Location: Xavier Institute
Date: Monday, January 2nd, 1989
Jean POV:
Jean had been running events back in her mind during the team's short flight back to the institute. The trip was made in silence, as each of them prepared for their mission debrief, and she was glad for that.
Her head throbbed faintly from the effort expended on that rooftop and the emotional static from her teammates in such a chaotic, stressful situation. But her efforts had achieved almost nothing and that had left Jean deeply frustrated.
She never vocalized it to anyone, but she had felt that her powers made her one of the strongest and most versatile members of the X-Men. Now, come their first mission, she had felt nearly useless.
After the Stratojet had landed the professor called them to the War Room for their mission debrief.
Professor Xavier sat in his wheelchair, hands steepled, and watched them all with that calm, expectant gaze. She knew the team looked a bit worse for wear. Scott sat rigid in his chair with a spare visor firmly in place, Warren was favoring his wings, and Bobby looked drained. Jean sat quietly with her arms crossed.
"Please, each of you, tell me what happened tonight from the beginning." said Xavier.
Scott spoke first, his tone clipped and professional, the way he always tried to be when reporting to the Professor, though frustration bled through. But Jean only partly paid attention as Scott recited what happened until near the end, "He wasn't hostile at the end... but he's dangerous and clearly doesn't trust us, or you, Professor. When he sensed someone watching us afterward, Jean couldn't detect them. He warned us to leave but I don't know if that was genuine concern or a manipulation."
Jean spoke up, "I believe it was genuine. When he looked toward the other buildings… there was real focus. Alertness."
"I'm sorry that we did not succeed in our mission Professor." Scott finished and sat back, jaw tight. Jean felt the weight of his frustration, and the quiet shame that followed it.
The Professor nodded once, "Thank you, Scott. Jean?"
She took a breath, forcing herself to speak steadily even though her earlier frustration still simmered, "He wasn't hostile, Professor. Not really. I could feel his emotions clearly. He felt… uniquely steady, calmer than almost anyone I've ever read." then a realization struck.
"There was no emotional or psychic static coming off him. No chaotic thoughts leaking out the way everyone else has. With him… it was quiet. Peaceful, almost. I've never felt that before."
Realizing everyone was looking at her she quickly continued, "There was no hate, and no real fear of us. Just… caution, wariness. And when he spoke about telepathy, I think there was real distaste there."
She hesitated, then added the part that had been bothering her most, "My telekinesis slid right off him. Completely. Like he had some kind of frictionless barrier. And my telepathy… I couldn't get any reading at all when I tried to reach him gently. No surface thoughts, no leakage of his intent. But after we reached the Stratojet he told me we would meet again. He sounded like he meant it, but not as a threat."
She fell silent and after a moment Beast cleared his throat gently.
He leaned forward, analytical as always, though clearly impressed, "From a combat perspective, the subject was remarkable. Early twenties at most, yet he displayed advanced hand-to-hand skill, exceptional reflexes, and some form of energy manipulation or invisible force power. He adapted to Iceman's ice sheet almost instantly, developing a method to maintain traction and even stop instantly on slippery surfaces, mid fight. Truly remarkable.
Physically, he appears in peak condition, and whatever powers he possesses are currently unidentified. He is a complete unknown, Professor. And highly competent."
The Professor listened in silence, fingers steepled, eyes thoughtful.
When he finally spoke, his voice was calm and measured, "Thank you. All of you. This young man is clearly far more complex, and more capable, than we anticipated. His resistance to both telepathic contact and telekinetic force is… remarkable. Forcing another confrontation right now would almost certainly drive him further away.
The mysterious observer is more concerning. Jean, you sensed nothing?"
She shook her head, "Nothing at all."
Xavier nodded slowly, "We must assume there is another party interested in him. But for now we need to give him space. In the meantime, I want each of you to reflect carefully on what happened tonight. This was not a failure. It was a difficult first contact with an individual who does not yet trust us. How you respond to that difficulty will determine whether it becomes a setback… or a valuable learning experience."
As the meeting began to break up, Jean lingered.
'A learning experience?' she thought, with more bitterness that expected.
She trusted the Professor. She respected him. He had given her a place to belong when her powers had left her scared and isolated.
'But what could I have done differently? Am I just the token girl and the boys are the real heroes? Was this always going to be my role? The girl who tries to talk first and then becomes a bystander when things turn serious?'
Jean wished there was another woman she could talk to about this. Someone who might understand what it felt like. But the only other one with powers that she knew of was the Fantastic Four's Invisible Girl… probably the most famous woman on Earth. Jean doubted they would ever get the chance to meet.
Jean clenched her fists under the table, 'No, there was a chance to talk with him and we waisted it. And we failed the mission.'
Then she resolved to change that. If they were going to meet him again, she would redeem herself. And in the back of her mind she also wanted to experience that strange, quiet presence.
-----
Location: New York City
Date: Friday, January 6th, 1989
Mark POV:
After he had seen the X-Men safely on their way, Mark did just about everything he could think of to loose the tail he suspected was following him.
The problem was he could not tell for sure if he still had a tail or if he had lost it. So Mark's paranoia sent him through the city for several hours. He wove through crowded streets, doubled back through alleys, and even slipped into the sewers once again.
He would be the first to admit that he did not know anything about the New York sewers or underground in his own world. But the Marvel version seemed far more extensive and labyrinthine than necessary, but it worked to his advantage now.
Eventually though he returned home but could not fully relax. He did not feel ready for a serious threat and the possibility of one pushed him to train hard, especially one subtle enough to evade his Force powers.
After the week passed without incident he had started to slow down a bit. School had intensified as the teachers started to pile on extra work throughout the week, to see if he was serious about early graduation.
But despite the time spent on homework, the results from Mark's rooftop fight with the X-Men and his subsequent training were undeniable.
He seemed to have pushed through something that had been holding back his Force Fundamentals progress.
Name: Mark Smith
Race: Human (Numenorean)
Age: 17
Equipped Template:
-Jedi Padawan
Traits:
-Keen Mind
-Fair of Face
-Force Sensitive
Powers:
-Grace of the Valar: 35%
-Aura of Majesty: 3%
Disciplines:
-Force Fundamentals: 81%
Skills:
-Weapon Mastery: 10%
-Wilderness Survival: 1%
-Elvish Language: 22%
Items:
-None
But the best part, he had just reached 8 points.
Mark's heart was beating fast as he sat on his couch/bed and opened the store. He had enough points now to buy Cortana.
He hesitated before buying her though. Even thinking about it in those terms felt scummy. The main issue however was he did not know what would happen.
Several possibilities passed through his mind, but in the end he could only move forward to learn how the store handled characters, and maybe learn something about the system at the same time.
Mentally prepared for anything, Mark spent all his points on Cortana and held his breath.
For a moment nothing happened. Then the space just ahead of him began to change. A partly transparent scene appeared before him. At the same time, what looked like a glowing piece of paper formed in his hand and he received another information download. He stood at once as he both realized what was happening from the download and recognized the scene.
It looked like half his living room was filled with a hologram. While still able to see through it, the floor and ceiling looked like it had been turned to metal, and directly before him was a pedestal about waist high. But it was the cryopod just to his right had all his attention. It was Master Chief.
'This has to be the Forward Unto Dawn. Sometime after the end of Halo 3.' Mark thought as a strange feeling passed through him.
He had never been a fanboy, and even meeting a few significant people from Marvel had not really effected him. But seeing Chief was a little different, 'Is it because I myself, in a way, fought through the events of the halo games?'
He was not sure, but just then the pedestal before him lit up and Cortana appeared. She was smaller than he expected, a translucent blue figure standing roughly a foot tall over the holographic projector. Her short dark blue hair framing a face that mixed intelligence, weariness, and something almost human. The holographic light of her body cast a soft blue across the room.
There was a brief silence as they regarded each other.
"Identify yourself," Cortana said. Her tone was cooler than he was used to hearing from her.
"My name is Mark."
"You're not registering on any shipboard sensors," she continued almost immediately. "Care to explain how that's possible?"
He looked down at the glowing paper in his hand trying to figure out how best to handle this. He thought he knew what was happening, but needed to confirm, "What exactly are you seeing on your side?"
Cortana tilted her holographic head slightly, arms loosely folded. "A partially transparent three-dimensional image of you… standing in what looks like a rather depressing little room with nothing but an old couch."
'Well, that pretty much confirms it.' he thought. The information downloads do not come in words, more like raw understanding. He was not talking to a copy, a creation of the system, or an alternate timeline version. This was the real Cortana in the actual Halo universe.
The glowing paper in his hand was a contract. It would enforce any stipulations they both agreed upon and becomes active when used to transfer her over to Marvel. If she refused or he failed to convince her, their communication would end and she would simply be removed from the store, though he would get to keep his points. But if she agreed, it would mean she disappears from her own home universe, potentially causing problems there.
She was watching him closely, waiting for him to explain. If she was going to be an ally then honesty was the best policy. So with a deep breath he started, "I am not from your universe."
Cortana remained silent for nearly three seconds, her gaze never leaving him. For a human it was only a brief pause, but for her it was an eternity of processing. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, "That's… a remarkable claim. What exactly do you mean by 'universe'?"
"I do not mean another planet, galaxy, or even another dimension inside your cosmology," Mark answered without hesitation. "I mean an entirely separate reality."
Her expression barely shifted, but her eyes sharpened with sudden focus and she uncrossed her arms, "All right. Let's assume, temporarily, that you're telling the truth. How did you establish communication?"
Mark glanced down at the glowing contract. "I… do not know how the mechanics work."
Her eyebrow rose. "You don't know. You expect me to believe someone capable of bridging universes doesn't understand the mechanism involved?"
"Correct."
That answer earned him another long, assessing look. Then without warning she asked, "What's today's date?"
"On your side? 2552 or 53, I do not know the exact date. On my side, it's Friday, January 6th, 1989."
Cortana went completely still. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, almost thoughtful, "…1989."
She tilted her head, studying him with renewed intensity, "That's more than five hundred years before the Human-Covenant War begins. Before the UNSC existed. Even before Halsey graduated university."
A faint, almost reluctant smile touched her expression and Mark could not help but grin at the dig. She paused, then added with characteristic dryness, "And for the record, it's January 6th, 2553."
Then she moved on immediately, "Who created me?"
Mark frowned, "...Doctor Catherine Halsey."
"Serial designation?"
"I have no idea."
She was clearly evaluating him, no doubt trying to asses if he was lying and Mark was starting to miss the Force's insight. He did not realize how quickly he had started relying on it in conversation. Maybe Cortana would be a good influence in that regard if she agrees to come to Marvel, but right then he could not feel anything from the image in his room.
Then came a more dangerous question, "How do you know who I am?"
Mark hesitated, 'This could go badly, but she is smart enough to figure it out anyway when I tell her about Marvel so...'
Finally he said, "Where I come from… your life is a story."
For the first time since the conversation began, Cortana looked genuinely unsettled. Not frightened, but disturbed, "…Explain."
Mark took a slow breath. "In my universe, your universe exists as fiction. But I do not believe that it is anymore. Your world is clearly every bit as real as mine. It is just… accessible, apparently... somehow."
Cortana stared at him. Finally she spoke with characteristic precision, "Mark. Either you are suffering from the most elaborate delusion I have ever encountered… and somehow found a way to do all this..." She glanced again at the impossible room. "…or I am experiencing the single greatest scientific discovery in recorded history. Fortunately, both possibilities are interesting."