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
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Revelations - Chapter 5
By
John Percy
Damn you, Scott. 'Distraction will get you killed', isn't that what
Sinister told you?
I curse at myself for an instant, and then my years of training take
over in the blink of an eye. I tuck my knees up to my chest, into a ball, and
try to roll in mid-air so that my armored shoulder, and not my head, takes the
brunt of the impact with the wall. At the same instant, I let loose an optic
optic blast for a split second, desparately trying to alter my path in any
way I can.
I'm partially successful; my path doesn't change, but I manage to roll
enough so that my shoulder takes the hit. When I crash into the wall, I think
I feel and hear a loud crack for an instant, and then immense pain rushes
through my body, making me cry out in anguish as I crash to the floor.
Blackness.
**** ****
I groan in pain as I grope out of the darkness into the light. Laying in
a heap on the floor, leaning against the wall, I shake my head, and gingerly,
slowly try to get up. I make a big mistake and try to use the arm that bore
the brunt of the impact with the wall, and a wave a pain is my reward. Cursing
back the pain, I switch arms, and get partly up to one knee. My injured arm
is now just a dead mass hanging off my body. Damn.
As my head clears, I'm actually surprised to hear light footsteps running
off in the distance. It sounds like a woman's footstep; its got to be Grey.
I must have been out for only a few minutes, maybe less. I could have sworn
I'd been out for hours. My throbbing arm and head feel like it, at least.
As I gasp in pain, I wonder why Grey didn't finish me off while I was
unconscious. She had me dead to rights, helpless; but I'm still alive.
Alive, and well enough to get some pay back. Big mistake, on her part. One
I intend to take advantage of.
I try to shake the cobwebs out of my head, but it's doesn't work very
well, so I pull one of those instant pain killers out of a pocket in my
utility belt and swallow it dry. Almost immediately, the pain subsides to a
dull roar, and my head clears, at least temporarily. McCoy made up those
things for the troops a while ago. They work well, but you'll suffer from the
side affects for the next for days. At least it's nothing permanent.
I grit my teeth, and realize if I don't hurry, Grey will get away. After
the shot she gave me, I don't intend to let that happen. I start to first
walk, and then run, hoping my ears aren't playing tricks on me about which
direction the footsteps are coming from. And that they are actually those of
Jean Grey.
As I run after her through the corridors of the Tower, I see that she's
heading for the only possible way out of the Tower besides the front gate. In
the lower levels, in the rear of the building, is the Tower's loading and
processing dock. That looks to be the avenue of escape she intends to use.
Besides, even if she doesn't, it's too big to miss. I try to pick up my pace;
it's time to get in a few shots of my own.
A few minutes later, I arrive at the lower loading area. It's used for
hauling in supplies, extra equipment, and repair parts for the Black Tower's
systems. Large and spacious, its only feature that is of interest to me
is the large loading dock door. As wide as four Infinites, and twice as tall,
it's the only way out of the Tower besides the front gate. Just as I figured,
the loading door has been torn apart like a sardine can - probably thanks to
the telekinetic strength of Jean Grey. Some of the pieces are still vibrating
from the abuse, so I can't be too far behind her. I step through the ripped
apart door, careful not to use my injured arm, and jump down into the large
area outside. Flicking on the infra-red detector on my visor, I peer at the
ground; faintly glowing, I see footprints leading off in one direction. Grey
was here just moments ago.
I scowl; she won't get away from me. Running off in the direction of the
footprints, I give chase to my prey. As I run, I begin to think that Grey
doesn't know where she's going now; the only thing in this direction through
the twisting corridors and hallways are the second level processing areas.
That's where all raw materials, from fuels and materials to humans and
worthless mutants, are processed for use. They are a jumble of twisting
corridors, junk cluttered areas, miles and miles of pipes and conduit, and no
organized layout whatsoever. It's not the way to go to make an escape.
Grey may be a telepath, but she's not all-knowing. She'll get lost soon,
if she already isn't. Add to that fact that she's running scared; she didn't
expect to run into a Prelate on her mission. Maybe that's why she didn't
finish me off. She probably thought I'd be the first of an attack group. So,
she aborted the mission, and ran. And now she thinks the whole EMF is after
her, and that gives me an advantage. An advantage I plan to exploit.
As I run, I can hear her just ahead of me, twisting and running noisily
through the corridor. Running like the hounds of hell are on her heels. I
grin a predatory grin; I'll catch up soon. And when I do, it'll be nothing
like our last encounter. I try to pick up my pace a little more, anticipating
the kill. If I can only get one clear shot...
Only instinct saves my head, and my life, as I round a corner: catching
only the slightest movement in my peripheral vision, I immediately duck and
roll as a large metal bar, seemingly alive, slashes through the air where my
head used to be. Instead, it strikes a piece of piping with a loud clang. I
come out of the roll to one knee, and a quick snap shot of my optic blasts
pulverizes the bar into the wall. I quickly get back up to my feet, and
turning slightly, I see my prey.
She's obviously realized she can't outrun me, and set up an ambush to try
and brain me into oblivion. Not a bad idea; it's something I would've done.
In fact, her little trap had a ruthless efficiency to it that I have to admire.
However, I also would have had a follow-up attack; it looks like she didn't
count on me avoiding the pipe. I don't give her a chance to do anything now;
unleashing an optic blast straight at her chest, this time it's me who's going
on the offensive.
My respect for her training goes up a notch as the beam splays around
her, deflected by an invisible shield. She must have a telekinetic shield up.
I become more impressed. I put enough power into that blast to kill an
unprotected person with ease, but it didn't even move her that much. Still,
it was enough to stagger her a bit, and her natural recoil to the impact helps
distract her some.
Time to switch tactics.
I quickly stand up and start to move diagnal to her, crouching low, and
snap off a dozen or so medium strength optic blasts all around her. I'm not
purposely aiming at her directly; the beams impact everywhere within her
immediate vicinity, off her shield, destroying objects in front of, around,
and behind her. I want to get her as off balance as I can, rattle her a bit.
I watch her throw her arms up in an unconscious effort to protect herself,
and she staggers, trying to get out of the way of the barrage. Her TK shield
blocks most of my shots, but it's like being in an intense artillery barrage;
the psychological effect is sometimes more important than the actual damage.
She recovers, off balance, and begins to run haphazardly away. Unfortunatly
for her, the way she's heading isn't the way out.
I smile a predatory smile. She's confused now, frightened, and alone. I
don't know if she can contact her team-mates, but hopefully my attacks haven't
given her enough time to do that. She might even think they're dead, and for
all she knows, half the EMF are right behind me. Also, for what I understand
about telekinetics, the effort of maintaining her shield against my optic
blasts should be weakening her some.
I start to take off after her, knowing I've got to keep close, keep the
pressure on. I grimace in pain as I forget about my shoulder and move it too
much. The pain killer has helped alot, but it still hurts like blazes. I'll
really be paying for it tomorrow.
I get a glimpse of her back, and pop off a blast, and it wizzes by her
head. She ducks by reflex, slowing her down a bit. Firing another blast to
her side makes her weave off course. A follow up shot at her feet trips her
up, and she lands hard on her chest with a cry of surprise and pain.
I slow down to a jog as I get closer, and get ready to take my first X-man
prisoner. "Alright, you, surrender and it... ugh!" I cry out in pain and
drop to a knee as a small pipe bounces off my head. Fortunatly, the side of
my visor bore the brunt of it, leaving me with only a ringing headache.
Grey takes advantage of my momentary distraction to run again, heading down
a corridor. I seethe a bit; I'm not used to having my opponent not only get
the best of me, but continually getting out of range. These X-men are a well
trained troop, to be sure. I'll have to get Alex to develop some new tactics
for them.
With a grunt, I again take up the chase. Whatever Grey is, she's not a
sprinter. I'm soon almost within visual range again, and I expect to catch
her again as I round the next corner.
Again, Grey suprises me. A kick out of nowhere grinds my kidney into my
ribs, making me grunt in pain, but I remain on my feet. Spinning backwards
on my heel, I instinctively throw a forearm block up by my head; a round
house kick from Grey is blocked.
She's switched tactics, taking the fight to me physically. Probably
hoping I'm one of those lazy EMF troopers who depend solely on their powers,
and don't develop real combat skills. Ordinarily, that would work; on
an ordinary trooper, that is. I am most definitely not an ordinary trooper.
I block another well executed kick, and go on the offensive myself,
using the kick's momentum to spin and throw a backhand strike. Grey expertly
blocks it, though she's obviously staggered by the force behind the blow. I
snarl, determined to press the attack, and unleash a flurry of hand strikes,
chops, thrusts, and body blows, trying to get in close, press my advantage of
size, strength, and experience.
Grey is good, I'll give her that. She manages to block most, if not all,
of my attacks, though it costs her; I can see I'll eventually wear her down.
Smiling ferally, I press the attack even harder, and launch a well-timed
punch right at her nose.
Next thing I know, I'm sailing through the air, upside down, and land with
a grunt on my back some distance behind Grey. Dammit, taken down like some
rookie! I'd gotten overconfident; Grey executed a simple throw a child could
have done, and now I'm flat on my back, helpless, at least for a few seconds.
I tense, waiting, ready to block the follow up attack I know is coming.
Much to my suprise, none comes, and again I hear running footfalls. Grey
has taken the chance that I'd be stunned for a second and waiting for her to
attack, and used that chance to get a head start, again. Cursing, I scramble
up to my feet, and chase after her. Again. I grit my teeth and snarl,
swearing to myself that she won't get away again when I catch her. I won't
underestimate her abilities again.
I mentally berate myself for my performance so far; an average EMF trooper
would've done much better by now. Alex would have disintergrated an opponent
in this amount of time. I shake my head slightly as I run. I must be getting
old, soft; I'm beginning to lose my edge. That's something I simply cannot
allow, not in this world, where only the strong survive. A moment of weakness
can kill you.
I round a corner, more carefully this time, prepared for anything. Grey
is just a little ahead of me, about halfway up a circular staircase around
a huge support pylon. It heads up to the third processing level, and if she
gets there, my chances of catching her go down drastically, since it has more
open ground, and more ways out.
I brace myself, and fire a powerful blast above her on the stairs,
shattering its link to the upper level. As she cries out and twists to avoid
the flying shrapnel, I see her TK shield protecting her from the debris. I
aim another shot directly at her chest; I smile in satisfaction as it flings
her back against the stairway wall, smile as she grunts in pain and fear.
It's time to put an end to this.
I unleash a furious barrage of optic blasts at her and all around her.
I make sure a majority of my strikes hit her shield, as much as I can, as fast
as I can, and as strong as I can. I see some of the blasts get deflected by
her TK shield, but I don't let up. Raising the power of my optic blasts
slightly, I increase my rate of firing even more. By now, the sounds of my
optic blasts fill the chamber, reverberating off the walls, only to be matched
by the sounds of tortured superstructure, conduit, pipe, and Grey's cries of
pain and fear. Soon, I actually lose sight of my target as the destruction and
dust around her obscures my view, but I can still hear her screaming. I
switch the targeting mode of my visor to infrared, and seeing her image
clearly, press my attack even more.
For the next minute, I saturate the area with optic blasts, destroying
superstructures, conduit, stairs, hallways, flooring and ceiling. I leave
nothing untouched, nothing destroyed. I feel the blood pumping through my
veins, the feeling of power and strength, and I thrive in it. Soon, I don't
hear her anymore, so I slow the barrage, keeping an eye out for any more of her
tricks.
A few moments later, I stop. The silence after the noise of my barrage
can almost be felt. I slowly approach the area I last saw Grey, switching my
visor through all its detection modes. As the dust settles I hear, and then
see the object of my pursuit; Jean Grey, huddled under a pile of debris and
ruined machinery, unconscious and lowly moaning.
I nod slightly with the satisfaction of finally ending this chase. It's
what I should have done from the beginning. As I walk over to her unconscious
form, tossing and shoving aside debris in the way, my spirits begin to pick up,
and I really don't even notice the residual pain in my arm and head.
Finally, I stand over my defeated foe. Even bruised, smeared with dust and
dirt, and covered with debris, she is an astoundingly beautiful woman. I pick
up a piece of piping laying on her and toss it away, and she moans in pain.
I smile slightly, thinking it's only fair that I repaid her in kind for my sore
arm and head.
I knee down beside her and check her pulse; it's strong and steady, and
I can't see any startling injuries. She probably protected herself in a last
ditch effort with her TK shield. It wasn't enough to save her, though; just
enough to protect her from serious injury.
I reach down to my utility belt, and take out a hypospray containing a
powerful sedative. I press it to Grey's neck, and push the plunger home, and
with a hiss it delivers its narcotic. It should keep her out for maybe 12, 13
hours. With an unconscious sigh, she falls into a deep sleep, totally
unconscious. It's best to be safe rather than sorry, when you are dealing with
telepaths and telekinetics.
I reach down and take her wrist with my good hand, and with a grunt,
awkwardly pull her up. I try to use my bad arm as little as possible, but
hiss in pain as I use it slightly to maneuver her up to my shoulder, throwing
her over it. She's surprisingly light.
As I start to walk back towards security central with her over my shoulder,
I can't help but smile a bit and murmur.
"Jean Grey, I presume?"
----------geoboundary--
(
geocities.com/soho/studios) (
geocities.com/soho)