It was a sea of green as far as the eye could see – which was very far indeed, as the owner of the optic nerves, doing the seeing, was falling from an elevation of twenty thousand plus feet, fast.
"This is FUCKING INSANE!! " the deep baritone voice of Chance screamed, her recently shaved head nothing but a tarmac from which beads of sweat launched into the great blue beyond. Around her, three other members of the illegal Fallen Angels plummeted to earth as well. One, their impromptu leader only because she was the chica with enough balls to con the others into this, Meltdown, was no newcomer to sky-diving and seemed regally comfortable, as the up swells caressed her blond locks and threatened to rip her stylish pink spectacles from her button nose. The cat, Feral, also an old-time X-Force member, fell to the earth with grace and confidence in her abilities to halt her descent. Anarchist, the brother from Alaska, was the only one of their quintet who seemed to share Chance’s frustration.
"This is the LAST TIME I follow a bit of pussy ANYWHERE!!" Tike Alicar screamed to the gods, who seemed to be laughing too much at his plight to care.
What caught the two off guard the most was how FAST they were falling. And how soon, with a jolt, their parachutes opened automatically at the safest distance possible – flimsy material that opened from backpacks affixed to their shoulders, catching the air and allowing them to glide down to the tips of the Amazon's canopy. It was a blink, we're here, type moment. Chance wasn't sure whether to still be pissed about being forced to jump or happy she'd survived at all. She had plenty of time to mull over the dilemma as she and the others began to climb down the huge tree where they landed.
When all four sets of feet had touched down on terra firma, Meltdown took control, which was as fine with Chance. All she cared about was lighting the damn cigarette that still shook in her lips.
"We'll split up into two teams. We've only got short-range radios, so try to stay close. No matter what, rendezvous back here in two hours." Tabitha looked at the other three, unsure, not for the first time, if this was the stupidest thing she'd done in her life.
Gomi's call had woken her from a fitful slumber, nightmares of falling bodies and damaged loyalties ravaging her mind. What with the status of Genosha, the Representative’s call had come in the form of a Central Government technician pounding at her door, holding a cell phone in his hand. The cell phone wasn't connected to any known network in the world; instead, it was powered by the telepathic relays of a mutant in the employment of the Communications Office. Not paying much attention to how a call could be facilitated, Tabitha listened to the ear-piece while rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Once Gommi told her the body count, she was fully awake. After he'd gone over the circumstances, she was dressed and running through the halls to find anyone she could.
These were the three she'd found, a raunchy punk, a hairy bitch, and an immigrant from Alaska.
Fuck her.
"Chance, you're with me. Feral, Anarchist, head to the East, see what you can find. Above all, people, try to keep a low profile. This isn't exactly a sanctioned op."
"Meaning we're breaking big-daddy Mags’ rules." Chance breathed the words out in a cloud of gray, relaxing smoke, a slight smile on her lips as she did so.
"Kick ass," the Alaskan native replied, grinning from ear to ear with teeth as white as his homeland.
"Sanctioned or not, mutants are being burnt, literally, to the ground out there. This is the stuff we are meant to stop. With, or without, Magneto's approval," the former Boom-Boom admonished, looking at each member of her team in the eyes as she did so.
"This is insane" was the only comment left for Chance to make before Meltdown ushered her further into the jungle.
The two walked at a brisk pace, with no real communication passing between them other than signals for which direction to turn. The air was heavy with smoke and ash. In the distance, though close enough to feel the heat, the flames that were purging the Amazon of a tribe continued to burn.
Meltdown knew the second Chance’s boot stepped on and snapped a stick that they were in trouble. It was an area full of thick foliage, a wall of vegetation made from leaves as big as Chance’s thigh – a perfect place to stage an ambush.
"FREEZE!! ON THE GROUND!! NOW!! NOW," four sets of voices shouted in unison. Militia soldiers leapt out from behind the bushes that surrounded the two Genoshians. One of the militants ran forward, the butt of his rifle slamming into the small of each girl’s back, forcing them to the ground.
Meltdown, trained by one of the most hard-ass military nuts ever to walk this green Earth, rolled with there assault, dropping to one knee and sweeping the feet out from under her attacker. Continuing the arc of her foot, Tabitha let her rear touch the ground and rolled over, bring her stabilizing foot back around in a wide, high arc above her head. The soldier didn't have time to hit the ground before the Mistress of the Boom’s heel collided with his Adam's apple.
Chance, however, had no such training. All she was able to do was fall back on the skills she'd learned from running with gangs back in the day. Sadly, the men with the guns were much faster than she and Tabitha. The chill of having the barrel of a firearm placed against her skull halted any actions Chance was going to take.
"Make a move and she dies," the man behind Chance said, his hand held tight against the base of her neck, using her as a human shield against Meltdown. The Fallen Angel got the point and stood still as two other soldiers walked up and placed cuffs on her wrists and legs. Chance was likewise incarcerated, once they were sure Meltdown was secure. The remaining militants departed with their prisoners in tow.
"Gee, thanks for getting me kidnapped," Chance, writhing against her chains as much as she could, hissed at Tabitha. The two walked at the assistance of two soldiers behind them, while the other one took the lead position.
"You’re welcome. Thanks for being such an easy target," Meltdown whispered back, keeping her lips still as she did so.
"Excuse me!? What, did you expect me to TAKE Rambo over there!?"
"No, I'm serious. Thank you for playing the victim. Did you see how fast those mercs were on you? These hired guns didn't blink when I crushed that guy’s Adam's apple, not to mention that they left him out there unconsciousness. What does that tell you?"
"That they... what the fuck are you saying?"
"They are mercenaries, Chance. Someone HIRED them to be here, to do this – to burn this land and it's people, away. We need to find out who’s behind this."
Chance just stared back at her sometime teammate, thunderstruck.
"This is fucking insane."
"This is FUCKING INSANE!! " the deep baritone voice of Chance screamed, her recently shaved head nothing but a tarmac from which beads of sweat launched into the great blue beyond. Around her, three other members of the illegal Fallen Angels plummeted to earth as well. One, their impromptu leader only because she was the chica with enough balls to con the others into this, Meltdown, was no newcomer to sky-diving and seemed regally comfortable, as the up swells caressed her blond locks and threatened to rip her stylish pink spectacles from her button nose. The cat, Feral, also an old-time X-Force member, fell to the earth with grace and confidence in her abilities to halt her descent. Anarchist, the brother from Alaska, was the only one of their quintet who seemed to share Chance’s frustration.
"This is the LAST TIME I follow a bit of pussy ANYWHERE!!" Tike Alicar screamed to the gods, who seemed to be laughing too much at his plight to care.
What caught the two off guard the most was how FAST they were falling. And how soon, with a jolt, their parachutes opened automatically at the safest distance possible – flimsy material that opened from backpacks affixed to their shoulders, catching the air and allowing them to glide down to the tips of the Amazon's canopy. It was a blink, we're here, type moment. Chance wasn't sure whether to still be pissed about being forced to jump or happy she'd survived at all. She had plenty of time to mull over the dilemma as she and the others began to climb down the huge tree where they landed.
When all four sets of feet had touched down on terra firma, Meltdown took control, which was as fine with Chance. All she cared about was lighting the damn cigarette that still shook in her lips.
"We'll split up into two teams. We've only got short-range radios, so try to stay close. No matter what, rendezvous back here in two hours." Tabitha looked at the other three, unsure, not for the first time, if this was the stupidest thing she'd done in her life.
Gomi's call had woken her from a fitful slumber, nightmares of falling bodies and damaged loyalties ravaging her mind. What with the status of Genosha, the Representative’s call had come in the form of a Central Government technician pounding at her door, holding a cell phone in his hand. The cell phone wasn't connected to any known network in the world; instead, it was powered by the telepathic relays of a mutant in the employment of the Communications Office. Not paying much attention to how a call could be facilitated, Tabitha listened to the ear-piece while rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Once Gommi told her the body count, she was fully awake. After he'd gone over the circumstances, she was dressed and running through the halls to find anyone she could.
These were the three she'd found, a raunchy punk, a hairy bitch, and an immigrant from Alaska.
Fuck her.
"Chance, you're with me. Feral, Anarchist, head to the East, see what you can find. Above all, people, try to keep a low profile. This isn't exactly a sanctioned op."
"Meaning we're breaking big-daddy Mags’ rules." Chance breathed the words out in a cloud of gray, relaxing smoke, a slight smile on her lips as she did so.
"Kick ass," the Alaskan native replied, grinning from ear to ear with teeth as white as his homeland.
"Sanctioned or not, mutants are being burnt, literally, to the ground out there. This is the stuff we are meant to stop. With, or without, Magneto's approval," the former Boom-Boom admonished, looking at each member of her team in the eyes as she did so.
"This is insane" was the only comment left for Chance to make before Meltdown ushered her further into the jungle.
The two walked at a brisk pace, with no real communication passing between them other than signals for which direction to turn. The air was heavy with smoke and ash. In the distance, though close enough to feel the heat, the flames that were purging the Amazon of a tribe continued to burn.
Meltdown knew the second Chance’s boot stepped on and snapped a stick that they were in trouble. It was an area full of thick foliage, a wall of vegetation made from leaves as big as Chance’s thigh – a perfect place to stage an ambush.
"FREEZE!! ON THE GROUND!! NOW!! NOW," four sets of voices shouted in unison. Militia soldiers leapt out from behind the bushes that surrounded the two Genoshians. One of the militants ran forward, the butt of his rifle slamming into the small of each girl’s back, forcing them to the ground.
Meltdown, trained by one of the most hard-ass military nuts ever to walk this green Earth, rolled with there assault, dropping to one knee and sweeping the feet out from under her attacker. Continuing the arc of her foot, Tabitha let her rear touch the ground and rolled over, bring her stabilizing foot back around in a wide, high arc above her head. The soldier didn't have time to hit the ground before the Mistress of the Boom’s heel collided with his Adam's apple.
Chance, however, had no such training. All she was able to do was fall back on the skills she'd learned from running with gangs back in the day. Sadly, the men with the guns were much faster than she and Tabitha. The chill of having the barrel of a firearm placed against her skull halted any actions Chance was going to take.
"Make a move and she dies," the man behind Chance said, his hand held tight against the base of her neck, using her as a human shield against Meltdown. The Fallen Angel got the point and stood still as two other soldiers walked up and placed cuffs on her wrists and legs. Chance was likewise incarcerated, once they were sure Meltdown was secure. The remaining militants departed with their prisoners in tow.
"Gee, thanks for getting me kidnapped," Chance, writhing against her chains as much as she could, hissed at Tabitha. The two walked at the assistance of two soldiers behind them, while the other one took the lead position.
"You’re welcome. Thanks for being such an easy target," Meltdown whispered back, keeping her lips still as she did so.
"Excuse me!? What, did you expect me to TAKE Rambo over there!?"
"No, I'm serious. Thank you for playing the victim. Did you see how fast those mercs were on you? These hired guns didn't blink when I crushed that guy’s Adam's apple, not to mention that they left him out there unconsciousness. What does that tell you?"
"That they... what the fuck are you saying?"
"They are mercenaries, Chance. Someone HIRED them to be here, to do this – to burn this land and it's people, away. We need to find out who’s behind this."
Chance just stared back at her sometime teammate, thunderstruck.
"This is fucking insane."
Back to Gatefold#22 - "Bipolarization - Part III"
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"No, what's insane is that they thought they could even DO a third one without Cameron. I mean, the man was the vision behind the first two. Anything without him is just garbage."
"Yea, but Arnie's hot." Feral smirked, tail whisking behind her playfully.
"He's old enough to be your grandfather," Tike rebutted, with a grimace on his face.
"I dig older guys," the feline said simply.
The two moved on a little while without talking, scanning the jungle for anything other then green leaves or brown bark. So far, they'd been unsuccessful. There was a slight edge to their search, as the fires that forced them to sweat in such copious amounts were getting closer every minute. They were a good forty-five minutes into their two-hour block of time and would turn back soon so as to make their rendezvous. Feral had to keep some distance from Anarchist, as the mutants sweat was something beyond mere salt-laced water expunged from the body. For a second, Feral wondered why she'd thought of the fact she couldn't be close to him right then, but didn't dwell on it long.
Instead, she decided to invest all her attention toward the new smells coming from the East, off to the left a little ways.
"We're not alone," she whispered, vaulting to the trees above and gliding through their branches. With obvious grace due to her cat based attributes, Feral moved much quicker than Alicar, who had to scramble too catch up. As the distance between the two widened, a small light bulb went off in Feral's head, remembering Cable's training. By the time she whirled her head back to look at her partner, however, she realized she was far too late.
Three soldiers, obviously tribal, surrounded Tike, while two more reclined in the crux of wide branches a few feet in front of Feral, spears raised and pointed squarely at the space between her eyes. How five apparent threats snuck up on someone with such a heightened sense of smell bewildered Feral, her past conditioning faltering as she merely raised her hands to emulate Anarchist below. The soldiers were painted with berry juices of various colors, and she noticed the markings covered large expanses of dark sun-burnt skin of a hue only found naturally this close to the equator. For some reason, Feral was certain the muscles beneath that skin were easily faster then her own. With a wave of his staff, the lead man motioned the cat to the ground, waiting for his partner to drop before he followed.
Feral's eyes caught the other warrior first, struck suddenly once she did. A hard fierce face looked back at the Genoshian, with thin braids of auburn that fell down to rest on the graceful but muscular shoulders. Piercings adorned the warrior’s ears, along with a tribal type scar above the soldier’s right eye. The color of the skin also surprised Feral as she stood to her full height on her back haunches, taking in this vision – this image of beauty that was this…female. She was a warrior princess of some sort, Feral assumed, taking stock of the way she held herself, without fear of recriminations from her male peers.
God DAMN, she was hot, Feral surmised. Not new to the idea of finding another woman attractive, Feral wasn't surprised by her reaction. She was stunned, however, by how strong the attraction was.
Anarchist had similar thoughts and was equally surprised to see the look of animal lust in Feral's eyes. Hello, he wanted to say, big pointy spears pointing at us. Check the libido at the door, little miss kitty.
"Wha channe kic", one of the males said, motioning further ahead with his spear. The two Fallen Angels guessed that meant they were to walk the way he'd pointed and started to hike deeper into the jungle, closer to the raging inferno at its heart.
At a rapid rate, her heart continued to pump. Chance’s anxiety rose to new heights each time she glanced at one of the cold steel barrels that were pointed her way.
Meltdown continued to walk forward at an even clip, unfazed by the guns that surrounded her. Chance was, quite frankly, amazed that Tabitha could be such a cold, hard bitch. The punk liked the woman more and more by the minute.
The group passed through a few trees and was forced to stop roughly by their chaperones. Chance stared at the ground, wondering if there was some way out of this. So far, she wasn't aware of any prospects.
"Two new externals, sir," the soldier in the lead remarked, saluting his superior as a form of green seemed to walk out of the surrounding bushes. The man wasn't much taller than the one addressing him but was far more imposing, even covered with leaves and twigs. The camouflage had worked remarkably well, Chance grimaced.
"Hrm, someone finally decided to get the gene-jokes some help," the man commented gruffly, small facial features coming to light the closer he came to Chance. He looked to be in his sixties, easily, due to the wrinkles and crows feet that he wore around his eyes with fierce pride. "State your affiliation."
"Genosha," Meltdown replied quickly, drawing those piercing eyes away from Chance’s own, thank Christ. "Yours?”
"Huh. Funny. Ya think you get to ask questions?" He smirked softly, truly amused by the blonde’s words. Chance had to pause for a moment, listening to the man's diction – his American southern accent.
"Here's a better one: since when were Ecuadorian Militia red-neck hicks from Louisiana?"
"Since they paid for ‘em."
"Well, you SHOULD have paid for the damn National Geographic subscription. Maybe then you'd have an idea what the Hell they are clicking at us.” Feral breathed at Anarchist, her voice full of malice. Wait a moment, Tike thought to himself, how is this MY fault?
"What, you’re blaming me?"
"If you'd kept up, you wouldn't have been ambushed."
"Right, and I fail to see how you could have helped, what with three sharp, pointy sticks aimed at your heart up in those trees."
"You're lucky you’re a good lay."
"You're lucky I like fur."
Feral liked him more and more as the days wore on. She couldn't explain why she was attracted to Tike, as brothers were rarely her type. None the less, Shaft over there had some definite skills where the carnal acts were concerned.
Her train of thought was quickly derailed as a second voice joined her own inside her skull.
'Please, follow the guards to the central square. We will meet you there.'
The fact someone had just spoken directly into her mind didn't faze the Fallen Angel, thanks yet again to Cable’s harrowing mentorship, but it was the tone of the voice that shocked Feral to the core. With a glance Anarchist’s way, she saw she wasn't the only one stunned.
The words had been said... in a kind tone, a welcoming tone, a…friendly tone.
"Missy, you will stop taking that tone with me right this moment if you cherish the ability to look at your pretty face in the mirror each morning with out forcefully regurgitating the contents of your stomach!”
Meltdown only looked over the edge of her shades at the obvious commanding officer. "Fine. How shall I address you, sir?"
"Master is fine."
"My ass."
"Why, yes, I'd love a go at it. Are you offering?"
"Why are you destroying the rain forest here, sir? How much were you paid to commit genocide on a tribe of natives?" Tabitha pressed, sidestepping the leader’s baiting words as deftly as a ballerina.
The unit commander laughed, looking up past the canopy of trees and out to the blue sky above him. "Less than you'd expect."
"So, you admit that you are here to destroy a collection of mutants."
With a smirk, the man who held Meltdown's attention looked back at her. "I never said any such thing. You asked a question; I simply answered to the best of my knowledge. I gave you no indications of why we are here or whose orders we are taking. Don't try to bait me girl; I'm simply too good for you to get."
"Are you getting all of this?" Anarchist asked aloud, shattering the silence that had enveloped the pair as soon as they entered what was referred to as ‘the central square’ by the disembodied voice within their heads moments ago. A few of the aboriginals around them looked up at the noise he made and smiled serenely, before returning to the inner communication the entire tribe was involved within.
It was a commune of pictures, past events relayed through a mental web like means of communication. It was hard for Tike to find the words to describe how it felt, how it was to know he was touching the inner most thoughts of so many people.
The past two weeks were downloaded, literally, into the wayward mutant's psyche at breakneck speed. Memories of the experiences the tribe had shared since the invaders had come. The foreigners spoke with gruff voices, spewing rough words. The destruction of the silence the tribe experienced was taboo except in the most extreme of circumstances. This means of communication was facilitated by a few powerful psychics within the collective who connected each member to the other, much like the telephone system being employed in Genosha during the nation’s recent times of strife. While odd, Tike found himself adjusting quickly, lost in the scenes that played out in his mind.
It started long before the fires. The flames were a last resort, the initial assaults against their people, the Anag-uaki, were dealt with swiftly due to the natural gifts most of the tribe exhibited. When numbers were not enough to overcome the tribe, the mercenaries, Tike guessed, turned to napalm, starting the inferno which caused the global eye to glance at the Amazon once more. Forced to flee, the natives were picked off, one by one, as they sought safety. Slowly, in the past three days, a quarter of their number had disappeared, their outcome feared to be of the worst kind.
Luckily, one of their faster members had been able to enter their compound a few miles east from where they were. He'd stolen a number of pieces of parchment, but the elders of the commune were unable to decipher the strange glyphs found on them. Tike felt a roll of paper thrust into his hand, his eyes opening to find one of the guards who had captured Feral. Quickly, Anarchist’s fingers turned the papers around, his eyes scanning from left to right as he took in the information.
"Oh, fuck." Feral's eyebrow twitched at the vulgarity that crossed Alicar's lips.
"What?" she whispered, a little too awe-struck by all that was around her to communicate in more than a whisper.
"Roxon Industries is what. This has nothing to do with rebels or a coup or any of that political garbage. This all comes down to cold, hard cash." Tike continued to read further, pausing as he did so. "They've found mineral deposits in the area that closely resemble something known as vibranium. Guess it's important for all this hoopla."
"It is," Feral said, tail now standing straight in the air as she waited for Tike to continue.
"Right," Anarchist said, after waiting a moment to see if Feral was going to elaborate about the metal in question. "They've sanctioned 'extreme actions' to secure the mining rights for a few miles of the forest. The same exact spot where this tribe dwelled, it seems."
Tike felt their attention turn to him and Feral; questions, via mind-link, followed. One came through loudest. 'Will you help us?'
"Just let me make a call” was the only answer he had.
She'd had enough. If she didn't get any signal in three minutes, she was going ahead with the plan. It was a quickly cobbled together plan – of that there was no doubt. Still, anything was better than the meager directions Meltdown had given the other three when they'd landed after dropping into the blazing Amazon forest.
"Sir, sat-com shows hostiles have moved within a few hundred yards of the border. Another few hours and they'll be run off the land completely."
"That's what this is all about – land?" Meltdown had to smile. Of course it was; what else would it be? Her time in Genosha had soured her thinking, obviously. She leapt to the obvious conclusion like everyone else, the conclusion she and her team helped bolster by scaring the world with their theatrics and drama. There was no mutant prejudice taking form in genocide here.
"Ignite the mines then. Let’s see the rabbits run."
Meltdown's eyes drew together into slits, a slight frown curving the corners of her lips. The mutant’s eyes were as cold as ice, her hands gripped tightly into small balled fists.
"Chance," Tabitha whispered, turning her head slightly in her partner’s direction. "Take my hand. Start doing your thing."
"Wait. What thing?" Chance asked, momentarily lost as to what the queen of explosions meant. "Pump YOU up? And kiss my ass good-bye in the resulting boom? Naw, don't think so."
"Chance, shut up. Do it. Now. My bombs don't affect me, and, with your help, I can protect you as well. We don't have time to argue. This is the job; get used to it."
Chance only stared at the bitch sitting next to her for a moment before grabbing her hand hard enough to crack a knuckle or two.
"I never asked for the job."
Meltdown had to stifle a gasp as Chance's mutant powers suddenly started taking effect. The former New Yorker, Chance had the gift of amplification, empowering a mutant to reach levels of abilities they'd only dreamt of. She rarely pushed herself to pump anyone’s abilities up to a lethal level, but the time was desperate, and certain measures had to be taken. The sense of extreme anxiety that'd enveloped her wasn't helping, nor was the anger she felt at the words Tabitha had fired her way. Fuck the blonde, time to show her exactly why I don't do this much.
"Hey, Master!" the former X-Force elite screamed, suddenly, getting the attention she desired with the blink of an eye. "Boom."
"This is HEADLINE NEWS.
"Roxon Industries has been rocked by a devastating turn in the company’s stock values and possible criminal charges being brought up against the technological conglomerate.
"The recent flash-fires that destroyed over fifteen hundred acres of Amazon rain forest were, in fact, part of a ploy by a mercenary group that recent evidence shows was funded by Roxon Industries to exterminate any and all found living on or near a stretch of South American land that is reported to contain certain mineral deposits that share a striking likeness Wakanda’s top export, Vibranium, a very rare metal.
"Although Brazilian authorities, at this time, are unwilling to make any comments, a large explosion near the inferno seems to have claimed the lives of the mercenaries in question.
"Stay tuned to HEADLINE NEWS as the story unfolds."
With a wave of his hand, Erik turned off the television that he’d been suspending in the air, eye level with his face. At least there was no mention of Genosha's involvement. Again the Communications Office had helped the people of Genosha, allowing one of its citizens to reach out and touch someone, namely someone affiliated with HEADLINE NEWS. Lensheer couldn't have his recent address to the U.N. and the isolationist policy he'd been having enforced recently be called into question so soon. His country was too fragile, too weak.
Still, he had to smile a small amount at what was done today. His smirk only deepened as he glanced out the window of his tower and saw the stolen airplane Gomi had secured for Meltdown and her team streak across the horizon, heading home, her bays full of some thirty new Genosha residents, the tribe of the Anag-uaki he was told.
It seemed his students were finally growing to embrace their teachings, if not the practices that had come along with them. Perhaps, with luck, he too could do the same.
Over the sea, the plane quietly flew, the island of Genosha now visible from the left side windows. While the accommodations of the freight airliner left much to be desired, the aboriginals of the Amazon didn't care. They only wished to touch solid earth again, to feel safe with the grass beneath their feet.
One amongst them, however, didn't share these feelings. One amongst them was nothing like them, nothing like the denizens on board the ship.
A silent, pre-recorded, instant message burst was sent as the plane started its descent, the freighter’s natural radio transmissions masking the transmission from any who might be scanning for such communications.
:Base Operative Longbow has rendezvous with Amazon tribe:
:Secured place within tribe:
:ETA Genosha 4 minutes:
:STOP:
NEXT ISSUE: The End is Nigh.
POSTMARK: GENOSHA
Did I tell anyone yet this book is on a bi-yearly schedule? ‘Cause...it is. I swear. Always has been. Yep, yep yep. No fibbin' or missing deadlines here, nope, nope, nope.
See ya next year.
-ALEX
[email protected]
9.30.03
BIBLIOGRAPHY
- Erik Lensherr addressed the UN in FALLEN ANGELS #19.
"Yea, but Arnie's hot." Feral smirked, tail whisking behind her playfully.
"He's old enough to be your grandfather," Tike rebutted, with a grimace on his face.
"I dig older guys," the feline said simply.
The two moved on a little while without talking, scanning the jungle for anything other then green leaves or brown bark. So far, they'd been unsuccessful. There was a slight edge to their search, as the fires that forced them to sweat in such copious amounts were getting closer every minute. They were a good forty-five minutes into their two-hour block of time and would turn back soon so as to make their rendezvous. Feral had to keep some distance from Anarchist, as the mutants sweat was something beyond mere salt-laced water expunged from the body. For a second, Feral wondered why she'd thought of the fact she couldn't be close to him right then, but didn't dwell on it long.
Instead, she decided to invest all her attention toward the new smells coming from the East, off to the left a little ways.
"We're not alone," she whispered, vaulting to the trees above and gliding through their branches. With obvious grace due to her cat based attributes, Feral moved much quicker than Alicar, who had to scramble too catch up. As the distance between the two widened, a small light bulb went off in Feral's head, remembering Cable's training. By the time she whirled her head back to look at her partner, however, she realized she was far too late.
Three soldiers, obviously tribal, surrounded Tike, while two more reclined in the crux of wide branches a few feet in front of Feral, spears raised and pointed squarely at the space between her eyes. How five apparent threats snuck up on someone with such a heightened sense of smell bewildered Feral, her past conditioning faltering as she merely raised her hands to emulate Anarchist below. The soldiers were painted with berry juices of various colors, and she noticed the markings covered large expanses of dark sun-burnt skin of a hue only found naturally this close to the equator. For some reason, Feral was certain the muscles beneath that skin were easily faster then her own. With a wave of his staff, the lead man motioned the cat to the ground, waiting for his partner to drop before he followed.
Feral's eyes caught the other warrior first, struck suddenly once she did. A hard fierce face looked back at the Genoshian, with thin braids of auburn that fell down to rest on the graceful but muscular shoulders. Piercings adorned the warrior’s ears, along with a tribal type scar above the soldier’s right eye. The color of the skin also surprised Feral as she stood to her full height on her back haunches, taking in this vision – this image of beauty that was this…female. She was a warrior princess of some sort, Feral assumed, taking stock of the way she held herself, without fear of recriminations from her male peers.
God DAMN, she was hot, Feral surmised. Not new to the idea of finding another woman attractive, Feral wasn't surprised by her reaction. She was stunned, however, by how strong the attraction was.
Anarchist had similar thoughts and was equally surprised to see the look of animal lust in Feral's eyes. Hello, he wanted to say, big pointy spears pointing at us. Check the libido at the door, little miss kitty.
"Wha channe kic", one of the males said, motioning further ahead with his spear. The two Fallen Angels guessed that meant they were to walk the way he'd pointed and started to hike deeper into the jungle, closer to the raging inferno at its heart.
At a rapid rate, her heart continued to pump. Chance’s anxiety rose to new heights each time she glanced at one of the cold steel barrels that were pointed her way.
Meltdown continued to walk forward at an even clip, unfazed by the guns that surrounded her. Chance was, quite frankly, amazed that Tabitha could be such a cold, hard bitch. The punk liked the woman more and more by the minute.
The group passed through a few trees and was forced to stop roughly by their chaperones. Chance stared at the ground, wondering if there was some way out of this. So far, she wasn't aware of any prospects.
"Two new externals, sir," the soldier in the lead remarked, saluting his superior as a form of green seemed to walk out of the surrounding bushes. The man wasn't much taller than the one addressing him but was far more imposing, even covered with leaves and twigs. The camouflage had worked remarkably well, Chance grimaced.
"Hrm, someone finally decided to get the gene-jokes some help," the man commented gruffly, small facial features coming to light the closer he came to Chance. He looked to be in his sixties, easily, due to the wrinkles and crows feet that he wore around his eyes with fierce pride. "State your affiliation."
"Genosha," Meltdown replied quickly, drawing those piercing eyes away from Chance’s own, thank Christ. "Yours?”
"Huh. Funny. Ya think you get to ask questions?" He smirked softly, truly amused by the blonde’s words. Chance had to pause for a moment, listening to the man's diction – his American southern accent.
"Here's a better one: since when were Ecuadorian Militia red-neck hicks from Louisiana?"
"Since they paid for ‘em."
"Well, you SHOULD have paid for the damn National Geographic subscription. Maybe then you'd have an idea what the Hell they are clicking at us.” Feral breathed at Anarchist, her voice full of malice. Wait a moment, Tike thought to himself, how is this MY fault?
"What, you’re blaming me?"
"If you'd kept up, you wouldn't have been ambushed."
"Right, and I fail to see how you could have helped, what with three sharp, pointy sticks aimed at your heart up in those trees."
"You're lucky you’re a good lay."
"You're lucky I like fur."
Feral liked him more and more as the days wore on. She couldn't explain why she was attracted to Tike, as brothers were rarely her type. None the less, Shaft over there had some definite skills where the carnal acts were concerned.
Her train of thought was quickly derailed as a second voice joined her own inside her skull.
'Please, follow the guards to the central square. We will meet you there.'
The fact someone had just spoken directly into her mind didn't faze the Fallen Angel, thanks yet again to Cable’s harrowing mentorship, but it was the tone of the voice that shocked Feral to the core. With a glance Anarchist’s way, she saw she wasn't the only one stunned.
The words had been said... in a kind tone, a welcoming tone, a…friendly tone.
"Missy, you will stop taking that tone with me right this moment if you cherish the ability to look at your pretty face in the mirror each morning with out forcefully regurgitating the contents of your stomach!”
Meltdown only looked over the edge of her shades at the obvious commanding officer. "Fine. How shall I address you, sir?"
"Master is fine."
"My ass."
"Why, yes, I'd love a go at it. Are you offering?"
"Why are you destroying the rain forest here, sir? How much were you paid to commit genocide on a tribe of natives?" Tabitha pressed, sidestepping the leader’s baiting words as deftly as a ballerina.
The unit commander laughed, looking up past the canopy of trees and out to the blue sky above him. "Less than you'd expect."
"So, you admit that you are here to destroy a collection of mutants."
With a smirk, the man who held Meltdown's attention looked back at her. "I never said any such thing. You asked a question; I simply answered to the best of my knowledge. I gave you no indications of why we are here or whose orders we are taking. Don't try to bait me girl; I'm simply too good for you to get."
"Are you getting all of this?" Anarchist asked aloud, shattering the silence that had enveloped the pair as soon as they entered what was referred to as ‘the central square’ by the disembodied voice within their heads moments ago. A few of the aboriginals around them looked up at the noise he made and smiled serenely, before returning to the inner communication the entire tribe was involved within.
It was a commune of pictures, past events relayed through a mental web like means of communication. It was hard for Tike to find the words to describe how it felt, how it was to know he was touching the inner most thoughts of so many people.
The past two weeks were downloaded, literally, into the wayward mutant's psyche at breakneck speed. Memories of the experiences the tribe had shared since the invaders had come. The foreigners spoke with gruff voices, spewing rough words. The destruction of the silence the tribe experienced was taboo except in the most extreme of circumstances. This means of communication was facilitated by a few powerful psychics within the collective who connected each member to the other, much like the telephone system being employed in Genosha during the nation’s recent times of strife. While odd, Tike found himself adjusting quickly, lost in the scenes that played out in his mind.
It started long before the fires. The flames were a last resort, the initial assaults against their people, the Anag-uaki, were dealt with swiftly due to the natural gifts most of the tribe exhibited. When numbers were not enough to overcome the tribe, the mercenaries, Tike guessed, turned to napalm, starting the inferno which caused the global eye to glance at the Amazon once more. Forced to flee, the natives were picked off, one by one, as they sought safety. Slowly, in the past three days, a quarter of their number had disappeared, their outcome feared to be of the worst kind.
Luckily, one of their faster members had been able to enter their compound a few miles east from where they were. He'd stolen a number of pieces of parchment, but the elders of the commune were unable to decipher the strange glyphs found on them. Tike felt a roll of paper thrust into his hand, his eyes opening to find one of the guards who had captured Feral. Quickly, Anarchist’s fingers turned the papers around, his eyes scanning from left to right as he took in the information.
"Oh, fuck." Feral's eyebrow twitched at the vulgarity that crossed Alicar's lips.
"What?" she whispered, a little too awe-struck by all that was around her to communicate in more than a whisper.
"Roxon Industries is what. This has nothing to do with rebels or a coup or any of that political garbage. This all comes down to cold, hard cash." Tike continued to read further, pausing as he did so. "They've found mineral deposits in the area that closely resemble something known as vibranium. Guess it's important for all this hoopla."
"It is," Feral said, tail now standing straight in the air as she waited for Tike to continue.
"Right," Anarchist said, after waiting a moment to see if Feral was going to elaborate about the metal in question. "They've sanctioned 'extreme actions' to secure the mining rights for a few miles of the forest. The same exact spot where this tribe dwelled, it seems."
Tike felt their attention turn to him and Feral; questions, via mind-link, followed. One came through loudest. 'Will you help us?'
"Just let me make a call” was the only answer he had.
She'd had enough. If she didn't get any signal in three minutes, she was going ahead with the plan. It was a quickly cobbled together plan – of that there was no doubt. Still, anything was better than the meager directions Meltdown had given the other three when they'd landed after dropping into the blazing Amazon forest.
"Sir, sat-com shows hostiles have moved within a few hundred yards of the border. Another few hours and they'll be run off the land completely."
"That's what this is all about – land?" Meltdown had to smile. Of course it was; what else would it be? Her time in Genosha had soured her thinking, obviously. She leapt to the obvious conclusion like everyone else, the conclusion she and her team helped bolster by scaring the world with their theatrics and drama. There was no mutant prejudice taking form in genocide here.
"Ignite the mines then. Let’s see the rabbits run."
Meltdown's eyes drew together into slits, a slight frown curving the corners of her lips. The mutant’s eyes were as cold as ice, her hands gripped tightly into small balled fists.
"Chance," Tabitha whispered, turning her head slightly in her partner’s direction. "Take my hand. Start doing your thing."
"Wait. What thing?" Chance asked, momentarily lost as to what the queen of explosions meant. "Pump YOU up? And kiss my ass good-bye in the resulting boom? Naw, don't think so."
"Chance, shut up. Do it. Now. My bombs don't affect me, and, with your help, I can protect you as well. We don't have time to argue. This is the job; get used to it."
Chance only stared at the bitch sitting next to her for a moment before grabbing her hand hard enough to crack a knuckle or two.
"I never asked for the job."
Meltdown had to stifle a gasp as Chance's mutant powers suddenly started taking effect. The former New Yorker, Chance had the gift of amplification, empowering a mutant to reach levels of abilities they'd only dreamt of. She rarely pushed herself to pump anyone’s abilities up to a lethal level, but the time was desperate, and certain measures had to be taken. The sense of extreme anxiety that'd enveloped her wasn't helping, nor was the anger she felt at the words Tabitha had fired her way. Fuck the blonde, time to show her exactly why I don't do this much.
"Hey, Master!" the former X-Force elite screamed, suddenly, getting the attention she desired with the blink of an eye. "Boom."
"This is HEADLINE NEWS.
"Roxon Industries has been rocked by a devastating turn in the company’s stock values and possible criminal charges being brought up against the technological conglomerate.
"The recent flash-fires that destroyed over fifteen hundred acres of Amazon rain forest were, in fact, part of a ploy by a mercenary group that recent evidence shows was funded by Roxon Industries to exterminate any and all found living on or near a stretch of South American land that is reported to contain certain mineral deposits that share a striking likeness Wakanda’s top export, Vibranium, a very rare metal.
"Although Brazilian authorities, at this time, are unwilling to make any comments, a large explosion near the inferno seems to have claimed the lives of the mercenaries in question.
"Stay tuned to HEADLINE NEWS as the story unfolds."
With a wave of his hand, Erik turned off the television that he’d been suspending in the air, eye level with his face. At least there was no mention of Genosha's involvement. Again the Communications Office had helped the people of Genosha, allowing one of its citizens to reach out and touch someone, namely someone affiliated with HEADLINE NEWS. Lensheer couldn't have his recent address to the U.N. and the isolationist policy he'd been having enforced recently be called into question so soon. His country was too fragile, too weak.
Still, he had to smile a small amount at what was done today. His smirk only deepened as he glanced out the window of his tower and saw the stolen airplane Gomi had secured for Meltdown and her team streak across the horizon, heading home, her bays full of some thirty new Genosha residents, the tribe of the Anag-uaki he was told.
It seemed his students were finally growing to embrace their teachings, if not the practices that had come along with them. Perhaps, with luck, he too could do the same.
Over the sea, the plane quietly flew, the island of Genosha now visible from the left side windows. While the accommodations of the freight airliner left much to be desired, the aboriginals of the Amazon didn't care. They only wished to touch solid earth again, to feel safe with the grass beneath their feet.
One amongst them, however, didn't share these feelings. One amongst them was nothing like them, nothing like the denizens on board the ship.
A silent, pre-recorded, instant message burst was sent as the plane started its descent, the freighter’s natural radio transmissions masking the transmission from any who might be scanning for such communications.
:Base Operative Longbow has rendezvous with Amazon tribe:
:Secured place within tribe:
:ETA Genosha 4 minutes:
:STOP:
NEXT ISSUE: The End is Nigh.
POSTMARK: GENOSHA
Did I tell anyone yet this book is on a bi-yearly schedule? ‘Cause...it is. I swear. Always has been. Yep, yep yep. No fibbin' or missing deadlines here, nope, nope, nope.
See ya next year.
-ALEX
[email protected]
9.30.03
BIBLIOGRAPHY
- Erik Lensherr addressed the UN in FALLEN ANGELS #19.