RogueStar (brucepat@iafrica.com)

The dark-haired woman gave her a look of extreme dislike, "P. A. I. N."

"That spells . . . oh."

"What's your name, girl?"

"I'm Pryde."

"Welcome to the team. I'm in charge of new recruits - getting them whipped
into shape, making sure they aren't traitors."

"What can you tell me about the rebellion?"

"Why? So you can go blabbing to your flat-scan witch boss?"

"No . . . because I like to know something about the organisation I'm fighting
for."

"The rebellion was started by Remy leBeau down in New Orleans with the
help of Callisto and the other Morlocks. They, unfortunately, died in the first
raid on a munitions factory. Caught by a group of Betas with a hard-on against
mutants."

"Betas?"

"You'll know them when you see them. They're robots - the new breed of
sentinels."

"Carry on. How did you become involved in this band of merry mutants?"

"I used to work for Erik Lehnsherr in his rebellion, but after McTaggert caught
him and turned him, Remy seemed the best option. I was right. He's a brilliant
leader - not afraid to take chances or to hurt people."

"Yeah. I guessed that too."

"I don't agree with his strategy. You need to attack the head so that the body
is weakened. He feels that you should attack the body to decapitate the
organisation."

"I see . . . . He explained his strategy to me."

"Too quickly, if you are a traitor."

"Why is everyone so suspicious? You'd think that you'd want people to join
your rebellion."

"If you'd been through what we've been through - you'd understand why."

"That bad?"

"Yes." Unuscione rounded a corner, "Let me introduce you to your
team-mates."

They entered a subterranean chamber set out military-style with bunks and
bed-rolls. Several heads turned suspiciously to regard the new recruit.

"Bobby Drake. Iceman." she pointed a finger at a young man with pale hair,
"Name explains his power as well as the fact that his brain seems to be
permanently on ice."

"Hiya." He greeted with a smile.

"Jubilation Lee - youngest member of the rebellion. Her parents died in the
cullings and Remy took her in. Powers: Pyrotechnics."

The pretty, asian teenager waved a hand at Kitty, "Fireworks for anyone who
speaks English."

Unuscione moved on to a woman with a long, black braid curling down her
back.

"Lila Cheney."

"Who seems to have no other power aside from sticking out her chest,"
Jubilation quipped.

"Her powers are as yet undiscovered," her guide amended.

"You'll be my bunkmate," Lila added with a grin, "Finally, I can move up to
the top."

"Mystique - the resident shape-shifter and former agent of McTaggert's. She
provides us with inside information about the witch's doings."

Mystique shifted shape to mirror Kitty's own face. Her voice when she spoke
was an exact duplicate of the younger woman's.

"Welcome."

"She's always in demand at the rebellion pantomime every Christmas," Iceman
joked.

"There are others which you will meet in due course," Unuscione added, "But
we feel it is better that you become acquainted with only a few members at a
time."

"In case I turn traitor," Pryde added wryly, "Don't worry. I won't."

"The leader is taking a risk with you. It is foolish of him."

"Lighten up, Unuscione. Are you worried that someone will take your position
as general martinet," Mystique said, "And sycophant to the leader?"

"Why, you . . . ."

"Back off," the older woman's face contorted to become that of an
abomination with fur and fangs, "My bite is always worse than my bark."

Unuscione slunk away, muttering to herself.

"Ignore her - she's always like that when the coffee runs out."

"Coffee? I thought that was banned for mutants," Kitty asked, "Haven't had
some since . . . since . . . I can't remember."

"Does the word 'rebellion' mean anything to you? We're meant to do illegal
things," Jubilation explained.

"Like cheat at cards," Iceman added, "Or wear pink with red."

Kitty lay back on the thin mattress on her bunk.

"Coffee . . . . Unbelievable. I think I might like it here."
 

Sabrina bent down and picked up the card. Ace of Spades. It was uncovered
by the usual layer of dust and cobwebs that carpeted the floor of this rather
dingy establishment. That meant it had been newly dropped at the table where
the contact sat. Which meant that it was probably some kind of rebel
identification sign. The cadet pulled out a small, fingerprint scanner from the
pocket of the jacket which she wore over her tight, black bodysuit and ran it
over the card. Left hand prints, no right, and a perfect match to her targets.
The rebels were getting careless. She slipped it into the breast pocket of the
same jacket, sat at an adjacent table and waited.
 

The contact stirred his drink with his straw, making sure that it was properly
mixed. Guido's establishment was known for its safety but not its cocktails. It
had been a slow night, punctuated only by a few moments when he had gotten
the distinct impression that he was being watched.

Something was flicked on to the table - the contact card - and a young
woman sat down opposite him. Her hair was cut, military-style, close to her
head with an unusual white streak down the middle. Her green eyes smiled at
him but her lips were compressed solemnly.

"You th' contact?"

"Ja."

"Ah've come ta join your rebellion. Ta get revenge on th' McTaggert-Witch."

"Why?"

"She killed mah family. Ah escaped by climbin' out th' window an' hidin' in a
condemned building until the sounds o' screamin' died out," tears rose in the
beautiful green eyes, "D*** her."

"Come with me," The contact took her arm and led her out the door into the
alleyway.

A few minutes later, they were gone.
 
 

To be continued . . .