1X01 – Sentinel – Act II | X-Men: The (fan fic) Series

1X01 – Sentinel – Act II

1X01 – Sentinel – Act II

“That’s it then, we don’t give it back.”

“It’s not as simple as that, Logan,” Scott shook his head, “if we destroy Nimrod then we are no better than Magneto and his Brotherhood.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Slim,” the feral mutant got into his face, “we are better than those cowards, we do the right things for the right reasons.”

“You and I have different definitions of what’s ‘right’,” Scott spoke bluntly.

“No kidding,” he gruffed.

“If you two could quit posturing,” Ororo crossed her arms, “then perhaps we could discuss this as rational individuals.”

Scott grimaced, “’Ro’s right.”

Wolverine rolled his eyes and walked off, taking up his usual perch against the wall with a light growl.

“Now, let me get this straight,” the headmistress turned to Kitty, “there is a large database of information on mutants which the government could use in conjunction with Sentinel to hunt mutants.”

“Yes,” Kitty nodded, “it apparently has everything, photos, stats, aliases, habits, whatever it could use to track someone. A similar program is already in use by NSA, CIA, etc, but this would be geared specifically towards known mutants.”

“Like us,” JP added.

“Like us,” the young woman frowned, “and it would be able to track more than facial recognition, it knows our powers, so if there is, say, temperature fluctuations,” she pointed to Bobby, “then it knows to narrow its search parameters. We’re talking taking something that could take normal humans hours to do and getting results in minutes, possibly even seconds.”

“Oh, joy,” Bobby said sarcastically.

“And unknown mutants?” Scott asked.

“That’s what the rest of the software if for,” she told them, “but it’s not complete yet.”

“You said it’d be year or so?” he remembered what she said that morning.

“Probably,” Kitty shrugged, “but it really was just a guess.”

“You never know when someone will hit a breakthrough,” Doug added, “having the right thought at the right time, it speeds up development.”

Scott thought this over for a moment, pursing his lips together as he tried to figure out the bigger picture, “We know the government has information on the school, and the Brotherhood of course, but who else?”

“Who else?” Jean asked a tad incredibly, “There are hundreds of non-affiliated mutants out there… thousands.”

“We were worried Magneto would turn Sentinel into a recruitment tool,” Ororo figured it out before the rest of them, “if he gets his hands on that list, he would use it just the same.”

“But he can’t,” Kitty piped up, “he needs Nimrod to access the database.”

“He does?” Scott asked.

“Yeah,” she elaborated, “the database is designed to be only accessible by Nimrod in order to avoid hacking and corruption of data.”

“So we destroy the database then,” Bobby stated the seemingly obvious, “all problems solved.”

“The information is not unique,” Kitty rolled her eyes, “it’s just a central data core that has everything in one place. We destroy it and they just rebuild it, a couple months, tops.”

“This explains why Magneto sent the hard drive to us,” JP said wryly.

“Yes,” Storm nodded, “he wants us to use Nimrod to access the information, it would be much easier than trying to find all the individual files across all the government agencies.”

“Ambush,” Logan half snickered, half growled.

“So we don’t destroy it then?” Bobby said slowly, questionly, thinking maybe he had it this time.

“The list is just as valuable to us, Bobby,” Jean told him, “there are many mutants out there who have no one to help them, who have been targeted by the government and feel alone, afraid. We could find them, help them.”

“Not to mention all the information they have on the Brotherhood that we don’t,” JP added.

“Is it worth the risk though?” the Iceman looked between them all for an answer, only to receive nothing but glances and furrowed brows.

“We don’t even know where it is at the moment,” Kitty broke the silence, “but it shouldn’t take us much longer to figure it out.”

“Alright,” Scott let a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “find out where the database is being kept, this will give us time to weigh our options.”

“So we can decide to do the pansy thing,” Logan rolled his eyes as he pushed off the wall.

“So we can decide to do the right thing,” no matter how many times he had to say it.

…

“They have two of the most powerful known telepaths,” Val reminded Wilcox, the leader of one of her covert op teams, an older man with graying hair, “standard operating procedures do not apply.”

“There’s no such thing as a safe minimum distance,” he crossed his arms and shook his head lightly as if he was thinking, “if the telepaths don’t catch us, the one called Wolverine will sniff us out, literally.”

“Exactly,” Val slid a file from her desk, “which is why I’m thinking the NSA might actually be good for something for once,” she handed the papers over to him, “they have a low level surveillance team already keeping an eye on the school. Xavier has to know about it.”

“We use it as a piggy back,” he nodded as he flipped through the folder.

“Two days,” she told him, “I want an action plan, what’s feasible, what’s not. I’d prefer to keep the NSA out of it but I’ll make them play ball if I have to.”

The man grimaced, “The NSA make for a lousy Short Stop.”

Val chuckled, but there was a knock at the door and Rita let herself in, “Pardon the interruption, I have those files you were waiting on.”

“Perfect,” Val turned to her ops leader, “two days.”

“On it,” he nodded and headed out of the room, shutting the door behind himself as Rita approached with two folders in her hand.

“Department H gave us the redacted files on Jean-Paul Beaubier,” she passed over one of the folders, “if we want the full reports, you’re going to have to strong arm someone.”

“Figured as much,” she flipped open the dossier and did a quick scan, “invulnerable skin plus overly efficient metabolism means super speed, quite handy.”

“And he’s not the only Beaubier to join DH,” her assistant handed over the other folder, “he has a twin sister, Jeanne-Marie, also got the invulnerable skin, but instead of the metabolism she has highly defined and dense bone and muscle structure.”

Val glanced up as she took the file, “How defined and dense?”

“Girl can fly,” the woman said with a touch of awe, “after bench pressing a Buick.”

“Not bad,” Val could admit that mutant abilities were pretty spectacular, as much as they were dangerous, “I wonder why she wasn’t part of the team in Bridgeport.”

“We’re not even sure at this point it was a ‘team’ and not a circumstantial team-up,” Rita pointed out then pressed her lips together as if to take back what she said.

“No, no you’re right, at this moment it’s speculation,” she assured the woman, “but if Xavier is stepping up against the Brotherhood, I want in on the ground floor, I don’t want to be playing catch up a couple months from now when all Hell’s broken lose.”

“Of course,” Rita gave a thankful smile, “do you want me to call a session of the Council?”

“Not yet,” she didn’t have enough to give a full report, “but we will, sooner rather than later.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you to your reading then,” the woman gave a slight nod then walked back to the door. As she opened it, she turned her head and said, “oh, Jeanne-Marie Beaubier’s file is an interesting read, even her redactions have redactions.”

…

“So, you’ve heard of it,” JP said over the phone as he stood out on the patio of the school, “but that’s it, no details,” he listened for another minute, then contained a sigh, “alright, thanks, if you find anything, let me know, but don’t put your neck out too far if you don’t have to.”

Ending the phone call, the Candian speed mutant sat down on the brick wall that separated the patio from the grassy lawn. He’d exhausted pretty much every contact he had… that he could still speak to anyway.

“There you are, Jean-Paul,” he looked up to see his sister, Jeanne-Marie, approach, crossing her arms and looking rather perturbed but with a smile on her face. Considering the rather high collared blouse and full length pencil skirt, it made her look like an extra in some 1940s period piece, “you said you’d help in the kitchen.”

“Right, course,” JP shook his head, “sorry, was talking to an old friend,” he paused for only a split second before pushing, “one who used to work in Department H.”

Jeanne-Marie blinked a couple of times, then smiled, “Nostalgia won’t save you from doing the dishes, you may be five minutes older but I bet I can still give you a good wallop.”

“That I don’t doubt,” he couldn’t help a chuckle, but he had to push a little more, “Jeanne-Marie, do you remember hearing anything about Project: Wideawake?”

“Sounds military,” she shrugged her shoulders and gave him a bemused look, “were would I hear such things?”

“In Department H,” he reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders, “you had a higher clearance than I did, you were in the advanced program.”

She laughed, “Don’t be daft, you were in the military, I was teaching school, remember.”

“No, Jeanne,” he couldn’t help but tighten his grip a little, “you joined the Canadian Army with me, you were approached by Department H first, you were offered the advanced-”

His sister grabbed his wrist and with seemingly little effort she twisted it over which caused him to lurch sideways lest he snap a bone. He may be invulnerable but that only applied to his skin.

“Big brother is talking nonsense,” Jeanne-Marie said coldly, “when he should be doing the dishes.”

Glancing up into her eyes, the color had stayed the same but they looked sharper, leaner, and much more precise than they had seconds before. “Jeanne…”

She blinked and surprise filled her expression as she let go of him, “Jean-Paul, always goofing around, come on, just because you have super-speed doesn’t mean you can procrastinate.”

With those words she turned and headed back into the study, leaving JP to flex his hand, still able to feel the pain from her grip. His worse fears wouldn’t go away, they just kept getting worse.

…

“No, no, I’m telling you,” Pyro was talking as he and Rogue got out the car and headed into the warehouse, “not once does Superman make a decision for himself, his dad, Zod, it’s all him either being passive or being forced.”

“I thought something seemed off,” she nodded as she remembered all the bits of the film. Her memory wasn’t photographic, but when you have people in your head who have also experienced said movie, show, book, etc, then it’s easy to get a second opinion. “Though to be honest I spent most of the movie annoyed at Hollywood’s continual perpetuation of the dangerous stereotype of people hiding under a bridge during a tornado.”

“Wait,” he frowned, “hiding under bridges is a bad thing?”

“Duh,” she twirled her finger in the air, “wind… aerodynamics.”

It took him a second, then his eyes widened, “Ooooh.”

“Exactly,” she smiled and they headed around a corner to the main area of the mothballed building.

“About time,” Avalanche was sitting at a make-shift table of a concrete slap on top of two barrels, reading some ‘Bars & Beers’ magazine.

They sat the sacks of Indian food on the table, Rogue pulling a face, “Hey, if I’m eating curry, I’m getting it from the best, even if I have to go across town.”

“Food’s food,” Pryo started in, pulling out containers, “let’s eat.”

Searching for the cutlery, Rogue couldn’t help but feel, for a moment, that they were being watched. But that was silly, Avalanche had seismic sensors all across the building thanks to his mutation, he could be able to tell if someone approached. In theory…

“Down,” Rogue had just enough time to grab Pyro by his collar and drag him to the floor as the massive force slammed onto the table, nearly knocking it over but cracking the concrete. Rolling over quickly she was back on her feet but in a crouched position, just in time to hear a snarling laugh, “Sabretooth.”

“How pathetic,” the mutant stayed perched on the table, but he retracted his claws, his sharp teeth still shining through, “no wonder you lost to a bunch of school marms.”

“We didn’t lose,” she stood to her full height, “it was a tactical retreat.”

“Whatever makes you sleep at night,” he chuckled and picked up one of the containers that managed not to fall to the floor, “oh wait,” he used one claw to spear a piece of Tandoori chicken, “you don’t.”

“That’s seventy bucks worth of dinner there, kitty,” Rogue ignored his jab as she watched him eat and lick his fingers.

“Worth every penny,” he grinned at her, his eyes positively gleeful behind his shaggy blonde hair as he ate the chicken.

“One of these days,” she took a step forward, annoyed that she was forced to look up at him because not only was he tall, the exact opposite of his often rival Wolverine, but him being on the table put her at an even more severe disadvantage, “I’m gonna put you into such a deep sleep, you ain’t ever gonna wake up.”

Sabretooth chuckled, “We both know you don’t have the stomach for it, for what it’ll do to you,” he looked her up and down, “which is a pity, ” he gave her false sorrow, “cause maybe then you might actually be worthy of your dear old mum.”

“Did you come here to help,” Quicksilver was now standing beside the table, “or just eat our food and be genuinely annoying.”

“As opposed to fallaciously annoying?” Pyro piped in from hiding behind Avalanche.

Rolling her eyes, Rogue used that moment to disengage from the feral mutant. She knew some of his darkest secrets, most villainous evils… and he knew she knew… and he seemed to take a twisted sense of pride in that.

“I’m here as insurance,” he chewed on another piece of chicken, smacking his lips.

Pyro tried to grab one of the other containers which looked to have survived, but an evil eye from Sabretooth caused him to back off. Shaking his head, Avalanche stepped forward and picked up what was salvageable, “Your kind of insurance tends to be rather messy.”

“Yeah, it is,” Sabretooth wasn’t at all bothered.

“Try to tone it down,” Quicksilver crossed his arms, “avoid a mass slaughter if at all possible, they may be annoying but they are fellow mutants.”

“Like that matters to him,” Rogue shook her head and the feral man didn’t bother to even try to deny it.

…

“I’ve come to a decision,” Scott had the whole group gathered in the teacher’s lounge again. “Once Kitty and Doug figure out where this database is being kept, we’ll use Nimrod to download the files. This way we know who the government knows about, who needs to be protected, and what other threats are out there we don’t know about.”

“It shouldn’t take us much longer,” Kitty sat up in her chair, “Doug almost has it figured out, he’s backtracking protocols and some other technically illegal stuff I won’t bore you with.”

“Good,” he nodded at the girl, “I want you to show Jean how to connect Nimrod and download the files.”

“What?” Kitty’s mouth gapped open.

“As previously pointed out, this is probably an ambush,” Scott pointed out, “and the Professor does not want you going into any fights until you’re a legal adult, that’s what you agreed to.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “I know.”

“You can come with us though,” he told her and that perked her up, “I want you to stay in the car, a good distance away. If there are camera feeds you can hack into them and that will be a great help.”

“And you can help me out if I run into anything unexpected,” Jean added with a smile.

Kitty nodded, happier, “I can do that.”

“Alright,” Scott then addressed the whole group, “the rest of us will be on the defensive. I assume this will be an office building or warehouse, we can figure it out specifically once we know more. But I figure Logan and JP on the perimeter, Ro and I guarding Jean.”

“What about me?” Bobby’s head popped up when he realized he wasn’t mentioned.

“Somewhere in the middle,” he shrugged, “then wherever we need you the most.”

Bobby frowned, “Why does this feel like getting picked last for Little League again?”

“This all sounds dandy,” Wolverine was leaning against the table, “but what do we do with Nimrod afterwards?”

“We copy the information,” Scott looked him squarely in the eyes, even if Logan couldn’t really tell behind his ruby quartz shades, “then give it to Agent Duncan to return.”

“Figures,” the feral mutant said with disgust.

“I’m not doing this just to be stubborn,” Scott said pointedly, “I am thinking about this school, about mutant-kind.”

“By putting them in harm’s way,” Logan scoffed.

“By proving to the government they don’t need such a thing as Sentinel in the first place,” JP said before another shouting match could start between the two. “It’s a noble idea, Scott, but forgive my pessimism, society doesn’t work that way.”

“It doesn’t because people take the easy option,” Ororo replied, “hate is always easier to sell than tolerance because hate takes so much less effort.”

JP nodded, conceding to her point.

“You can’t build something without putting effort into it,” Scott added, “it’s bad enough that we’re actually going to have to start fighting the Brotherhood, we shouldn’t be antagonizing the government too.”

“Whatever,” Logan rolled his eyes and walked off, he was just out of the room when Kitty’s phone went off.

“It’s Doug,” the girl was reading a text in one hand while grabbing a tablet computer with the other and connecting to the overhead, “he’s got a location.”

A map came up on the projection screen showing a converted warehouse in New Jersey. “It’s an ‘unused’ office space for Bastion Industries in Newark, New Jersey.”

“Alright then,” Scott did some quick math, “that’s about an hour drive, we’ll want to hit this at a little before dawn, we need some time to recon as well, so be ready to leave by three am, I suggest we all have early nights.”

“Someone gonna tell Wolverine?” Bobby asked.

Scott smiled, “I nominate you.”

“Oh,” the Iceman frowned, “it is Little League all over again.”

X-Men: The (fan fic) Series

A series of short stories in a fictional X-Men TV Universe.