Title: Not Without Purpose
Type of Story: Series (Artemis and Apollo)
Author: Lampetia
Feedback: dianaclampe@yahoo.com
Website: Lampetia's LamPage
Characters: Original characters, X-men
Disclaimer: Hey, of course I didn’t create all the X-Men characters! ;) But I did have a lot of fun creating the ones you’re going to read about. I can only hope you like them as much as I do! Enjoy!




Sergeant Warrick Manning stared into the heavy pile of blue prints until they blurred before his eyes. It was midnight at the base outside of Washington, D.C., and the rain that pattered down against the only window of his office showed no signs of stopping.

But it was not the rain that kept Manning up that night, nor the blueprints.

Alkali Lake had been a disaster. The movement had lost many of their best men in that battle. The casualties had been horrific in number. But most importantly they had lost their only working replica of Cerebro, along with innumerable amounts of time, effort, and information – priceless entities that could never be replaced.

Manning used his pointer finger and thumb to massage the skin between his eyes. After the mutants made their direct attack on mankind, their murderous intent could no longer be ignored by society. That headache that started at the base of your skull, the piercing pain that pulsed harder and harder until you felt yourself losing your mind had left its mark on every human being worldwide. The death screams echoed across the globe. In that moment, surgeries failed. Car crashes lined the streets. Strokes riddled the elderly, and parents watched helplessly as their children’s lives were nearly taken from them forever.

Likewise, the mutant population experienced the same closeness of death from their own oppressors. And in one fleeting moment Manning, like everyone else in the fight against the mutants, could feel their hopes rising, could almost taste a thankful final victory. However, no such reward came. After the species’ survival, it only brought the mutants closer together in a common brotherhood.

Some would see the entire operation as a failure.

But Warrick Manning understood the situation much more clearly than the average observer. Even if the attack united every single mutant in the universe, their numbers would never match those of the rest of the humanity. The incident had finally divided the world into two very distinct categories – something his organization had been trying to establish for years. And eventually, the hate and malice felt against each side would build and build until it reached its peak.

The death of Stryker and the destruction of his base brought with it opportunities that if used correctly could bring unity to the ever-growing anti-mutant movement.

It was then that Sergeant Manning absent-mindedly flipped past the blueprints to stare into the smiling faces of two young teenagers. Teenagers that on any other day could have easily faded into any high school crowd.

That was one aspect that made the war all the more difficult to fight.

The battlefield was your backyard, and the enemies’ faces were those of your children. Nonetheless, the fact remained that when it was either you or this child with the infinite power to end your life and the lives of your men, action had to be taken against them, just as you would hope the man next to you would make that same difficult decision to save your life.

The job was not a glamorous one, but it was one that had to be done. Or humanity would suffer the consequences.

A sharp military knock on his door caused Manning to let the blueprints fall to his desk with a ‘slap.’

“Enter.”

A familiar face was followed by an unintentional slamming of the door and an official salute. “Sergeant Manning,” a young man addressed.

“At ease.” Manning stepped out from behind his desk and gave the officer a warm handshake. “I appreciate your speed, Grey.”

“The least I could do, sir,” he said, taking a seat across from the sergeant. “Stryker was a good man.”

“The best,” Manning said, softly, reverentially.

Officer Lexin Grey, who had only recently joined their ranks, with his blonde hair and blue eyes looked more like a Backstreet Boy than a trained official. But he was efficient and lethal, and had proven these abilities to them time and time again. The boy was also only twenty-five years of age. It was amazing what well-directed rage could produce.

“You’ve been informed of the situation?” Manning asked, his papers clicking against his well-polished desk as he gathered them.

“Yes,” Grey replied.

“Then you understand the dangers of this operation.”

“Dangers don’t concern me, sir.” Grey’s voice grew heated. “Only these mutants and their containment.”

“Understood,” he said. The sergeant’s voice and eyes softened. “How’ve you been holding up, Grey?”

“Well.” The officer gazed downward. “Things at the base have been running like clockwork-”

Manning paused, leaning forward ever so slightly. “I wasn’t talking about the base.”

Grey sucked in a deep breath and slowly released it into the air. “Things haven’t been easy,” he said quietly. “Things like this are never easy.”

The sergeant nodded, not sure of what answer he had expected. “Do you have any questions?” he asked to break the silence.

“I’ve received no written instructions of any kind. Neither has any other soldier in the operation.”

“Information could easily find its way into the hands of the enemy,” Manning said. “Never underestimate the power of these mutants. That was Stryker’s downfall, but it won’t be ours. Documentation only takes place when absolutely necessary.” Manning lifted a heavy, weathered hand to tap his temple. “Keep it up here.”

“Yes, sir.” He paused, shifting inside of his uncomfortable starched uniform. “I do have one more question.”

“Please, proceed,” he said curiously.

Grey’s eyes peered into his. “Bentley said you wanted them alive.”

“I do.”

“What should be done if the mutants do not survive?”

Manning eyes widened at the audacity of the question. “That’s not an option, Grey.”

He took another deep breath, trying to contain his frustration. “Sir, in battle, there can be no guarantees,” he stressed. “One or both might be killed in the capture, it’s a logical probability. Things happen.”

“See that they don’t,” Manning ordered abrasively.

Grey’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “Sir, my objective is first and foremost to ensure the safety of my men.”

“No, your objective is to deliver at all costs,” Manning said. “If they prove too deadly, feign retreat. We know where they’ll go.” When Grey clenched his square jaw, Manning lowered his voice. “Not all mutants are without their purpose, Lex. You’ll grow to see that.”

Grey stared forward tensely, refusing to comment.

Manning rose from behind his desk as a king from his throne. “This operation has spent months in the making.” He smiled confidently at Lexin Grey. “I know in choosing you to lead it, we’ve made the right decision.” He gave a forceful salute to his officer before bringing his hand back downward just as sharply. “I’m sending in twenty-four of my best men and women. There are reinforcements at your disposal. Good luck, officer.”

“Thank you, sergeant,” he said. His face, initially holding only dismay, began to show pride. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Manning watched Officer Grey march out of the building. When he was out of sight, his smile wavered. After so many months of preparation, he prayed they wouldn’t be.