Taken : An Illustrated X-men fanfic by Squeekness.

[squeekness]

Cerebus leaned forward to inspect them. "You are the mighty warriors I've heard stories of?" He laughed contemptuously and glared at Valentin. "Seem a bit small and weak to me."

"Uncuff me and we'll see," Wolverine challenged, keeping the arrogance to a minimum. He was hoping a show of force might make a good impression and earn them a better bargaining position.

Surprisingly, Wolverine’s wish was granted. His cuffs and the restraining collar were removed by two servants. He rubbed his wrists, feeling his strength return and smiled at his freedom. He cracked his neck and shoulders, loosening up and he wondered if he was going to have to fight the old man. It wouldn’t have been much of a contest, Cerebus didn’t look like he would last five minutes against him. It didn’t take long for his unspoken question to be answered.

"Antius," Cerebus said.

Antuis, the white slave and Cerebus' Second came down from behind the throne and approached Wolverine. He casually walked around the smaller man, looking him over. He bowed at Logan respectfully and stepped into a fighting stance, ready. Logan bowed back in equal measure, surprised by his opponent's show of respect and civility, Logan had thought such things as honor and respect were dead in this place. He moved into his own stance and waited. A heartbeat passed and Antius went to it. He lunged quickly, fists flying. Antius was very fast and nimble, quickly reminding Logan of Gambit’s own moves. When they sparred, Gambit was difficult for Logan to beat because of his speed and quick reflexes and Logan usually had to wear him down. The same would probably prove true here.

This fight was more like a gentleman's sparring match to Logan than a real battle. Antius gave a clean fight and did nothing underhanded or unsportsmanlike, not like Valentin’s use of trickery and street survival tactics. He was very skilled and Logan took to wondering just how old he was. He seemed young enough, but he had Fallen's same ageless qualities.

Antius was very strong and matched Logan's thundering pounding with heavy fists of his own. He didn't tire quickly either and it was clear this wasn't going to be a fast fight.

They spun, twisted, hit and kicked, each taking the other's measure. The deciding factor was of course Logan's factor. His healing factor. He could recover from Antius' blows in a way his opponent could not. It took almost twenty minutes before Antius hit the floor for the first time. It wasn't the last. Down and down he went, never cursing or growing angry. He was patient the way a teacher is when he realizes the student has surpassed him and it's now just a matter of time before the match is over.

When Antius breathed his last conscious breath of the afternoon and lay in a crumpled heap at Logan's feet, Logan looked down at the first man he truly respected since they started this stupid adventure. "Not bad."Logan said, grinning at Cerebus and cocking an eyebrow. "Got anything better?"

Cerebus was finally impressed. He snapped his fingers and Antius was carried off to be cared for. Logan grumbled as the restraining collar was replaced around his neck, but again showed some patience and didn’t fight it. He knew his returned healing ability alone wouldn’t be enough to break them free of this place.

Cerebus had Logan seated and turned next to Valentin and Fallen. "You have done well. Come, Fallen."


She stood and knelt before him. Her movements were slow and pained, yet graceful and well practiced. Cerebus started to say something but a frown crossed his face. He'd seen the damage to her face and it displeased him. He turned his scowl on Valentin. "What is this? I was told nothing of any battle taking place."

"There was a disagreement," Valentin explained. He squirmed, uncomfortable. Cerebus was clearly the one man he actually feared.
"While I know Fallen can be somewhat spirited and correction may be at times necessary, I will not tolerate damage to my First Pilot! She should be able to fly without discomfort at any time."

"I beg your forgiveness, my Lord. It will not happen again."

"I should hope not." Cerebus turned now to Fallen who hadn't moved at all during this discussion. "Are you all right?"

She looked up at him, her chin up. "I am well, my Lord. Valentin's fists have done me no harm."

Logan was seated behind her now and he crossed his arms and shook his head with a snort. Why didn't she try to get Valentin called off? He had the feeling she could probably get Cerebus to do it. There was obviously something more going on here than he knew about.

Cerebus ignored Wolverine's rudeness, he spoke to Fallen instead. "Are you ready to fly for me again? I have need of you at Station Six."

"Yes, my Lord. I can depart at once."

"Very well, then. You may leave."

She bowed her head and rose stiffly, in pain. She turned and left, not meeting Logan's heated gaze as she passed.

Cerebus waited until she was gone and turned to Valentin who was still waiting. "You have done well, old friend. You will be rewarded. Is there anything you desire?"

"You know what I want."

Cerebus smiled. "Ah, yes. The pilot. Well, she still owes me a few more weeks. Perhaps when that is done you'll have what you ask for."

"Until then, I am ever at your service, my Lord."

Valentin was dismissed and walked out the way Fallen had gone.

Cerebus returned to his guests and looked at Wolverine in particular. "And, you? Are you at my service?"

"That depends," Logan answered, once more rising to his feet to show he wasn’t intimidated, collared or not. "We ain’t gonna be no slaves. It’s cool ya brung us out of the pens, but we ain’t here ta fight no wars. Yer Valentin there made out like we was gonna just fall over fer ya, but that ain’t happenin’. Not without a better reason than this," he said, tugging on the collar around his neck.

"Perhaps you haven't been properly informed of your situation. You are many miles from home. Not even in the same dimension. When you took that 'jump' on the Dognan ship you traveled across space and time, my friends. You are in our world now. You want to get home, you'll do as you're told."

Beast spoke up. "By what right have you taken us against our wills?"

"The right of survival. We are an oppressed society. The Dognan must be thrown down. The time to strike is very soon. We have only a few short weeks before the Dognan will send a large supporting army to defend what little they have left. We intend to make sure they have nothing to come home to. Once they see how we've driven them out, they will not return. There is nothing here for them. You will work with our strategists to prepare our defense. You will train our best warriors and I think you’ll find the Clan learn very quickly."

"We ain't mercenaries," Wolverine growled.

"Of course, nor will you really be slaves. You will be well cared for and not chained as a proper slave would be. You will be instructors, teachers. It’s for your own benefit really." He laughed when Logan cocked an eyebrow and snorted derisively again. "Don’t believe me? Understand this. You defeat the Dognan here, it will prevent them from raiding your world as they do. Cerise has been the staging point for every raid on your Earth."

Logan just shook his head again. "How do we know that? Where’s your proof?"

Cerebus was unaffected by Logan's attitude. "Don't want to take my word for that? All right, put that aside for the moment and let me offer this proposal. Anyone freed from the pens is usually expected to give a ten year term of service and they usually cheerfully agree. In your case, I'll make an exception. You help us fight, and not only will that term be waived, but I will see to it that you are returned home. Refuse, and I'll have you dumped back into the pens. Your choice."

Gambit wasn’t the least bit pleased with how the conversation was going. Fighting a war, just or not, was not the way he had expected to earn a ride home. He was smart enough to know that not everybody came home from that kind of fighting. "Don' sound like much of a choice t' me, patron," he complained, speaking up for the first time.

"That's cuz it ain't," Wolverine answered. He turned to Cerebus. "We'll help ya out, but if you don't honor yer promise to bring us home, you will pay. Dearly." He popped his claws for emphasis, not caring that his hands split and bled to the floor.

Cerebus sneered, trying to hide his fear and surprise at Wolverine’s hidden weapons. "I'm sure." He motioned to an aide. "Go with this man. He'll take you to be fed and quartered. We'll be seeing each other again soon."

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[squeekness]

(Nine)


The X-men were led away. The arm numbing energy cuffs were removed but the restraining collars were left in place, being newcomers, the Clan only trusted them so far. They were taken through a series of dormitories and given temporary quarters. They had their own small cave that had been reserved for them near where the alpha squads were kept and it was explained to them that if they chose to join the alpha squad, they would be moved. The rooms there were better than this, they were promised.
Henry certainly hoped so. This room wasn’t the least bit enticing. The walls in this room were rough hewn and dismal as the rest of the place had been, no decorations of any kind. Being a cave, there were no windows and the only light came from two small torches and some candles.

The room had four small cots constructed of a rough wooden frame and a stuffed mattress of straw. Henry hoped they weren’t infested but had serious doubts. The blankets were worn and thin, rejects from happier times. They were rough and made of some kind of woven yarn with plenty of holes, how nice. Henry was so big, it would’ve taken four or five to cover him but they only had one a piece. At least it was warm here, his fur would be enough.

There was a small bathroom to the back, or what passed for one here. It had no shower or bath, only a sink with an ancient hand pump to draw water. The toilet was little more than a outhouse in one corner of the room. At least it didn't smell, it must have been treated with something. A cracked mirror was over the sink. The floor was also stone with no coverings and had a layer of dust on it. They were the first ones to stay here in some time.

They would have no real privacy. The door was a large hanging leather skin with the fur removed. Anyone walking by would hear them talking so they would have to be careful what they said. A small dangling string of rocks was rattled to announce if someone wanted to enter. The Lucky Dragon didn't have much but it already seemed like a palace compared to this place.

The aide bowed and left them, saying another man would come to help them settle in.

"I 'ope dis war don' be lastin’ too long. Gambit not likin’ dis, mes amis," Remy complained as soon as they were alone. He didn’t like the way the hard stone walls seemed to be closing in on him. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but was very uncomfortable with the idea of living underground. He had grown up poor and hard before he’d been adopted and wasn’t happy to be living so rough like it had been then. He had hoped to leave those times behind him forever. He looked at the bed and couldn’t stop the shiver of revulsion that rocked him. His early poverty had made him clean, he didn’t relish the idea of what might be crawling around in there.

"You and me both," Henry agreed, sharing Remy’s sentiment. He saw no books or entertainment of any kind. How would he possibly keep his over achieving mind busy? He was no soldier, that was for sure, and he prayed for an early end to this or at least a nice vigorous rescue.

Logan said nothing, just sniffed at everything suspiciously. Rough living was not a problem for him, not for a man who'd spent years at a time running around the Canadian woods half naked. He felt for his compatriots, though. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy for them and vowed silently to do his best to get them through this.

He turned when their rocks were rattled and watched as Henry pulled the skin drape back.

A servant with Cerebus' markings greeted them. "I am Zekian. I have been assigned to see to your needs," he explained. "I have brought a woman for you." He stood aside and allowed a small woman to pass by him into their room. She carried a cloth bag and a sleeping mat.

"I assure you that won't be necessary," Henry stammered.

"But of course it is," Zekian insisted. "She will clean for you and she will also be your guide. You must learn the facility and I will not always be available. Of course, she will also attend to you...in any way you may need," he finished suggestively. "We are aware that most alphas are very full of vigor, yes. You are very valuable to us and we will see you are cared for properly. She has been well trained and will surely satisfy you gentlemen."

Logan looked her over and sniffed at her. She was tiny, little more than a girl, and very pretty. A deliberate bribe. Of course she was a spy and they would have to put up with her. He grinned at her in irritation, showing his teeth, and she backed away nervously.

"Really, I don't see how this is necessary...." Henry tried but got nowhere.

"Surely, the three of you... Big, strong men... I could send for a boy?"

"No! No! This is fine," Henry said in exasperation. He smiled at the fool. "This is more than we could expect."

"Good then. I'll be back in the morning and give you a quick tour before we start working with Cerebus. Good morrow, gentlemen." He left.

Henry looked at their guest and smiled, trying to make her comfortable even though he most assuredly was not. "And what is your name?"

"Shawzy," she said softly with a demure smile. She was obviously well trained and submissive.

"Well....Shawzy. We seem to have an extra bed. You could sleep there."

She lay her mat on the floor in a corner. "It is not permitted," she said simply.


Henry looked at Gambit who shrugged. "No one would know. Surely that mat can't be comfortable," he insisted.

She smiled at him like he was an idiot. "It is not permitted. I will sleep here."

"As you wish."

Shawzy looked at them, lost in the uncomfortable silence that followed. "You wish to eat?"

"Sure. Dat'd be nice," Remy replied and beamed his charming smile on her. He offered her his arm and she took it eagerly, basking in the attention this handsome young devil was giving her. He doubted anyone had treated her so nicely and was quick to show her what a real gentlemen was. "You show Gambit everyt’ing, now, s’il vous plait. We got plenty of time, chere." He swept her out the door and Logan and Henry followed, laughing, Remy could charm anybody.

The military quarters seemed to be run like a commune with dormitories and large eating places. There were no private quarters, no stores, no taverns. She brought them to one of the less crowded dining halls and sat them down at a table. She left them to get their food from what looked to be a buffet style table in the back. She came back laden with trays and waited on them without eating herself.

Gambit wasn't surprised Shawzy didn't eat. The food was terrible. They were served greasy stringy hunks of meat with gravy. The meat was at least fully cooked, but not much better than the food from the holding cell. There were no real vegetables, just lumpy potato things. The Lucky Dragon was looking more and more like luxury living.

Gambit sighed and ate only from the bread they were given. Again, he was reminded of his days at the orphanage and felt a swelling of depression sweep over him. He had done without food before and he would do so again. He had grown quite accustomed to the fine dining at the Xavier Mansion. They were given room and board for being on the team as well as a decent paycheck. The kitchen there was always well stocked and he loved to cook. He would often buy new cookbooks just to experiment and most of his teammates enjoyed what he came up with. Of course, he had a weakness for the spicy Cajun food of his native New Orleans and was an accomplished chef in that regard. He might not have been the most accepted member of the household, but when it was his turn to cook and the scent of cayenne pepper and fine wine came wafting out of the kitchen, he always had a full house at his table.

Logan gave up and dug right in with a grin. With his constitution, food was never a problem. He had been a soldier most of his life and the old ways still stuck — Eat while you can, when you can, because you never know when your next meal will be. He was already checking out the men around them, sizing them up and thinking of ways to get out of this. He hoped they wouldn’t have to fight, but if it came down to it, he would look out for the others and keep them safe. He would bring them back alive or die trying.

Henry was ill just watching Wolverine eat and he picked at the bread with less enthusiasm than Gambit. He needed to lose some weight anyway, he teased himself. They were given a choice of beer or wine to drink, nothing else. He was a teetotaler himself and this was just another form of torture. The Clan had to be chain smoking alcoholics, he groaned to himself. Already he missed the comforts of the Lucky Dragon and the pleasant comradery between Fallen and her boys. This was going to be a long painful stay.

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[squeekness]

(Ten)

Henry slept poorly in his new bed. He simply couldn't get comfortable with no back support and these rough smelly blankets. It didn't take long for him to join the others on the floor. Gambit was out cold, snoozing deeply, but it had always been easy for him to sleep anywhere. Henry remembered the time he saw Remy dozing comfortably in X-men's Blackbird jet while standing up. They had been on a horrible mission and none of them had slept in days. Remy wasn’t a soldier and didn’t know diddly about flying the plane so he just grabbed a ceiling strap and zonked out right on his feet. They were making their great escape in the middle of a fire fight, surrounded by enemy fighters, but the Cajun thief never flinched or woke. The kid was strange.

Henry looked next to him and saw that Logan was awake as well. He was lying on his back staring into the dim light of one of the wall torches, scratching his belly absently with one hand. He looked like he was worried, but it was more of a matter that he was relaxed and comfortable and really wanted a nice cigar right about now. He hadn’t smoked one in a while because of this trip and was sorely missing them. Logan turned to him with a small smile. "Somethin’ on yer mind, Blue?"

"Not really. Just hoping this all turns out well. I don’t think I’d like to make this my permanent residence."

"That makes two of us. Why don’tcha try an get some sleep? It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow."

Henry grunted and rolled over. He was far more comfortable on the floor and soon dropped off into a dreamless sleep.

They were collected the next morning just outside their door by Zekian. He was to give them a tour of the areas where they would hopefully be working soon. "I'll show you around some and then we'll start working with some of the strategists," he said.

Zekian led them first to the arsenal. This weapons dump consisted of several large caves that were stockpiled with many different kinds of weapons and military supplies. The area was heavily guarded and they had to keep checking in with the guards when they passed from one room to the next. Henry and Remy hung back a bit, they knew nothing of these things and let Logan handle this.

Zekian brought them into the first cave of the arsenal where they saw some crates that were neatly stacked against the back wall. Like everything else here, they were made of wood and had Dognan markings on them. Logan was allowed to open one and he was quite surprised to see some land mines and grenades. They were ancient and looked to be World War II issue, but no less dangerous for being so. Land mines were not something he had considered here and he wondered numbly if the pens had been booby trapped. He was glad they hadn’t been there long enough to find out, but if they went back out into the ruins, they would have to be careful.

"Where did you get this stuff?" Wolverine asked, not caring for how old some of this stuff was. His extensive training in the art of war made him painfully aware that old ordinance like this could be far more dangerous than new.

Zekian was quick to answer Logan’s question. "Our First Pilot, Fallen, is very resourceful. She has been known to raid the Dognan storerooms now and again and when she finds stuff like this, she brings it back to us for us to use. Where the Dognan get it, I can’t imagine." Zekian moved on, pointing out other items of interest. "We have mostly swords and bows, but we do have some Dognan energy weapons."


"You'll need more than what I seen here ta fight a war," Logan advised. "Ya wanna beat these guys, you gotta have the same weapons they do or better."

"That won't be a problem. Fallen just received some information regarding a shipment of weapons to be delivered to one of their storage houses and she is planning a raid. If she is successful, it will vastly improve our inventory."

Zekian led them further in where they next saw some laser cannons and demolition supplies. Powdered TNT and sticks of dynamite were in small boxes carefully labeled. There were even some cubes of C4 left haphazardly about, making Logan’s fingers twitch in nervous irritation. He knew just how dangerous that stuff was, it was worse than those land mines he’s seen earlier. These fools were going to blow themselves to bits and hand the Dognan their victory without the cat guys even knowing it.

Logan had received extensive training in explosives and special forces operations. He knew how to construct bombs and their timers. He knew best how to place them and keep his people out of harm’s way and he had an idea he was going to be instrumental in anything these guys had planned. This type of warfare was something the Professor discouraged and Logan had never taught a class like that at the school, but he’d never forgotten what he himself had been taught.

Zekian pointed to the dynamite and plastic explosives. "We have these but we don't know how to use them. We were hoping maybe one of you might be able to teach us."

Logan grinned in anticipation, the first place he would start was how to keep that stuff locked up. Casualties were supposed to happen during the war, not before it due to stupidity. "I can help ya there, no problem."

In the last cave, there were neat rows of swords stacked and bows hung. They were homemade and not the nice modern weapons like he’d seen back home. The only good thing about them was that there were a lot of the in case they fell apart.

They then moved on to the training areas where the Clansmen were taught how to fight. Remy and Beast perked up a bit here, both had given self defense classes back at the Mansion and were curious how the Clan trained their men. One room was as spacious and open as the ship hanger. To make it easy to see in the darkness, the room was lit with torches and biers burning every few feet. They could see large squads of men performing martial exercises in a neat and orderly way. Each squad had a handler or trainer who walked among them carrying large bull whips. The sound of cracking and lashing was constant and loud, these handlers showed no mercy and were obeyed without question. You learned or got beaten, those were your options.

Logan couldn’t help but growl softly at the sight of it. While he didn’t exactly disapprove of corporal punishment for a glaring offense, if they tried to use the whip on him, someone was going to be in for a nasty surprise. He would jam that thing so far up the handler’s ash, he’d be sh--ting leather for a week.

"Those are Valentin's men," Zekian explained, obliviously noting Logan’s interest without realizing the guy was pissed off. "They are the most highly trained and the most skilled. He rules them with an iron hand and they love him. He is the greatest hope of our people."

Zekian showed them another area with large cubicles and mirrors. Here men sparred with each other in hand to hand combat. Henry was surprised to see some of the men working with holograms. He never expected to see that kind of technology used here in this primitive place. The holograms were of very poor quality, not like what Fallen was using or the nice ones back home. They were solid like Seth had been, but had no details or faces.

"These are the where the newest men start out in their training," Zekian explained. "These holograms are poor though a while back we used to have some rather good ones. Siskan. But we had some trouble with them. One of them went crazy. Thought it was real or something. It malfunctioned and killed some of the men. That's what happens when you take a pleasure program and convert it over for military use, I say," he said with a laugh. "I was one of the lucky few who got to try the pleasure programs out before they changed them all over. Quite wonderful, I tell you. Better than a real woman any day. She'd do anything you asked --- anything! Shame the Dognan killed off all the real Siskans who made those wonderful holograms. It would've been nice to have more of them. Worst thing the Clan ever did was dump all those programs. Who knows where they all went to?"

The X-men exchanged meaningful glances at each other. They now had an idea where one of them may have gone. Henry was immediately concerned at the idea of a Siskan hologram that went crazy and killed someone. When he looked back on it, Kimble and Seth’s emotional instability could be a sign of some sort of damage. It certainly made no sense for Fallen to have chosen them to be like that, who would want a companion that argued back? If Fallen did indeed possess one of those Siskan holograms, she could be in danger. Unfortunately, at the moment they had no way of contacting her.

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[squeekness]

They were next taken to where the alpha troops were working. If all went well, this would be where they were moved to next, to be with their own mutant kind. Here things were less formal since these men were used mainly for stealth and black ops. There were no handlers with whips here and for the first time, the X-men saw some women soldiers. As alphas, they were considered special and privileged since there were only a few of them. The ratio of human to mutant back home was less than half a percent of the normal population. In order to flood this barracks with alphas, the Dognan would have had to make many raids indeed.

The X-men were told that these alphas here worked closely with the Clansmen but since most of them came from off world like the X-men, they didn’t share the Clan ideals of subjugating women. The skills of the women were too valuable for them to be beaten or wasted as servants. Here they were well dressed and fed, walking about as freely as any of the men. Henry noted with great interest that there were a couple of white skinned pilots. They, too, were treated as equals and seemed to belong here. None of the alphas or pilots here wore restraining devices of any kind.

Logan grinned when he caught a familiar scent and heard a sharp whistle from across the room. "Well, now this is sight for sore eyes!"he growled as their long lost friend Jacob came running over. Jacob was the one they had gone in search of when this whole weird adventure had begun. Logan held his hand out and Jacob took it, pumping it madly.

"My word! I never expected to see you guys here!" Jacob said, his grin wider than Logan's. Jacob was a medium sized man, blond and blue eyed. He was in the best physical condition Logan had seen him in and was obviously thriving in his new environment, bright and happy. Jacob’s ability as a teleporter would make him very valuable here and it seemed that the Clan was smart enough to see that he was comfortable.

"Yeah, well. It wasn't exactly planned."

Jacob cocked his head. "Dognan express?"

"Got it in one."

"Yeah, we were lookin' for you, mon ami," Remy added. "Guess dem cat guys t’ought we were too good to pass up, neh?"

Jacob looked at Remy, saw his crimson eyes with recognition, and addressed him with a small sneer, "LeBeau."

Jacob’s greeting had all the warmth of a frigid arctic breeze. Even this far away from home, Remy’s bad reputation had preceded him. He didn’t know Jacob well, but this wasn’t the first time he hadn’t been well received by others he didn’t really know. Remy nodded at him but said nothing more, silenced by Jacob’s obvious dislike of him.

Henry gave Jacob a big blue squeeze, trying to divert Jacob’s attention away from his less than beloved teammate. His physician’s eye went right to work, grateful for once that the Clanspeople here wore so little. He noted as Logan had that Jacob seemed to be doing much better than he had in the past, but couldn’t help himself but ask, "Are you well? We've all been very worried about you since you vanished."

"I'm fine. Never better."

"Yes, I can see that."

"They got you runnin' in hoops?" Logan grumbled. He still wasn't happy with their current situation and wanted a more reliable opinion of what things were like here.

Jacob shrugged casually and said honestly, "Not really. I wanted to join up after they dragged my ash out of the pens. One overnight stay in there was enough to convert me, thanks."

"You were there, too? It was pretty awful," Henry said.

"Yeah. Like I said I was there only one night before the Clan came and bailed me out. Did you guys meet that crazy pilot? Fallen? What a trip, man. That guy Kimble cracked me up."

"Yeah, we met 'em. What about Kimble?" Logan asked, curious.

Jacob laughed as he explained. "We got struck outside the hanger here, waiting for clearance? We had to wait a while and we were all bored so he's up there sittin' at his desk, smoking. He starts telling these hilarious dirty jokes. I mean, the guy never stopped. I've never known anybody who knew so many. I was crackin' up. It was great. I'd love to meet that guy for real some day, he was a riot."

Logan glanced at Henry. It seemed that Jacob didn't know Kimble and Seth weren't real, the illusion had been that perfect.

"Sounds like your experience was better than ours," Henry commented, not bothering to set his friend straight. It didn’t matter what Kimble was or wasn’t here. Henry went on to briefly detail their horrific adventure with Valentin, he wanted to hear what Jacob would have to say about it.

Jacob shook his head. "That sounds a little crazy, my friend. Valentin is a hard guy, yes, but I've never seen him do anything like that. He's actually pretty decent. He reminds me a lot of my drill instructor when I was in the army. He works just as hard as the rest of us and goes right into battle with us, no matter what. He never has us taking any risks he doesn't take for himself. I hope you join up with us. Then you'd see."

"We weren't exactly given a choice," Logan said. "We're here fer a while."

"Good. You'll see it's not so bad. The alpha squads get better privileges and quarters. I'm surprised they didn't take you here directly."

"Maybe they wanted to see if we would back out."

Jacob smiled. "I hope not. We could really use you guys, especially you," he said to Wolverine. "We need a guy who knows explosives."

"What's goin' on?"

"A big raid. It won't be for a while but we have to get ready. I think they want to blow up the main Dognan base just north of here. We take that out and they'll run with their tails tucked, I guarantee it."

Zekian cleared his throat and the reunion was over. The X-men followed him back to Cerebus' chamber and planning room. The strategists showed them what few plans they had and they and the X-men spent the rest of the day going over what could be done. It seemed the Clan had plenty of resources, they just weren't being used as effectively as they could be and the X-men were quick to point out ways they could improve. That one thing alone was worth having them there. Cerebus was pleased with the day's progress and told them they would be moved to the alpha quarters in a couple of days.

When they returned to their quarters, a package was waiting for them outside the door. Henry picked it up and brought it inside. He opened the bundle and saw three wrapped boxes, one for each of them. Gifts from Fallen, a note said. He opened his and was pleased to find four large books on various subjects. She had included a translator so he could read the different languages. Remy was given several packs of finely decorated Clan playing cards. Logan got a bottle of quality liquor and some cigars. ‘Don't ask me where Seth found those...’ her note said and Logan grunted with amusement.

Henry saw those with a groan. He had a low tolerance for tobacco smoke and things were bad enough with all the torches around. The last thing he needed was cigar smoke added into the mix."I hope you don't plan on smoking those in here."

"Nope," Logan grinned, lighting up.

Henry rolled his eyes. Yes, this was going to be a long trip indeed. He smiled when he saw that Fallen had also packed a small amount of fresh food for them. She clearly knew just how bad the dining was here and felt bad for them. They decided to eat sparingly and make it stretch. Who knew how long they were going to be stuck here?

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2495701/1/

 

[rjb182]

Wow... this is really good stuff! Very well-written!

 

[squeekness]

Thanks! I appreciate you taking the time to tell me so. I hope you like the rest.

 

[squeekness]

(Eleven)

The X-men were moved to the alpha quarters as promised once Cerebus determined they wouldn't try to fight or resist. All their restraints were removed and they were allowed to roam about freely. They weren't so foolish as to believe they weren't being watched. Still, they settled in that night and tried to make the best of their situation.

Jacob was right when he said the alphas had better quarters. Their beds were significantly cleaner and they were given some Clan clothing and boots in good condition. Henry suggested that they dress like the Clan to be less conspicuous. Their Earth clothes were different and stood out. It was warm enough in the caves that it wouldn’t be a too cold for them to go without shirts. Besides that, they had no real way to clean their regular clothes. They had access to a lovely ice cold bath, but not hot water. It was better than nothing so they would just have to deal with it.
The Clan was infested with head lice, but there was nothing to be done about it. Soon, they would be scratching and complaining as much as everyone else. Henry hoped it wouldn't be long for the last push to be made so they could get out of here. He had the most body hair and was certain to be infested all over. They were given jobs and told they would be paid thirty credits a week, quite a princely sum they were later to learn.

The alpha squads accepted them readily and they became part of the family. There were many different kinds of alphas here -- telekinetics, teleporters, and men of great strength and wisdom. Henry was interested in the few pilots that were included in their ranks. Only two had been made by the Dognan and neither one was as powerful as Fallen. The others were children of the first two and even weaker. They looked completely human, but could produce small amounts of Ristle and were telekinetic. They flew ships, but always in twos and threes, never alone because they just weren't strong enough. Henry was convinced that if it was going to be a pilot that took them home, it would have to be Fallen.

Jacob gave them a brief history on the Clan. The Clan didn't create Station Nine, they found it empty and claimed for themselves, just as Beast had suspected. Whatever perks that existed then -- like scentless outhouses -- they accepted gratefully.

Until recently, the Dognan hadn’t cared that a few crippled white slaves from the pens had gotten out and settled down out here. They had plenty of new slaves any time they liked and cared not what they did. The Dognan used to fly out here and make sport with any slaves they could see, hunting them down like animals, but otherwise left them alone. The Clan had been living here in the caves for about two hundred years and over time had grown in number and power as they gathered their strength. They raided the furthest Dognan store houses and stole as much technology and comforts as they could. Still most of the conditions here were poor.

Everything had changed about twenty years ago when Cerebus took over and really organized the men. The addition of alphas to their ranks boosted them even more. With their unique talents, the Clan were finally able to inflict some serious damage on the Dognan. The Dognan were unprepared for the assault and the Clan took most of them down easily. There was one last stronghold left.

------------------------

Remy woke in his bed on the first day of his new life as a Clansman with a disgruntled sigh. He wanted to be back home in the worst way. He loved adventures as much as the next guy but this was getting to be too much. He missed his home, something he never thought a drifter like himself would ever feel. He snickered softly. Not home. Rogue. He missed that fiery Southern Belle more than he could say and he could really use one of her bright shining smiles right about now. He’d even settle for a rip roaring fight, flying tables and chairs and everything.

He closed his eyes and pictured her face, trying to hold it in front of him forever. If he could hold onto that one thing, he could keep going. He felt horrible when he thought about how casually he’d said good bye to her before they had left for that last mission. Cocky as ever, Remy had assumed nothing untoward would happen, he certainly never imagined he would find himself somewhere where he might never see her again. Just the thought of it made his chest hurt. He would make it back to her no matter how long it took.

He let go of her and sat up, putting his feet on the floor. He hated it here, it was so dark and dreary. Sometimes he felt like he just couldn’t breathe in here and would find himself shivering for no reason although it was plenty warm inside the caves. There were no windows and no sunlight. Thinking of the cloudy skies of Cerise made him realize a window probably would be a waste of time anyway.

He knew Henry wasn’t happy about the head lice but it was torture for him as well. With all the kids being rotated in and out of the orphanage, he’d been infested several times. Long hours he’d sat in misery while his hair was combed out for eggs. He’d even been made to endure a buzz cut a couple of times. That had been horrid, he loved his hair long and prayed he wouldn’t be forced to cut it now.

He grabbed the neatly folded pile of his new clothes and shuffled off to the bathroom. He washed up as best he could, shivering from the ice cold water. As bad as he hated bugs, freezing was worse. Ever since he’d been left alone in the frozen wastes of the Antarctic, he could never stand the cold anymore. He’d spent more than a week freezing his ash off in the remains of their enemy’s ruined base, numb, starving, praying for a death that had never come. He was found by some sledders who saw the ruins and wanted to check it out. They brought him back to civilization, but part of his soul would always remain there.

Gambit looked at his reflection in the large cracked mirror over the sink. His hand traced the savage scars on his chest that were a present from the infamous Victor Creed, also known as Sabretooth. They were a dark grey now, but he remembered a time when they had been a deep and ugly red, a more accurate mark of his terrible sin.

Sabretooth, the man who had mauled him so badly, was a vicious mercenary mutant with large claws on either hand, a five fingered Cuisinart that could put Freddy Kruegar to shame. He had been present on what was probably Remy’s biggest screw up of all time and gave him these as a parting gift. He’d been almost eviscerated and hadn’t been expected to survive, Sabretooth rarely had folks walk away from his five fingered "massages". These scars were a permanent reminder of Remy’s guilt and his inability to ever make up for such a horrific crime. It had happened years ago, long before he had joined the X-men and his keeping a secret of it had been the reason he’d been booted off the team once. He was back, but his heart was still heavy with it and he supposed it always would be.

"Gambit, you a t’ief an’ a killer. Best get used to de idea, ‘cause it ain’t never gonna change," he whispered softly to himself. He looked into his blood red eyes and saw the sadness there. He didn’t like it so he grinned and ran a playful hand through his hair in an attempt to shove all of his bad feelings down. "Self pity don’ suit you, homme. You gotta snap outta dis," he scolded himself.

He dressed in the uncomfortable leather pants and walked out. He felt uneasy and exposed because he was never without a shirt back home. He had covered up his scars like he covered up his crime and tried to think about them as little as possible. He paused to let a sleepy eyed Logan pass him by. He saw Wolverine check him out, his exposed scars in particular, and was grateful the man walked by him without saying a word.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2495701/1/

 

[squeekness]

Gambit saw Henry sitting up from his bed. Henry smiled at him, but his grin faltered a bit when he saw Remy’s scars. It had been a long time since he’d actually seen them and it showed on his face. Remy locked eyes with him, his shoulders in an arrogant slouch, daring Beast to say something.

"You’ve got a class today," Henry said as a greeting.

"Dat’s right. Gonna teach dese losers how ta fight like de great an mighty X-men. Dey gonna be heroes, man. De meilleure qualite’, non? De best," he boasted. He went to his bed and picked up a long wooden staff in a leather sheath. Jacob had acquired it for him at Logan’s request and Remy used a leather thong to tie it to his back as the Clansmen did their swords.

"Well, at least you seem to be approaching this with the proper attitude. I myself would much rather be home in my lab. When I think of all the work I shall have to start over again...." He sighed. "Oh, well. One does need adventures to grow as a person. However, I thought I was large enough already. Well, you’d better be along. Don’t want to be late."

Gambit nodded at him and left. He walked down the rough carved hallways of Clan Station Nine and tried to perk up a little. He had taught students in self defense back at the Mansion so teaching wasn’t new to him at all. He was actually quite good at it, moving the students along with a surprising amount of patience. There was just about a million other things he’d rather be doing right now. He found the training room with no difficulty and looked over his class. He’d been given a small group of newbie alphas. They were only about six or seven in number and he didn’t recognize any of them from home. That didn’t bother him at all. He was something of a social creature when he was away from the X-men’s Mansion and had no trouble working with groups of strangers.

"Bonjour, mes amis," he said with a grin, hoping to put them at ease. "Dis ‘ere is Gambit. He gonna be teachin’ you some of de X-men’s best tricks, d’accorde?"

One of the larger alpha males looked him over. "Gambit, huh? I know of you. You’re that Cajun thief. I’ve heard all about you."

Remy groaned inside. He should have known he wouldn’t be that lucky. When rumors of his crime first broke, it spread through the mutant community like wildfire and Remy became isolated among his own kind. The only company who really tolerated him now were non-alphas who didn’t know what had happened and some of the X-men. Even a million miles and a dimension hop or two away from home and his reputation still preceded him.

Whatever, Remy thought, his emotional defenses falling neatly into place. He just grinned and swept a hand through his hair. "De femmes still talkin’ ‘bout me? Well, Gambit’s got plenty more of dat good lovin’ ta go around," he teased, winking at one of the female students.

"I heard you’re nuthin’ but a low life, thieving piece of murdering trash."

Gambit’s grin never faltered, but eyes grew colder. "Dis t’ievin’ piece of trash gonna kick your flabby white butt all ‘round dis room, you keep runnin’ off your mouth like dat."

"Is that a fact?"

"Oui, dat’s a fact."

"Peter, don’t..." a small white pilot said to the man, holding his arm back.

He looked at her in disgust and gave her a shove. "Somebody’s gotta show this scumbag what we do to killers of our own kind."

He lunged at Remy, but the smaller man side stepped him easily. Remy stuck his foot out and Peter took an ungraceful dive, landing on his face in a tangled heap.

Remy clicked his tongue at him in mock disdain. "Tsk. You kinda slow dere, fat boy. Too bad you ain’t as fast as yo’ mouth."

Peter got up and dusted himself off. He glared at Remy who stood by easy, a cocky look on his face. He decided that he was probably too slow after all and a change of tactics was in order. He raised two orange glowing fists, and fired off two bursts of plasma energy as if his hands were a gun.

Remy dodged the blasts quickly and easily, having faced much more powerful and talented foes than this. "Not much into a fair fight either, Petey boy? Dat’s all right, Gambit’s got you covered," he said arrogantly, sliding his new bo staff from its sheath.

They went to it and chased each other about the room. Peter was working very hard, huffing and puffing and it wasn’t long before it sank in that he’d chosen the wrong boy to pick a fight with. Gambit outpaced him easily, showing off and joking around. It was even more telling that Remy wasn’t even trying to use any of his mutant powers, he was doing this all by his hand to hand training and natural fighting ability. Gambit figured this was as good a way as any to give a demonstration of his skills. He also reasoned that the only way to earn any kind of respect was to beat this bully down. He wasn’t cruel by nature and didn’t let the fight drag out too long. He gave Pete a sharp crack to the back of the head with the staff and tripped him again.

Pete went down hard and lay on his back, panting. Remy approached him with fluid grace, not even winded, and put the butt of the staff against his chest. "Bang! You dead, sucker," he teased with an arrogant grin.

"What’s going on here!"

Remy looked up as Valentin came in the room in a huff, Wolverine in tow behind him. Valentin had heard all the racket from Peter’s plasma bursts and came in looking for the source of the trouble. He wasn’t too surprised to see Remy in the middle of it, Valentin had pegged Gambit as a trouble maker right from the beginning.

"Jus’ givin’ a little demonstration, boss," Gambit replied smoothly, backing off.

Pete sat up and looked at Wolverine. Logan was a senior X-man and bit more recognizable so Peter pointed at him. "You! You’re an X-man! Don’t you know who this guy is?!"

"Of course I know," Logan replied evenly.

"You guys came in together! How can you stand there and not take him out! How could you take him in and have him on your team!"

"‘Cause he’s saved my life more’n once. He’s proved himself ta me and the team," Wolverine replied with complete honesty. "He’s a better man than most --- in spite of what he may have done in the past. I trust him with my life and so should you."

"My brother was a Morlock!" Peter shouted loudly, spitting with his rage. "He was down there in the tunnels when that scumbag you call your friend led those vicious killers down there! My brother is dead because of him! I won’t work with him! I refuse!"

"You owe the Clan a ten year term of service and you will do as you’re told!" Valentin ordered, his size and aggressive posture begging no refusals. He didn’t know what was going on here, but this wasn’t the first time alphas from different factions collided unpleasantly. The best thing was to put it down quickly and get back to business. "We will fight this war and we will fight it together. After that, the two of you can settle up in any manner you like."

Remy took a step back when he heard Peter mention his brother. His face had paled and his shoulders slumped in a submissive posture Logan had come to know all too well. Remy often walked the Mansion this way when he was among some of his more unforgiving teammates. His teasing manner was gone and he kept his eyes down. "Je suis de’sole, homme. I’m sorry about yo’ brother. I know it probably won’ mean anyt’ing to you now, but I never meant what ‘appened. It was a mistake."

"How could you not know? You’re nothing but a lying scumbag! How dare you insult me by trying to apologize?!" Peter howled, unable to contain his rage. "You’re dead, LeBeau, you hear me! You’re so f--king dead!"

Remy just shook his head and walked out at a fast trot, taking his bo staff with him.

Valentin turned to Logan who had watched Remy leave with a strange look of concern on his face. "Is your friend going to give us any more trouble?"

"No."

"See to it that he doesn’t. I’ll reschedule his training class around those who would rather fight than train. He will still be expected to work here, understand?"

"Yeah, I understand," Wolverine grunted, a little surprised by Valentin’s willingness to work around this. He figured Valentin would beat Remy to a pulp and force him to obey. For the first time, Logan was thinking maybe there was more to Valentin than he’d first thought. It wouldn’t be the last.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2495701/1/

 

[Bastila]

nice new part, I like Remy line you wrote - Tsk. You kinda slow dere, fat boy. Too bad you ain’t as fast as yo’ mouth."

Made me laugh, can see him saying it now. lol.
I really like the way you write Remy its great.

 

[squeekness]

Thanks! I worked very hard on it.

 

[squeekness]

(Twelve)

Remy took off through the gloomy tunnels of Clan Station Nine. It occurred to him that some of his discomfort was coming from the fact that these hallways looked an awful lot like the tunnels used by the Morlocks. He ran faster and faster as he was overcome by painful horrible memories.

The Morlocks were a group of mutants that had gone to live in the tunnels under Manhattan. They took their name from H G Wells’ Rulers of the Netherworld. These mutants were the last dregs of mutant kind, deformed and ugly and sometimes too dangerous to live out on the streets without inadvertently hurting people. They were so horrible looking they could never live out in the open without being hunted down and killed by the less forgiving bands of human mutant hunters. The Morlocks hid down in the tunnels, banding together for safety. They lived off of whatever they could scrounge and tried to get by as best they could.

An evil mutant scientist named Sinister had learned of their existence and as a geneticist, found them to be a blight on the face of mutant kind. They simply had to go. To this purpose, he enlisted the aid of a popular thief for hire, one Remy LeBeau.

Remy’s life had never been easy. He was left at the doorstep of Saint Anne’s orphanage only a couple of days after he was born. He stayed at the orphanage until he was eight, living in poverty half in half out of the streets. There were gangs of thugs all about and they were hardly a good influence. At the tender age of eight, he had the brass to try and pick the pocket of Jean Luc LeBeau, head of a local crime family called the Thieves Guild. Jean Luc was amused by the boy with the fiery red eyes and a few weeks later adopted him.

For eight wonderful years, Remy knew bliss. He was well cared for, surrounded in the rich southern heritage of a large and loving family. He suddenly had more cousins than he could count and they all accepted him. Jean Luc trained him in the fine art of thievery and found in Remy a natural talent. He showered Remy with love and the boy knew it and felt it. It all ended two days after his sixteenth birthday.

The Thieves Guild wasn’t always peaceful and a feud broke out. Poor Remy was caught in the middle of it and through no fault of his own, was exiled. He was told his leaving was the only way to ensure peace. He loved Jean Luc dearly and did as he was told.

Once back on the streets, he was alone and all of his old pains came back to haunt him. He wasn’t good enough. He was shunned as a mutant and it chilled him down to his very soul. He was now living with pimps and smorees, drug dealers and addicts and it drained the life right out of him. To survive, he moved from one job to the next, not caring who he was robbing so long as there was a challenge and some kind of payoff in the end. It was around this time that he and Sinister crossed paths for the first time.

Their relationship started out small. He would acquire things for a price and Sinister always paid handsomely in cash. Remy was always suspicious of the strange doctor, but the work was easy and the pay good, so what the bad place? They’d been on good terms for while before that final terrible day and so Remy didn’t turn down the guy’s money when the man came to him with a list.

"Gather these men for me."

Remy took one look at the list and knew something ugly was going to go down for somebody. He recognized Sabretooth’s name immediately, having run into that monster more than once already.

"Sure t’ing, boss," Remy had replied, taking the man’s money and doing as he was asked.

When he showed up with the men, he was supposed to be done. He was just going to walk away and think on this no more. Sinister had other ideas. He asked Remy to take them down to the tunnels and get them past the Morlock defenses. Remy refused. Sinister countered with an offer Remy couldn’t turn down. He had something Remy wanted and needed more than anything. Something that was more valuable than money or any riches he could have offered. Something only he could provide.

Remy swallowed his pride, shut down his emotions, and tried not to think of what he was doing when he found himself agreeing to do as Sinister had asked. At least he’d been smart enough to ask for payment first. Sinister was more than happy to pay what Remy had asked for -- after all, what Remy wanted would cost Sinister nothing.

Later, as Gambit led the men down in the tunnels, these seasoned killers and mercenaries, his heart filled with dread. The men were joking and laughing, calling themselves the Marauders just for the kick of it. Remy tuned them out and tried to convince himself that this was just another job, just another working day. No way was this something legal, but that had never stopped him before. He was just being paranoid. How bad could it be?

Remy was shocked to discover just how bad, bad could be. It never came close to his feeblest imaginings. He used all of his thieving skills to get past the Morlock defenses and opened the main door. The men he’d so thoughtlessly brought down here slid past him and the slaughter of the Morlocks began. Gambit hadn’t known the true purpose of these guys, Sinister had mumbled something about collecting blood samples. The tough men comprising the Marauders were necessary because the Morlocks, though ugly, would put up a vigorous fight.

Gambit stood there in numb horror, bathed in blood both real and imagined, seeing that he’d been totally duped. There were no blood samples being collected today, at least, not in the traditional way. The Morlocks were not strong, most of them were weak betas, cosmetic mutants only, and they fell like wheat to the scythe.

Remy stood there, agape, unable to accept what he’d just allowed to happen. The evil killer Sabertooth was among the men he’d brought and he next turned on the poor stricken thief, slashing his chest and belly open and leaving him to die. Remy managed to gather himself and flee, grabbing a small child as he went. He made it to a hospital, badly wounded and barely alive, wishing he’d died.

When he woke up days later, the child he’d rescued was gone and he was lying in a hospital bed. He had been nearly eviscerated and it had taken over fifty stitches to close his horrible wounds. The only one who’d known he done anything wrong was himself so he buried it deep inside of him. He swallowed it down with most of his emotions in self defense and became even more heartless and cold than he had been before. When he recovered and went back to work, he found himself taking even more risky jobs, losing himself in reckless abandon, not caring if he lived to see another day.

He’d joined the X-men for kicks, loving the adventure of it. Falling in love with Rogue changed all that. For the first time, he began to feel like he might actually be worth something. It also made him feel good inside when he saw all the good things he’d accomplished as an X-man. He was helping people and making a difference in the world that could be seen and felt. It also opened up his heart so those feelings he had buried so deeply and he was tortured by the horrible thing he’d done. He was developing a conscience.

He vowed to make up for what he’d done by working as hard as he could with the X-men. His only fear was that Rogue and the X-men would find out what he’d done. He didn’t know what they would do to him and he wasn’t eager to find out. He knew one thing for sure, Rogue would never forgive him and would hate him forever. She’d seen what went down in the tunnels firsthand when the team at that time had gone down and drove the Marauders off. The horror of the slaughter had never left her.

When Gambit had joined the X-men, he said nothing of his past, hoping only to hide it. It was a useless attempt in a house full of such powerful and intuitive mutants. The fact that he was in love with a girl who had the unique talent of absorbing a person’s memories with a single touch undid him. One kiss. One kiss and it was all over. She knew he was hiding something, but didn’t know what. Only that it was very bad, so horrible that Remy had smashed it so far down in his own mind that she hadn’t been able to see it clearly herself. She hounded him for weeks, trying to get him to confess, but he resisted her.

He employed evasive tactics to protect himself from Rogue’s probing, but those didn’t last. When it finally all came out during that disastrous mission in the Antarctic, Rogue had left him there to die, condemning him on her own just as he’d feared she would. How he’d prayed for death then, had even attempted to accomplish that himself, but it seemed like fate had other plans for him. He was rescued days later and he scraped up a living back on the streets again, not really alive.

He didn’t feel a spark of anything resembling true living until he’d caught a quick glimpse of Rogue while in New York City. It sent a thrill right through him and he knew then his heart had been stolen long ago, before he’d even left. He sucked down his pride and came crawling back to the Professor, spouting apologies and groveling for the first time in his life. He was stunned when it actually worked. He did manage to earn his way back on the team, but he paid for it, oh yes. He was always paying for it with his constantly having to apologize and getting smashed over his head time after time with his guilt. He would never be free of it.

Back in the smoky caves of Clan Station Nine, Remy stopped running when he found a small unused boarding room. He hid himself in the far corner, scrunching up as small as he could. He opened a bottle of Clan whiskey he’d "liberated" on his way here and drank down two large gulps of it, wishing only to get as drunk as possible and pass out. He took the whiskey down and buried his face in his arms, unable to stop the tears of humiliation and shame that came unbidden, now that he was alone and could let his guard down. He cried and cried until he grew tired and fell asleep.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2495701/1/

 

[squeekness]

(Thirteen)

Wolverine crouched on the empty bed, looking down at Gambit dozing drunkenly in the corner. It hadn’t taken him long to track down his wayward teammate, but he wasn’t ready to wake him just yet. He could tell Remy had been crying and could still smell the odor of his distress. Gambit was hurting.

Serves you right, Logan complained silently to his sleeping friend, but he couldn’t stay angry at Remy for long. Lord knows he’d done enough killing in his own time to make him not the proper candidate to pass judgement. He knew Remy’s remorse was real and that Gambit had enough trouble dealing with his own guilt and shame without any more harsh words from him. He’d watched Remy skulking around the Mansion for over a year now, always putting up a brave front to hide how much he loathed himself.

Logan understood that he and Remy were the same. They worked as X-men to make up for the sins of the past. Remy had his Morlock Massacre, Logan had a lifetime of military work and berserker rages. Logan had never pulled a number as deliberately foul as Remy’s misadventure with the Morlocks, but he’d slaughtered a fair number of soldiers on his way out of the military complex where they had crammed all that metal into him without so much as a by your leave. Logan’s personal nightmares made Remy’s fever dream look like a trip to Disneyland.


Logan knew his main role on the X-men’s team was as a protector. He was the big junk yard dog that prowled the yard, keeping watch. He’d done more than his share of killing on missions and protecting the house from mutant invaders with a score to settle. He accepted it as his job and did it whenever it was necessary to spare the others. He took on the burden of guilt because he was suited for it. He swallowed it down with the rest of his emotions, leaving him hard on the outside.

He chuckled softly as he looked down at Remy again. Remy tried really hard to put up the same kind of front with his arrogance and disregard for the rules. Wolverine knew better. Remy was young, not even twenty-five. His crime had been committed as a teenager. His swagger couldn’t hide just how sensitive and emotional he really was. Logan thought it was hilarious actually that Remy thought he could pull off the emotional distancing that he had perfected to an art form. Gambit had been devastated when Rogue left him behind in Antarctica, it had been stamped on his face like a neon sign the first time Logan had seen him after his return. Gambit and Rogue were back together now, but not as closely as before. Logan wasn’t sure why Remy had even bothered, the two of them fought so bitterly sometimes. Maybe Remy figured if he could get the one who’d felt the most betrayed by his lack of trust to forgive him, he would have that absolution he so desperately needed.

"Enough useless wool gatherin’, old man," Logan grumbled softly to himself. "Time ta get this lost son back with the program."

Remy woke when he felt a heavy hand shaking him gently. He looked up with swollen bleary eyes into Wolverine’s face and snorted softly with impatience. He should have known Logan would track him down eventually.

"You all right?" Logan growled, his face betraying his concern.

"Sure t’ing, patron," Remy replied in a dry scratchy voice. He rubbed his eyes and stretched a little. He found the bottle again and drank from it.

Logan didn’t stop him. "Valley says he’s gonna move you around, keep you out of trouble."

"Whatever."

"We gotta get through this, Gumbo. We do this, we go home. Simple as that. We have to work together. I know you can train people, I know you can fight. What I don’t know is if you can keep it together long enough for us to get this job done."

"Not even de Arctic kept dis boy down. Dis place a piece of cake," Remy boasted arrogantly, his swagger a false bravado covering his pain.

Logan’s senses were much too powerful to be fooled by any of Remy’s false pretenses. "You ain’t here all alone. We’re gonna look after you."

Remy sniffed. "Gambit can take of his’self now. Dis is ‘is trouble, ‘is crime, comprenez? He’s de one who ‘as to pay for it. What ‘appens, ‘appens."

"We’re X-men, we stick togther."

"Not for dis. Dis ‘appen before I ever come to be wit you."

"I know. I was there in the tunnels trying to stop it."

Gambit shuddered with the memory of all the blood and carnage and closed his eyes. He was much too drunk to be having this kind of conversation. He buried his face in his arms again and wouldn’t look up. He was still teetering on an emotional edge and didn’t want to Logan to see him cry.

Wolverine put a hand on his shoulder. "We’re gonna look after you whether you want us to or not. Just do us a favor and don’t make us work too hard, all right?"

Gambit raised his head and nodded, wiping at his eyes. He was a little surprised by Wolverine’s gesture of comfort, Logan never touched people, the guy was too closed off. He figured Logan was just trying to get him leveled out so they could get out of this. It was impossible to believe he could ever be forgiven for what he’d done.

"You can start by comin’ back with me," Logan growled, retreating. "I wanna get some sleep an’ I ain’t leavin’ ya out here alone."

Gambit nodded again and rose unsteadily. He was still drunk and his legs were cramped from being folded under him for so long. He stretched again and followed Logan back to their room, keeping quiet. When they got back, he crawled into his bed and covered up, not wanting to look at anyone. Henry said nothing and left him alone. The next day, they didn’t speak of what happened and Remy went back to work.

The first week was brutal for Remy but he made it through. He was constantly harassed by Peter and some of the others. He never left their humble cave quarters without his new bo staff in hand and was in several fights and minor scuffles. He would come home from his new job bruised and cut, but never took as bad as he gave out. Gambit was fast, Gambit was skilled. He’d been trained almost from the first day Jean Luc had adopted him in the art of hand to hand fighting, it was all part of the thievery daily fare. Flexibility and wiry strength were a must when confronted with hard to reach places and tricky entrances. His problem solving skills were just as sharp when it came to a pinch or a fight, especially when it came down to his own personal survival. Remy’s inborn agility and flexibility only made him that much faster and more accurate than his opponents. He was simply too hard to catch up with and when they managed to get in close, he used every ounce of skill to punish them without mercy. It was a decidedly one sided battle.

The losers soon got tired of Remy’s abuse and the fights trailed off after a while and things settled down. True to his word, Gambit had taken care of his own troubles without the others having to step in and help him.
Valentin took a moment to take Wolverine aside and compliment him on his teammate’s strength of spirit. Remy’s ability to keep the alphas at bay so skillfully had made an impression with the hardened warrior, something not easy to do. Valentin had been harboring some doubts about Remy’s usefulness for the upcoming raid, but those concerns had now been laid aside. In a society where the strongest survived, Gambit had managed to hold his own.

Remy got into a routine of teaching classes and kept mostly to himself. As things quieted, his confidence returned and he was more like his old self, even if his eyes were a bit more haunted than they were before. Logan was satisfied with Remy’s effort to get along and left him alone.

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[squeekness]

(Fourteen)

After a week of working and helping to organize the upcoming big raid, Jacob decided his old friend needed a break. He offered to take Logan into one of the small towns in the station for a little rest and relaxation. Jacob asked them all to go, but Henry begged off. He wanted to read one of the books Fallen had given him. Remy wanted to go and Jacob just nodded at him without speaking. He walked them down to one of the few taverns in Station Nine. Even from the outside, they could hear men shouting and fighting. "It's kinda rough," Jacob warned.

Logan grinned. "My kinda place."

They went inside and made their way through the crowd to some tables in the back. They sat down and a tired looking female came and waited on them. She took their order and left, hunched over and passive. "Do all the women suck like this?" Logan complained.

"Mostly." Jacob grinned and gave a conspiratory wink. "If it's a real good time you're looking for, I can hook you up with my buddy Jack. But it will cost you."

Logan was a loner by nature and not one to form lasting relationships. His comforts came in the form of casual sex or the occasional prostitute. He was not above paying for a little fun so long as the women weren't abused or mishandled. He had no tolerance for that kind of abuse and had been known to make pimps disappear if he caught them misusing the girls. It’s not that he hunted them down, but he hung out in rough bars and it was all around him. If he was in the right place at the right time, his sense of honor and protectiveness forced him to act.

"How much?" At the moment, Logan had just been paid and he had thirty credits burning a hole in his pocket. The Clan made coins from metal they had scrounged and had a crude picture of the Honor Sword on it. Counterfeiters were punished by death so the credits kept their value. The alphas were paid once a week.

"At least ten for the usual. But I tell ya, if you want to go for broke, he's got a Siskan you can have for fifteen."

Logan’s interest perked up at that. "A Siskan?"

"Yeah. He got one of the pleasure programs illegally. It's better than a real woman, I kid you not. Worth every penny. She'll give you the full treatment and then some. This Siskan is for alphas only. It's our best kept secret so don't spread it around."

"Sounds good ta me."

"Wait here." Jacob got up and left to make the arrangements.

"What you doin', patron?" Remy asked, shaking his head with mock disapproval.

Logan grinned. "Research."

"Research?"

"Yeah. I wanna see what all the fuss is about with these Siskans. I wanna know if that's what Fallen's got."

"I t’ink we both know dat's what she's got, mon ami."

"Well, I wanna know for sure."

"De Lucky Dragon's far away from 'ere. Ain't got not’ing ta do wit us."

Logan ignored him as Jacob returned. "You coming?" he asked Remy.

"Non. Gambit wait 'ere for you." He had seen a card game starting up in the back and was thrilled at the idea of some real entertainment. He got up and made his way over.

Jacob led Logan from the tavern to a small private cave not too far away. He was met at the door by his friend, Jack. There was a small discussion and Jacob asked for Logan's money. He paid the man and they went inside. The home was sparsely furnished with mats and furs, a small wooden table that had been constructed of wooden crates was the only piece of real furniture. Logan was taken to a separate room while Jacob waited.

The leather skin divider was pulled back and Logan went into the room. This room was almost lavish in its decorations. Of course, this was where the money was made. A pallet bed covered in soft furs was on the floor to one side and the walls had dark red tapestries depicting sexual acts in a beautiful and tasteful manner. A large inviting stone bath filled with steaming scented water was in the middle of the room, filling the air with the scent of flower petals. Logan shivered in anticipation, that one thing alone was worth the fifteen credits.

Standing next to the bath was one of the most beautiful women Logan had ever seen. She had long dark hair in an impressive drape down one shoulder and was dressed in a shimmering red silken kimono. Logan grinned, Jacob knew of the X-man’s preference for Oriental women and must have passed it on. Although this lovely lady was not Oriental herself, she had done her best to please. It was good enough for him.

She seemed to sense this somehow and smiled at him demurely. "I am Lanlin. I will be serving you today." She gestured to the bath. "Please."

He approached and paused as she came forward to undress him. He smiled and sniffed at her when she came close, using his feral abilities to give her a more thorough inspection. Like Seth, she had no scent, he could smell her perfume, nothing more. On top of that, he was aware that she was extraordinarily quiet – she had no heartbeat. Only someone with his level of hearing would notice that. It didn’t mean she wasn’t warm, he could sense and feel her heat as she moved in the room. It was kind of creepy considering she wasn’t truly alive.

Logan had nothing to fear from this unique and beautiful creature. Lanlin was gentle and careful as she removed his clothing and laid it aside. She eased him into the bath, making sure he was comfortable. He gestured for her to join him and she opened her kimono, revealing herself to him with a small smile. She was perfect in every way a woman could be for him. She was lean, but not scrawny and had nice firm breasts. The kimono shimmered as it left her body and disappeared, making Logan grunt in surprise. It had never been real.

She climbed in the bath, sliding in behind him and placing her silky legs around his waist. He groaned with pleasure as she washed him and massaged his back and shoulders with nimble and skilled fingers, knowing just where and how hard to squeeze. It had been a long time since he'd been spoiled like this. She chatted about nothing in a soothing gentle voice as she worked her hands over him. Now Logan could see why Fallen wanted Seth so badly. Lanlin was thoughtful, skilled and compliant.
She soaped up his hair and scrubbed his head, making all the itchies from the headlice disappear. He closed his eyes and moaned in happiness, unable to keep quiet about just how much he was enjoying this. He heard her laugh softly and he teased, "I suppose ya get this all the time, huh, darlin’?"

"Not really, no. Most of the men, they skip the bath and get right to the love."

"The love, huh?"

She took him from the bath to the bed and that's where the real magic was. She's not real, he kept telling himself, but it was hard to believe. Her body was warm and felt completely real to him, inside and out, even when he had gotten down to actually making love to her. He could feel the tiny hairs of her skin and the muscles and bones of her body as she moved around him. She reacted to his touch no differently than any other woman he’d been with and she shivered and responded to his hands moving over her as though to be touched by him was to be blessed by a god. She was certainly more than eager to serve him and seemed overjoyed to have his company, making him feel like royalty.

A slight sheen of sweat formed on her back as she worked him and her breath was real and fine in his ears. She shivered and shook in a perfect imitation of woman in climax and he began to wonder if he’d been lied to. Was she a real person? An alpha perhaps that could mask her scent somehow and silence her heartbeat? He’d seen weirder things in his travels. She kissed him passionately as though she'd known him all her life and showed no fear of him at all. That was a rare thing for him and pleased him most of all. She made him miss home, though. There was nothing as soft and kind as she was here in this horrible Clan Station.

When she was through with him, she massaged him again and whispered in his ear that strange musical language he'd heard before on the Lucky Dragon. He hadn't felt this good, this wonderful and tingly all over in a long time. He wanted to explore her, silently demanding that she reveal to him the truth, that she wasn’t real. He pulled her head back and looked deeply in her eyes. He almost wished he hadn't. This close, with all of his hyper senses, he could now see she wasn't real, not truly alive. There was a sort of deadness to her eyes that disappointed him. The only thing it did for him was take away any guilt he may have had for using her like this. If she wasn't alive, she wasn't truly a smoree being used against her will.

Remy grinned as he watched Logan come back into the bar. Logan couldn't hide his good spirits and contentment. His skin was glowing from a good wash and he smelled of soap and girlie things. He sat down across from Remy and just smiled away, saying nothing.

Remy snorted. "Dat good, huh?"

"You have no idea." He eyed the bag of credits Remy had out on the table. Remy had done very well at cards while he was waiting for Logan to return. "You should put that bag a credits ta good use, boy. Those ain't gonna be worth nuthin' back home."

"Merci, but non. Gambit 'ad enough fun for one day. ‘E’s ready for bed."

Logan got up with him and they made their way back to alpha quarters. Henry greeted them from his bed as they entered. He noted Logan's fine condition. "I see the two of you had fun."

"You should come wit us next time," Remy offered.

Henry raised his book. "I've got all I need right here."

Logan cocked his head with a sly grin. "I had a bath."

"Congratulations."

Remy eased himself down onto his bed and stretched. "Dat's not all he got. Jacob knows somebody who 'as a Siskan."

Henry was immediately interested. "Really? How was it?"

Logan's grin got wider.

"Hmm? Interesting."

"Maybe you should find out for yourself, Blue. The bath alone was worth the fifteen credits."

"Fifteen credits? Good Lord! That's highway robbery! Most of the regular men only get paid five credits a week." He shook his head. "Well, how did to compare to Seth and Kimble?"

"This was much better. Hard ta tell it wasn't real."

"But it was the same? Fallen does have a Siskan pleasure program?"

"I think so, yeah."

"And it was damaged," Henry said to himself. "If she does indeed possess the one that killed those men, she could be in danger."

"She must know what she’s got," Gambit replied impatiently.

"I'm not so sure."

"Anyways, what does dis 'ave to do wit us? We ain't gonna see dem again."

"Au contraire, my Cajun friend. The good word is that we've been assigned to the Lucky Dragon as part of Valentin's squad on the big raid. I'm convinced now more than ever that Fallen is our best bet for getting out of here."

"You ever talk to 'er about it?"

"No, but I would very much like to."

"Why would she take us home?"

"To get away from Valentin."

"What if she don' wanna leave?" Logan prompted.

"I'll offer her a job. I'm sure someone of her various talents would prove useful to us."

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[squeekness]

(Fifteen)

Henry sat as his work station working on some of the detonators for the upcoming raid. It bothered him that his skills were being put to use constructing devices that’s only purpose was to kill people, but he agreed with Cerebus that the Dognan had to be stopped. They were getting out of hand, going to Earth and teleporting people out to be used as slaves. Any means to put that to an end was worth it.

Henry paused as his stomach growled loudly. "My pointed ears for a Twinkie," he sighed. The food here was simply unbearable and Fallen’s care package had been used up long ago. He’d finally broken down and was living off of bread and water as Gambit was. Neither one could bring themselves to touch anything more and they were both looking a little ragged and thin.

Wolverine was in his element and getting along nicely, but Henry was concerned about Remy. He was moody and quiet, keeping mostly to himself. He didn’t go back out with Jacob as Wolverine had done. Wolverine had grown quite enamored with the Siskan hologram and had gone back a couple more times already.

Henry was fond of Rogue and didn’t wish her heart any harm, but Henry would have been at least a little relieved if Remy had visited Lanlin as well. Anything to raise his spirits. Henry would see Gambit sitting alone at the cafeteria table way in the back, smoking and staring off into space as he absently rubbed a thumb along the scars on his chest. He’d made no friends here, Peter had seen to that, but Remy was a loner by nature when he was at the house. He didn’t socialize with the X-men except for Rogue. Remy was secretive and absent most of the time so Henry didn’t know him as well as he did other X-men. The X-men team was quite large, having up to twenty and thirty members moving in and out on various assignments all over the world and it was impossible for Beast to know them all well.

Henry had been on the mission to Antarctica where Remy had been left behind. He had watched in abject horror as the details of Remy’s horrific crime had been dealt out and how it shattered the team. Their opponent apparently knew Remy better than they did and was more than happy to humiliate the poor thief in front of everybody. It had the desired effect. Oh, how well they had been played, Henry thought as he looked back on it. The team was shocked and horrified by the traitor in their midst and they completely fell apart, bickering and arguing so much over the distraction provided, that the bad guy got away and poor Remy was abandoned to freeze to death. They went back for him eventually, but no trace of him was ever found. It came as a total surprise when a year later he showed up in New York City, quite thin, a little haunted, but none the worse for wear. He stayed nearby, making his presence known, and was eventually gradually reinstated as an X-man. Even so, it was never the same after that, not even when Rogue took him back. Henry knew that Remy took these big risky jobs as an attempt at absolution for his past crimes.

"So why are you here, Henry old boy? Hmm?" Henry asked himself, rubbing his eyes. "Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time."
He’d been very surprised when the Professor had asked him to go along with Wolverine and Gambit, two of the less predictable and most unstable members of the team. Henry worked mainly in the lab and didn’t get asked to go out on missions as often. That was just fine with him. He preferred to help out the team by more scientific and passive means.

"I’m a bit shorthanded," the Professor had replied wearily. "These disappearances must be stopped. They worry me in that we still have no idea who’s behind them. So many young lives simply gone. We’ve lost a few good mutants, too. We must find out what’s going on and stop it."

How could Henry refuse such an impassioned plea for help? He certainly never expected to end up here.

His thoughts were interrupted as Zekian approached him and handed him a note without speaking. Henry read it and was surprised to see it had come from Fallen. It was an invitation for him to come to the Lucky Dragon. She had found something that would be of interest to him. She also promised him a good meal and a hot shower. Henry didn’t need to be asked twice. Without hesitation, he packed up his work for the moment and made his way down to the hanger bay.

Maylee was waiting for him on the ramp and greeted him warmly. She had just returned from class herself and had some books and papers in her arms. She brought Henry inside and made him comfortable. The first order of business was the hot shower as promised, for which Henry was very grateful. He was even more pleased when he was provided with special soaps that would kill the lice that now infested him head to foot. The relief was immediate and heavenly. Maylee brought him next to the galley and fed him, laughing gaily when he gorged himself. He had no idea when his next good meal would come and wasn’t about to refuse anything offered, especially since it was all so fresh and well prepared. Maylee gave him a large cup of tea when he was finished and sent him down to the shop to see Fallen.

Henry made his way down the trap door steps and to the shop. He was a startled to see a white skinned, dark haired stranger standing at ease at the work bench to the back. It took him a moment to realize he was looking at a male pilot and that it was actually Kimble. Kimble was out in the hologram and writing something down on long sheets of blue prints that were coming out of a large printer that Henry hadn’t seen before. Henry was a little shocked. Paper was very scarce here and he had no idea where Fallen acquired it.

Kimble was slouching comfortably as he worked, rubbing his wings together thoughtlessly while he leaned over the papers. Soft rock and roll music was playing and Kimble had one pawed foot tapping in perfect rhythm to the music. He was smoking absently, squinting slightly from the smoke. The cigarette was real, Henry could smell the smoke and wondered why if Kimble wasn’t real, he should even have the desire to smoke at all. Kimble held the hand rolled cigarette between two slender white fingers and flicked the ash without even thinking. He didn’t seem to have any of Seth’s fine motor skill problems and was at ease being out in the hologram.

The hologram program Fallen was using allowed for the differences between Seth and Kimble. Kimble stood tall and confident, flexing his large arm muscles as he scribbled quickly on the papers. He had a much heavier build than his brother and the dark coloring of his hair and sideburns contrasted sharply with the sparkling whiteness of his skin. The side burns made him look much older than Seth had appeared, more mature. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and Henry could see the Honor Sword mark blazing brightly down his chest. He had a pilot’s body and wings, and wore a pair of tight fitting black denim jeans. His furry toes were bare and Henry could see the tips of his toe claws. Kimble had untied his pony tail and his hair fell long and thick about his head and shoulders, reaching down to his waist.

A lock of hair fell down over his eyes and Kimble tucked it behind his ear in a slow and graceful movement, smiling slightly as if he’d enjoyed the stroke of his own fingers against his skin. He caught Henry’s approach out of the corner of his eye and his smile slowly grew wider. He stood up straight and turned unhurriedly to face his guest, drawing out the moment before offering his hand. "Good morrow, Dr. McCoy," he purred, his voice soft and low.

"Good morrow," Henry replied, taking Kimble’s outstretched hand and shaking it.

Kimble’s skin was warm and his fingers slightly damp from holding the pen he’d been using. The illusion was very good, Henry couldn’t tell Kimble was anything less than real.

Kimble took his hand back slowly, drawing his fingertips across Henry’s palm as if he was examining the doctor by touch as much as he’d been looked over by Henry himself, a mutual admiration. He leaned back against the workbench, resting his hands on either side of his body. He cocked his head slightly with a sly grin and flexed his abdominal muscles as he took a deep breath. He let his eyes roam freely over his visitor, rudely staring at him without speaking as he looked him over. His eyes glittered with bright intelligence and he sniffed at Henry slightly, something Henry had seen Logan do when he was trying to figure someone out. The lock of hair came loose again and once more Kimble stroked it back, shivering slightly as if aroused from his own touch and the presence of his guest so very close.

If I didn’t know any better --- and I don’t --- I’d say this creature is flirting with me, Henry thought to himself. Fallen isn’t here so Kimble is acting on his own. Fascinating. "Well, this is a surprise," Henry said, breaking the momentary silence.

"A pleasant one, I’m hopin’," Kimble said in his lazy drawl. He gave Henry another one of his teasing, playful smiles. "You enjoyin’ yer stay at Nine?"

Henry grunted a laugh. "Not really. The conditions are quite primitive."
"Maylee took care of ya some, yer lookin’ pretty fine from here," Kimble commented flirtatiously, looking Henry over again and licking his lips like he was something good to eat. It was true, Henry’s fur was clean and brushed, the best he’d looked and felt for some time.

Henry squirmed a little, pinned down by Kimble’s almost predatory stare. He’d never been looked at quite that way by a man before.

"Give it up, Kimble. He wouldn’t be interested," Fallen said impatiently, coming out of the downstairs lavatory and into the shop.

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[squeekness]

"Good morrow, Fallen," Henry said, relieved by her timely appearance.

She walked up to him and shook his hand. "Good morrow. Don’t mind Kimble. He does that to shock people. He thinks it’s amusing. He doesn’t get out much and isn’t properly socialized."

Fallen had plenty of time to recover from her savage beating and in spite of a few fading bruises on her back, looked in good shape. Her smile was bright and warm and cheered Henry’s heart. He had been worried about her.

"Your Kimble here is quite impressive. Very realistic for an artificial personality."

Henry saw a look of dark anger cross Kimble’s face and was startled to hear the man actually growl at him. It was low and deep, reminding him of Logan’s own gravelly built in warning system. He realized he’d just made a mistake. Kimble was clearly offended at the suggestion that he was anything less than real.

Fallen gave Kimble a kick and he quieted, putting his head down submissively. He rubbed his wings together with aggressive impatience and pouted a little.

Henry bowed slightly at him. "Pardon me, I meant no offense. I am unused to the idea of a sentient hologram. The ones we have back home are not like you in this way."

" ‘S all right," Kimble said, clearly lying. He was still offended. " ‘S a common mistake."

Fallen barked at him in another language and Kimble turned away and went back to the papers.

"You did nothing wrong," she said to Henry, ignoring Kimble as he sulked. "He’s a child and hopelessly immature, nothing more. Forget it. I asked you here because Seth found some papers that may be of some help for you. These seem to be the blueprints for the Dognan complex Valentin is planning to attack."

Henry was immediately interested. "How did you come by these?"

"We found a crashed Dognan ship yesterday. I took the computer out and Seth was able to hack into it. He found these files. Maybe if you guys look them over, you can find a good way to get inside."

"I already done it," Kimble boasted, looking up at her with a grin.

"Really?" Henry asked, coming closer to look at the papers. He hoped that if he gave Kimble a good listen, he would see he was sorry he had inadvertently insulted him. He was surprised by his own feelings towards Kimble, he simply couldn’t help himself from regarding Kimble as anything but a real person. He behaved so lifelike, even if he was a bit childish and sensitive.

When Henry looked down at the papers, he was surprised at what he saw. The blueprints did look authentic and were very detailed. Kimble had been writing notes in the margins. His writing was very beautiful, he used a font Henry was unfamiliar with but it could be read easily even though it was decorative and carefully made. Kimble had made notations on most of the exits and entrances, but what was most noteworthy was a small commentary on the nuclear core reactor in the center of the base. Kimble had speculated that causing the reactor to overload and explode would destroy a good portion of the base with minimal manpower --- if they could get to it. Henry chuckled softly. How convenient that they had just the slippery little thief to do just that.

"I’m impressed," Henry commented. "You do very good work."

Kimble smiled, absorbing the praise with pleasure. His earlier anger was completely gone. "I do all right," he said with false modesty. He reached for a bottle of beer nearby and drank from it.

"Don’t encourage him. He’ll be unbearable," Fallen teased, giving Kimble a playful bump with her shoulder.

Kimble garbled something at her and she replied in kind.

"May I ask what is that language you’re speaking? It’s very beautiful."

"It’s Siskan," Fallen replied. "Kimble is a Siskan personality."

"That’s interesting. Logan said the alphas have obtained a Siskan pleasure program. Logan spent some time with this...program. He said it was very....gratifying."

Kimble grinned. "I’m shure it wuz. Lanlin’s no slouch, but I kin assures ya, I’m much better."

Henry wasn’t put off again by Kimble’s suggestion. He was becoming used to Kimble’s flirtatious arrogance and could see that it was just a playful part of his personality, not that he would actually do any harm. He was impressed that Kimble knew about Lanlin, though. He’d thought it was a secret held by the alphas. It boosted his curiosity. "Why would a Siskan pleasure program such as yourself be content running a ship, I wonder?" Henry directed at him. "Seems to me your talents might be misplaced."

Kimble grinned mischievously. "I gots lotsa talents fer lotsa things. Wants ta find out?"

"That’s enough!" Fallen interjected, exasperated by her spirited Kimble. She looked up at Henry and explained. "Kimble was damaged. He can’t do everything he used to."

"It don’ stop me from tryin’!" Kimble interrupted with a laugh.

"Even this hologram doesn’t work right," Fallen continued, ignoring him.

"It’s not finished. Only half the codes are working. There’s a missing access code. Once I find that, the ‘gram will be restored."

Kimble grunted. "Yeah, when Fallen’s done with it, you kin haves Logan come see me fer a comparison. Or come by yerself, if ya have a mind. I ain’t never had nobody with blue fur b’fore. Could be interestin’," Kimble offered, not giving an inch.

"Oh, you are impossible!" Fallen said, giving him a playful shove. "Don’t you have something better to do?"

"Not really," Kimble replied with a laugh, still enjoying the game.

"Yes, you do," Seth said, popping up on the viewing screen nearby. He was seated at his work station, neat and tidy as always. He was smiling, amused by Kimble’s fooling around. "The diagnostics I set up for Engine Two are ready. Time to do that scan and crunch the numbers."

"Later."

"Now, Kimble," Fallen ordered sharply.

"Aye, Fallen," Kimble replied, his disappointment obvious.

Kimble stood up straight and crossed his arms. He bowed his head and Henry was startled to see Kimble’s outer shape melt and turn grey as he left the hologram and returned to the system. The hologram material remained behind, converting itself into a cube. It settled to the floor and waited, ready to be used again.

"Fascinating," Henry repeated, awed by what he’d seen today. "He’s quite the character."

"He’s a blast and I enjoy having him around very much," Fallen said as she gathered up the papers for Henry to take back with him. "Just do me a favor and don’t tell anyone about the hologram. My Siskans are very precious to me."

"Your secret is safe with me," Henry said, thanking her for the papers. He wondered if he should tell her what he heard about a Siskan hologram going on a murderous rampage in the Station but decided it would be best to wait. Other than being rambunctiously playful, Kimble seemed harmless enough.


Henry returned to their quarters, refreshed and happy. At first the others complained because they got left out, but Henry didn’t come back empty handed. Fallen had given him a generous supply of lice soap and another care package of fresh bread and fruit. Logan bowed out to let the others enjoy. He could at least tolerate the Clan food and had been eating pretty well all along. Henry and Gambit didn’t argue but dug in cheerfully.

As he ate well for the second time that day, Henry told them about his strange encounter with Kimble. Gambit chuckled when Henry explained how flirtatious Kimble had been. "P’etetre, you should’ave taken ‘im up on it. You could ‘ave given us a full report, seen ‘ow your research measured up to Logan’s."

"Kinda tough to do that. At least mine was a girl," Logan said with a laugh.

"Well, he seemed harmless enough anyway. He had a lot of ideas that I think might be useful to us and his advice is definitely worth looking into."

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2495701/1/

 

[Kazaire]

Squeekness has been busy!

 

[squeekness]

Yes. Thank you. it's been awhile since anyone else has responded. I am glad you still like it.

 

[squeekness]

(Sixteen)

Henry sat at his desk once more, trying to digest the Dognan blue prints Fallen had given him. There was a lot of work to be done and he wished he had some help. As if in answer to his silent plea, there was a soft knock on his table. He looked up to see a Clansman he didn’t recognize. "Good morrow, alpha. My name is Bruce. Valentin sent me to give you a hand."

"Good morrow. I’m Henry and I am so very grateful you’re here. This will take some time to work out," Henry said with a warm smile and offered his hand.

Bruce took it and gave a firm shake. He was a sturdy Clansman, in his mid-thirties and in good physical condition, though not as heavily muscled as most of the other Clan warriors. He had the tattoos and markings of medium rank and was quite intelligent. Henry learned that Bruce was in charge of most of the reconnaissance work and raid planning for Valentin. He had long rusty blonde hair tied back in the usual ponytail and green eyes that kept straying to Henry’s big blue face though he tried to hide it. He had been a Clansman all his life and had never seen an alpha such as Henry with his blue fur and huge size.

Henry and Bruce got along immediately, laughing and teaching one another as they worked, and got a lot done. Bruce was talkative and bright as they worked, freely sharing many stories of growing up in an area not far from here called Pastor’s Lake. He had an easy, friendly manner that wasn’t much like the others here who seemed to function on the idea that posturing and bravado was the means by which a real man was measured. Henry did not share that view. It was pleasant beyond words to spend time like this, in the company of a relaxed and open person. Bruce was quick to laugh and a real treat to be with. The time fly by.

Bruce was very well educated and seemed able to interpret the plans that Fallen had provided well. They worked for several hours, accomplishing quite a bit, when there came a soft knock on the table again.

Bruce turned to face his visitor with a warm smile. "Good morrow, Justin."

"Good morrow, Bruce," Justin greeted with a short laugh. Justin was a contrast to Bruce, being a medium sized Clansman, well built and heavily muscled. Clearly, he was more of a warrior than Bruce who was smaller and seemed weaker by comparison. Justin’s hair was long and black, loose about his shoulders and not as long as everyone else’s. He carried both a broadsword and a large bow on his back. His eyes glittered with intelligence and amusement as he looked at Henry. "Who’s your friend?" he asked Bruce, apparently had no qualms about showing his interest in the big blue mutant.

"This is Henry."

"Good morrow, Henry McCoy. I’ve heard all about you," Justin said, offering his hand.

Henry shook it. "All good, I hope."

Justin laughed again. "Fear not. The grapevine says you and Bruce here are going to save us all."

"Well, that’s a hard reputation to live up to, but I’ll try my best."

"I’m sure you will." Justin patted Bruce on the shoulder. "I’ll be down in the galley if you want to eat with me. They’ll be serving in an hour."

"I’ll be there."

Justin nodded at him and withdrew, his eyes lingering on Bruce’s face before he left. Bruce noticed Henry watching them and turned away shyly, his face flushing just slightly.

In that one gesture alone Henry knew these two were much more than just friends. Nothing had to be said, Beast was simply too observant to need them. All such well trained X-men were capable of assessing a person quickly like that, it was all part of survival training. Logan would argue that it was a matter of threat assessment, but Henry wasn’t like that. He maintained a neutral ground when it came to race or gender or, more importantly, sexual orientation. He was aware that not many men were so accepting of that one difference and went out of his way to show that he wasn’t one of them.

"You two known each other long?" Beast asked just to make conversation, keeping his voice neutral and light.

"We grew up together. The Clan is actually many Clans all gathered from different areas nearby here. We’re both from the Deer Clan just like Valentin. We all grew up not far from here by Pastor’s lake, that place I was telling you about earlier. When the Dognan war really started gearing up, Valentin convinced a lot of young men to join up with him. Justin convinced our parents to let us come here with him and join the fight."

Henry nodded, but he’d caught something in Bruce’s tone. "Doesn’t sound like to me like it was your decision.

Bruce thought carefully before he spoke. "Justin wanted to fight. I didn’t want to leave him behind. We’ve been close friends for a long time." He looked up at Henry warily, waiting for judgement. He knew Henry had caught on to him and Justin alarmingly fast, but Beast just smiled at him warmly.

"I understand, my friend. These things are never easy. It seems as though it worked out all right for you. You have a good position here."

Bruce relaxed noticeably. "It’s all right. All this technical knowledge is dry and more than a little boring, but it keeps me off the field. I’ll be the first to admit I’ve never been much of a fighter, not like Justin there. He lives for the fight. He spends all of his free time practicing how to do it all better. I can’t help but wonder what he’ll do when the war is over, if we pull this off, I mean."

"I’m sure things will work out for you guys," Beast said, ever the optimist. He leaned back and stretched, cracking his neck and shoulders. "Why don’t you go along and join him. We can pick this up tomorrow. I’m in need of some rest myself."

"Why don’t you join us?"

Clan food. Henry couldn’t stop the shudder of revulsion that made him shiver. "My apologies, but your Clan food doesn’t quite agree with me."
Bruce just smiled. "I know what you mean. It took some time for me to get used to it myself. Pastor’s Lake was the best for hunting, but it’s been so long now I hardly remember what decent food tastes like. I’ve lost a lot of weight since I’ve lived here."

"No offense, but I hope I’m not here that long," Henry joked and steered Bruce towards the door. I’ll see you tomorrow."


"None taken. Later," Bruce said and left quickly, going the way Justin had gone.

To read more click here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2495701/1/

 

[squeekness]

The time passed quickly for the X-men as they and the Clan prepared for the final assault on the Dognan. Valentin kept a close watch on the alpha troops and was always around, making sure all was going well. He was in charge of the big raid and had full rights to use as many of the alphas and best trained Clan troops as he wished. He worked closely with Beast and Wolverine as they laid out their ideas and moved his people around to suit them, actions that only caused Wolverine's opinion of him to grow. He treated both Henry and Logan with respect and listened to what they had to say.

Valentin behaved very differently here in the Station than he had out in the field when the X-men first met him. He was obviously in charge, but didn't harass or abuse his men. Quite the opposite actually. He worked closely with them in the training and practiced just as hard as they did. His skill in weaponry was clear as well as the hard work he'd gone through to obtain it. There were no ugly episodes, not like how Valentin had behaved with Kane or his people. It was if that man didn't exist here, like Valentin suffered from some kind of split personality. If Logan hadn't seen him abuse Fallen so badly, his respect for Valentin would have come much more easily. As it was, Logan found himself liking Valentin very much against his better judgment.

Valentin was watchful of Gambit, but they hardly spoke. Valentin insisted that Remy come along with them out in the field, having watched his fighting skills with admiration. Logan knew it wasn't really Remy's thing, being that Gambit was more of a sneaky infiltrator than a hardened soldier, but it would allow them to stay together where Logan could keep an eye on his Cajun teammate.

Gambit continued to work with the alphas, brushing them up on their hand to hand skills, while also showing them some of his tricks from his days as a thief. There weren't many places he couldn't get into. He didn't share Logan's respect for Valentin, but Gambit had never seen real combat. He didn't realize as Logan did that Valentin was the kind of man who could get the job done in situations where most men would fall apart. Remy avoided Valentin as much as possible and concentrated on his work. He tried to keep his mind on his objective which was to get home in one piece and get back to his girl.

Logan worked with a small crew of alphas, teaching them how make plastique and other small bombs from the materials the Clan had stolen from the Dognan. As promised, they learned quickly and soon they had a good supply of explosives primed and ready for use.

Henry was used more for the planning stages of things and organizing, but he and Bruce also helped out with helping the clan to salvage what they could from whatever tidbits of technology Fallen managed to steal form the Dognan. It was quite a bit. There were two way radios and tracking devices, armor and weapons to compliment Wolverine's collection of explosives.

When the last plans were finalized, Logan came by to see Henry to learn what he and Bruce had come up with. They made good use of the blue prints Fallen had provided and came up with a strategy. The plan was to assault the Dognan stronghold in the three stages. First they would hit the main munitions and supply dump on the outside of the complex, near the ruined city. This would take out the steam out of the Dognan defense and hopefully make the next stages easier and less dangerous.

Next, they would blow up the living quarters where most of the Dognan soldiers were stationed. The Dognan wouldn't be able to fight if most of them were dead.

Then they would go for the main complex itself. This was more difficult because they would actually have to get inside. At first, Logan said this was impossible, but changed his mind when Henry showed him the scrolled blue prints of the complex. There were small marks and comments on the margins. Logan looked at the marks on the corners and turned to Henry, "Who's mark is that?"

Henry grinned. "Seth's. He organized the documents after he hacked them off of a Dognan computer. He's quite sneaky and clever, you know. Some of the remarks came from Kimble. What marvelous handwriting he has. He makes good use of the hologram, as I had told you. It was his suggestion that we hit the main reactor in the center. He was able to determine that destroying that would cause an explosion big enough to bring the whole building down."

"How're we gonna get those charges in there? Looks complicated."

"Easy. We'll have our Cajun friend sneak in through the ventilation shafts and plant the charges while the rest of you create a diversion outside. Shouldn't be too difficult."

"How we gonna get outta there on time?"

"Jacob and Reese. We 'port in and use what few pilots we have to move you guys around as we need to. All you have to do is make enough fuss for Remy to get the job done and then get out as fast as you can. It's so simple it has to work."

"Have you talked to Gambit yet?"

"I'll tell him after supper. I can't see how it would be a problem."

 

[squeekness]

(Seventeen)

"You want Gambit to do what?!"

Henry backed up a bit, surprised by the heat of Remy's reaction. The thief was outraged, barely in control of his temper. His red eyes blazed and his hands clenched and unclenched in fury. Beast and Logan, along with Valentin, had approached the fiery eyed mutant with their proposal on how to destroy the Dognan base. Henry had figured Gambit would be all over it, enjoying any kind of challenge, and was not prepared for this little snag in their plans.

"All ya gotta do is sneak in, plant the charges and get out," Wolverine repeated, not understanding what the big deal was.

"Gambit, he a t'ief. He ain't no killer, not no more. Dat place'll be loaded with dose cat guys!"

"Sometime's there's a killin' that needs to be done."

"Bull****! Dat's a load of f--kin' crap an' you know it!"

"If you won't do it, all you have to do is bring someone in who will," Valentin said evenly. He was exasperated at how sensitive alphas could be. They never seemed to understand war and how these things must be done. Sacrifices had to be made.

Gambit's face turned colors Henry had never seen before. Valentin had made a serious error.

Gambit bellowed ragged Cajun curses in his fury and then the room exploded in red flame and dust. They barely had time to duck under the heavy table. Remy had charged over a dozen cards and flung them at them. The cards exploded loudly, causing chunks of rock and debris to go flying from the walls and ceiling. When the dust settled, Remy was gone.
"Well, that went smoothly," Wolverine quipped, dusting himself off. He had to hide the sly smile that was threatening to leak out. It had been in ragged French, but there had been a certain satisfaction in hearing Gambit tell Valentin to go screw himself.

It was true Valentin didn't get it, though Remy's anger was easy enough to read. He complained in exasperation, "What's going on? I thought you said he would help us!"

Henry sighed and gave Valentin a brief run down of Gambit's history, the Morlock Massacre in particular. Valentin's brow creased with frustration.
"This isn't the same thing!"

"To him it is."

"I'll go talk to him," Logan offered and left.

He followed Remy's trail easily, all he had to do was follow the smell of frustration and anger, Remy was really pissed. Logan sighed with impatience. They should have guessed that Remy would have a problem with this scenario, it just didn't occur to them until it was too late. Remy had gone quite far before he ran out of steam and slowed down. He had traveled as far as the outer hanger bays, sneaking past the guards. Logan found him on the edge of a carved, stone ventilation shaft for the hanger, his legs dangling and his head down.

Wolverine sat next to his teammate without saying anything. He knew Remy would speak when he was ready.

Gambit sniffed and took a deep breath. His eyes were shiny with angry tears that he didn't bother to hide. "You done kicked me out for bein' a killer! You left Gambit behind to die for doin' dis very t'ing! How dare you ask dis of me!?"

"I wouldnt've left ya behind fer that," Wolverine said quietly. He hadn't been there when the mission went down and couldn't honestly answer what he would have done. The bad decision had been made in the heat of anger, poor Remy paying the price.

"Non. Non. You would ‘ave killed me instead!" Remy snapped.

Logan put his head down and sighed. "I don' kill fer no stupid reasons, kid."

Gambit snorted. "Neither do I."

"You gonna tell me why you let Sinister talk ya into doin' what ya did? You ain't never said."

Gambit slowly shook his head. "It wasn't for nuthin' stupid. Wasn't for money or nuthin' like dat. ‘Sides, I didn' know nobody was gonna get killed or I never would've done it."

"Then why?"

Gambit didn't reply.

Logan sighed again. "Look, kid. Doin' this thing isn't like what you did before. This is war. Out here, only the strongest survive. If you don't do this for us, we'll have to go in full throttle and a lotta folks're gonna die. You can do this quiet. You can do this sneaky." Logan waited but Gambit still said nothing. He was listening, though. "Think of this. We don't owe those Dognan creeps nuthin'. How many of our own people did they kill when we were stuck in that holdin' cell, huh? What about the pens? What about all them slaves they keep makin'? We gotta take these sleazebags out. If we don't, they're just going to keep comin'."

"I can't."

"Then take a team in like Valentin said. Just one or two guys, that's all."
Gambit looked up, his face strained from trying to keep those traitorous tears from falling. "Gambit's got a bill too big already to ever pay back. He can't make up for dis one too."

"You don't have to. Lives saved fer the lives lost."

Remy shivered as he heard Wolverine speak those words. Logan must have heard him muttering those words to himself many times out on the road.

"Do this, Remy. It's the right thing ta do. Remember, there ain't honor in a killin' if ya do it fer hate or cuz ya wanna hurt somebody. This isn't about that. This is about survival. It ain't bad if ya don't love it." Logan rubbed his hands together slowly. "I know you don't believe this, but you've more than made up for what you've done. Three hundred Morlocks dead but six million people saved during that Genosha thing we did five months ago. You're square, Remy. You been square fer a long time now."

"I didn't do Genosha alone. De whole team was in on it."

"Doesn't matter, but if it does to you, than do this. Do this and be square."

Remy put his head down and slowly nodded. Logan patted him on the shoulder and left him, figuring Remy would want to be alone.

Gambit sat on the stoop and looked out over the grey sky of Cerise. He was strong in his heart and in his will, and it had done him some good to hear Wolverine speak so well of him. He was lonely, he was tired and very, very homesick, but he would do what was asked of him.

Jus' gotta get t'rough dis one t'ing, he whispered to his heart, Jus' dis one t'ing, an' it just a little, little t'ing like all de other little t'ings you done. We do dis, den we go ‘ome. It's gotta be, it jus' gotta be, ‘cause I don' t'ink I'm gonna make it ‘ere on m' own.

Remy looked out at the sky once more, shuddered from a chill felt more on the inside than out, and rose to follow his friend.

To read more click here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2508081/1/

 

[squeekness]

Book three ~ Endgame

(One)


Henry sat at his work station, fumbling through the last of the detonators. The date for the big offensive had been set for the next day and as much as he didn’t like the idea of warfare, he was eager to get these done.
Beast was a creature of deep feelings though he didn’t always articulate them. Here he was creating devices made to kill and yet you wouldn’t know from the look on his face that the very act of doing this disturbed him greatly. Remy was not the only one with reservations about large scale killing, but Beast hadn’t been able to get the acts of the slavers out of his mind. He recalled all too vividly the sounds of them killing off the humans that had been undesirable as slaves and the pens had been a horror. Those people had done nothing wrong other than be in the wrong place at the worst possible time. As much as he shared Gambit’s revulsion to killing and war in general – as a doctor he’d had to repair too much of the collateral damage that many battles and stupid petty squabbles had left behind – he understood that sometimes it just had to be done.

Logan was aware of his teammates’ reluctance to fight and had gone out of his way to remind them both about the callousness of such slavers. Any race that felt itself so superior that it could kill and enslave with such a lack of compassion and sympathy for the rights of others was one that had to be destroyed. The Dognan moved from world to world, how long before they decided they wanted more than just a few slaves from their own precious Earth and stole the rest of it?

Henry knew this, he did, but there was always that lingering doubt that not all of the Dognan men approved of such practices. A race that thought nothing of slavery no doubt used conscription as a means of replenishing their ranks. They could be killing many innocent people along with the guilty. Henry knew his history, Nazi Germany no doubt had it’s share of innocent Germans, but the regime as a whole had to go. This wasn’t much different.

The one thing that did give Henry some selfish comfort was the knowledge that he wasn’t going to be active in the field. He would be co-ordinating the various teams from the Lucky Dragon and not out in the actual fighting. It made this a little easier to bear.

Beast closed his eyes and rubbed them for a moment. These thoughts were painful and he was trying not to dwell on them. He also knew that this thing had to be done for them to earn their way home, as distasteful as it might be. He had tried to explore other avenues of getting their freedom a bit more cheaply, but the alternatives here were almost non-existent, there simply was no other way besides their co-operation with the Clan.

Beyond his initial outburst, Gambit, too, had gone quiet on the matter. He did as he was instructed and kept his thoughts to himself. The haunted look was in his eyes a bit more than before, however, and it was no secret he was ready to just get this over with.

Lucky for him that would be the very next day. Another reason Beast was eager to finish today’s work was that they had all been invited to spend what they hoped was one of their last nights here with the Clan on the Lucky Dragon, being treated to Fallen’s superior hospitality. It was an invitation none of them had even considered refusing.

The plan was for them to sleep overnight with Fallen and then she would fly them to the staging area in the morning. Beast was looking forward to some decent food and a good night’s sleep – not to mention the luxury of a nice hot shower.

"You ready, Blue?"

Henry looked up into Wolverine’s eyes, seeing his teammate had arrived to collect him a little early, no doubt thinking along the same lines he was. Logan had packed up their few meager belongings and was taking them along just in case this finished quickly. Remy was quiet but tense behind him, a small backpack and his bo staff in hand.

"Yes, I just have to pack up the last of this stuff."

They helped Beast gather the remaining ordinance for the offensive. Henry was in charge of the timers and detonators for the explosives, but he and Bruce had also scrounged some more two way radios and tracking devices that might come in handy. Bruce wasn’t coming along with them to the Dragon, this had been an X-men only invite, Fallen’s way of apologizing for their rough first meeting.

Maylee met them along the way, she was returning from her classes and had been told to keep an eye out for them to make sure they didn’t get lost, and they followed her to the large hanger bay. The Lucky Dragon was parked in it's usual place, ready and inviting. The ramp was down but the hatchway was locked. There was a small intercom box just outside the door and Maylee clicked a button on it. "Seth, it’s me."

"Hey, Maylee. Did you find everyone okay?"

"Yes, they’re all here."

"Good. You know the rules though. You’ll have to wash up first. Fallen's in the workshop. You can use her lav. Take turns."

"Okay." Maylee clicked off and there was a loud snap as the hatch unlocked.

"What was that all about?" Logan grumbled.

"Fallen has this thing about being clean. She thinks all the Stations are filthy. She won't be happy unless we shower first. Is that a problem?"

Unanimously, "No!"

Maylee lead them into the ship and directly into Fallen's lavatory. Logan noticed immediately as he entered that the air quality in the ship was much better than in the hanger, something Henry had mentioned from when he had visited here so recently but it hadn’t meant anything until he experienced it now for himself. It was much cleaner and he assumed she must have filters running.

In all the time they had spent on the Lucky Dragon before, none of the X-men had gone inside Fallen's private lavatory. It was located to the back of the cage room, a private area just for her. The lav was generous for a bathroom, almost as big as the cage area itself, with plenty of room for everyone. There was a good supply of hot water so they could take as long as they liked to wash. Maylee smiled at them demurely and left.

While he waited for his turn in the shower Logan took some time to check out the room. Fallen's lav was large and had lots of shelves. Towels, clothes and bedding were stacked neatly on one and a generous supply of medical supplies were on another. There was a medium sized viewing screen mounted on the wall near the shower --- so Fallen could talk with Seth, Maylee had explained. The sink area had a large vanity with a long mirror. She had a lot of items in jars along the top of it, he saw some hand rolled cigarettes in one and helped himself. He saw another jar with old style metal syringes and wondered why she would need so many. A closer look at her collection revealed she had quite the assortment of recreational drugs. He sniffed at the jars and winced at the smell, many of them were opiates and no doubt the source of her habit.

Wolverine saw her washing machine and crammed all of their clothes into it. This machine was simple yet quite efficient, Maylee told them that it could wash their clothes in a matter of only a few minutes, something that would make Fallen a million bucks and then some if she were to sell this technology back home. Logan was happy just for the privilege of using it, these small luxuries were the most welcome after living in the grungy Clan caves all this time. The Lucky Dragon was like a time machine warping them back to civilization. He couldn't wait for their next meal. Even he'd grown sick of the horrible Clan food. He smiled at Remy as he stepped out of the shower and hopped in, grateful.

After everyone was cleaned up, they all felt refreshed and comfortable. As they left the lav, they were startled to hear loud, thumping dance music drifting up from the lower level. The affect on Gambit was immediate, he broke out into a wide smile and his pace quickened. He was a veteran of the many dance clubs nearby the Institute. Gambit loved a scrap, a chance to flex his muscles to the maximum, but more than that he loved to dance. It was a release for him and he could surely use that right now, all these weeks stressed out at Clan Station Nine had left him quite miserable.

Logan, knowing this, had to suppress a smile as he rushed to keep up.

To read more, click here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2508081/1/

 

[squeekness]

(Two)

The X-men made their way down the stairs and to the workshop, Maylee following behind them. The song was some kind of techno country music and Gambit recognized it immediately as Cotton Eyed Joe from the Rednex. It was a quirky tune but full of fun and their new friends were enjoying it and then some.

Kimble was out in the hologram again and he and his pilot Mistress were line dancing --- or at least Kimble was. Fallen was having serious trouble getting the steps right and she was goofing up like crazy, laughing at her own incompetence. The awkward pair had their backs to the hallway and didn't immediately notice the approach of their guests.

A computer screen was turned on on the long work bench in the back and an instructional animated figure was going through the dance steps on the screen. Kimble was pointing at it. "See? This way."

He stood back and went through the steps with exaggerated slowness, as if explaining to a guitared child. He took her hands and they tried again but poor Fallen was completely lost. She was making mistakes and laughing hysterically.

"No, no, no!" Kimble scolded through hearty laughter. "Yer not even close!"

He let go of her and went through it again, this time at full speed. His co-ordination was much better than Seth's and he flowed through each move with confident efficiency and in perfect time with the music. He was wearing those tight fitting black jeans again. They didn't seem to restrict him in any way, but exaggerated the odd bend of his legs. Looking at them, Logan surmised the clothes had to be part of the 'skin' that was Kimble's design, just as Lanlin’s kimono had been. There simply was no way denim pants that tight could ever be made to fit over crooked cat legs like that. Kimble wasn't human, but still danced with ease and grace.

"See? It's easy!" Kimble boasted when he finished the quick series of steps.

"Easy for you! You've got the files!" Fallen protested in response.

"That ain't it at all," he tried to explain. He took her hands once more and led her through the steps again. "Yer just bein' stubborn!" he drawled in his strange accent. "It ain't surgery, Fallen! Jus' dancin'." They danced awkwardly, Kimble forcing her to go faster and faster until she was a reckless tangle of limbs. She fell against him, gasping, and he held her loosely in his arms, his embrace comfortable and easy. They were both laughing loudly and having a blast.

The song ended and then started over, looping. Gambit took his cue and cut in on Fallen's other side, clearing his throat to get the hologram’s attention. Kimble looked up at him as he entered the line and smiled warmly, not the least bit upset over the interruption. His eyes glittered instead with amusement as he looked Remy over with the same unconcealed interest that he had Henry. He raised an eyebrow in invitation and Remy accepted, not the least bit intimidated by Kimble’s intense glance over. Remy knew both the music and the steps for this dance, he bowed and started right in. He counted off and the three of them began the dance together. Kimble and Gambit were in perfect time, but Fallen was hopelessly lost and not improving with practice.

"C'mon, 'Enry!" Remy shouted over the music and dragged a hapless Beast into the fray.

"Well, it's been some time...." Beast stammered, but managed to work his way feebly through the dance. Henry was quite nimble himself and no slouch on the dance floor, but he was unfamiliar with these particular steps. At least he was doing better than Fallen, she kept doing things backwards and was bumping back and forth between Remy and Kimble like a bizarre albino pinball. She was laughing uncontrollably, tears streaming from her eyes. She was swaying wildly, dizzily.

Kimble was laughing, too, but not as hard. He watched her with a mixture of dismay and amusement. "She's hopeless!" he announced, the verdict final.

Fallen took the hint and bowed out of the line. She staggered to the bench, her sides heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She was topless as usual and sweat gleamed on her bony torso. It didn't seem possible, but she looked thinner than before. There were some open beer bottles on the bench and she took one and drained it in one thirsty gulp. Henry joined her, glad for the excuse to make his escape. Logan weaved his way around the two remaining crazy people and leaned next to Henry.

Maylee had moved across the floor, behind all the action, to sit on the shop bed, her eyes glowing with excitement. She was watching the two remaining dancers intently. She wanted to join in, but Kimble intimidated her. He'd always made her nervous. Maybe when she got the steps figured out, she would join in. For now, she was content to watch.

Kimble and Gambit continued to dance. They were going at it with much more gusto now that the feebles had left. Gambit paused and showed Kimble a new series of steps that went with the same music. Kimble watched him carefully and then imitated him exactly, revealing he possessed a near perfect memory. He went through them again and Gambit nodded his approval. They danced again, quickly and in perfect unison.

"Oh, sure!" Fallen complained. "Now you're showing off!"

"He learns fast," Henry commented.

"He has almost unlimited learning capabilities," Fallen explained, leaning in closer to be heard over the music. "Plus he has all of Lucky's resources now that he's in the system. His 'brain' is much larger than ours if you put all that together. When he's motivated, he can learn almost anything. He especially likes games and dancing. Anything fun. He is an entertainment program after all. This is what he was designed to do."

Gambit went through another series of steps, thrilled to be dancing and playing around with the hologram. He wasn't the least bit put off by Kimble's playful and flirtatious kidding around. If anything, Kimble's eagerness to be with him only added to the fun. Gambit's gloom and dread of the upcoming mission evaporated and he laughed and laughed. He wanted to see just how much Kimble could do. The new steps that Remy showed him now were much more difficult than the ones Kimble had been trying to teach Fallen.

Kimble watched him, rapt, and picked them up just as easily as the last. He obviously enjoyed the challenge and was thrilled to be interacting with someone new. They continued to dance, rotating through the whole series of steps and Kimble completed them all with great skill. Kimble seemed to be having a grand time now that he had a competent partner. He laughed and joked with Remy, both of them at ease even though they didn't know each other well.

Logan was watching this with keen interest. Kimble learned fast, imitating Remy's slick moves with that computer perfect recall of his. Far from being thrilled by Kimble's ability to shmooze on the dance floor, Logan worried more over some basic truths. Dancing and fighting weren't all that different, especially the way Remy played it. Both required speed, grace, and accuracy and Kimble had no problem with any of these it seemed. Logan wondered if Kimble had any files on fighting techniques and just how strong he was. Because of his aggressive nature, Wolverine judged all men this way. They were categorized by threat assessments.

Kimble's outgoing and cocky demeanor made Logan wary. This was no passive and compliant hologram, not like Lanlin had been. Kimble's eyes were bright and he always seemed to have that sly, teasing grin. He was just a little too free, too independent in his spirit. He did what he wanted, not always what Fallen ordered him to do. Perhaps this was how these holograms behaved when they were integrated into a family as Kimble was, but Logan doubted it. There was something unique and different about Kimble that hadn't been there in the other hologram. Logan could see the hologram restraints were still in place, but he had no doubt Kimble could break out if he wanted to. It was there in his eyes. He had too much confidence, too much free will to be penned in forever.

Logan also recalled the argument Kimble had with Fallen. He'd threatened to click off, but was stopped by her plea for him to stay. If she was truly in control of him, Kimble would never have had the ability to leave or even the capacity to think about it independently of her. That was it, really. Kimble was a program, but showed that he functioned and thought separately and independently. Games and programs didn't do that last Logan knew. He wasn't sure what all this meant, or if it was even a concern, but he just couldn't shake the unease Kimble gave him. Even Seth hadn't made him feel this way.

He also noted how fast Remy was captivated by Kimble's charm. He couldn't recall the last time Gambit had laughed so hard or when he looked so bright and alive. Wolverine figured having a hologram like this wasn't much different than having a dog, the way they greeted you so bright and eager at the doorway when you first walked in. Problem was, some of those dogs would later bite you in the ash. Logan had no reason to believe Kimble could be any different. He only hoped that Gambit wasn't so captivated by this bizarre creation that he wouldn't get swept away by a false sense of security.

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[squeekness]

"Where did you get the steps and music for this dance?" Henry asked Fallen, interrupting Logan's thoughts.

Fallen smiled as she answered, "Seth found it in one of the Dognan computers. Apparently they have extensive files on human culture and behaviors."

"Seth has contact with the Dognan?"

"Yes. Well, he listens in on them all the time. In this case, Cerebus gave me a computer drive from a downed ship for analysis. I got the military files he wanted, but Seth found this stuff in a junk folder. The Dognan seem to like our music which is fine by me. These extracted files are my only source for music. Of all the things I miss most about home, music is the worst."

"How long have you been gone?" Henry asked gently, respectful of any pain she might still feel.

"About twenty years or so," she answered as quietly as he'd expected. "Clinton was President."

"Clinton?" Henry asked, puzzled. Back home, their President was a guy named Robert Kelly. He had risen to power on an anti-mutant platform, a cause of great concern for them all.

She smiled at him. "My Earth is not the same as yours," she explained.
"We don't have alphas or X-men, just stories about them. I believe now someone from my world could see into yours. It's my only explanation for your being here, real and alive."

"What year was it when you left?"

"2000."

Beast raised an eyebrow. "That's the same year it is for us now. If you came to our world, it would be like you never left."

"Wow," she breathed, genuinely surprised. "That’s freaky."

"May I ask how old you were when you were taken?"

"I was about 33 I guess."

"Let's see. You were 33 when you were taken. You said you've been gone about 20 years. Well, I must say you're in very good condition for someone who's about 55 years old."

"The Dognan conversion process guitars aging. I also don't get sick as much as the Clan people do. Probably the only reason I get away with smoking as much as I do."

"I'd like to hear about the conversion process sometime."

"No, you wouldn't. It was awful," she said softly, dropping her eyes for a moment.

"Have you ever thought about going back home?" Henry said, changing to a less painful subject.

"Can't. My Earth was destroyed. They're all dead," she said quickly, forcing it out.

Oops, Henry thought to himself, instantly sorry for his mistake. "What about one of the other Earths? Ours, for example. Would you like to go there?"

"Sure. Seth and I have talked about it a lot since you came." She sat back into a chair, watching Kimble and Gambit play. They seemed tireless. "But I am one who is slow to change. I am comfortable here, even with Valentin," she added softly. Before Henry could speak, she continued. "Besides, I don't know if I can jump anymore. Kimble seems to think so, but it's been a really long time. Even if I could, looking as I do now would make things difficult for me."

"That's true," Henry agreed. "But your abilities and technical knowledge would go a long way towards overcoming that."

"Who would hire me? S.H.I.E.L.D. or some other government agency?" Fallen snapped. SHIELD was a powerful American agency that had been designed on the X-men’s Earth to intervene in the human/mutant squabbles. It was telling that Fallen was aware of its existence, it gave credence to her claim that she knew the X-men for real. She went on to say, "They'd want me to make weapons and I refuse. I won't be responsible for the death of another person."

Something in her voice caught Logan's attention. He wasn't sure what it was, but it nagged at him. Her phrasing begged the question -- had she killed before? Is that why she wouldn't use her power to fight Valentin? It was the only thing that made sense around here.

"I'd hire you," Henry said simply.

(Three)

Fallen had been drinking as the doctor had made his offer and she coughed and sputtered with surprise at Henry’s words. Kimble glanced her way, protectively watching his Mistress but not slowing down. Fallen replied, "You would hire me? What would that make me? The Fallen X-Man?" She threw her head back and laughed, obviously not believing him. "Yeah, I'd fit right in with all you beautiful happy people," she said sarcastically.

"Beautiful?"

"Oh, yes," she replied, a hard glint coming into her eyes. "That's the way you're drawn. A Clan of handsome, beautifully tragic people fighting a never ending war against racism. Me? I'm just tragic, nothing more," she finished bitterly.

Kimble seemed to sense her change in mood and came over, using his thirst as an excuse to make sure she was all right. He grabbed a bottle of beer next to her, selecting the one that was the most full, and chugged the whole thing down without stopping. He spilled the last of it and almost choked as it dribbled down his chin. He grinned and wiped his face on his arm, sputtering.


"Slob!" Fallen teased with a laugh.

"Wuz raised inna smoreehouse. Let's go, yer rested enough, girl!" he said with hearty laughter, dragging her back to the dance. She didn't fight him. She failed once more at the steps, but Kimble succeeded in inspiring her laughter.

"smoreehouse, huh? Bet that's not far off the mark," Logan joked humorlessly, thinking of Lanlin. "He's very protective of her."

"Yes, as every good friend should be, I suppose."

"Your job offer didn't seem to impress her much," Logan continued, keeping his voice low as he kept his wary gaze on Kimble.

"Sometimes all one has to do is plant the seed, my friend. Perhaps if Kimble hears as well as I suspect, he will persuade her," Henry replied.

He'd noticed the timing of Kimble's convenient interruption and had no doubt of what he’d seen in Kimble’s eyes. "He'd do anything to get her away from Valentin, I am sure of it. Perhaps I will speak to him directly about it."

Logan snorted. "Don't bother. We don't know anything about him. Look at him. He's one of those Siskan holograms, but there's something different about him. He could be dangerous."

"Different? Yes. Perhaps it's because Fallen is using him for something a little less recreational than you did with the other one, my friend."

"Sheesh, Blue. It ain't that, okay? Did you see his eyes? He's got too much spirit. It’s like he’s really alive or something."

"Is that a tone of fear I detect? You don't think you could take him down if it came to it?"

"Sure, I can. If he bleeds. We don't know that he does or anything else about him."

"I'm willing to take the risk to get home. I still believe Fallen may be our only ticket out of here. Besides, I haven't seen anything about Seth or Kimble to make me nervous yet."

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[squeekness]

Once more, Fallen bowed out and left Gambit in charge of her overzealous hologram. She stepped aside, enjoying the show the two of them were putting on.

Remy was all over it. He danced faster and faster and was amazed when Kimble easily kept pace with him. Kimble moved with a fluid feline grace that matched his own and it was impossible for him tell Kimble wasn’t real by his movements. The only giveaway was a certain lack of fine detail on Kimble’s body and clothing and Remy saw the hologram’s ‘skin’ flicker slightly a few times. It didn’t slow Kimble down any, he certainly didn’t freak out like Seth did. He just kept dancing and fooling around, laughing wildly and clapping his hands.

A moment later, Kimble abruptly stopped dancing and stood still, touching his ear as if listening to something only he could hear. His body gave a great shiver and then melted slightly, magically shifting its appearance into Seth's. Seth apparently wanted to give the dance a try and in spite of all the fun he was having, Kimble had generously given the hologram over to him.

Henry raised his eyebrows to Logan who only looked that much more aloof. "Neat trick," the doctor couldn’t help but comment.

Fallen took Seth's hands and smiled, her pleasure at his arrival obvious to all. "I was hoping you'd come," she said and kissed him. "Let’s dance, love. Show Kimble just how good you are."

"Okay, just take it easy on me," he laughed. He bobbled a bit, woozy and blinking. "Uh, gotta thank Kimble for the beer. I think I’m too drunk for this!"

"You’ll be fine," Fallen said, giving him another kiss.

At last, someone who danced worse than Fallen. Seth was still very slow and wobbly on his legs. Gambit grinned and showed Seth the steps, curious about how he was different from Kimble. Seth shared Kimble's near perfect memory, but not his skill. He still struggled as he moved his body around. He was also quite drunk on what Kimble had taken into the hologram, that had been no joke. His cheeks were now flushed and he had a good case of the giggles going on.


Remy was very patient with the new arrival, as ever a natural teacher. He was amused to no end on how tipsy Seth was, it only added to the fun and he was having a blast.

Seth ate up all the encouragement Gambit had to offer and started to dance when the song looped over again. The two different personalities were very powerful in their individuality, Seth seemed small and timid compared to Kimble's dynamic presence, another sign of just how different these two brothers really were.

Maylee was keenly aware of that difference and was excited Seth had come. She loved him best and enjoyed his company, especially when he was out in the hologram. She decided she'd seen enough to give the dance a try, figuring she couldn't be any worse than he was. She came up behind Seth and waited to cut in.

The young Siskan didn't see her and swung back with his arms, inadvertently elbowing her in the face. Maylee cried out in shock and surprise as her nose began to bleed.

Seth turned to Maylee and panicked when he saw the blood. "Are you all right?" he gasped in fear. It was only just a small dribble of blood, but he grabbed at her like she'd been stabbed. Blood from her nose leaked out over his hand and Seth cried out in horror at the sight of it.

The music stopped abruptly although no one had moved to shut it off. Logan looked around, confused and it next occurred to him that Seth or Fallen had shut it off just by thinking about it.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Maylee said, laughing and feeling foolish for not looking out where she'd been going. Fallen tossed her a rag and Henry stepped in to pinch off her nose. It was more difficult because of her cat like face, but the bleeding was so minor, he wasn’t really concerned about it.

Seth was. He backed up, looking at the bright red blood on his hands in terror. His eyes were wide and he began to tremble violently. He made sharp hitching noises as he started to hyperventilate as he had before. All of his confidence had evaporated, lost by what he perceived to be a disaster. Fallen noticed and went to him. "Hey, relax. She's fine."

"I hurt her....I hurt her...Uhhh..." Seth wheezed. All he could see was the blood.

"It was an accident. See? The bleeding's already stopped." Fallen looked back at Maylee who held the rag up as proof. She wasn't bleeding anymore.

Seth didn't care. "I hurt her... I hurt May!" he wheezed breathlessly. He backed up until he hit the wall and slid down to the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears, smearing blood on his face. He kept repeating the same thing over and over.

Fallen followed him and crouched down. She put her hands on his cheeks and started chanting his catch phrase. "Shhh...Seth tay kunda Siska esk. Seth tay kunda Siska esk..."

Logan noted the word Siska and nodded to himself. Siska, meaning this was in fact a Siskan hologram, just as Zekian had spoken of. Wolverine watched Seth’s childish display of horror with a kind of disgust of the immature. He couldn't figure out why the two brothers were so different. Kimble made him wary because he was so outgoing, now Seth's little freakout made him even more untrusting of them both. Why would anyone over react like this unless they weren't quite right? These guys had some serious problems, no matter what anyone else thought.

After a moment, Seth calmed and was quiet. Maylee came over and crouched next to Fallen in front of Seth. She kissed him lightly on the forehead. "You okay, buddy?"

At the sound of her voice, Seth opened his eyes. He looked tired and frightened and he reached out and lightly touched Maylee's nose as if he didn't believe she was okay. "I'm so sorry I hurt you." He looked like he would bawl at any moment.

"It's okay. It was my fault. Next time I'll let you know I'm behind you. It was an accident," Maylee said. At twelve years old, she sounded more adult than the man on the floor in front of her. Her concern was obvious, just as she was clearly much more at ease with Seth than with Kimble.

Seth nodded and closed his eyes again. "I want to go back now," he said softly.

"All right," Fallen said. "Don't stay away long. Kimble will take care of you." She gave him a lingering kiss and hugged him. Seth smiled at her, grateful for her touch and then turned his head away. The hologram melted from Seth's shape into that of a solid square. The personality was gone, but the particles remained and waited to be used again.

"What was that all about?" Logan asked impatiently. He didn’t understand why Seth had made such a fuss over a nosebleed.

"He's very sensitive to any kind of violence," Fallen explained, giving Logan a dirty look. She had no patience for his lack of understanding and stood up to face him. "It's worse when Valentin's been around. He can’t take the sight of blood."

"Can't imagine why."

"I think Seth is paranoid about how his actions affect other people," Fallen continued, ignoring his sarcastic remark. "Understand that his on-screen personality can't be hurt or affect this outside realm. The hologram is different. When he's out, he's much more sensitive about what he does and how he acts. He's more timid, more easily frightened than Kimble. Although I think he panics too easily, I fail to see how his being upset over hurting someone is a bad thing. I'd rather have him like this than be a bully."

"Where did he go?" Henry asked.

"He's back inside the system. He'll be quiet now for a couple of hours and then he'll be back, good as new. I'll talk to him about this and he'll be better."

"Kimble comin' back?" Logan wanted to know.

"No. He'll look after Seth until he's ready to come back out."

No one was in much of a mood to dance after this so they all went back upstairs. Fallen and Maylee cooked another wonderful stew. As before, Fallen served no meat, but it was fine just the same. They also served fresh bread and fruit, making a nice well rounded meal, the best the X-men had eaten in days. They all ate until they were stuffed, their good humor returning after a while. Gambit took out his cards and they played and drank her fine wine until it was quite late.

Neither Seth nor Kimble returned to the screen. Fallen would keep looking up as if expecting them, but the control room remained empty. Eventually they all grew tired and wandered off to bed. Fallen set the X-men up in the barracks, making sure they were all comfortable before retiring herself. She gave Maylee her bed in the cage and went down to the lower level to sleep.

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[squeekness]

(Four)

Sometime in the night, Wolverine jerked suddenly awake. He'd heard a strangled cry from the lower level, something that brought him from a deep sleep to full attention. He sat up and listened, seeing that no one else around him was awakened by the noise. It was dark in the ship but he could see well in the dark, enough to notice the trap door was still open. He rose, sleek and quiet in the dark. This was his element and he could move about easily without being noticed.

Soft voices rose from below. Kimble and Fallen were whispering togther but it wasn’t enough to keep Wolverine from hearing that she was crying. Logan moved silently to the trapdoor and down the stairs. He slid down the hall and paused at the opening for the workshop. He wasn’t ready to make his presence known just yet, he wanted to see what was going on first. There were no lights on in the room but with his enhanced senses, he could clearly see the edge of the bed from where he had stopped. She wasn’t alone, the Kimble hologram was talking to her gently from a crouched position on the floor.

"S'okay, now, baby doll, I'm right here."

"Seth!" she called, her voice hoarse.

"He ain't come back yet. He's all nervous with the extra folks around. I'm here fer ya now."

Fallen was crying. She'd obviously had a nightmare, something Logan was all too familiar with himself. "Don't let them catch me!" Her voice had an edge of panic.

"Ain't nuthin here 'cept me," he soothed, leaning up onto the bed so he could touch her. "S'all quiet now. Jus' relax."

"No, they're always here, always..."


"Who? Who're you 'fraid of? Why won’tcha ever tells me?"

Kimble's voice had a familiar ring of frustration to it, informing Logan that she must have had this dream before. She didn't answer him but continued to sob. Fallen kept her secrets.

Kimble held her, kissing her and tenderly stroking her face. Taking advantage of her distress, his kisses grew more slow and intimate until he was making out with her full on the mouth.

She allowed it for a moment then gently pushed him away. "Stop that," she whispered.

"Why?" he asked her just as quietly. He wasn’t pushing himself on her, he was simply upset at her refusal to let him help her. "I kin helps ya. I kin takes yer pain away if you would only let me. It's what I wuz made ta do, you knows that."

"It's not you I want."

"Seth ain't never gonna do fer you like I can, baby doll."

"Ability has nothing to do with it. We love each other, that's all that matters."

"I loves you, too!" he protested in an almost childish whine.

"I know you do," she replied, holding his chin. "I can hear it in your voice and taste it from your lips. You have a kind and loving heart, but you will never love me like he does."

"Let me takes yer pain, girl," he insisted. "All ya needs is fer someone ta touch ya right. Show ya that ya don' need Vally's pain ta feel alive. Seth cain't do that, Fallen, but I can. I loves ya enough to wanna helps ya. I hates ta see ya like this."

"I know you care," she said, looking into his eyes. "But even you can't take all the pain away. It hurts me all the time now."

"That's cuz ya don' keep Vally offa ya. You gittin’ pregnant and rippin' yer body all ta bad place with them horrible potions ta git rid of it ain't helpin’," Kimble complained with real concern.

Logan winced inwardly at the thought of what she'd done to herself. There was much they didn’t know about this pilot and her strange holographic men. He had no idea what drove her, what kept her going --- or what kept her sane. Wolverine just prayed she could hang on a little longer, just long enough to help them... and from the sound of things, herself as well.

"I didn't get pregnant this time," Fallen was arguing to her companion.

"No. But you ain't been right since the last time. Yer too thin. Usin' too much. I knows yer havin' trouble keepin' food down. You worry me, girl. Ya really do."

"I'm fine," she insisted sadly, rubbing his cheeks. "Thanks for caring, though." She sat up on the bed and rested her head back against the wall, sighing heavily. "I need a drink."

Kimble responded immediately, he rose and went to the shop bench, lighting two large double wick candles there. He grabbed a whiskey bottle from the bench, stuck it under his arm, and carried the works back over to the bed. His movements were quick and practiced, the sign of a good and conscientious servant.

Logan crouched down as Kimble passed near the doorway, fearful that the light might reveal him watching there. In spite of the extra illumination, the hologram didn't appear to notice him. Kimble set the candles on the floor and handed Fallen the bottle. He fussed over her, taking a blanket and seeing that she was covered, draping it over her shoulders.

"Thanks," she said, using a claw to open the bottle.

"Shure thing, kid. Anathin' fer you." Kimble sat down on the floor, his back against the bed.

Fallen took a large hit from the bottle and sighed in relief as the warmth of the liquor spread through her. She reached out and pulled Kimble's long ponytail onto the bed with one hand and toyed with it, running it through her fingers. He put his head back, loving the attention.

"You're the best friend a girl could have," Fallen whispered wistfully.

"Why's that? Cuz I let ya git drunk an' pet me?" Kimble teased, laughing a little at his joke.

"Actually yes. I enjoy this simple pleasure very much. But mostly it's because you're always here when I need you. I'm glad you wanted me to work on restoring the hologram. It's better talking with you like this instead of on the screen."

"Better fer me, too. You gonna sleeps down here all the time now? All I kin do is talks to ya when yer up top."

"I'll think about it." She sounded like a woman who didn't like to commit to anything.

"You seen Vally today," Kimble said, changing the subject. It wasn't a question.

"Yes. This morning."

"He give you any crap? That why you dreamin’?"

"No. He was too busy. Tomorrow will be a busy day for us all."

"You talk with Cerebus? He gonna make Vally leave you alone?"

"He said, ‘Stop resisting him and he won't beat you’."

"That's cuz ya don't tells him what he does. Jus' like you won't tells me why ya let him hurts ya like ya do," Kimble complained, turning to look back at her. "If ya won' tell me, you should tells Seth. I knows yer more personal with him than me."

"I don't want to start this with you again."

"Sorry. It's only cuz I cares 'boutcha, is all," he said, giving in. He was quiet a moment and then ventured to ask, "We gonna split or what?"

"What do you mean?