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"In that case, you, Reed and Jean will get to work on that aspect the moment the battle commences. We'll need to alter the minds of literally everyone in the system who knows about 'those strange human creatures that the Emperor called in'."
"Luckily, the Emperor's ego is going to work for us there, according to Deathbird," Jean added, seeing some concern on the faces of the people around.
"D'ken did not desire knowledge of our involvement against Galactus to spread, since it could be seen as a sign of weakness even within the Empire. So D'ken actually shut down all normal travel between the home system and anywhere else for a time and has forbidden knowledge of you to spread with a blanket communications blackout on mentioning us. According to Deathbird, it has kept knowledge of our involvement to military forces that were involved in our battle against Galactus, all of whom will be coming with us to the home planet, and the rest of the home system."
"Wait, is that actually possible?" Alex scoffed, joined in this disbelief by many of the others. "There's no way that kind of thing would stick among humans, not for any length of time anyway. And you're telling me all his subjects in the home system agreed to not spread the news, not even the criminal element?"
"Remember that most civilian-style ships wouldn't have been able to see us anyway, and that any attempt to flee the system until the Emperor rescinded his order would most likely be destroyed." Ororo explained. "And do not equate the Shi'ar with humanity. Even at our worst humanity has never been as rigidly Imperial as the Shi'ar. Further, I would wager their laws are equally draconian. So while there is organized crime and corruption and so on, even the most greedy would not go against an Imperial command. I have no doubt such a system would still crack eventually, but nowhere as quickly as it would for humans."
"So instead of having to worry about a whole lota trillions, we just have to worry about billions. That's a load off my mind," Ben added dryly, rolling his head. "You and Stretcho both think big, don't cha?"
He was correct, though. The capital system of the Shi'ar was easily the busiest star system that any of the humans could ever imagine. Beyond the planets themselves, one ecumenopolis and two mostly agrarian. There were hundreds of orbital stations, both defensive and mercantile in nature, around those planets and the two gas giants. The Home Fleet, which was by definition the largest fleet the Shi'ar had, and thousands of civilian and commercial vehicles moving about in space.
Worse, while Steven, Harry, Ororo, and Hela had all learned an area of effect type of Obliviate spell, there was a limit to how minds each casting spell could impact at once. Harry believed they could overpower the spell to a truly insane degree, well beyond what the creator of the spell had ever envisioned, but wasn't certain how much so. Thus, while the virus did its work on the computer side of things, spreading throughout the Empire, the spellcasters would have to first experiment, then enchant the entire system in lumps.
It was not going to be fun, and none of the four spellcasters looked forward to it. But to keep the secret of humanity's involvement with the Shi'ar and Earth's location, they would do so. Luckily, Jean was pretty certain she could knock out several million people at once with her telepathic powers. After that, keeping them out while Harry and the magic users created their enchantment would be easy enough.
"So what is the plan, boss?" James asked, leaning his large frame back into an equally large chair.
"Jean and Reed will remain with the ship, along with Amara to start with. Steven, you'll start work on the illusion and discretely influencing minds as soon as the battle begins, starting from the system's outer edge and working your way in. Reed, you will start to invade the local communications systems, get a jump on deleting the information about Earth and us. The rest of us will deal with the Imperial Guard and D'ken personally, with Amara ready to shake things up right away."
Amara smiled at that, nodding and not saying anything as Ororo spoke up. "Remember, they don't know about the full breadth of my healing spells. We told Deathbird we were still dealing with injured, so perhaps we should leave Alex or Banshee on the ship. Whichever of you is the worst actor, perhaps," she finished drolly.
"Well, seein' as this boyo's done undercover work for Interpol more than most, I'd say I'm the one to come to the dance," Banshee joked. "Let Alex stay with the ship."
Alex looked as if he was going to explode in rage at the very idea, but Jean spoke up before he could, squeezing Ororo's hand as she looked around at the others. "Ororo's right. We don't want to seem too strong. Or else D'ken might do something we aren't expecting."
"What, like agreeing to leave us alone?" Banshee asked somewhat hopefully. While he knew Alex had a personal bone to settle with the Emperor, The Irish mutant had seen enough fighting against Morg to last him for years and had no desire to fight the Imperial Guard again, especially in the numbers that would no doubt be brought against them this time.
"Doubtful," said every one of Harry's lovers and himself, followed a instant later by Nightside. After a round of laughter at that, Harry waved the others to silence, looking over at Nightside for her opinion.
Nodding Harry's way, Nightside began. "You all have only interacted with the Emperor for a few hours. I've spent several years in his presence, and he is not one to let any slight or moment of lese-majeste go unpunished. There is no chance of him letting you all go. He might let you go for now if the various drugs and everything else he's preparing doesn't work, but that just means he'll come after you later, and maybe against your home planet at the same time."
Harry had told everyone about what Jean and found in Deathbird's mind for the upcoming plan against them, and it had hardened everyone's views against the Emperor and the Empire itself.
"Exactly. Indeed, the more intelligent thing is to continue on as if we are still dealing with wounded."
"That's fine and all, but I am going to be part of this fight from the get-go! I have a familial score to settle with D'ken. He's mine! That fucker forced my mom to become a harem girl, then killed her when my dad tried to save her. He has to pay!" Alex growled, having gotten his temper under control but still wanting to be clear on this point.
Hela smiled in approval, understanding the calling of just vengeance as she did, as did Harry, although Ororo was a little worried about the idea of Alex's personal involvement in that aspect of the fight. But Harry caught her eyes and shook his head, indicating without words that he approved. He then turned back to Alex, his face stern. "That means you'll have to be visibly wounded. A lot of the Imperial Guard who survived the fight against Morg saw you get wounded, you and Banshee."
"Some kind of illusion then? Although I am uncertain how well something like that would stand up to the jostling and crowded conditions of a royal party," Steven suggested, shaking his head wryly.
That caused the Ororo to laugh quietly, shaking her head as she set aside her concerns for the young man's mental state for now. "We won't need any fancy illusion for that kind of thing. Everyone else looked at her quizzically, and Ororo smiled, her pale blue eyes flashing with humor. "You forget that before I found myself on the Serengeti Plains, I was a street urchin in Cairo. And while I was a thief, I still had to deal with thieves of other sorts. Including cripples who were anything but. I can show you a few tricks on how to hide the fact your foot works, so long as someone else can provide a crutch and a fake stump."
"And me, Miss?" Banshee volunteered himself, looking intrigued, his earlier concerns fading thanks to Nightside's earlier words. If this was going to happen anyway, he saw no need to argue further, and anything that kept Shi'ar away from Earth was a good thing in his mind. I've got a daughter to see to after all.
"Faking an arm is somewhat harder, especially the side of the amputation in question, but certainly doable. I will warn you it can be somewhat painful for someone who isn't flexible enough, however," Ororo warned. "You'll have to practice operating with only one arm over the next few days. Obeying instincts is the easiest way to give the game away."
Harry snorted at the scowls on both budding thespian's faces before he looked over at James Proudstar. "James, you can basically be put in a full-body cast. I've no doubt that the surviving Imperial Guard also saw you getting injured too. Ben?"
Ben shrugged his shoulders, tapping his rocky chest, creating a dull sound of rock clattering against rock. "Thanks to my rocky form, I'm able to keep on going even from pretty bad injuries. I don't think any of them realized that I was injured. So I don't think faking an injury in my case would work." Indeed, Ben had taken a pounding against Morg, but despite breaking a few bones, he hadn't slowed down at all.
The meeting continued, the group discussing various contingencies, what kind of enemies they might be facing, how many and so forth, including the rules of engagement for the two Imperial sisters and the bystanders. The bystanders would have to fend for themselves. As for the royal sisters, there Hela decided they wanted to be a bit tricky, adding even more chaos into the pot.
"If we are going to not only release the computer virus but also create a civil war, we need them both alive," Hela declared firmly. "Able to pull what resources they can to one side or another and then waste those resources fighting one another."
"There's no chance of them working together when the virus hits? I mean, they are sisters, after all," James questioned, not having been privy to the impressions Thundra and Hela had made or most of what Jean had found in Deathbird's mind. The others were also looking concerned.
"Deathbird holds Lilandra in contempt. She would rather die than work with Lilandra on anything but keeping D'ken's paranoia and vices in check. Indeed, Deathbird has as many dreams about killing Lilandra as she does D'ken," Jean supplied. "On the other side of the ledger, from what we saw of her, maybe Lilandra would think up the idea of working together, but if she 'knows' that Deathbird was the one who killed their brother, that will be a long time coming."
Nodding, Harry clapped his hands, then waved them at everyone as if shooing them away. "Regardless, I think we've all planned as much as we can at this point. Get back to bed and keep on resting. You're all on break until we arrive in the Shi'ar home system. I want everyone in top shape for this. I'll see you all in the morning."
He watched as everyone nodded, then turned, telling his lovers, "I'm going to take a shower and turn in myself. I haven't been able to have one yet, and I am feeling bloody dirty right now and not in a good way."
While Harry might well have wished to just sleep that night, Jean and Ororo had a different idea.
About two hours later, as Harry laid out in bed, the suite's bathroom door opened. Harry's eyes widened as most much of his blood began to flow south, his heart beating wildly in his chest as Jean and Ororo stood there, wearing perhaps the sexiest bits of lingerie that Harry had ever seen.
For Jean, this was sheer, crotchless black panties. This was paired with a fishnet half-body suit that covered her from her bellybutton upwards to her neck. It gave no support to her chest, but Jean's breasts needed no such aid anyway. Instead, it seemed to highlight and add to the sight of her bare breasts and body underneath in a way that was startlingly arousing.
Ororo too had gone for fishnet, but in her case, the body suit was designed to look almost like a one-piece bathing suit, although Harry doubted it could be used as such, especially not paired with the stockings and garters she also wore. Both portions of Ororo's outfit were white, contrasting intensely with her dark caramel-colored skin.
"W, what's the occasion, ladies," he whispered throatily, his erection already making a tent in the bed covers, as they made their way over to the bed, their hips swaying hypnotically, the crotchless panties that Jean was wearing drawing his eyes, as the garter and stocking arrangement that Ororo was wearing did the same thing to her. Who knew that fishnet could make such an impact!?
"Well, you see, Harry, while I understand why you have to be the one to make the decision, that doesn't mean you need to take all the burden on yourself, whatever happens. Ororo and I wanted to show that we love you, and leave it at that," Jean whispered, kissing Harry hard on the lips. When he lifted his hands to hug her, Jean moved away quickly, breaking the kiss and moving down his body, pulling the covers of the bed off with her. "You just sit back and relax. This time, we're going to take care of you…"
In the next room, Hela smirked, shaking her head as she enjoyed a glass of wine and an extremely tawdry romance novel as the noises from next door washed over her, causing bits to tingle. Though it pains me to think it, I think that Harry had a point when he made that joke about our courtship at my expense. It is past time for our courtship to come to a close. Although I am still determined to come to the marriage bed unsullied. Odin and Freya damn all pride.
OOOOOOO
Several days had passed since her last meeting with the Russians, and Emma had been pleased by the results of that meeting. While she had gone into it assuming political chicanery was the cause of the information Sage had turned up, discovering it wasn't and ousting a long standing criminal organization had been just as good. Better, the Duma had moved rapidly, bringing in Sputnik and a few surviving Crimson Dynamo units to first find and then lead the physical assaults on various mafia holdouts. In return, work on the first of the Arc reactors to be placed inside the Russian tunnel systems to power their hidden infrastructure had begun.
News on the Weapon X front was also good. Several young mutants and soldiers who had been listed as MIA had been discovered in the raid, although few had lived to be rescued, Marcus's orders having been followed all-too eagerly by the soldiers in the building. But despite that, generally speaking the public was reacting with horror and disgust at the very idea of men and women being experimented on like that. The CIA director's removal had followed, as had placing Dum Dum Duggan in charge instead.
I am glade President decided on him for the position. He's a man of streetwise integrity, as it were, and has a bulldog's determination. Better, Duggan will be respected across the board and has some experience in trying to create a unit of power armor thanks to working with Tony Stark before this. I still think getting Tony Stark aboard is rather too much like setting a tub of ice cream in front of a child you've just put on a diet, but that is not my problem.
No, the best thing is that soon Russia will be turning out missiles and weapons parts for the EDF, and work on the last of the captured Kree ships, the renamed Warspite, will be finished in five days or so. Yes, Emma mused, it has been a good week.
She stood up from her desk in Frost Industries, having spent most of the day working on various dealing within her own holdings, smiling faintly as she stared out the window. Not as good as it would be if Harry, Jean, and the others were back, or if I even knew how they were faring. But I can't do anything about that, blast it. Still, they should be back in another week, I can wait. I have to, after all.
Shaking off those maudlin thoughts, Emma waited until her computer shut down, then began to get ready to leave for the day, smiling slightly as she stared out over what she could see of New York City's skyline. Hmm… should I head to Camelot after I get back home? The house elves always have leftovers from dinner, MJ and Sage are in Magical Minds tonight, and my sister is not going to be good company right now. But Dani and the others might…
Emma's thoughts broke off as someone knocked on her office door, and her brows furrowed in annoyance as her secretary entered. "Yes, Hans?"
"Sorry Miss, but there's someone at the front desk who says he wishes to speak to you. He has a Hellfire Club card, and your standing orders are…"
"Yes, I know." Emma's frown deepened, wondering who among the Hellfire Club would come here to talk to her. Most of them would wait until she was at the club itself and actively looking for them. Someone lower-ranked coming to see the White Queen, after all, was not done in Hellfire Club circles. Someone facing financial disaster perhaps? Or something along those lines, something time sensitive. Regardless, she sighed, then nodded gesturing the man. "Once the card has passed its security check, you can have security pass them through. I'll meet with them here."
The cards of the Hellfire Club had a series of security measures on them that made the cards unusable by anyone not of the club itself. And anyone trying to use them without permission… well, the Hellfire Club might be a legitimate business, but that didn't mean the club was lacking in people willing to break legs or bury the unwary in the nearest body of water.
Instantly upon the man's entrance, Emma knew that this man was indeed a member of the Hellfire Club, and why the clandestine, illegal side of the club had sprung to mind just now. Emma had seen him a few times in the club, but she didn't know his name offhand, only the name he went as at the club, and the fact he was known as a mover and shaker on the illegal side of things. "You would be the Silver Sable?"
"Silver Fox actually, but close enough given we have never been introduced Miss Frost," the man replied, taking off an old-fashioned fedora, which matched his coat perfectly, it being somewhat chilly today. He made no move to remove his coat, which gave Emma some hope this meeting wouldn't be overlong and she gestured him into a chair in front of her desk.
"In that case, what can I do for you Mr. Fox?" she asked, a tiny, wry twist to her lips.
The older man smiled. He was rake-thin with a very elderly, wrinkled face and gray hair. In many ways he looked like an affable grandfather. But there were scars on his hands, and what looked like some kind of silver body armor under his coat. Combine with a certain hardness of the eyes, it gave the impression that this was not someone to cross.
But that was fine by Emma. After all, the same could be said for her.
"That is actually a nickname more than anything else. I am here as the spokesman of the united crime syndicates called the Maggia. Call it a, well the equivalent of the Hellfire Club, but purely for criminals, and with no equivalent of the Club's Royal Table. After all, what criminal organization would allow another to assume such a position, hmm?"
"That is an actionable admission of guilt, you know," Emma said, keeping her face set in the same cool, wry look as before, while mentally, she prepared her telepathic powers. A mental whisper also warned Sandman of trouble. If this man thinks to catch me unaware, he is grossly mistaken.
At the same time, she reached forwards with her telepathic powers, reaching into the man's mind. What she found, astonished her. The armor under his clothing was not, in fact armor at all, but a sign of the man's cyborg body. His mind was partly organic, and partly computer, predominantly the portion that dealt with memory. Damn, there goes any chance of me simply shutting him down and then pouring over his mind for what he knows. Well, it was just a thought anyway. I will still be able to tell if he is lying or not, as well as his emotions.
"Please miss Frost," the older man shook his head in amusement. "You are not a government agent or a policeman, you are a businesswoman. Who, further, owns companies who have acted at times well beyond what is allowed by law? We both know how this game is played."
"I will neither confirm nor deny that," Emma retorted, and the man laughed.
At that point her bodyguard ducked his head in, asking, "Boss, most of the workers are heading off. Do you want me to get anything, or can I start warming up the limo?"
"Wait a moment on that Flint," Emma answered. "Although I doubt I'll be long."
Sandman nodded and moved away from the door.
"That was subtle," the silver fox said with a smile. "I didn't even see you signal him. It's always nice to deal with someone who has a sense of style about these things."
"Thank you. But to get back to the reason for your visit, if you expect to be able to threaten me, in any way shape or form I would require you to think again. I did not become the White Queen of the Hellfire Club through lack of willpower. Nor through any unwillingness to get my hands dirty," Emma drawled.
"Oh, I know," the older man chuckled. "And you, and Magical Minds and Harry Potter, have been very good for the world. And when businesses profit, so too does the underworld. But not everyone in our little group believes that is the case. You have been making waves recently. Specifically, the execution of the Kingpin. Jumped up bully that he was, he was by far the biggest fish in the pond. And even more recently, you gave the Russian government enough information to help shut down what has so far amounted to two-thirds of the Russian mafia. The men and women who have been able to escape from that organization are not happy with you, to put it mildly."
"I have never heard of the Kingpin, nor do I understand why you would blame the Custodes Mundi for his death. And even if the Custodes Mundi had somehow been involved, I am not part of Potter's action teams as it were. I am simply a business partner, that is all."
"If you wish to say it I suppose I will allow that bit of fiction," Silver Fox chuckled once more. "However, I came here as a… politeness, I suppose. I knew your father, and he always knew how the game was played. There will always be crime, but so long as crime is organized, and does not become obvious, does not bother the governments of the world and are not open about our activities, we are allowed to keep going our way. And part of that performance these days is pushed by the need to have superpowered individuals on our payrolls. Many of them are not… gentlemen… no matter how hard I could stretch the term. But they are a necessity."
"If you think that mentioning my father to me will get you on my good side, I must disabuse you," Emma said, her tone noticeably chillier as she shook her head. "While I mourn his passing, he and I were not close. As for the rest of your statement, I take it that the EDF's recent workings have infuriated these non-gentlemen? If so, why are you here?"
"I am here to give a warning. My fellows believe that I am here to demand payment for leaving you alone. Greed in our line of work is a necessity, and often brings with it a certain amount of ego, and before you take umbrage, no, I do not think we will ever be able to coerce you into paying protection money. I am an old man, with little time remaining to me, and I do not wish to waste any of it on such stupidities. Besides," the man's smile turned grim. "I would wager that if someone were stupid enough to push you, your response will be rather biblical. Wherein I will be waiting to step in and pick up the pieces. As I said, there is always crime, so it might as well be organized crime."
"So you are here to warn me, and then assume because of that I will let you and your holdings alone," Emma's lips twitched in what only the truly charitable could call a smile. "The word chutzpah comes strongly to mind."
"Hahaha, perhaps. I tend to believe I am a very good judge of character, and I have watched the movements of Magical Minds, and of your own Frost Industries closely. Coming from a man who is used to moving in the shadows, that has not been easy at all, and much of my knowledge is supposition. But I believe I know well enough how you all deal with threats." He waited, locking gazes with Emma. "I do not wish to be a friend, that is too much, and you would not trust such. Rather, I would like to feast upon other carrion who attempt to act beyond their station."
Emma frowned internally while her face remained its normal cold, unemotional mask, feeling the emotions of the man in front of her. It was good to know that her own mutant status was still a secret, it was one of her greatest assets. But Silver Fox had still discovered more than most in the business community knew. And he is letting me know that too. Even carrion can be dangerous if they know when to strike. But he is also smart enough to know that he would not survive the experience. Fine. Like Harry did with the Mandarin, I can accept that here.
"I of course cannot confirm that I have any such close affiliation to the EDF. But if you are here to give me a warning, do you have any specific, actionable information, or are you just giving me generalities."
"The Russian mafia in particular are annoyed with you and are joining with a young man who has been making waves here in New York. You might have heard of the gangster, Hammerhead?" When Emma nodded, Silver Fox went on. "They cannot strike at Diamond or the one known as Sage directly. Diamond is a near nonentity, her features invisible to all recording devices, her voice and face never staying in the minds of those who meet her. Sage never leaves Magical Minds headquarters except for extremely well-defended meetings elsewhere. That only leaves you, an ally of the EDF, and further, one that is not directly connected to any government."
Silver Fox shrugged, his entire attitude showing a certain contempt and amused condescension. "So they will attack you personally sometime soon. When I do not know, but it will be soon. The young are always so quick to act, even when doing so is perhaps the worst thing they could do."
"I see." Emma still didn't let her face react to that, but it did make sense, even as she was annoyed that, from what she was reading in his mind, Silver Fox didn't know any more than that. Emma's alter-persona as Diamond was indeed entirely different from her personality as Emma Frost, despite how closely Frost Industries was now aligned with Magical Minds and the EDF. That distance had served them very well in the buildup to the creation of the EDF, Avalon, and the rest of Harry's holdings. But now Emma was in danger due to that separation. Although that distance isn't nearly as far as people might think. Hmm… so the question is, should I attempt to avoid being attacked, or should I try to encourage it…
"Well, I suppose that all makes some sense, if these felonious types were truly acting in such a manner," she mused. "And if they do perform this heinous act, know that we will indeed do what we have to. Within the bounds of the law, of course."
Silver Fox nodded and stood, smiling affably. "Of course. Have a good day, Ms. Frost."
Emma smiled and stood, walking the man through the offices to the elevators, bidding him farewell there, before turning to look over at the Sandman. "You listened in?"
In reply, Sandman lifted his hand, several fingers having grown into sand extensions up into the air conditioner, and along it to her office. "That guy's playing two different games here."
"Oh definitely. Time for us to head home, I think, and quickly. If there is an attack coming, I would like to face it the position of strength rather than weakness. And from now on, you and some of the other bodyguards can take the limo in, I will start using other means of transport. Perhaps Kitty can install a runic doorway here in the offices as well as at the mansion," Emma mused.
Unlike the mansion, the Frost Industries building had yet to be upgraded to Magical Minds standard, and while she had a four-man guard detail here to back up Sandman, the actual security of the building was suspect.
"I called Firestar in, she should be arriving on the roof shortly. I've also got the security teams grabbing some of the building's security people, they'll be using the other limos we've got stored here as decoys," Sandman reported. He'd taken a few tests and passed a few exams made by Emma's chief security officer and had come through them very well. "Should we wait here or…"
Emma shook her head firmly. "No. These mafia types might not attack a building like this in broad daylight, not unless they have to, but I don't want to chance anything like a bomb."
"Good thinking ma'am. Especially since the Rhino was broken out of prison a few days ago," Sandman said, shaking his head. "I don't know what that hothead'll do, but from what I remember he's Russian and tied to their mafia, so it's a good guess he might be involved. And if I have to throw down with him, I don't want to do it in a building."
At that moment the elevator dinged, and Angelica walked off the elevator before pausing, the crimson haired girl looking at them both quizzically. "What's up?"
Over the next ten minutes, several limos, all the same type as the one Emma routinely used, left the building in different directions. Each of them had two of Emma's security team on hand, bolstered by men from the building's own security guard. They weren't nearly as well trained as Emma could wish, but they could at least drive the cars.
Among them, Emma, Sandman, one security man, and Firestar also left. They did not go straight home, instead moving around the city for a bit, then leaving as if heading down towards Pennsylvania before pulling off and turning back heading for home. This added an hour to the trip but should have fooled any attackers. And indeed, the security man reported that they had thrown off at least two cars who had attempted to trail them.
The other limos reported similar things and one of them had even been attacked by the Rhino, only for Spider Man to interfere. The back of the limo had been totaled, and the two men in the front had vacated it quickly, letting the Rhino use the rest as a weapon to try and beat Spider-man into submission, possibly forgetting his reason for attacking the limo in the first place.
For all of her willpower and preparedness, Emma was still human. Having almost reached home, Emma had allowed herself to relax, as had Sandman in his position in the front of the car, while Angelica had leaned back reading a fashion magazine. She had forgotten that, as many limos as she had sent out, there was only one road which led to her mansion.
The limo paused at the red light which, if you turned right, would let you head towards the Frost mansion and a few other, similarly sized properties. And from below the limo, there was a click.
"BOOOOOM!" The bomb placed under the road exploded upwards, shattering concrete and hurling the car into the air. It fell into a bed of sand hastily made by Sandman, but even that wasn't exactly a soft landing.
Emma had barely a flash of pain before she and Firestar were thrown around the car. Sandman had instantly turned into sand the instant the explosion went off, but the driver was dead, his head smashed in as the top of the car crashed down front first. As the limo rocked back onto its roof, Firestar and Emma were thrown against each other and against the side.
Emma somehow found the glass she had been drinking ginger-ale from caught between the side of her head and the side of the limo. It shattered, cutting her face superficially and spreading sticky soda into her eye and hair, while she felt something in her shoulder break. At the same time, Firestar had smashed her head against the top of the limo.
Thankfully, the limo had actually remained in one piece despite the size of the explosion. The metal of the limo was made of military-grade steel after all and had included a steel bottom plate to protect the undercarriage.
Now Emma groggily pushed some of this blood out of her eyes, wincing at the pain, while Firestar clenched her hands, fire igniting from them, with which she began to burn her way out of the mangled side of the limo. "Be careful, keep up your flame aura entirely," Emma ground out, as she closed her eyes and began to use her telepathic senses, reaching out as she slowly shunted aside the pain of the crack to her skull she had taken.
This is the last fucking time I travel anywhere in the normal way, I swear to fucking god. Why do people keep attacking me when I'm driving, honestly?! "There's bound to be a second part to this trap."
Their attackers were easy to find. Twelve men were hiding inside a nearby house, and Emma made a note to send around someone for the owners of the house, who she could tell were tied up and very, very scared, but largely in one piece. The father of the house, or perhaps the son she didn't take the time to make certain, was injured, but still alive, and the women had not been molested. That was all Emma could tell at the moment, and she warned Sandman. "Twelve men in the house on the left, they seemed to be armed with some kind of weapon they think will deal with you.
Feeling Sandman acknowledge that, Emma reached out further even as several large caliber bullets began to pepper the wreckage around her. It was some kind of bullet that she hadn't seen before which slammed into and almost through the car's armor, not like the gauss rifles of the EDF and Custodes, but quite powerful despite that. Perhaps a Barrett or something similar? Closer in, Emma could detect another car racing towards them with six more attackers inside it, their violent thoughts easy to discover, unlike the man with the long range gun, whose mind was somehow slippery to the touch.
"Ten men in the house on the corner to our right, six more attackers coming in from a car to our left. One of them seems to be the leader," Emma reported, then frowned. "More attackers incoming, two news helicopters just turned and are making for this position, but they are not coming to record the news. And there's a sniper out there with a very powerful gun. I'm going to concentrate on him, he seems to be the most dangerous."
Sandman was already taking fire from the men in the house, regular bullets for now which passed through him doing no damage as he created a thick dome of hardened sand around the vehicle to defend Firestar and Emma. Just as he finished, several of the men inside the house raced out thrusting some kind of large-barreled gun over the top of the house's stone fence.
The guns looked almost like super soakers and true to that look they sprayed out some kind of substance, impacting Sandman's outstretched arm as he turned, punching out towards them with a hand that now resembled a mace.
When the substance hit, it adhered to Sandman's sand, freezing everything in touched. Instantly Sandman lost control of those portion of his sand form, causing him to fall back. But one foot stamped down on the ground, his sand grinding against and into the concrete in order to turn it into more sand. This worked quickly, allowing Sandman to pull himself out from the glued portions. But more of the men in the house came forward, shooting him with the glue guns, keeping him busy, while the shooter kept on firing into his globe of sand.
That left Firestar free to act, while Emma contacted the Custodes Mundi and requested clandestine assistance. It would take them a few minutes to arrive, though.
Firestar burst out from the top of it, growling in anger as she began to lob down fireballs at the attackers. The men in the car barely had a second to scream before the front of their car was slagged, her thermo-concussive blast tearing through the engine so fast it didn't even have a chance to explode in reaction to the heat of it. But then she had to duck aside as three more shooters opened up on her, having completely forgotten to create an aura around herself.
But Emma was in communication with her now and had warned her the attack was coming, while the telepath had also lashed out, knocking one of the attackers unconscious and convincing the other to shoot at some of his allies. Not much really, but Emma was both concussed, and concentrating her attempts to shut down the sniper. Without much success, Emma was having severe problems trying to grasp the man's mind. It's almost as if he has some kind of mental defense, but not quite. Could it be an artificial defense in some way?
The next second, another fireball flashed down, incinerating several of the glue-gun users. Immediately a battering ram of sand slammed through the wall into one of the others, cracking ribs and hurling him backwards almost bent in half all over himself.
Nor was all this going on unseen by the locals. Screams and shouts began from the nearby houses, and the rest of Emma's security team began to rush out of their house. However, they didn't go far before the two helicopters Emma had detected raked the gateway to the mansion with weapons fire. The mansion's defenders instantly returned fire, and Emma was certain that those attacking her mansion were going to regret it.
Yet at the same time Emma was concentrating on trying to get into the sniper's mind, and having trouble doing so. He kept on firing, finally penetrated the outer edge of Sandman's sand barrier. An explosion rang out, his bullets seemingly exploding now after penetrating, creating a hole in the sand. And an instant later, the next round followed on the same exact trajectory. This round penetrated the limo, although the armor did deaden much of its velocity and changed its course. The bullet then ricocheted around the interior of the limo before slamming into Emma's stomach.
"AGGH!" Emma gasped, her mental connections to Firestar, Sandman, and the Custodes ready force led by Ghigau collapsed into agony.
Agony, pain unlike anything she had ever felt before shot through Emma, overwhelming her mind in a way her earlier wounds had not, but she started to push through it almost at once. I've been gut shot! she screamed internally. Those are normally fatal, even if we were right outside of the hospital my odds… I'm dying… I'm dying, and Harry isn't here to help. None of them are. She thought, I know I insisted on even Ororo going with them, but this is rather harsh irony…
But after that momentary sense of panic, Emma's cool mental control came back to her. Fine, no one else is going to be able to help me here. So I will have to help myself.
Pushing through the pain, Emma gathered her telepathic powers and shut down the pain receptors in her own mind. It wasn't easy through the agony, but Emma was used to manipulating a body's perception of pain since flaring another's pain receptors telepathically was one of her favorite tricks. Meanwhile, her hands had been busy, staunching the wound as best she could, tearing up her skirt to use as bandages for a moment.
And as she did so, her mind continued working busily, her thoughts now clear and concise once more. Jean, Harry, and I had a discussion on this point. The difference between telepathy and telekinesis. The difference between the mind and the world around it. And in this case it's an even thinner margin of difference, since I don't want to affect the world, just myself.
Then, she started to focus inwards, trying to bridge the gap between the telepathic, the mind, and the body beyond. Jean said I might have a latent telekinetic power, now is the time to discover if that's the case, she thought, her fingers scrabbling against the leather of her chair as blood continued to pulse out of the wound. Remove the bullet, and, and then heal the wound… remove the bullet, take control of the thing, and just…
It was hard. The hardest thing that Emma had ever tried. At first, there was nothing there, her telepathic powers were just… slipping off and around, not finding anything to push against and impact, simply delving deeper into Emma's mind. Again and again she tried to narrow her focus, to keep the image of what she wanted to happen in her mind, to impose it on the reality of her wound. Again and again she failed, but desperation and sheer willpower kept her at it as milliseconds turned into minutes, and then finally, she felt it, a wall in front of her telepathic powers.
Pushing through it was hard, but Emma had no choice, it was do or die, and Emma refused to die like this. She pushed harder and harder, bearing down with all her significant willpower and expertise, and finally, finally she felt it. Through the pulsing of her heartbeat and the echoes of pain still impacting her body, Emma felt the bullet move. And then, despite the pain, Emma Frost grinned a bloody grin.
Outside, Sandman had roared aloud in anger seeing his defensive work shattered and had shifted his attention to creating another. At the same time, Firestar went after the distant sniper. Her thermo-concussive attack exploded the top of the office building whose roof the man had been hiding on. She kept up the attack as the man appeared out of the fireball, racing from the burning building and firing up at Firestar with a rifle on full auto.
Her electromagnetic aura however, now on full blast, melted the bullets well before they could impact her body. This redirected them as she closed, a flare of light and fire ratcheting out towards him. He was a seemingly young man, mid-twenties, maybe early thirties, with coarse brown hair down to his shoulders and stubble of his face, but what was strange about him was that he had a silver arm.
Meanwhile, someone that Sandman had met before as a small time gangster had pushed out of the wreckage of the attacker's car that Firstar had destroyed. Now, while Sandman finished off two more of the glue-gun users, he raced towards Sandman shouting out, "So you really have gone straight Sandman, I didn't believe it when I heard it. How about this, a hundred million right now, to let us off the stupid bitch in the limo! That'll tell Potter and Diamond they don't fuck with La Costa Nostra."
Sandman reformed his head, pulling the arm he'd been using to deal with the attackers back to him while leaving the other in place for a second to keep creating another layer to the protective dome. "No chance Hammerhead. Miss Frost gave me a chance to go legit. I'm not going to waste it!"
"Damn shame man, you coulda been rich!" Hammerhead closed, his fists slamming into sand man's head, but Sandman didn't even flinch. Instead, his sand became soft, and two maces appeared out of his body, crashing into Hammerhead.
The next few blows came fast and furious, Sandman's body exploding all around him into spiked maces, crashing into Hammerhead from every angle. The gangster grimaced, realizing at last that the glue guns were not doing nearly enough to slow Sandman down. The glue guns had been a nasty surprise, but the gangsters hadn't used them as well as they could have. There was always enough of Sandman's body free in order to create more sand out of whatever stone was on hand.
Nearby, Emma's security had finished the fight with the circling helicopters, and now were rolling out with a full-bore US army-style APC towards the battle. But Sandman knew that guns wouldn't matter to Hammerhead, he had to put him down hard. This Sandman proceeded to do, holding Hammerhead from the legs down in sand, keeping him still and just raining down sand blows from every direction, trusting in his own ability to soak up damage to see him through the other man's return blows or the continuing fire from the house.
Elsewhere, Firestar barely dodged a grenade hurled towards her that would have exploded right in front of her face. Another round from the sniper's grenade launcher caught Firestar despite her best efforts, blinding her and throwing off her course so much that she crashed into a house nearby and tumbled to the ground. As she crash-landed, Firestar's aura flared up even more just in case the asshole continued to fire at her. But when she opened her eyes again, the young redhead wasn't surprised to see that the man had decided to run away instead.
But then, Emma's telepathic voice was once more echoing in her mind, directing Firestar back to the Emma where she had remained inside the protective wreckage of her vehicle. He just tore off a manhole and dropped into the sewers. Don't follow, we'll have Ghigau and her team do that, fall back to my position here.
"Emma, you're alright!? You, uh, you went off the air there for a moment," Firestar replied, worry tinging her mental tone.
"No, I'm not alright, not really. I can't create blood, and I am going to need a major blood transfusion," Emma answered weakly, her mental voice almost sounding soft and thready to Firestar . "But I think today was a success regardless."
"Successful how?" Firestar asked as she hovered next to the limo and began to cut a larger hole that she had already made out of the side of the wreckage. Sandman reached over with one hand, wrenching half of it off in order to let the medic from the security team have access to Emma.
At that point, Ghigau, Colossus, and Husk arrived, seemingly appearing from of nowhere as they came out of a magically cloaked shuttle. "Are you alright Emma!? Oh my god, Harry and the others are going to kill us for letting you get hurt!" Ghigau nearly whimpered as she interrupted whatever answer Emma might have given, her normal self-control gone seeing Emma with so much blood on her.
A mistake Harry had made when deciding on who to take with him was that he had taken the vast majority of his magic and flying people with him. Without them, transport reverted to shuttles if Lorna and Kitty were busy, which they usually were these days, mostly staying on Fortress Mars with Wanda. The runic doorways still worked of course, but that didn't help here.
"My fault. I should have called you lot in the minute I learned this might happen. Wanted t, to prove I was a big girl I guess, didn't need the Custodes to ride like the cavalry to my aid, st, stupid really. Although the payoff is kind of huge…heh," Emma chortled, then her eyes hardened, and she glared at Ghigau. "You. I'm going to have some orders for you soon enough. Don't bother heading back home just yet."
By the time they got back to the mansion, leaving Firestar and her chief security officer to see to the wounded among the attackers and talk to the police, Una had arrived from the castle and Emma swiftly found herself hooked up to an IV tube while resting in her bed. It was nice, but she was far too keyed up to rest as the doctor ordered.
So she was still awake when they returned. "Hammerhead is in custody and heading to prison. I have no doubt the federal government will want to offer him some kind of deal..." Firestar began.
"They won't have to." Emma smiled thinly. "I've already pulled out quite a bit from his mind, despite it being addled from Sandman's punches."
Nearby, Sandman grinned at his boss, shaking his head. "Am I supposed to apologize for that, boss lady?"
"No," she chuckled evilly. "No you're not. But, you have more than repaid my initial investment in you, Sandman, twice over now."
Sandman shrugged uncomfortably. "Ehh, I prefer to call it protecting my livelihood. After all, I doubt there are any others on this side of the law who'd be willing to give me a chance even after I've been guarding you for so long. But what now boss? I know you too well to think you are going to take this lying down."
"Indeed not, although technically I will be lying down for a few days. So I won't be doing anything but getting ready to be a little gloating and giddy in front of Harry and the others. And you, my bodyguard, get a well-earned vacation." She looked over at the waiting Dani, who had taken off her Ghigau helmet in the meantime.
"Danielle, you proved yourself already in independent action, and I can give you a very strong starting point with what I ripped out of Hammerhead's mind. I want that sniper dead or in custody, I don't care which, although I am curious why I had so much trouble finding his mind. And I want a message sent to organized crime. Evidently they haven't learned from Kingpin's example yet. They will do so now."
Sandman winced, knowing that her use of the word rip was very deliberate, and very descriptive too. His old gang leader and drinking buddy was now probably closer to a vegetable than a human being. Then again, I didn't exactly go easy on him either, he thought, with some amount of amusement.
"Take Piotr, he's been moping around High Note with Amara gone. And a few of the others, Including that giant dog of Hela's. No doubt he would like some walkies."
While Dani groaned at the joke, Sandman, who had once met Garm, only had one question. "Miss, do you always have to act as if you are wearing a hairy vest on the inside, or is that just because you got hurt?"
"Eh, I have to keep up with the others somehow," Emma said dryly, before giggling and looking down at her stomach. "Although, I don't think that's a problem anymore." So much for waiting for the scientists to isolate the age-recessive gene! If I can close a wound like that, what else can I do?
OOOOOOO
As the welcoming greeting from the Orbital Space Control finished, Harry nodded firmly over to Jean. "Get in touch with Nikolai but keep it short. No need to chance anything at this stage with Oracle."
"When the ambush happens, I'm going to deal with her first," Jean grumbled. "I dislike all this cloak and dagger stuff, especially on the telepathic level."
Harry chuckled at that, turning to the rest of the Custodes. The trip back to the Shi'ar capital system had been good for the group, letting everyone who needed it to get some rest, as well as practice their various roles. In turn, Harry and Steven had created the items that could help to protect them against anything poisonous or narcotic they could come in contact with via touch or their food.
For blocking out air-based assault, though, they had been forced to turn to science. Every charm that could defend against that kind of thing was visible to the naked eye and would give the game away. Reed had come up with a solution, a small, utterly invisible set of nose plugs which would filter out anything but, in Reed's words, "The appropriate mix of oxygen and other gases that we as humans require to sustain ourselves."
As he slipped his nose plugs in, Harry looked around at the others who would be taking part in this action. "We are on, ladies and gentlemen. Everyone to their places, get that makeup on and get everything else ready. Let's put on a show."
Warpath and Havok both laughed while Reed moved over to his own position in the bridge, with the others following after. Harry helped get Havok ready, while Ororo did the same with Banshee, and Warpath was very methodically wrapped up by Amara and Ben.
Jean saw none of that. She was too busy. First, Jean sent out a message to Nikolai below, finding his mind with some ease. The connection was as tenuous and as invisible as she could make it on the Astral Plane, but Jean still kept the connection short, just five words sent into Nikolai's mind, accompanied by a sense of urgency. "We're back. It's a go."
Nearby, Steven teleported outside the ship, covered by an illusion that made him look like the rest of the space around him as he waited for his own part in the battle to come. The spells he would need began to form in his mind as he moved out towards the edge of the system.
OOOOOOO
Near the Shi'ar's Imperial palace, Nikolai blinked awake as Jean's voice blared into his mind like a foghorn that had somehow connected to all of his synapses at once. Rolling out of his bedroll where he had been taking the opportunity to catch a nap as Morph was on watch, Nikolai kicked Psylocke's side. "Come on, up and at 'em. Time to do our part at last."
Psylocke nearly took his foot off with one of her T.K. blades, the pink energy blade appearing connected to her hand and wrist with incredible speed, but he ducked aside just in time to avoid it. "None of that now, luv," he quipped, making fun of her British accent, the type of which seemed to change over time.
The British woman glared up at him, shaking her head about, muttering with a Yorkshire accent how the "Ruddy Russian wannabe Captain America knockoff not even worth the price of a ruble," even as she scrambled upwards, grabbing up a packet of instant coffee nearby.
They had learned over the course of this mission that Psylocke was not a morning person and to interact with her before she had at least three cups of coffee was to court death. Regardless, she was still cognizant enough to look around at the others, while Nikolai feigned a wound to his heart at her almost unheard comment. He rather thought that he had stopped trying to be a Captain America knockoff several months ago, thank you.
E instantly came online, blinking his electronic eyes at them all. "I had anticipated our being contacted given the radio transmissions I have been intercepting mentioning the Long Voyager in orbit, but not our being given the go-ahead so quickly. Should we reopen communications with them? I would assume that Harry and the others would like to have some warning as to what they are running into."
Since the Emperor had decided to hold the victory gala outside, the infiltration team had seen most of the party's preparation as it was set up. And they had also seen the arrival of more than a hundred Imperial Guard of all sizes and types. They didn't know the exact nature of the coming ambush, but they knew it was there.
Psylocke shook her head. "I'm not strong enough to keep Oracle from detecting any telepathic communication I tried to send," she admitted. "I'm strong enough to protect us from her own probes and to hide us from her, but that's it. And Jean is going to be busy."
"Besides, you really think Harry and the others don't know that crown Emperor Moron is trying to play them?" Morph said as he stretched and then kept on stretching, his features twisting into that of Reed Richards. "Hmm, yes, it is a scientific fact that an individual who believes that he alone is the sole arbiter of all that is right and just must, perforce, have his derrière abused several times before he learns the lesson that he too is mortal."
The others all laughed, but there was a certain gravity to their movements as they prepared for their coming role. Soon, they were off, with Psylocke in the lead for now. They would switch to Morph in the lead when they got back to the palace environs.
For most of the time they'd been on the planet, the group had found a single hiding place among the palace grounds, a small culvert which had at some point been part of a training ground for the Imperial Guard. It hadn't been in use when they arrived, making it ideal for a place to hide. However, several days ago, around the time more Imperial Guardsman had arrived the spot garnered significantly more use. Needless to say, they needed a place to practice.
However, they couldn't retreat too far from the palace, which meant they'd had to find a new place to hide out. After spending a full, very nervous day on the move, the group had found a small copse near an outbuilding, where several hundred palace servants lived. No one seemed to use the woods, and during the day, there were few people around.
Now they skirted out and around, heading to a small riverbed that ran back towards the castle. The river was set in a small defile, arched over by several, somewhat pretty if rather plain, bridges. This allowed them to get close to the palace without being seen once more, skirting around the area of the gardens that had been turned over to the victory banquet. They had taken a route they had mapped out several times before, with Psylocke and Morph always in the lead, making certain that they didn't run into any of the locals.
This time they were in luck and made it all the way to the palace before they ran into anyone, thanks to the gala being held in the front lawn area of the palace. But once inside, that luck nearly ran out.
With E now in the lead, they moved to one of the small side entrances used by servants and gardeners. The sentient android had just begun to use an access code they had taken from a worker earlier that day – the palace security changed the codes every day – the door opened. A Shi'ar man came out, looking utterly miserable with a large handkerchief over his nose. "Ugh, I, I hate being sick, I…w?"
Before the man could speak, Nikolai was on him, Hissing out, "The Cameras!" there were cameras inside every entrance trained on the doorway, which E would have had to take command of anyway, regardless of the code they had taken to get the door open in the first place. As Nikolai grabbed the man by the shoulder and pulled in such a way his hand was hidden from within, E used his nanites to reach into the door's security system and from there to the camera taking it over.
As Nikolai held the rather sick-looking man against the wall, Psylocke moved over and eased a probe into his mind, trusting that skin-to-skin contact would keep her work hidden once more. The man struggled feebly, but Nikolai held him there easily while Psylocke erased the man's memory of the last few seconds. Then the man sneezed, and Nikolai twisted away, grateful he was wearing his mask. Ugh."
"Done. The camera is under my control, and no alarm has been raised," E reported. "And yes, that is rather disgusting. You fleshy types are truly not the best-designed things in the universe if you can be downed by the common cold."
Morph moved over to the guy, frowning. "This is one of the faces I was going to take over before we got to the SOCC. I've memorized others, thankfully, but what do we…"
"I can implant a suggestion to him to keep going on his way back to his quarters. I've already erased us from his mind. So long as you didn't leave bruises?" Psylocke looked at Nikolai interrogatively.
He snorted. "Girl, give me some credit. He won't have a single black and blue mark. Just tell me when to release him."
E and Morph entered through the doorway, moving to the end of the short entranceway, keeping an eye out while Psylocke and Nikolai twisted the man to face away from the palace. Nikolai followed, leaving Psylocke behind the man for a second as she finished creating the mental command. Then she ducked inside, closing the door as she released the hapless prisoner.
The sick man stood there for a moment, blinking in the sunlight, then sneezed, stumbling. Shaking his head, he made his weary way back to his home, cursing his overseer all the while. "If you didn't want me to sneeze all over my console, maybe you should have listened to me when I said I was sick as a tretak, you waste of air!"
"What's a tretak?" Psylocke asked the others as she joined them.
"Small flying batlike creature. Now come on, let us get a move on," E whispered. "My nanite program is controlling the cameras. We are good to go."
Inside the palace, the four of them relied heavily on Psylocke and E to warn of anyone coming towards them. They often had to backtrack or go to ground in an adjoining room to avoid servants or guards. With the gala now underway, there weren't as many guards at specific posts as there would have been, but Vin'car had not allowed all of the palace's security to be gathered around the party.
Moments later, they were at their initial target point: a cafeteria that served the SOCC operators. It was not part of the SOCC's inner defenses, thankfully, which allowed for their mission. Hiding nearby in a small dining room for officers, they waited. Luckily, even with the ambush being planned outside, the Strategic Operations Command Center's work continued and had to be liberally lubricated with the Shi'ar equivalent of coffee.
This was a horrifyingly tasteless gunk that had the viscosity of a smoothie and the taste of dried chalk to a human palate. It was almost enough for Psylocke, who had tried it, to feel sorry for the Shi'ar. Almost.
And like any workplace, underlings were sent out for this precious commodity. Psylocke and Morph had been here before and knew there was a certain rhythm to these things. Every other hour or so, someone would be sent out from one of the various sections of the SOCC, and today was no different. The two Shi'ar women in question passed by the door the team was hiding behind, and an instant later, were unconscious, their bodies being dragged into the room and set against the table as if they had just stopped in to take a nap.
Not that anyone was going to assume that would fool anyone. No, the chaos which would erupt the moment the ambush was sprung on Harry (or the Custodes trap was sprung on D'ken depending on who you asked) would cover this portion of their activity. That, and the fact that the two individuals in question would be seen on camera as having returned to the SOCC, even if the originals remained here.
Hands on their foreheads, Psylocke took a moment to capture a sort of psychic copy of the two individuals' minds. This took about five minutes each, but it would be necessary to let her and Morph act in such a way as to fool anyone who knew the two of them.
Meanwhile, Morph took on the face and form of one of the women. When his transformation was complete, Morph stared down at her chest, sighing as she patted it dramatically, then let her hands fall to her hips, which were actually quite big. "Ugh, I think this uniform makes my hips look fat. What do you guys think?" Morph asked in the woman's voice.
"Yes, it does, but that's the woman's fault, not yours," Nikolas soothed mockingly. "You are what you do, and that form certainly doesn't do enough."
Snorting at her companion's antics, Psylocke leaned away from the two captives. She then placed a small circlet around the head of one of them, which connected to a small image inducer at her waist, copying the other woman's features. I'm glad Morph remembered to take the one with the flatter chest. If I have to bump against anyone and give the game away thanks to my honkers being bigger than hers would have been the most appalling cockup in the history of cockups.
She looked at the two men, pointing to the doorway. "Face that way, boys."
Chuckling, Morph and Nikolai did so, and with E's help – he was an android and didn't have reproductive organs even if he identified as male – Psylocke quickly undressed her captive. A second later, she was dressing in the woman's uniform.
Placing the circlet around her own neck, Psylocke then began to speak, shifting her voice to match that of the woman thanks to the memory of the woman Morph was replacing. No one ever sounded like the way they thought, and so using the individual in question herself would never have worked. After another few minutes, she was satisfied. "I'm ready. But we'll have to move quickly, or else we might be forced to answer some questions about how long this took."
"You dropped the first handful just this side of the security checkpoint and had to run all the way back," Nikolai advised. "When it comes to that kind of lie, you need to keep it simple. Now, go get the coffee supplement. That'll let me and E get into position."
"Calling it a supplement for coffee is an insult to the honorable bean without which all of human civilization would collapse," Psylocke replied in a drawl.
"I thought Brits were all about tea," Morph complained as he headed towards the door. "Stop bursting my stereotypes, damn it!"
Rolling his eyes, Nikolai quickly led E out of the room, racing ahead of the other two. They soon split off, no longer heading towards the Strategic Observation and Communication Center but to an out-of-the-way corridor. This led to a maintenance shaft for the weapons that made up the last defense line for the SOCC.
Here E once more went to work, his hands coming apart into hundreds of tiny electrical tentacles, reaching into the systems he spoke up, his tone almost sepulchral. "Now, don't worry, this won't hurt a bit, my dear."
Nikolai looked at him, and E smiled, making the Russian youth wonder once more what strange chance had created such a human-seeming electronic entity as E. "It's just a joke, I'm still getting the hang of humor, but I thought it was funny."
"It was good. I just wasn't anticipating it right now," Nikolai answered.
The two of them waited there for a moment, with Nikolai watching the passageway in either direction. Then E murmured, "they're passing the checkpoint, and… they are at the last security zone."
The weapon systems E had taken over would activate if anyone looked as if they had too high a heat source, weighed too much, or any of a dozen other sensors discovered anything out of place. With E providing test sensors, Morph had proven to be able to shift himself well enough to fool them all. But he couldn't fool people who knew the individual whose face he wore without Psylocke nearby able to telepathically relay things to him. And she had to be nearby, because as she had said earlier, Psylocke wasn't good enough or strong enough to hide her telepathic signature from Oracle for any long range actions.
But with E controlling the weapons, this was no longer a concern, and minutes later, the two 'women' were back in the SOCC, handing out the caffeine drinks before going back to their own stations, waiting. While in their pockets, the computer virus lay, waiting to be uploaded into the very heart of the Shi'ar Empire.
They did not have to wait long.