Blueshift | By : Nemain Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > Slash - Male/Male Views: 6098 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story. |
Blueshift Chapter Sixty Seven (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… We’ve decided to shanghai you to dance with
us. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and
Dracena are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting! J ProPhile: *GLOMP * Morgan: You out there? Readers/Reviewers: I swear this month gets busier
every year… Okay, this story is going to wrap up soon but you know the drill…
some loose ends for the next fic. Those of you on the Yahoogroup,
I’m posting a poll soon to see which sort of story you might like next. And
more MP soon… I hope!
Kitty
folded her hands primly on her knees and inhaled slowly, counting to ten as she
exhaled. “Okay, these are the facts as
we know them… We’re screwed.” She smiled
with false brightness at her friends and added, “Royally.”
“Ja,” Kurt sighed.
“That about sums it up.”
“Come on,
this is too coincidental,” Jamie cut in agitatedly. “We were *just * being shown how to use this
stuff this morning!”
“What stuff
would that be?” Kitty asked calmly. “The
weird metal bunk thing or maybe the door we can’t open? Or was it the shiny light fixture?”
“The ship’s
controls!” he groaned, raking his fingers through his hair. “Come on… there’s
no such thing as coincidence!”
Rahne
pulled on his elbow, tugging him down to the narrow metal bunk next to her. The
room they had been taken to was about twice as big as
her bedroom at the Institute but it was so sparsely furnished that it seemed
cavernous. Their voices echoed no
matter how softly they spoke and the varicolored metal fixtures were visually painful. “Jamie, calm down. There’s no way we can operate anything on
this ship. The real world doesn’t work
like that.”
“What’s
that supposed to mean?” he demanded, sounding more childish than he knew.
“She
means,” Kitty sighed patiently, “that the chances of the controls or anything
on this ship being the same as Lilandra’s sim are very minute and, even if they were the same down to
the last detail, the chances of us being able to get to a point where control
of the ship were feasible, none of us have any actual experience doing it and
it would most likely get us all killed at the very least.”
Kurt
nodded. “What she said…” He carefully laid
back against the bunk and frowned. “Are
we moving?”
“How would
we know?” Kitty sighed, picking at a thumbnail in nervous agitation. “Damn it… this is insane. I should’ve stayed at school for break…”
Kurt barely
managed to hold back a snarky comment. Instead, he directed his attention to
Rahne. “Can you…I don’t know…scent the
way out?” He winced at her sharp look. “Sorry…”
“Can’t
fault you for trying,” Rahne allowed. “Crap…
company.” The hiss-pop of the door
opening brought a hushed tension to the room.
A Shi’ar male they had not seen before stood, filling the doorway,
glaring at them as if they were the worst part of his day and, Rahne decided,
they probably were. She surreptitiously
gripped Jamie’s hand, squeezing harder than she realized. “You can’t keep us here,” she blurted. “We’re not fighting you… there’s rules
against capturing nonenemy combatants, you know!”
“Rahne,” Kitty whispered
loudly, “the Geneva Convention doesn’t apply to interstellar incidents!”
Rahne
rolled her eyes and blushed faintly. “Let
us go back and…and…”
“And we’ll
help you get Lilandra on your ship! That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Jamie
rushed. “I mean… she’s down there being
all lurky and sneaky and you’re up here being all mopey and pissy… Trade us for her.” He ignored the mixture of horrified, nervous
and relieved stares in his direction, trying to keep the Shi’ar’s
attention. “Please?” he added faintly.
“That,” the
captor said slowly, feeling the words before he said them. “Was
the plan.” He gestured for them
to rise, tapping his boot in irritation as he waited.
Kitty and
Kurt looped arms without thinking, trying to cling as close to one another as
possible, just in case. Kurt twisted his
tail around her waist as if that could protect her from the unknown, licking
his suddenly dry lips before addressing the Shi’ar. “Where are we going?” he asked slowly, trying
to make it easy for the man to understand the foreign tongue.
“I am Shi’ar. I am not stupid,” he spat. “Majestor D’ken requests and requires your presence immediately.”
The four
mutants exchanged startled, nervous looks.
“Why?” Rahne asked, swallowing hard.
Her insides roiled in acid nervous energy as she faced this creature,
this alien in every sense of the word. “Why
does he need there? Why can’t we just
stay here and wait for the trade, if that’s what you’re going to do?”
The man did
not address her but rather surveyed the small group. “Follow me,” he said, nodding curtly. He turned sharply on his heel and strode from
the room, leaving them no choice but to follow or face unknown wrath. He led them down a short, pleasantly lit hall
to a polished silver door inlaid with a pattern in what looked to be stones but
Kitty suspected to be more metal of some sort.
The door slid open with the now familiar hiss and pop at a touch of the Shi’ar’s hand and he stepped in and to one side, ushering
them into D’ken’s presence. The Majestor stood
with his back to them, staring down at some flat screen that cast his face in a
blue-green glow. It took a moment for
Kitty to realize they were in some sort of control room and D’ken
and the other Shi’ar around him were operating the ship, or at least some of
the ship’s functions. She leaned close
to Kurt’s ear and whispered her notion, only to earn a sharp glare from the one
who ushered them in. “Silence until you
are addressed directly,” he ordered. “Do
not disrespect the Majestor of Aerie!”
“Stand
down,” D’ken murmured, not even turning around. His hands moved over some unseen controls,
his posture relaxed and easy as he went about his business. He addressed his fellow Shi’ar in their home
tongue, the fast pace of the language and it’s odd glottal stops and clicking
noises making Kitty’s head ache as she tried to find some sort of pattern to
the words, some clue as to what they were saying. “I would like for you all to be in here
during this phase. Lilandra has failed
to comply in a timely manner… well, she has failed to comply in what *I*
consider a timely manner. Your
companions have issued an attack on us, we are retaliating.” He gestured to another Shi’ar male and
abandoned his post, turning to face his “guests”. “You have the unmitigated honor of being
aboard the vessel of the Majestor of Aerie when he
comes into his due. Rasden,
open the case…” He smiled, baring his
teeth. “I suggest you four sit
down. This might give you a bit of a
headache.”
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