Subject: Brotherly Hate 2/14: A tale of the AOA Date: Sun, 25 Aug 1996 18:50:25 +0000 From: Snowlock Organization: Corporate Communications Newsgroups: alt.comics.fan-fiction Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, all resemblance to any characters living or dead is purely coincidental (I've always wanted to say that.) The characters used in this story are copywrite of Marvel and used without permission. Certain names and sequences in this story have been adapted from Lucasfilm Inc. and are as well used without permission. Hope you enjoy. Comments good and bad are appreciated. Snowlock. ____________ Brotherly Hate chapter 2 by David B. Beaulieu Alexi Vahzin has returned to the sad Rasputin home. The morning sunlight streams through the dirty kitchen window, making Mikhail and the freedom fighters squint their eyes in its cool glare. Mikhail: Kiev? Why would I want to go there? Vahzin: Mikhi, listen to me. The collective is no longer a safe place. Encountering a prelate so close to home means Apocalypse will soon move down from Vladviostok. The Ukraine hasn't fallen yet. They still have the Black Sea fleet, still have nuclear weapons. The Ukraine can still defend itself. You and Illyana will be safe there. Mikhail: Safe from what? En Sabah Nur? I have nothing to fear from him, and neither do you. Vahzin: I know you are hurting right now, Mikhi, but please... Mikhail: Oh, spare me, Alexi. Did you ever think that if you had not decided to fight him, you may not have had to fight at all? Vahzin: He killed your parents! He took your brother away. Mikhail: Piotr left! Vahzin: He left to learn how to fight Apocalypse! Look, I know you miss Laynia... Mikhail: Laynia has nothing to do with this! My father and mother died fighting En Sabah Nur, but what did they accomplish, I wonder? Vahzin: They fought to free us! Mikhail: From what? Vahzin: Oppression! Mikhail: Oppression? From what I have seen, my own people have oppressed me. My father had to keep mine and Piotr's gifts a secret, for fear we would be killed. Perhaps we have already been freed of oppression. Perhaps, you “normal” humans fight only to put yourselves back on top! Vahzin: Is that what your father fought for? Mikhail: Maybe my father was misguided. Vahzin: No, Mikhail, it is you who are misguided. We've heard terrible things coming out of Vladivostok; concentration camps, genocide. The refugees are calling it the "culling". People are being slaughtered, Mikhi, by monstrous... Mikhail: Monstrous what, mutants? Like me? What have I to fear? Vahzin: What about Illyana? She is a normal human, like your mother and father were. She is in danger here. Mikhail: And your telling me the trek across what you perceive as a hostile country will be safer for her? Vahzin: Mikhi, this house is a sad place. Everyone is gone but the rebels, and soon, we will be as well. This is no longer a healthy place for Illyana to grow up, even if she were allowed to do so. The Ukraine is calling for all who fight this new regime from all over the Rodina to gather there. Even now, they have been in contact with this new High Council that has formed in what is left of England. The Europeans will throw their lot in with us. We have a chance to regain our lives, if we are willing to take it. Mikhail: Alexi, you know I have always been sympathetic to your cause, but I am not yet convinced this man you call Apocalypse is evil. Still, what you say about this sad place being unhealthy for Illyana is not without merit. I will consider your offer. That is the best I can do, for now. Vahzin nods: Okay. I can accept that. We will leave for Kiev as soon as we get word to proceed. It should not be more than a couple of days. If you wish to come with us, I suggest you make up your mind quickly. Where we are staging are journey is a secret, should you decide to accompany us, send me word and I will then give you the location. Mikhail: Thank you, my friend. Though we may disagree, I know you have only our best interest at heart. Vahzin and the rebels get up from the kitchen table and leave. Mikhail watches them walk down the hill to their vehicles from the window. He feels a tug on his pant leg and looks down to see his little sister looking up at him, a ragged teddy bear in her arms. Illyana: Are we going someplace new, Mikhi? Mikhail swoops her up into his arms. Mikhail: Perhaps, little snowflake. Perhaps. The X Man called Weapon X is in a world of pain. For the last hour, he has been shackled to this surgical table as the minions of Apocalypse have gone about their grisly work. First, they placed his hands in adamantium restraints, preventing Weapon X from springing his fearsome claws. Then they cut him and burned him. As the mutant tortures continued, never once did they ask Logan a question. And never once did Logan question them, nor did he scream; at least on the outside. On the inside, he steeled himself until all he could think of was a dull red ache, and he prayed his healing factor could repair the damage. Finally through the red haze, Logan saw a huge leering figure above him. Cyber. The adamantium skinned prelate of Horseman Nicodemus. The man responsible for inflicting the injuries that ultimately led Logan to seek out Magneto two years ago. Cyber: Logan, I've missed ya, kiddo. Logan replys through gritted teeth: And here I thought you fergot all 'bout me after I didn't get a birthday card form ya this year. Cyber: Ya? How's about I make it up ta ya by rippin' out yer stinkin' tongue, runt? Another figure moves into Logan's hazy view. It's Nicodemus, Horseman of Apocalypse. Nicodemus: Now, now, my dear prelate. Logan, here, needs his tongue so he can enlighten us as to what he and his fellows are doing in our small corner of the world. Logan: Sight seenin'. The horseman's eyes narrow and he raises a gnarled hand, fingers splayed out, his four inch nails pointing toward Logan's throat. Suddenly, Logan's breath is a fire in his lungs. He archs his back from the pain and the mutant tortures behind the horseman and prelate smile, for their "patient" has finally screamed. Nicodemus: I would caution you against mocking me, young one. I can make your existence quite painful. Now, you will tell us what brought you to Leningrad; was it the summit with the High Council. Logan: What's a "hi council"? Are they a bunch'a folks sittin' around all day greeting people? Down the hall, the Provisional soldiers shudder as they hear Logan's near-inhuman scream. Piotr Rasputin is awake. Actually, he has been for some time. Of course, he could'nt see by what route Laynia Petrovna, Darkstar now, carried her captives, but it is all too clear to the young Russian where he has wound up. Prison. This is not the run of the mill prison, either. Colossus's arms and legs are incased in adamantium restraints. His legs have been stretched to the point where he can not hope to get enough leverage to take the walls down. A wide band of adamantium has been placed around his waist, further restricting lateral movement. He is helpless. Worse off, however, are his two comrades. While Weapon X is currently under the tender mercies of their captors, Nightcrawler is all too near, or perhaps the furthest away from them; from the living. He has been shackled in irons and kept sedated to prevent him from teleporting. However, the sedative is unnecessary. Kurt Darkholme is in pretty bad shape. Senyaka's psionic whip had wrapped its murderous coils around the young mutant's neck, leaving a mark of its presence in a long circular burn from the base of his neck to just above his chin. Colossus looked at the young man thinking he would be scarred for life. Besides this massive near fatal wound, the Provisional soldiers' had taken there toll as well. He had been bayonetted several times, and two bullets were lodged in his chest. He also had at least four deep furrows on his arms and legs from where the agile mutant had twisted and turned to avoid the rain of bullets from the soldiers' AK-47's. For perhaps the fifth or sixth time Piotr calls to his new team member. Piotr: Kurt! Please Kurt, wake up. Nothing. He wonders what happened to Williams and Logan. The clacking of steel-shod boots from down the hall announce the presence of returning guards. Colossus looks on as the energy field in the cell next to his is deactivated and two guards drag a shattered Weapon X between them, his feet dragging. The toss him into the cell and he lands with a weak thud on the floor. Colossus waits for the clacking of the guards boots to retreat, and then calls to Logan, hoping his comrade is still conscious. In his own cell, blocked from Colossus's view, Logan struggles to crawl from the hard floor to the relative comfort of the thin cot provided for him. Weapon X: I hear ya, Petey. Stop yellin'; you'll bring the guards back. Of course, his words come out as barely an agonized whisper and Colossus hears no response. Weapon X leans back and let his healing factor go to work. He wonders about the attack. Two lieutenant prelates fighting alongside the human Provisional Army is a rarity. Apocalypse likes to keep his mutant forces, especially Alphas, among their own. To attach Senyaka and the one called Darkstar to those two companies is unusual, and frightening. It must mean Apocalypse is marshalling the rest of his forces for something else. It also means he knew the X Men were coming. Nicodemus also knew of the summit. That's even scarier. He flexes his fingers inside the adamantium cuffs that completely encompass his hands, and wishes he could pop his claws and take out his frustrations and fears on that sneering Cyber. He's going to get his wish. Outside of the massive prison. A guard is on a tall cold parapet of the high prison walls. He pulls his military issue long coat up closer to his cheeks to ward off the cold winds. His rifle strap is uncomfortable. He shrugs his shoulders to get it into a better position. Just as he turns to go back along his sentry route, he is slammed off the wall by an arrow. Attached to the lethal bolt is a long nylon cord. It pulls taunt, and the now-dead soldier's momentum carrying him over the far side of the wall to parade ground below where his fall would alert other guards is abruptly halted. In the next instant, his is pulled by the cord attached to the arrow over the other side of the wall. He lands in a secluded spot with a soft [whump]. The man crouching next to the bowman is named Henry Peter Gryich. He is one half of the terrorist team employed by the newly formed High Council to accompany its delegate to the summit. Gryich: Heck of a shot, Clint. The other half is Clint Barton. "Heck of a shot" is something he hears quite often. Barton: Just get the scanner deployed, Hen. We ain't got all day. Gryich: Gettin' impatient in yer old age, hey Barton? Gryich takes a large bundle from his backpack and heaves it to the ground. He unfolds a tripod and sticks its legs in the deep snow. Barton hands him a seven foot pole, which he took from his own battle harness, to which Gryich attaches a small sensor unit at its tip before placing the into into the center of the tripod. The pole telescopes another seven feet into the cold air. Gryich presses a button on the base of the tripod and a brilliant lattice-work of lasers springs forth from the sensor, now fourteen feet in the air. The lasers plot on a hand-held scanner the position of all of the mines of a vast mine field stretching away from the iron wall of the prison. Gryich: Think the rest of the boys're ready for a game of hop scotch? A figure behind takes a pull on a cigarette. Smoker: Let's just get on with it, hmmm? Barton: Keep yer pants on, Wisdom, we're gettin' there. Peter Wisdom, the third of the command party, signals the ten commandoes behind him, and the raiders move quickly across the mine field until they're at the base of the wall. Gryich: When we get back, we can tell Stark another of his gizmos worked. Barton: Point for the man with the chest plate. Barton draws his bow again and fires another arrow, arching it high over the top of the wall, anchoring itself somewhere inside. He grasps the cord that now stretches down the wall. Gryich: Heck of a shot, Clint. Barton: Don't you get tired of sayin' that? Gryich: You don't get tired of hearing me say it, do ya? Barton: Well, no. Gryich: Alright then. Wisdom is impatient behind the two. Wisdom: Let's get on with this. Barton: Ya think if we pull his sting again he’ll say somethin’ different? Barton attaches the cord to a miniature winch on his battle harness. With a soft [whir] drowned out by the howelling wind, he is rapidly pulled to the top of the wall. One by one, the commando unit follows. Once there, they reassemble and quietly make their way toward the far door which is one of the many entrances to the prison complex. Barton and Gryich exchange their witty remarks no longer; they're all business now. "It's about bloody time," Wisdom thinks as he follows close at Gryich's heels. The door, of course, is locked. An infinitesimal amount of Stark-enhanced C-4 is applied and the lock is blown with only a small pop. Barton: We're in! Gryich: Eye fer the obvious as always, Clinton. Barton: Don't call me Clinton, Hen. Okay, I got the specific mutagenic signature of Darkholme entered into my tracking device. 'Cordin' ta this, he's in Det Level 4. That's two floors down. Gryich: He's a pretty good shot, and he can add. The women must be knockin' down yer door. Barton: Just yer mama. Wisdom: Let's move! The two guards at the stairs drop with arrows in their throats, they can't even hiss a warning to their comrades. Barton: I know, Hen. Heck of a shot. Gryich: Actually, I coulda made that one. Barton: Ya wound me. The reason the commandoes take the stairs instead of the elevator is because they know the elevator is wired into the main central computer. That means when activated, guards are warned the car is in motion and are alerted to its ultimate destination. The stairs seemed safer. Unfortunately, they're not. Every fourth step has a pressure sensor hidden just under the surface. The guards at the central computer have been alerted to the unauthorized access. The door at the bottom of the fifth landing abruptly slams open and a sec team fires their rifles indescrimantly both up and down the stairwell. Two commandoes are hit, the armor piercing bullets of the sec team killing them instantly. Wisdom: Everybody down! Wisdom employes his mutant ability to project what he calls "hot knives" down the stairs at the sec team. The blades of heat, hotter than the face of the sun, pierce flesh and armor with ease. The members of the sec team fall back into the door way. Wisdom: Okay, Barton, you and Gryich get the X Men, Me an' the boys'll fetch Williams and secure the means of escape. Move out. Barton exchanges his bow for a light sub-machine gun. He slams the bolt back, loading a cartridge into the chamber. Barton: Bosy, ain't he? Barton puts a single shell through the visor of a guard who dared peak his head back into the stair well. With Wisdom's hot knives and the commandoes' fire providing cover, Barton and Gryich race past the doorway shielding the guards down to the third level. Gryich jacks a grenade into his the launcher attached to the bottom of his assualt rifle and blows the re-enforced door off its hinges. The pair race through and onto a high steel catwalk. From the opposite end, three more guards and a mutant with some sort of a glowing whip charge them. Gryich launches another grenade over the mutants' heads. It impacts on the far side of the catwalk, shattering its moorings. The catwalk and the guards plummet to the cell block below. As loud clanking footsteps announce the imminent arrival of more guards from the stairs behind them, Clint again hefts his bow and fires an adamantium tipped arrow into the ceiling far above. Yet another nylon cord falls from the end of the bolt into Clint's waiting hands. Gryich: Heck of a shot, Clint. He turns and empties his assualt rifle's magazine through the shattered doorway behind him. As the bowman pulls the cord taunt, Gryich slings his rifle and grabs onto his friend's battle harness. Barton: A kiss for luck, Henry Pete? Gryich: Not on yer best day, Barton. With that the pair swing on the slender cord out into the void as the sec team behind and from the cell block below blast away at them. As they sail, Gryich takes a bead on the quickly approaching door and fires another grenade, blasting the wreckage down the hall. Barton: Heck of a shot, Henry Pete. Gryich: That's my line. As the cord reaches the apex of its arc, Barton lets go and the pair sail through the wreckage of the doorway. They run down the hall of this, the restricted area of Det Level 4, until the come to twin sets of cells whose bars glow with deadly energy. Gryich takes a device from his battle harness and points it at the face of the first cell. He presses a button, and the E/M emitter cancels out the radiance surrounding the bars. Barton ignites a narrow laser beam and places it against the lock. It cuts right through. The door swings open revealing two figures. One is obviously badly wounded, laying unconscious on a narrow cot. The other is a massive man hanging from equally huge bindings from the far wall. He appears to be made of some kind of metal. The metal man looks quizzically at the pair. Barton: I know, I know. We're a little too short for stormtroopers. Metal Man: Huh? Gryich moves to the blue mutant lying on the cot and using a laser device similar to the one Barton used to cut open the door, releases the unconscious man from his shackles. Barton cuts away at one of the restraints binding the metal man. When one huge arm comes free, the mutant turns to the other shackle, and using his great strength, shatters it. The rest of the bindings come off in the same manner. Barton: You are X Men, right. Metal Man: Correct. I am Colossus and my comrade is Nightcrawler. Next door is the third of my party, Weapon X. We must free him as well. The E/M emitter works just as well on the second cell, but this time, Colossus simply tears the door off its hinges. Inside they find a small man, his clothes in tatters with some sort of metal binders completely covering his hands. Logan looks at the pair of humans as one of them steps past Colossus who has Darkholme draped over his shoulder. Weapon X: Let me guess, you're Luke Skywalker and you're here to rescue me. Barton: I like you already. Colossus: Weapon X, are you injured? Weapon X: Not anymore. Gryich steps in from the hall. Gryich: Let's move it people, we got company! The party races down the hall away from the destruction that accompanied Barton and Gryich's entrance. Weapon X: You guys better have a way outta this! Barton pauses to switch back to his sub-machine gun. Barton: Would you like it better in your cell, your highness? Gryich: Clint, you're carrying this a bit too far. The cell block door opens before the escapees can reach it. A battered Senyaka and five heavily armored guards run through. Weapon X howls in anger and extends his claws. He leaps ahead of his comrades and slams into the startled Lt. prelate. Senyaka's psionic whip snaps out, coiling itself around Logan's right forearm, Barton can hear the skin sizzle as it burns. Logan slashes with his left hand, severing the whip. The backlash momentarily stuns the prelate. Not giving him a second's breath, Logan's right hand, the remnant of the whip still wrapped around it, slams into the prelates body with a loud thud. Senyaka hisses an expiring breath as he sinks to his knees and dies. Barton: Holy ginsu! Do you come with a free orange juicer, too? Weapon X: Nope. Just a couple hundred pounds of pure mean! He howls in rage and slams into the five guards, cutting them to pieces. Gryich: We've got ta get up to Level 7 for extraction! The two humans lead the three mutants through a maze of stairways and elevators, always moving upward. Always fighting for every step. Barton opens the door to the roof and sees the perimeter Wisdom has established. Only the Englishman and two commandoes are left to protect their liberated charge, Simon Williams. They crouch behind the cover of a low force field and assualt rifle fire and hot knives strive to keep the encroaching guards at bay. Wisdom sees them coming and keys his comlink as the X Men and their rescuers fight their way through the startled guards and dive over the force field. Wisdom yells at Barton as soon as the bowman is back on his feet. Wisdom: Reset the grid gun! Barton crawls under the hail of bullets to an advanced looking machine gun resting on its tripod. He swings it toward the advancing soldiers and punches a series of buttons on the keypad attached to the tripod. Another lattice-work of lasers illuminate the area before besieged infiltrators. Once its targets are plotted, the grid gun swivels on its own, automatically aiming and then firing on the now retreating troops. Weapon X: That's quite the toy. Colossus turns to a battered Simon Williams. The human is cowering underneath the force field, visibly shaking as bullets streak over head. Colossus: Are you okay, tovarisch? Williams: F-fine! Fine! Colossus smiles and gives the timid weapons maker a pat on the back. A soft humming heard over the cacophony of battle causes Logan to look heavenward. His mutant-enhanced vision sees the swiftly advancing helicopter before any of his comrades. Weapon X: Company coming from above! Wisdom: About bloody time! The state of the art helicopter adds its own formidable arsenal to the beleaguered commandoes and X Men. Barton: Yeehaaw! Calvary is here. The helicopter hovers a few feet above the would be escapees and they all clamor aboard. Then it is off again, burying the sec teams below in a barrage of fire. Weapon X looks up to the cockpit and recognizes the pilot. Logan: Carol? Carol: Hey, Logan, what's shakin' babe? As Carol Danvers veers the helicopter southward, a second chopper suddenly rises from its heli-pad on a nearby tower. It is fast enough to avoid the weapons Danvers employs in an attempt to destroy it. Danvers: We got trouble! I can't hit it! Barton strings his bow yet again and as the attacking helicopter vectors in to take its shot, fires his adamantium tipped arrow. Of course, it flies true. The adamantium tip shatters the enemy's windshield and then the explosive shaft detonates. The Provisional helicopter falls, a fiery ruin. Gryich: Heck of a shot, Clint! Colossus is awestruck at the skill it took to make that shot. Piotr turns to Barton: You have a hawk's eye, my friend. Gryich smiles: Hawkeye, I like it. Barton turns to him: Don't even go there, Gryich. The escaping helicopter veers south, activating its stealth field. Combined with the black paint and the Stark-designed whisper of its rotor, the aircraft is virtually invisible on this dark night. An hour passes, then another. Soon, the dimmed lights of Kiev come into view. Logan: No additional pursuit. That was almost too easy. Gryich: Barton, if you say "They let us go, it's the only explanation for the easy of our escape", I'm gonna throw you outta this chopper! Barton smiles: Easy! Ya call that easy!?! Back in Leningrad, Prelate Cyber is allowed entrance into the private study of his master, Horseman Nicodemus. Cyber: My lord, scouts report the humans and the X Men have just entered Ukrainian airspace. Nicodemus: Excellent! Those X Men have fulfilled their purpose to the utmost. Cyber: Purpose, sir? Nicodemus: Bait, my dear prelate. Bait. No leave me. I just received word from New York that Project Scimitar is completed. We receive our first shipment in the next few days and I must ponder where we will hide them until the appropriate time. Prelate Cyber leaves. Had he turned around before closing the door, he would have seen a phenomenon not witnessed by the world in over three hundred years: the smile of eternal Nicodemus.