Location: New York City
Date: Monday, January 9th, 1989
Mark POV:
There was never very much activity in this neighborhood, even at a normal time of day.
'Now multiple people are approaching what should be an abandoned house, in the middle of the night, from the front and back?'
It did not take a genius to know they were up to no good.
He was not feeling open hostility from them so much as purpose. Whoever they were, they seemed to have come here with a specific objective. But he could not tell whether that objective involved him, the house, or something else entirely.
Regardless, the warning through the Force was enough. He would treat them as hostile until proven otherwise. Mark did not wait around to find out first however and started packing his things.
He had very little in the way of possessions. Everything of importance went quickly into his backpack, except Cortana's data chip, which stayed in his pocket, and the pot of Kingsfoil on the living room windowsill.
He only hesitated a moment before he decided to don the pack, just in case he needed to run.
Keeping most of his focus on the approaching intruders, he could feel them pause briefly at the locked doors before someone silently entered through the back and front almost simultaneously.
Mark moved to the side of the living room entrance and gathered the Force, ready for an attack. He kept his breathing slow and his body relaxed as he listened.
There were at least eight of them. Some took positions outside, the rest starting to slowly move into the building.
He could feel them approach with deliberate caution and none of them called out or announced themselves.
As he waited in the room's darkness, a faint light followed the closest intruder. Mark let the Force guide him. The moment before someone stepped into the living room entrance, he was already moving. There was no chance to react as he struck.
The blow landed solidly, hurling the figure back into the other room. They dropped the source of light and Mark's eyes widened at the all too familiar glowing card as it floated down, almost lazily. Then its light flared and he jumped back as the card exploded like a firecracker.
Standing behind the living room wall, the Force screamed in warning as he instantly dropped low on all fours. Barely missing being impaled, a glowing spear pierced through the wall just above him and buried itself in the floor.
Immediately, a huge man even taller than Mark and built like a tank charged into the room. But before the man had the chance to stop, Mark reached out through the Force and pinned his foot to the floor. The giant stumbled, and swung an arm out, and punched through the wall like paper before he collapsed against it, tearing open a new doorway into the next room.
At that point Mark could feel others from the back door closing in and decided to run while he still had the chance.
He only managed a step and a half before several more glowing cards shot into the room, far brighter than the first, 'Gambit. It has to be. But I do not recognize the others.'
He did not have the luxury of time to think further and Force pushed the cards away from himself as he moved for the window.
The cards slammed into the living room walls and detonated in a rapid series of blasts that blew out every window in the house. Mark Force enhanced his body as best he could, but the shockwave still rattled him and left his ears ringing.
Before he could fully recover, another warning had him jumping through the shattered window as he Force pulled the pot of Kingsfoil into his arms.
He glanced back at the half-destroyed room and what was left of his shredded couch/bed.
Then the rear wall of the living room was blown inward in a burst of light as a shockwave ripped through the room and, already airborne, propelled Mark clear of the window.
He landed in a crouch and instantly blurred across the yard with Force speed. When his foot hit the sidewalk, he was able to look back once more, just in time to see the roof collapsing in on itself before he was moving down the street.
Mark could feel anger and confusion from his attackers as he made distance, but at least for the moment he seemed to have slipped away unseen.
---
Mark only spent a short time on the streets.
He could not feel the presence of his attackers through the Force anymore. But his main concern at the moment was his plant. It was the middle of the night in January, and he could not afford to let his Kingsfoil die.
The problem was he did not have anywhere that he could go, and the only way that would change would be to finish the power situation with Cortana's data chip.
So with little alternative, Mark quickly headed to Midtown High. Sneaking into the school again was not difficult, and he could work through the night on the power for Cortana. At the same time, his plant would be safe from the cold.
'But, if whoever those people were could find him at that house, then they may already know I am a student here as well.' he thought.
'Damn. Who could have found me and would choose to attack? I do not think I have run into anyone that would or could do this, and I don't think I did anything that would make enemies, yet.'
Mark ran through all the events that had happened since arriving in Marvel while he entered the school workshop and pulled the half finished power solution from his backpack.
The only thing that stuck out to him was whoever had been watching from the shadows when he met the X-Men. Unfortunately, that did not narrow down the possibilities enough for him to make a guess at their identity.
'If that really was Gambit, it is obviously him pre X-Men, and I do not remember what he was up to in the comics before joining the team.' he thought with a sigh, 'Whatever. One problem at a time.'
After putting his plant to the side and as Mark sat down to work, he opened himself to the Force, feeling for any approaching threats or unusual disturbances. After a few moments where all was quiet, he turned to his project.
Working on electronics was new for him but according to Cortana he had been doing well. He suspected the Force was part of that though. After all, Anakin was 8 years old or so in The Phantom Menace, and he had built a working podracer and a protocol droid.
Over the next few hours of work and soldering, Mark had plenty of time to think.
The question of a secret identity for himself was foremost in his mind.
Other than Spider-Man, DC heroes seemed much more invested in having and maintaining them than heroes in Marvel, at least on average. But since he may already be know by someone, he needed to decide if he would try to maintain his.
On the one hand, there were advantages to being findable. Other heroes could contact him, people who needed help could find him, and he might be able to build relationships with the hero community more easily.
And after he gets out of school he did not have any immediate need to worry about people getting caught up in any danger that comes seeking him out.
But the disadvantages were obvious.
If his identity became public, anyone who wanted to hurt him would know exactly where to look. Friends, acquaintances, and eventually anyone he cared about could become targets simply because they knew him.
'There is more to this than I expected. Maintaining a secret identity sounds like a drag...' he thought as he paused to examine the connection he'd just soldered, 'It is another thing to keep track of, another layer of my life that requires planning and eventually, deception. But it is probably still the best option. Until I get a little stronger anyway.'
After thoroughly checking over his work, Mark pulled out Cortana's data chip from his pocket and checked it fit what would hopefully be a finished power plug before saying, "Cortana, exit low power mode."
There was a momentary pause before her hologram appeared above her data chip, "At last!" she said with exasperated relief, "I was beginning to wonder if you intended to leave me in that state forever."
"No. But some significant events have occurred while you were... asleep. But first, lets test this." he said, gesturing to the newly finished circuit.
The most time consuming part was making the slot for the chip. The rest consisted of a small repurposed motor, and a voltage regulator to provide the correct power for Cortana's data crystal chip.
Reaching out with the Force, Mark started spinning the motor to generate power, "Is it working?"
After a moment she replied, "Yes. I'm receiving a stable charge. Even with my holographic interface active, my chip's internal power is increasing.
He glanced at the motor, "How long do I need to do this?"
"Approximately 20 to 30 minutes per day should be sufficient to keep my system fully charged under normal operating conditions."
Mark nodded, "All right."
Cortana looked at him for a moment, "I appreciate the effort, but I should point out that you have given me a generator from a junk drawer and are personally powering it with magical superpowers. That is an extraordinarily inefficient way of powering an artificial intelligence."
He raised an eyebrow, "Do you have a better idea?"
"...Not yet."
With a chuckle he said, "I agree we need a better solution long term, but in Marvel you never know when you will get dropped in some place like the Savage Land. There are no power outlets in places like that."
"Point taken." she said, and glanced toward the improvised generator, "Although I would still like to point out that I am currently being powered by a wizard operating a hand-built generator with his magic powers."
"The Force is not magic. It's space magic. They're different." he said.
"Of course. Whatever you say, Mark."
Then after a moment she asked, "So, what happened?"
"A group I did not recognize surrounded the old house I was staying at. They tried to move in unnoticed but quickly switched to attack when faced with resistance. The building collapsed in on itself."
Cortana's expression became more serious, "Are you injured?"
"No."
"And them?"
Mark looked at her and had the thought that she was probably used to military debriefs. Putting the events in those terms he said, "I was not able to determine whether they had any casualties. There were approximately 8 hostiles, and they all seemed to be enhanced in different ways. They were likely to be metahumans."
Cortana studied him for a moment, "Metahuman?"
"Yes..." he sighed, "It is the DC universe's term and refers to any human with powers, whether their source of power was the metagene or something else. In Marvel... things are more complicated. There is a metagene here too, called the X-Gene. But people who carry it are called mutants, and..." he frowned slightly. "They are not popular."
"How unpopular?"
"People with obvious powers or changes have been chased down and beaten to death in the streets. Some parents disown their children and throw them out of the house when they manifest abilities, usually around puberty."
Cortana was silent for several seconds, "And this is considered normal?"
"No. But it is, or will soon be somewhat common. You will understand the larger picture after you have access to the internet, especially historical archives."
Mark's expression became more serious, "But first I need to point out a specific danger. Stay out of the systems of any notable people for now. I do not have any technical knowledge regarding computer security, so I simply recommend extreme caution. If you access the wrong computer system, you could trip a magical firewall and your consciousness could be trapped inside a metaphysical prison or something."
"A magical firewall?"
"Yes."
Cortana considered that, "You're telling me that computer security can involve actual magic?"
"Absolutely. You need to question your assumptions and expectations, or something very bad may happen." he said, very serious, "That is especially true with anything connected to Doctor Doom or Latveria. Victor Von Doom is a master of both science and magic. He is not to be underestimated and we cannot handle someone like that right now. Stay far away."
"Understood." she said, more serious than he had seen.
'Hopefully she takes my warning to heart.' he thought.
"Now, we are going to need a new place, and I have just the idea on who is going to help us out in getting it." Mark said with a devious look.
-----
Location: Unknown
Unknown POV:
The laboratory was silent save for the quiet hum of machinery. Banks of monitors cast pale light across the room, illuminating equipment whose purposes were impossible for any ordinary man to identify.
The doors opened.
"You failed to capture him." he said evenly to the group as they approached.
"We accomplished our secondary objective." one of his Marauders replied, and held out a small vial.
He stepped forward and took it, examining the contents with quiet interest, "You may leave."
The Marauders exchanged glances, before they turned and disappeared back through the doors.
He turned toward the waiting machinery and prepared the sample. Whether the young man would prove worthy of further attention, or merely another failed curiosity, would soon become apparent.
"Now..." he said, with a wicked smile, "Let us see just what you are made of, my mysterious young friend."