thing," Tim said. "She couldn't just stand there and do nothing."

"Fitzgerald, I'm not one to give flowery speeches, or spare someone's felings, so I'll just say this: Don't let it happen again. We don't need Halo's second line of defense giving Halo's first line of defense...US," Croix pointed to himself. "...inferiority complexes." The Chief turned and walked away before anyone could respond. The X-men were speechless.

"Well...," Sham finally spoke up. "Thanks for nothing, Chief."

*     *     *

"So WE'RE not supposed to do our job, is that it?", Tim yelled to no one in particular as the X-men, minus Sham and Quiver, walked back to the Xavier Shelter.

"He didn't mean it that way, Tim," Victor said. "Look at it from his point of view. The Guardians were only recently established as Halo City's police force. As he said, 'the first line of defense'."

"There's a certain amount of professional jealousy, I think, in a place like this," Krystalin joined in the conversation. "The police force is mostly human. It is important not to be constantly upstaged by the mutant protectorate, or else no one will ever take the Guardians seriously."

"I understand all that, Krys," Tim responded. "But Sham and Quiver were only trying to help. I mean, they were THERE already, why should they wait for the Guardians to show up?"

"I think most of the Chief's concerns can be attributed to the frayed nerves of everyone in the area," Shakti commented. "I wasn't sensing anything outwardly amiss, but you have to admit that a riot spawning from a simple fistfight, and Chief Croix's attitude to us, was very odd."

"I chalk it up to the alcohol. Halo Twister Mixes and unresolved conflicts are never a good mix," Luna said.

"Perhaps," Shakti responded, not completely convinced.

"So what do you think we should do about this issue of superceding the Guardians?", Tim asked the group.

"Continue being the good people you are," Victor responded. "If you get the call, answer it. If you see something wrong, right it. That's really all you can do."

"And don't forget to call the Guardians first," Krystalin joked. Tim smiled.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the night air.

"Um...," Tim stood there, shocked and surprised.

"That came from behind us," Victor said, his eyes narrowing as if hunting further for the source for the sound. "From that archway overpass we just went under, I think."

"Shakti?", Luna asked. "Do you sense anything?"

"Definitely something from that direction," she answered. "A primal scream of surprise, then silence. I don't sense anyone else."

"Let's not take any chances. Luna, you head north, Victor and Krys, circle around from east to west, Shakti and I will head back to the overpass." Everyone nodded in reply and ran off, searching. Tim and Shakti made their way back towards the shadows of the overpass. They searched the darkness for a few minutes, but saw or heard nothing.

"Anything?", Tim asked Shakti.

"Still noth...," she responded, her words cut off by a loud ripping noise in front of them. Tim and Shakti froze in their tracks, their eyes going wide as the space in front of them literally tore open. A black maw gaped in front of them, and Tim could make out faint images of light inside it. The air around them rushed inward to fill the void. The noise was deafening and the environment around them became a whirlwind of confusion. It was all they could do to keep their minds focused on not being drawn into the vortex.

Abruptly, a limp body fell out of the nothingness towards them. Everything seemed to happen at once. The body fell out, torn and bloodied as the vortex drew back in on itself with a horrible sucking sound. In the maelstrom, Tim heard something clear cutting through. It was Shakti, and she was clutching her head, crying in pain.

The vortex sealed itself up as if it had never been there, the air was unmoving around them. As if her strings had been cut, Shakti went limp and fell ungracefully towards the ground. Tim heard an unsettling thud as her head smacked on the pavement.

"Shakti!", Tim yelled out, running over to her.

No matter how hard he tried, she wouldn't wake up.

NEXT ISSUE: Be here for a tale of non-stop action and first meetings as we take a look into Shakti's past. Guest-starring the Lawless. So you KNOW it's gonna be good.