SUPERNOVA

Part VII: The Renaissance

By Ryan Krupienski

The room is dark, but her indigo-blue skin and long, red hair are apparent thanks to the light emanating from the large television screen. She sits in a comfortable leather chair, watching an image of a sprawling palace-like structure surrounded by a huge crowd of men and women. There must be thousands of people there; she wonders how many of them are mutants? As the image of a hispanic woman with silky black hair comes onto the screen, the blue-skinned woman presses a button on the remote in her hand, causing the volume to be turned up.

“This is Nancy Tywan for CNN, reporting live from Geneva, Switzerland. Today, an unprecedented event is taking place, as Professor Cassandra Xavier, headmistress of the Xavier Institute and founder of the X-Men, is taking her campaign for mutant civil rights to the United Nations. We’re not aware of all the details, but we believe that Professor Xavier intends to try and have the X-Men’s vigilante status nullified and perhaps have them become officially sanctioned and operated by the United Nations. This could mean a huge step forward for mutant rights not just in the United States, but around the world.”

“Professor Xavier went inside the United Nations headquarters just a short while ago, accompanied by two of her X-Men, the team leaders codenamed Cyclops and Storm, and United States senator and presidential candidate Robert Kelly. The conference has not begun yet, as many delegates are still en route, but Professor Xavier had this to say when asked about how she felt the precedings today would go.”

The image on the screen changes to that of a bald, older woman. “Above all other institutions in the world, the United Nations is dedicated to making, and keeping, peace, and that is what I want, for there to be peace between human and mutant. Regardless of any difference of opinion, I don’t see how anyone could want otherwise. I trust that we will make much progress here today. Like Jean’s speech in Washington not too long ago, I believe this will be another landmark for mutantkind and a step in the right direction for humanity as a whole.”

Cassandra fades out and the reporter returns. “Professor Xavier was referring to Jean Grey-Summers, who delivered a speech to kick off the mutant rights campaign at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, DC. According to her friends and family in the X-Men, she has fallen ill recently but nonetheless urged her teammates to push ahead with the campaign. Alex Summers, her brother-in-law, noted that we can expect to see Missus Summers make a grand return to the public eye in the near future.”

“However, everything is not quite as smooth for the mutant crusade as it may seem. Earlier this week, the Vatican released an official statement condemning the mutant rights campaign. As the statement puts it, ‘There are absolutely no grounds for considering mutation to be in any way similar or even remotely analogous to God’s plan for the human race.’ Since mutation is not covered in the Bible, the twelve-page document says, it must be considered an abberation and not the natural order of things. The document calls on all Catholic politicians around the world to vote against legislation that would endow civil rights to mutant citizens. Just a short while ago, Warren Worthington the Third, co-CEO of Worthington International and also one of the X-Men, made an official statement in response to the Vatican’s declaration.”

The image on the screen changes yet again, this time to a display of Archangel, his blue skin and feathered wings fully exposed, standing at a podium in front of the Palais de Nations. Several of his fellow X-Men stand around and behind him as he speaks. “It’s unfortunate that an influential organization such as the Vatican has chosen to use this chance at peace between human and mutant societies to instead declare a sort of ‘holy war’ against mutant civil rights. Every human being has the right to their personal and religious beliefs, but in America and many other countries across the world, there is a clear line drawn to separate the government and any religious institution. Neither myself nor any of my constituents, human and mutant alike, understand how granting mutant citizens full and equal protection under the law will impede on the rights of any religious persons or institutions. We seek only to ensure equality for an entire group of people who for too long have been feared and misunderstood.”

The news ancor returns to the screen and continues, “As we have continued to wait to receive word on the conference soon to begin inside the United Nations headquarters, the X-Men seem to have taken this event as an opportunity to individually introduce themselves to the media. They come from all corners of the world and in some ways are as different as can be, but they all share a common trait – they are mutants, and more than that, many of them say, they are a family.” Images of several different X-Men begin to flash across the screen as the reporter continues, “Piotr Rasputin, a painter and one-time farmer hailing from Siberia; Danielle Moonstar, a teacher whole hails from a Cheyenne Indian tribe in America; Sean Cassidy, a native of Ireland and a former Interpol agent; and many more, who we will be profiling throughout the day. Of course, one of the most recognizable faces in the crowd is former popstar Alison Blaire, who brought her one year-old daughter Rebecca wi-“

The image goes to black and the sound dies away, and the blue-skinned woman in the room says, “Lights on.” The room is illuminated, and she turns her head to her right to see three others sitting near her – a large, muscular man with short, blonde hair and a feral look about him; a lithe young man with silvery-white hair; and a medium-built blonde man twirling a ring of fire around one of his fingers.

“I don’t know about you all, but I’m personally enjoying the show,” the blue-skinned woman says with a grin. “I’m thoroughly amused.”

“Eh, we should bomb the place… take ’em all out in one swoop, if ya ask me,” the large man next to her says.

She shakes her head at the idea. “No, absolutely not. It’s obvious this whole situation is going to get out of hand, though if the X-Men and this fake Xavier succeed and countries begin to grant civil rights to mutants… what better time to launch our own campaign than afterwards?”

The three men nod in agreement, and the woman smiles. “Then it’s settled. We will make our comeback, but not yet. We have to wait for the perfect moment to introduce the new Brotherhood of Mutants to the world…”

Genosha

Charles Xavier sits in a dimly-lit room with metal walls, facing a large holographic projection showing a map of the world. Standing next to him is a brunette woman wearing a pair of track pants and a white t-shirt. She was outside exercising before being summoned by her longtime friend, and while she understands the importance of the situation at hand, she fully intends to return to her workout as soon as possible. Though she’s close to Xavier in age, she barely looks forty, and she wants to keep it that way.

Her name is Amelia Voght, and over the years she has been a friend, lover, and even enemy to the X-Men’s founder. Theirs has been an often tumultuous relationship, and the cause of that chaos has for the most part been the man called Magneto. Amelia served as one of Magneto’s Acolytes for quite some time, seeing no hope in Xavier’s dream of peace between human and mutant, and fought against the X-Men on several occasions. Even though this project to rebuild Genosha has been underway for nearly a year, and Amelia herself has been here for most of it, she is still getting used to the idea of Xavier and Magneto working together.

“Are they coming?” Amelia asks, her eyes studying the glowing map floating in the air before her.

Charles nods. “They’ll be here shortly.”

“Charles,” Amelia says, placing one of her hands on the back of his hoverchair, “have you seen the news?”

“No, I’ve been putting my attention solely toward tracking down any of my students who may have escaped from Cassandra,” Charles tells her. “Why?”

“Well, I was listening to the radio while I was jogging, and it seems this Nova woman has made her next move,” Amelia tells him. “She’s taken the X-Men to the United Nations.”

Charles turns his head to look at Amelia, shock evident on his face. “What?”

“It’s true,” comes another man’s voice, as the door to the room slides open and Erik Lehnsherr and Cain Marko walk in. “I just saw it.”

“I suppose I should have a TV built into this thing,” Charles quips as he pats one of the arms of his hoverchair. “What has she done, exactly?”

“Taking the campaign for mutant rights to the UN council, it seems,” Erik answers.

“I don’t understand,” Charles says with a shake of his head. “What is she doing?”

“How about you get to tellin’ us why ya called this meeting, Chuck,” Cain says, standing tall behind the others in the room with his arms crossed. “We gonna see some action or what?”

“Oh, yes,” Charles says as he turns his attention back to the holographic map. “I believe I’ve located a handful of my former students who are on the run from Cassandra.”

“Those glowing red dots, I assume?” Erik asks as he studies the map.

“Yes,” Charles replies, nodding. “Cable, Jubilee, and a mutant I don’t recognize are at the northern end of the African continent. Nightcrawler is not incredibly far away, maybe six miles, and there seems to be an alien lifeform with him. I suspect a third individual, due to the fact that the excess energy released when Kurt teleports indicates that he’s moving multiple subjects.”

“How do we know one group isn’t going after the other?” Amelia asks.

“We don’t,” Charles admits. “However, due to his constant and erratic teleportation, I believe Nightcrawler and his company are most definitely on the run. I can’t say for sure what’s going on with Cable’s group, but their slow movement tells me they are traveling by foot, and that certainly wouldn’t make sense if they were going after Kurt. However…”

“We must assume nothing,” Erik cuts in. “In fact, this entire thing could be a ploy to lure us out. Cassandra obviously isn’t an idiot, she’s covered all of her bases so far – she’s certainly not counted you or I out, Charles.”

“I’ve no doubt of that, Erik,” Charles says. The hoverchair turns around so that Charles faces Erik, and he continues, “However, on the chance that these former students of mine are indeed on the run, someone needs to help them.”

“Just say the word, Chuck,” Cain declares. “I’ll be on the way.”

Charles shakes his head. “No, Cain, not you,” he says. He looks back at Erik and says, “You must go.”

“I figured as much,” Erik says, unmoving.

“Bullshit…”

“Cain, please,” Charles snaps. “Erik is their best chance. Don’t take it personally.”

“I should go as well,” Amelia says. “My powers may be rusty, but I can still teleport and scramble bio-signatures.”

“No, Amelia,” Charles tells her. “We need to keep our numbers here as strong as possible.”

“Besides, I’m more than capable of handling a cadre of X-Men,” Erik says, a cocky grin crossing his face. “Even in my old age.”

“So it’s settled, then,” Charles says, looking at Cain, Amelia, and then Erik. “You’re going to help the X-Men.”

Palais de Nations

She stands at the podium that is the focal point of the large conference hall, hundreds of pairs of eyes set firmly on her form. Every seat in the room is filled, from those on the main level to those up in the balcony. There are even people standing in the aisles, so eager to hear what Cassandra Nova Xavier has to say that they don’t mind the lack of a seat. This is a history-making event.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for allowing me to speak to you today,” Cassandra begins. “We are at a crossroads in our history – it is time to decide whether we want to move forward as allies, or as enemies. I hope you all, like myself, agree that it is of the utmost importance that we choose the former. Neither side of this conflict can benefit from the continuation of this cold war, or from a full-scale genetic war. We must finally take steps to bring human and mutant together in peace.”

There is a brief applause, and then Cassandra continues. “As you all are aware, my intentions are to expand upon the mutant rights campaign introduced in the United States of America and turn it into a global effort. While the mutant massacre in Seattle served as a wake-up call of sorts for the American people, the torture and slaughter that goes unnoticed across the world, especially in third world countries, can no longer be ignored. We must take steps to ensure that these people – these human beings – are provided protection from such horror. Only then can we calm the tide of mutant terrorist groups who constantly threaten our way of life, by uniting as one against them – we will be much more powerful a force, peace will have that much better of a chance, if we work for it as a single, cohesive unit. For that to happen, mutants must first be granted the same rights and protections under the law.”

“However,” Cassandra says, the change of tone in her voice serving to indicate her move to a different topic, “there is one extremely pressing matter that I believe must be dealt with before talks of peace can truly begin. This matter involves a man who has been a plague on both human and mutant alike for nearly fifteen years. He has terrorized our world on too many occasions to count, and has justified his actions by declaring the human race to be inferior to mutants. I’m sure I do not have to tell you that the man I am referring to is none other than Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, also called Magneto.”

There is a brief moment of chatter among the audience at the mention of Magneto’s name. Cassandra waits patiently for it to quiet down, and the wait is thankfully not long. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have been attempting to discover Magneto’s location ever since his last terrorist attack, in Washington, DC. I realize this has been a high priority for the United Nations as well, which is why I am bringing this particular matter to your attention. Like all of you, I want this man brought to justice. He must not be allowed to continue his reign of terror any longer, and if we do not act soon, he will do just that. If you would, please refer to the reports you were all given before these precedings began.”

The various delegates all open the reports on Magneto given to them earlier, and browse over the information as Cassandra begins to speak again. “As you’ll see in these reports, I have at long last tracked Magneto to his latest base of operations. He is currently residing in Genosha, rebuilding the nation right under all of our noses.”

“Professor Xavier,” one of the delegates, a short-haired black woman, calls out, “please tell me how it is possible he is hiding in Genosha? A team that is in place to monitor the country has reported no activity on the island for some time now. Are you sure your data is accurate?”

“Yes,” Cassandra says with a confident nod. “And I have an explanation for the point you bring up. Magneto is not working alone – the mutant bio-signature of Amahl Farouk, a telepath with a history of criminal activity, has been detected in Genosha as well. He is a powerful illusionist and I believe he is the reason your team has come back with nothing to report – he has been tampering with their memories. I have come to the conclusion that, between telepathic manipulation employed by Farouk, and Magneto’s wealth of powerful technology, they have been able to mask their presence and their operation from the world at large.”

“And what exactly is their operation, Professor?” asks another delegate, an overweight, white-haired man with a Russian accent. “And how do you know about it?”

“I know because I have a long history with both men, and over the years I’ve been developing better methods of tracking them,” Cassandra answers. “As for what their operation is… that’s why I am here. Above all else, I am here today, I requested this conference, because right now, Magneto is building a weapon that will undoubtedly be the end of civilization as we know it. Please, observe the screen behind me.”

The lights in the room dim, and all eyes fall on the large monitor that sits on the wall behind Cassandra. Schematics of a machine of some sort appear on the screen as she continues, “Upon further investigation of Magneto’s base of operations, I discovered he’s not only built himself quite the fortress, but he’s also constructing this machine you see behind me. The blueprints and a more detailed explanation of what it is are included in the reports you’ve all been given, but I will be blunt with you – Magneto is building weapons of mass destruction.”

Another outburst of noise, louder this time. With the exception of the large group of X-Men seated up front near Cassandra, everyone is in a frenzy, everyone has a comment to make about the woman’s announcement. “There is more,” Cassandra says, having turned the volume up on her mounted microphone in an attempt to be heard better over the commotion. “Please, there is more you need to hear.”

The noise dies down relatively quickly, and Cassandra is at last able to continue. “Magneto is building weapons of mass destruction, of this I am certain,” Cassandra says. “I have recorded irregular bursts of electro-magnetic energy in the area of Genosha, and I believe these are due to Magneto running some smaller-scale tests on his machine. Again, every bit of data, which spans over several weeks, is included in the reports.”

“What will this machine do, Professor Xavier?” a petite Philipino woman with long, black hair asks.

“Literally, it will turn our world upside down,” Cassandra says, her voice more grim than ever. “Using this machine, he can and will reverse the polarity of the planet. All electricity will be lost, polar ice caps will melt and flood the Earth… it will be utter and complete chaos.”

The image behind Cassandra goes through an animation along the lines of the occurrances she’s just described. She continues, “I believe the time is near when he plans to use this machine for its intended purpose. We can’t afford to let that happen – we must take action, and quickly.”

The monitor clicks off, and the lights in the conference hall return to their full brightness. As this happens, yet another delegate, an elderly Indian man, asks, “And what do you suggest we do? Magneto is the most dangerous man on the face of the planet.”

Cassandra smiles inwardly, not wanting anyone to see her delight upon hearing the question. “That is where I, and my X-Men, come in. If you would, please refer to the portfolio that came with the report you were given earlier.”

Those who have said portfolios do as they are asked, and Cassandra begins again, “Here you have full profiles on all of my X-Men, including definitions of their various skills and mutant abilities. As you can see, they are all highly-trained and perfectly equipped to handle terrorists of Magneto’s calibre. Due to our long, conflicted history with the man, I can also say that of any group of people in the world, my students are the best chance we have of stopping Magneto once and for all. Which is why I am here today – I want to officially present the X-Men to you, ladies and gentlemen of the United Nations, as operatives in the quest to stop Magneto’s plans and finally bring him to justice.”

Through the use of her telepathy, Cassandra can sense the myriad of emotions being felt by the large audience; thoughts of confusion, hope, anxiety, anger, and most of all fear flow through her mind as she looks over the crowd. She looks to her X-Men, exchanging a glance with several of them, and Cyclops and Storm in particular give her an affirmative nod. However, she is loathe to discover that most of the audience is not as convinced by her proposal as her X-Men are. She will have to fix that.

“Ladies and gentlemen…”

“Excuse me, ‘Professor’,” comes a man’s voice from an unknown place within the audience, his tone incredibly condescending. Cassandra turns towards the source of the voice, and the man who it belongs to stands from his seat. “But how do we know this isn’t just one big set-up? How do we know you’re not in league with Magneto and this Amahl Farouk?”

Cassandra narrows her eyes at the man, but manages to keep her cool. “Sir, I am trying to make peace here. And as I’ve outlined here for you all, Magneto certainly would not need any help whatsoever in carrying out his plans.”

“And your X-Men just happen to be the world’s only hope?” the man retorts. “A group of mutant vigilantes who have operated outside the law for over ten years, sanctioned by no government agency in the world whatsoever, now suddenly go public and come to the UN to ask permission to go after Magneto? My apologies, Miss Nova, but I’m not sold.”

“My last name is ‘Xavier’, sir, and I’m sorry if this is confusing for you,” Cassandra says. “I thought I’d made my goals here clear – I want peace between human and mutant, I want civil rights for mutants across the world. And as I remarked earlier, I believe that my X-Men, working with the United Nations to bring down Magneto, is the first step in achieving these things.”

“What exactly are you asking, then, Professor Xavier?” another woman, sitting a few rows away from the the stage, asks. “You’re asking for our blessing, for us to allow you to go after Magneto?”

Cassandra answers, but her mouth does not move. {What I am asking, ladies and gentlemen, is for support,} she says into all of their minds. Cassandra’s influence begins to expand over the audience and, with the exception of the X-Men, the people in the conference hall begin understanding exactly what Cassandra means. It’s subtle, no one really notices it, but they all begin to agree with her.

“Today is the day that we make a difference in our world,” Cassandra says, as the people in the audience rise from their seats and begin to applause her. “Today is the day that Magneto will fall!”

Somewhere In Africa

“We’re close.”

The words come from Cable, who’s leading his young companions, Jubilee and Proteus, through the thick sands of the Sahara Desert. They’ve been here what seems like an eternity, thanks to the almost unbearable heat, but in fact it’s been only a couple of hours. They’ve continued on the path towards their teammates, Nightcrawler, Deathbird, and Fantomex – the only X-Men, like them, to have escaped from the clutches of Cassandra’s telepathy. They’ve been getting nearer since first bodysliding here, but they are continuously teleporting, preventing the two groups from getting all that close.

“You tried the old telepathy phone again yet?” Jubilee asks, squinting her eyes to shield them from the scorching sun. She wishes more than anything she had a pair of sunglasses with her.

“No luck with that yet,” Cable tells her. “I don’t understand why I’m not getting through. It has to have something to do with Kurt constantly teleporting.”

“How far are we?” Proteus asks, looking aimlessly around his surroundings.

“Little more than three miles,” Cable answers. “If Kurt would just quit with the teleporting, we’d be able to catch up faster.”

“Well I’d personally like to get this part of the mission over with so we can get back to our little homebase and…”

“Wait!” Cable suddenly says, interrupting Jubilee. “I have them.”

{Nightcrawler?}

{What… Cable? Is that you?} comes Nightcrawler’s response through the newly-establish psi-link.

{Don’t be alarmed,} Cable says. {We’re here to help you. And we’re not with Cassandra.}

{Where are you? And who is ‘we’?} Nightcrawler asks.

{Jubilee and Proteus are with me,} Cable answers. {We’re hiding from Cassandra as well. We tracked you here and came to help. We’re about three miles south of your present location.}

{How do we know we can trust you?} Nightcrawler questions. Instead of more words from the telepath, Cable, Jubilee, and Proteus suddenly vanish from their location and rematerialize mere feet away from Nightcrawler, Deathbird, and Fantomex.

“Hold still, terrans!” Deathbird yells at them, stepping in front of Nightcrawler and Fantomex. “Or you will surely regret it.”

“Oh, clam it, Tweety,” Jubilee fires back at her. “We’re your back-up.” She turns her head to look at Cable and finishes with, “Next time you do that, warn me first, okay?”

Disregarding Jubilee’s request, Cable instead walks toward Nightcrawler. “I’m a powerful telepath, Kurt. Cassandra would either have to kill me or put me in a coma. She can’t control me like she has the others, and if she could – you and your pals here would already be down for the count.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that if I were you,” Fantomex says, earning him a cold glare from Cable. “Who are you?”

“This is Cable, Fantomex,” Nightcrawler says, as the two groups move closer to one another. “He’s an old friend.”

“Dude, you look like shit,” Jubilee comments as she takes a good look at the fuzzy blue man. “And dead tired.”

“Thanks,” Nightcrawler replies sarcastically. He becomes serious again as he turns back to Cable and asks, “What’s going on? What has Cassandra done? Are we… are we all that’s left?”

Cable does not answer at first, instead he scouts around the area, using the technology of his one bionic eye to see far into the distance. He sighs with relief when he catches sight of some small, far-off buildings.

“We should head towards some shelter, that way,” Cable declares, pointing in the direction where he can see the buildings. “I can’t teleport us there, my bodysliding unit needs to recharge, but it’s doesn’t look too far away. We can start walking, I’ll try and hail Blaquesmith back at the Z’noxx Chamber…”

Nightcrawler gives Cable a puzzled look. “What?” he asks. “Nathan, what aren’t you telling us?”

“Don’t worry, Kurt, I have no intention of keeping anything from you,” Cable says as he starts walking, motioning for the small group of X-Men to follow his lead. “We definitely have a lot to talk about…”

The Blackbird

Heading east over the Atlantic Ocean, towards the northen tip of Africa, the sleek aircraft soars silently through the air, piloted gracefully by Domino and Bishop, who sit next to each other in the cockpit. Occupying several other seats behind them are Iceman, Kwannon, Skin, and Ecstacy. They are all a bit on edge, due to the nature of their assignment – take down their very own teammates, at any cost.

“Y’know,” Skin says, breaking the silence that has filled the plane for most of the trip, “I think we got shafted. Why the hell can’t we be part of the big media party showing off the team? It’s because I’m gray, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s because someone needs to bring in our renegade teammates, and Cassandra happens to think we’ll be the best group for the job,” Domino answers him. “We’ll get our time to shine, Espinosa. Just relax.”

Kwannon turns to look at Iceman and asks, “Are you okay, Bobby?”

Iceman shrugs. “I guess,” he replies. “Not too keen on possibly having to fight my own girlfriend… hell, and she’s your family.”

“I think Cassandra sent us because, more than anyone, we should be able to get through to Jubilee,” Kwannon tells him. “I think we can do this without it turning ugly.” She lets out a sigh and adds, “At least I hope we can.”

“We’re officially back in Africa, people,” Bishop announces, interrupting all other conversation. “Nightcrawler’s bio-signature seems to have settled down for the moment, and I’ve also locked onto Cable, Jubilee, and Proteus. They seem to be heading north through Morocco towards Spain.”

“I’m still not too happy about Cassandra lying to us about knowing where Kurt and the others were,” Domino quips. “We should have been out here sooner.”

“You know she wanted to lure out Cable first,” Bishop informs her. “Sometimes it’s best that we don’t know everything. Some of us might have jumped the gun and caused some problems. That’s the last thing we need right now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Domino says, shaking her head. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.” Speaking a bit louder, she calls back to the passengers behind her, “We’re getting pretty close, so I suggest turning your psi-scramblers on at this point.”

“Don’t want Cable messin’ around in my head,” Iceman says as he presses a button on the thin, plastic device wrapped around his wrist. He then moves his hand up to his ear to secure a small device resembling an earpiece in place. “We got extras for the rest of them, right?”

“I got ’em, Drake,” Ecstacy says, holding a few of the devices up from her lap for Iceman to see.

“ETA twenty minutes, everyone,” Bishop calls back to his team. “Get ready.”

CONTINUED IN X-MEN #29!