RogueStar

(brucepat@iafrica.com)

"Hurry up, petite. Open the door."

"The name's Pryde,"she walked slowly over the mechanism and triggered it.

The door slid open. Suddenly, the room was filled with lights as bright
spotlights appeared and alarms gave their usual klaxon wail.

"D@mn," she swore silently, "Where's the security shut-off point?"

"McTaggert's flunkies will be crawling all over here in a matter of seconds,"
The leader shouted above the din, "We gotta strike and get out quick.
Mystique, distract dem outside. Iceman and Jubilee, back her up if she needs
ya. Milan, find out how dis factory works and fry it. Kitty and Unuscione, take
out any Sentinels dat happen t'spring t'life. Lila, come wit' me an' see if we can
turn off dis racket. On my mark - now!"

The rebels scattered to their respective posts. Kitty shivered slightly.

"Scared, kid?" Unuscione asked, patronizingly.

"Cold," she rebuffed, "Let's go."

"I am Alpha-unit #345-P. Resistance is futile, mutants. You have been
identified and will be elimated," the sleek Sentinel said in its electronic
monotone.

"With an offer like that, how could we refuse?" Kitty pulled out her energy
weapon and released a blast, shattering a hole in the Sentinel's chest.

Unuscione took another two out, crushing them in her psionic exoskeleton.

"This is no good - for every one we kill, two more rise to take its place."

"We just have to stall long enough for Milan to shut down this factory."

"Yeah," Kitty said, "How long with that take?"

"I don't know."

The buzz of helicopters drowned out the rest of their conversation as they
landed on the concrete outside the base. Troops streamed out, dressed in the
purple and yellow of the Mutant Peacekeeping Force.

"Ready, Mysty?" Iceman asked.

Mystique favored him with a thin smile, "Let's see how brainless they really
are."

She shifted into a simulacrum of Moira McTaggert, perfect in every detail.

"Stop."

The snake of troops halted, puzzled by the sudden appearance of their leader.

"Sir? What are you doing here?"

"This was a standard security test tae determine your response time and you
have performed admirably. Return tae base immediately."

"Yes, sir."

As one the phalanx of MPF soldiers clapped their heels together and returned
to their helicopters.

"Excellent!" Jubilee exclaimed, "I can't believe that they fell for that."

"I used to be one of them," Mystique shook her head, "McTaggert's word is
law - you don't even think about the logic behind her orders."

The drone of the klaxons faded away into silence.

"Looks like leBeau and Cheney were successful."

"We just need to wait for Milan to shut it down permanently and then we can
go home."

"We could use some help," Pryde yelled as she rolled to evade the lasers of
one of the Sentinels, releasing a volley of shots as she did so.

Iceman smiled and surrounded ten of the Sentinels with an ice-shield,
dropping their temperature to below zero.

"Now Jubilee."

The young asian let loose a shower of sparks which cracked the ice, shattering
the Sentinels at the same time.

"Don't say it, Bobby. Don't say it."

"Looks like we just kicked some ice!"

Jubilee groaned and zapped another Sentinel. Suddenly, the diodes of their
eyes went black and they collapsed to the floor in a heap. The consoles burst
into sparks and the lights went out, leaving the rebels in darkness.

"Looks like our mission was successful," Milan stated simply, "What a relief."

Remy leBeau laughed, "Let's head home."

Jubilee looked at him expectantly.

"After we pick up some coffee from one o' de leader's warehouses. Need a
double latte after last night."

"Yes!"
 
 

Sabrina Parker, MPF Lieutenant, stepped out of the cold shower. She sighed
slightly, rubbing her short hair dry with the white, fluffy towel. Her small
apartment was in a residential area - a human residential area - with a
minimum of crime or violence. A far cry from the ghettos where the average
mutant lived. Neatly and sparsely decorated, it did not look lived in so much
as unpacked from a box. No surprise as its inhabitant was hardly ever at
home. Tonight was different - she had finally gotten an evening off from duty
and was determined to spend it living like the other half. She slipped into a
long shirt and boxer shirts, her night clothes, and curled up under the warm
patchwork quilt that was thrown across her bed,. Smiling softly to herself, she
turned the radio on to her favorite station and picked up the paperback from
next to her bed. It was a rather unusual choice for a soldier - a romance novel
with a lurid cover - and she knew that her colleagues would laugh if they saw
her reading it. Sabrina had a reputation for having a heart of ice, if she had one
at all. She had long ago relinquished any hope of love or even friendship. Left
that part of her behind when she joined the MPF Academy and became their
most proficent soldier. Top of the class in everything, although her teachers
always called her ruthless. Inhuman. A gentle knock on the door rang through
the apartment and she stood up, picking up the energy weapon that she
always kept next to her bed. She walked towards the door, years of training
muffling her footsteps. Looking through the peep-hole, she saw a young man
standing there, holding a box in his hands.

"What do you want?"

"Delivery for you, Ms Parker."

"That's Lieutenant Parker to you," she said coldly, "Pass it through the crack in
the door."

"I'm afraid I need your signature."

Swearing to herself, Sabrina opened the door and regarded the young man
with a mixture of suspicion and dislike.

"Pass your pen an' Ah'll sign it."

He handed her a yellow pen and she quickly scrawled her signature on the
papers.

"Who is it from?"

"Don't know. I get paid to deliver the packages, not source them."

"Thank you," she said, handing his pen back to him and closing the door.

She placed the large, brown box in the middle of the room. Silently, she
padded her way to her room to get her portable scanner - she wasn't taking
any chances with a package she hadn't personally ordered. Instincts ran too
deep for that. The scanner revealed that there was nothing potentially
dangerous in the package and so she took a knife and slit the tape that sealed
it. The box was filled with packing material - torn newspapers and polystyrene
noodles. Underneath all that was a small, black box with a hinged lid. Sabrina
gently removed it and placed it on the wooden floor of her apartment. A letter
was attached to it and she removed it, opening it with her knife.
 
 

'Lt. Parker,

This black box is a portable, image-inducer as used by the rebellion. We trust
that you shall find it useful in your upcoming investigation. We also apologize
for the fact that we had to use more unconventional methods to give it to you.
It would not be good for our image to be associated with essentially banned
equipment.

Yrs,
O.M.'
 

Sabrina pulled out her Zippo lighter and ignited the letter, watching it burn to
nothing more than ash in her hand. It was standard operating procedure to
destroy all offical communications - to give the rebellion nothing with which to
work. She then turned her attention to the small, black box on her floor. A
portable image inducer could prove to be invaluable in the days ahead.
Sabrina sighed and picked it up, placing it in a drawer next to her bed.
Tomorrow would be the day when she infilitrated the rebel base and shut
down their operation once and for all. For now, the exploits of the Countess
del Monte-Pelado would have to fill the time. Sabrina picked up the lurid
novel and began to read.

"Sir, may I recommend containing your natural exuberance?" She said with a
smile as he placed her back on the foor.

"Ya need t'lighten up, U. We won an' we didn' suffer any losses. Isn't dat
reason enough t'celebrate?"

"May I, at least, post a watch?" she asked, running a hand through her thick,
black hair.

"If ya feel ya must," he shrugged, "I've got Milan riggin' up perimeter alarms as
well. We'll be prepared f'r the witch's next attempt."

"I need to discuss Pryde with you."

"Why? She did well. She be loyal."

"How do you know?"

He tapped his head, "Empathic, if ya remember."

"You mind-scanned her?"

"Non. She broadcasted such waves o' hate f'r de Emissary - I couldn' help but
pick dem up."

"The next one might not be."

"Relax. We won de day - let's not t'ink about t'morrow 'til we have to. Ya be
off-duty 'til 0800 hours."

"Sir," Unuscione saluted.

"An', U, don' worry 'bout de watch - I'll do it personally. Let dem celebrate -
dere be too few times t'do so as it is."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

To be continued . . .