All known X-men characters in this story are copyrighted by Marvel Comics.
No permission was obtained, but no profit is to be made from this story. It
is purely for my personal enjoyment and those of its readers. All other
characters, concepts, plots, theories, technology not seen in Marvel Comics
belong to me.
Please don't distribute this without asking me; I probably won't mind if
you did, as long as it wasn't altered in any way. I'd just like to know where
it's going.
Please, enjoy this story, and send me your comments, be they good or
bad, to percy@atlas.webo.dg.com or jpercy@clariion.com.
Thanks for reading!
John Percy
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Revelations - Chapter 6
By
John Percy
As I walk back towards security central with the unconscious X-man, Jean
Grey, over my shoulder, I shake my head a bit about the damage I see. I
didn't realize how bad it was; I guess the combination of the chase and the
battle blinded me a bit to the surrounding damage. It's quite extensive.
In fact, I'd say most of the second and third level processing sections are
pretty much leveled. It will be weeks before they are back up and running.
I shake my head thinking how much worse it would be if it were Alex instead
of me chasing Grey down.
I grunt in pain as I try and shift Grey's unconscious form to a more
comfortable position. She may be light, but carrying anyone is a bit awkward
with a bum shoulder. I finally just decide to live with it, like always, and
see if I can find out what's going on.
With a mental trigger, I turn on the comlink built into my visor. "Cyclops
to Havok. Report status."
Static is my only answer. I frown and try again. "Cyclops to security
central." Nothing. "Anyone receiving this transmission, respond immediately."
Still nothing. I reach up and touch the comlink component of my visor. I
can't feel anything immediately wrong, but I did take a few good hits in the
head region. I guess it fragged the comlink; with its more delicate
components, it is more vulnerable to impacts than the rest of my visor.
I sigh, and resign myself to a long walk back to security central. If
the battle is still going on, I can find out what's happening from there.
If it's over, everyone will report in there. In either case, it's the only
option open right now.
Some time later, I enter one of the main corridors near the processing
levels. Strangely enough, I don't see any EMF troopers or Infinite patrols;
they must either be still involved in the battle, pursuing the X-men, or have
been wiped out. I think the first two choices are more likely, but believe
the last to be possible, too. The X-men are that big a threat.
I pick up my pace a bit, anxious to find out what the hell is going on.
My shoulder protests with a grinding pain, but I mentally beat it down. I've
almost forgotten that I've been hauling Grey the whole time.
In what seems like an eternity later, I finally arrive at the EMF area
where security central, the barracks, and all the EMF facilities are. I frown
a bit as I finally find what I'm looking for. Lining most of the corridors
are partially blasted Infinites; most look salvagable, but some are total
losses. I don't think it'll affect our operations too badly, but it will be
difficult. At the very least, McCoy will be working overtime at his gene
pool to replace these blasted hulks.
What worries me more are the injured EMF troopers sitting next to them.
Most look pretty beat up and bloodied, if not completely wasted. Some of the
injured are unconscious, and look pretty bad. I take a look down the corridor
towards the medical lab, and see quite a line. Looks like McCoy and his
cohorts will be busy for awhile. If they decide to actually do anything, that
is. Survival of the fittest doesn't leave much room for the critically
injured. And McCoy is known for usually deciding that a patient isn't worth
saving, no matter what their condition is. Unless it's for his gene pool.
One thing is for certain: it looks like the battle is over, and the EMF
didn't fair too well. Just from a rough guess of what I've seen so far, it
looks like about 60 percent of the troopers are injured, 20 percent
incapacitated, and 20 percent dead. And the casualty rate will probably rise
through the night. Not good results for the elite of Apocalypse.
I know that my mission to stop Grey's assault on the Brain Trust was
critical, but I still feel responsible for our failure. I am responsible for
the EMF; I hadn't prepared my troops well enough. At least, not well enough
to face the X-men. I should have anticipated this. I should have been able
to stop Grey, and not leave my troopers alone.
This whole fiasco is my fault. My responsibility.
Cursing at myself mentally, a few plans for improvements begin to float
around my head. If I get a chance to implement them, that is. Failure isn't
looked to well upon in the kingdom of Apocalypse. Even if I was the one to
stop the real attack, the attack on the Brain Trust. Just the fact that most
everyone saw me 'run' away, out of the battle, could be enough to get me
killed. My superiors aren't too well known for asking questions first and
shooting later.
Knock it off Summers. You may be a dead man, but you've still got a job
to do. Deliver Grey, get the status of your troops, and get things going
again. If they decide to kill you, there's not much you can do about it now.
Deal with that when it happens.
I continue to walk towards security central, and a few minutes later,
finally arrive. I'm relieved to see the standard Infinite guard at their
posts, plus two more security Rooks. At least some of the troopers aren't
dead. In fact, as I approach, these two look like it was them who saw a
ghost. I guess the word spread about me running away during the battle; they
hadn't expect me to return, especially not with a captured X-man.
I stop a few paces away from them, and without any delay ask, "Who's
inside?" with a jerk of my head towards the open doorway into security.
The taller of the two just gapes at me for a second, then just blubbers,
"Mr. Sinister, Havok, the Guthries and Bedlams. Some others. Sir?" he gapes
again. "Is that... is that an X-man?"
I roll my eyes beneath my visor. "What does it look like?"
"But ... how ... how d'ja ... I mean, was she... but how ..."
I shove by them, towards the door, and grunt, "I don't have time for
this." I stop just before I go through the entryway. I can hear Alex
inside, and I want find out what he's saying first, before I go in.
"... and then the X-men just broke off and ran, sir. With Aurora and
Northstar out of action, we couldn't pursue them after they reached their
evac vehicle." Alex must just be finishing up his report to Sinister.
"A whole garrison of EMF troops, outnumbering the enemy at least 10 to 1,
and you were unable to stop them?" Mr. Sinister's voice, not sounding very
happy.
"But sur!" Cannonball. "This weren't no rebel scum, sur! It wa' the
X-men! They jus' too powerful!" Excuses, excuses.
"I hate to agree with whitey there," Terry, one of the Bedlam Brothers
voice, "But he's right. We were out-maneuvered in this battle."
I hear several murmurs in agreement, including my own silent one. Terry
and his brother Jesse probably had a good guess as to what really happened.
"Is that your assesment, Alex?" Sinister's icy voice again.
I could almost hear the arrogance, the ego in Alex's response. "No sir.
We could have stopped them, maybe even captured or killed them, if it weren't
for the incompetence of some of the troopers." No second guess as too whom he
is implying.
"And which troopers might that be?" Sinister again.
I hear Jesse's voice break in. "Sir, that's not exactly true, sir..."
"Silence!" roars Alex. "These two worthless sacks of trash are part of
the reason for our failure!"
For the next few minutes, a camphony of voices shout and argue back and
forth. Until, that is, an energy blast destroys something, and absolute
silence follows it.
"What do you mean, Alex?" Sinister's voice again, with deadly undertones.
Alex's response is toned with hate. "I mean Cyclops, sir. He abandoned
us during the battle; he ran! At the time we needed his power most, he fled
like the coward he is. He alone is responsible for our failure, our defeat!"
I choose this moment to walk into the room, Grey hung over my shoulder.
"And our only prisoner." Sure, it's melodramatic, but sometimes you need a
litle drama.
After a short moment of surprised silence, pandemonium ensues, but the
only thing I really notice is Jesse and Terry slapping me on my sore
shoulder, congratulating me on my prize.
"She sure is a looker, Scott. Definitely your type." Jesse laughs.
Terry nudges me. "Better watch out, Scott. Jesse already has his eyes on
her." He slaps me again on my sore shoulder.
I grunt in pain. "Enough already! Back to your posts." Terry and Jesse
both give me a wink and a nod, and move back. I can't help but give them a
grin back, but then I get serious, mind on the task at hand.
As I walk toward Mr. Sinister, I walk past Alex, and I can see the look
that's on his face. Pure hatred.
I drop Grey as gently as I can at Sinister's feet. "A prisoner for you,
sir. Jean Grey, the X-man's telepath."
I can hear Alex stride up behind me. "Even if he did capture the X-man,
it means nothing! He ran in the face of battle! He left his troops to face
the danger while he was safe!" He leans close to my ear and hisses, "And I
won't let you get away with it. Brother."
Sinister looks down at me, frowning. "Explain yourself, Prelate Cyclops,
on why you ran in the face of battle with our Lord's most hated enemy, the
X-men." I can tell from his look that if what Alex says is true, not even
being the son of Mr. Sinister could save me. Fortunatly, I've got a little
more than that, this time.
I nod to Mr. Sinister and begin. "Yes, sir. When Alex and his attack
group met up with Bedlam Brothers and I, we were about to assault the enemy in
A-block in a pincher movement." I glance at Terry and Jesse as they nod and
confirm this. "It was then that a damaged Infinite came out of A-block, and
reported that the enemy was the X-men. I decided to alter our plan of attack,
and we all went straight in. In the early stages of the battle, we were doing
fine, but I could see the tables beginning to turn. So I decided to join
Alex in attacking Magneto, when I noticed something."
Mr. Sinister folded his arms and nodded. "And what was that?"
"I noticed that, in what must have been an important battle, all the X-men
weren't there." I pointed down at Grey's unconscious form. "It hit me that
Grey was missing. She and Weapon-X are almost never separated. Also, the
X-men would have needed a powerful telepath to bypass the gate guardians."
Mr. Sinister nods. "Most certainitly. Which reminds me: someone bring
a gene scanner, immediately."
I glance briefly at the EMF rook that runs out of the room in response.
"At first, I couldn't understand why she wasn't there. But something just
clicked - I don't know, maybe it was the fact I knew she was a telepath. Add
to the fact that the X-men's assault on the Pens is nothing short of tactical
idiocy, and something just didn't add up right. So I figured that the attack
on A-block was just a diversion."
At this point, Alex interrupted with a snort. "Are we really expected to
believe this?" He crosses his arms across his chest. "The X-men nearly freed
every prisoner in A-block! That was their target."
I shake my head, and point to a bank of computers. "Wrong. The real
attack was made by Grey on the Brain Trust. If she could destroy the Trust,
the whole complex would've gone to hell and back with the psionic dampening
out. Then, not only would the prisoners in A-block have a chance to escape,
but all the prisoners in the Pens." A collective gasp from the others in the
room interrupts me. "Activate the backup security cameras in the Tower."
Mr. Sinister raises an eyebrow, interested, as a rook activates the backup
cameras in the Tower. Flipping through the circuits, the pictures of the
rook and Infinite bodies, the ruptured gates, and the partially damaged Trust
were displayed for all to see.
"As soon as I figured it out," I continued, "I ran like hell for the
Tower. All the others were either engaged in combat or responding to the
battle; they couldn't stop Grey. Only I could."
I walked over to the bank of computers that controlled the security cameras
in the Tower, and flipped through views as I told my story. "I arrived to find
the gate guardian and other guards dead. I barely got to the Trust's chamber
to stop Grey in time; she was about to implode them, or some other psionic
or telekinetic attack."
I turned around and walked back to Mr. Sinister and the others. "After
an initial fight, she ran. I pursued her out of the Tower into the processing
levels, where I eventually brought her down." No need to go into the details
of how badly I performed. Or how close my victory had been. It would be seen
as a sign of weakness that I can't afford.
"After using a sedative to knock her out, I brought her back here. My
visor's comlink had been damaged in the battle, and I couldn't request
transport or find out what was happening. And that's how I ended up here."
Mr. Sinister nodded, walked up to me, and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"You have done well, Scott. I never doubted you for a moment. And I knew that
if anyone could bring something good out of this escapade, it would be you."
I could see the look of pride in his face, though it was carefully concealed
from the others. "You are indeed one of the elite. Ah, here is the scanner,
finally." The trooper who retrieved it had returned.
As Mr. Sinister takes the scanner and begins to wave it over the prone form
of Grey, I walk back to Alex, who by now is so livid he can barely restrain
himself. "Look, Alex, you did your job. I saw you battling Magneto; no one
else could have..."
Alex brushes by me with a snarl. "Save it, Scott. We all know who won
the glory here. Don't we." Turning on his heel, he stalks off to another
corner of the room, under the pretense of performing his duties.
I watch his receding back, and silently shake my head and scowl. I was
just doing my job; it was never my intention to belittle Alex, or humiliate
him. But that's the way he always takes it, believing that everything I do
is to purposely put him down beneath me. To make him inferior.
I'm about to walk over and have it out with him then and there, but then
Mr. Sinister almost gives a gasp and says, "Unbelievable....impossible."
I turn away from Alex and say, "What?" Even Alex looks back over his
shoulder. Mr. Sinister is not one to drop words like 'unbelievable' and
'impossible' lightly.
He walks over to me. "Take a look at these scans." He hands me the
instrument, a very precise and delicate scanner for genetic makeup. As I look
at the results, I frown, and then gape. "These readings. They can't be right,
can they? The scanner must be in error, or needs to be calibrated."
Mr. Sinister shakes his head as Alex walks up with a scowl on his face;
even he must be interested. "Neither. I performed the test twice, and made
sure the device was calibrated. The results are valid."
Alex grumbles and walks over. "What? What results?"
I hand him the scanner so he can see the results for himself. "Grey here
not only registers as an Alpha-class mutant, but her telepathic and telekinetic
ratings are so high, they go off the scale."
At this, Alex raises an eyebrow. "That powerful? How in the name of
Apocalypse did you capture her, then?" There's that accusing tone again.
I shrug. "I don't know. The scanner ratings are more of a potential
scale, not actual power. Although often the two are the same. Maybe she just
hasn't reached her potential yet?" I look to Sinister to perhaps confirm my
idea.
He nods in response. "The most likely theory, though there are others.
But the fact remains; Grey is a telepath and telekinetic of a powerful level.
That makes her both a dangerous opponent ... and a rare source of genetic
material." He turns to Alex and orders, "Bring the most powerful inhibitor
collar we have, immediately! I am not sure how much longer she will be
unconscious, and I do not want to test Scott's theory if she awakes."
Alex nods, "Yes, sir!" and immediately breaks into a run for McCoy's lab,
where the most powerful collars are.
For the next few minutes I recount details of my pursuit, answering
questions posed by Mr. Sinister. I try not to let on that I had a tougher time
than I was saying, but somehow, I could tell he knew I was leaving some things
out. The others though, all they care is that a turncoat rebel got her ass
kicked. They laughed and joked like it was some kind of joy ride.
Eventually, Alex returns with the inhibitor collar, and snaps it on Grey.
Now totally incapacitated, at least with her powers, she's helpless. Alex
points to two of his cronies and barks, "Alright, pick up the genetrash and
throw her in A-block with the rest."
Mr. Sinister shakes his head. "No, Alex. This woman's gene signature...
interests me. Have her taken to my personal chambers."
Alex frowns. "But, sir, she's an X-man. Imperial orders are ..."
Sinister turns slowly and stares hard at Alex. "Do as I say. This
specimen is to be given the best treatment possible, is that understood? Short
of having her collar removed, or being released, she is to be treated as one
of the elite."
Alex's jaw almost hits the floor, and I have to hold back a laugh. He,
along with the others, begin to babble as one. "One of the elite? But, sir..."
"Silence!" Mr. Sinister does not often show emotion, but when he is angry,
he is a demonic sight to behold. His very voice silences everyone in the room.
"You will all obey my orders, as is your duty! Anyone who fails in that ...
will answer to me." Alex nods, looking down a bit, while his flunkies
scatter like roaches trying to avoid daylight.
"Alright, you two, take the prisoner to Mr. Sinister's quarters!" Alex
points out to the two cronies. "And be careful! None of your typical
clumsiness, you worthless piles of matter!" He and his group pick up the
inert form of Grey, and with an exaggerated carefulness, start to carry her
out of the room. The rest of the troopers go and quickly find something to do
that will take Sinister's attention off of them. Smart ones, those EMF
troopers.
I give Mr. Sinister a glance and quick nod, taking my leave. I need to
get this shoulder checked out, privately, and take a shower. But I stop as I
feel a hand on my shoulder, and hear Mr. Sinister's voice. "Scott."
I look back, and for one of the few times in my life, I see naked pride
in my father's face. "Well done, my son. Well done."
I nod, a slight smile on my face, and turn towards the door, where I see
Alex just leaving, that all too familiar look of hatred on his face.
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