RECRUITMENT DRIVE

Part I: Drafted

By Dino Pollard

Maryhill Cemetary

A small service, small turnout. Some of his old friends from his days when he played superhero, and then some others from his days as a globe-trotting superhero. They all gather around the grave and watch as the coffin is slowly lowered into the ground.

“…and so, on this day, we commit the body of Peter Winston Wisdom to the ground,” he says. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

They stand around and they share some past stories of their time with Pete Wisdom. Ex-Black Air operative, ex-member of the mutant band of heroes called Excalibur. Wisdom had many problems. He was a chronic smoker, he drank. He had a mouth that would make a sailor blush and all around, he was just an unpleasant guy at times. But, for all his faults, he was still a good man.

“Kind of surprised Kurt’s not here,” says Brian Braddock.

“Could say the same thing about Psylocke,” notes Piotr Rasputin.

“She wanted to be here,” says Brian. “But she said it would be too painful. Aside from that, she hasn’t returned any of my calls. What about Kitty?”

“I haven’t spoken with her in some time, actually,” says Piotr. “But I saw her here for a little bit. She left shortly before the priest closed the ceremony. I suppose she didn’t feel comfortable given her past with Wisdom.”

“Makes me kind of surprised to see you here, actually,” says Brian.

“Wisdom may have been many things, Brian, and despite our… problems with each other, he was still my teammate,” says Piotr. “It’s only right I come by to pay my respects.”

“Understood,” says Brian. “Listen up, there’s a pub not far from here. We’re planning to go there, have a drink. Pete would’ve wanted it that way. You up for it?”

“I…” he begins, and then stops. “Yes, I think I will.”

As the two former teammates leave the cemetary, a man stands nearby and watches it all traverse. He walks up to the grave once the cemetary is clear and looks down at the headstone. In the palm of his hand is a zippo lighter. He tries to light it, but it just sparks. No flame catches on.

“Need a light?”

He sees a young, Hispanic man standing by his side. He snaps her fingers, and a small flame appears at the tips of his thumb and index finger. The man places a cigarette over the flame and lights it.

“Much obliged,” he says. “Sunspot, right?”

“Roberto, or Bobby, actually,” he says. “We’re not in the field.”

“Right, Bobby then.”

“So how does it feel to be a dead man, Mister Wisdom?” asks Bobbyu.

“Quite good, actually,” he replies. “Although this isn’t the first time I’ve been considered dead. I think I have three other graves somewhere around the world.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” says Bobby. “So where do we go from here?”

“X-Corporation is doing their thing, the X-Men are doing theirs,” says Wisdom. “So we should get a move-on. But first, care to join me for a whiskey? I’m suffering from alcohol deprivation.”

“Sounds like an idea,” says Bobby.

“Glad to hear it,” says Wisdom. “Then we can also discuss the matter of the Damocles Foundation and DaCosta International.”

“I’m just the chairperson of the Damocles Foundation and as of now, I haven’t been declared fit to inherit DaCosta International,” says Bobby.

“And that’s what we’re going to discuss, lad,” says Wisdom.

X-Corps HQ; New Mexico

The man known only as Bishop stands with folded arms. He stands in a large subway of some sort, made completely of metal. He watches as a monorail races through the tunnel. It is only a few cars long. When it comes to a stop, the hatch opens and a man with shaggy brown hair that has a white streak in it steps out. He is dressed in a black suit with red tie and he leans on a cane.

“Doctor Campbell,” says Bishop. He extends his hand to his visitor.

“Rory, please,” replies Campbell. He shakes Bishop’s hand with his free hand. “I see you’re making use of the uniforms we had designed.”

“Yes sir,” says Bishop, looking down at his uniform. Unlike the X-Men uniforms of old, these uniforms have a more authoritative feel to them. Almost like police officers. For Bishop, they remind him of uniforms from when he served in the XSE.

“How are we doing so far?” asks Rory.

“We’ve been able to make use of this abandoned Hulkbuster base as the central headquarters of our operation,” replies Bishop. “Wisdom and I both run operations from this location. With Cable’s assistance, we’ve rennovated several of his safehouses across the globe into X-Corps stations.”

“I see,” says Rory. “Who’s on staff here?”

“Myself and Wisdom, as you are already aware,” replies Bishop. “Our active agents onbase currently consist of Psylocke, Sunspot, Nightcrawler, and Warp Savant.”

Bishop leads Rory to an elevator. The doors shut and Bishop says, “Cerebra Chamber.” The elevator begins to rise a bit and comes to a stop. The doors open and Bishop leads the way out, with Rory following.

“Cerebra Chamber?” asks Rory.

“Improvements on Cerebro,” replies Bishop. He steps up to a closed door and says, “Voiceprint ID – Bishop.”

“Confirmed,” comes the response of the computer. The doors slide open and Bishop steps inside. Rory looks around in amazement as he sees a large circular chamber, almost like a band shell, sitting in the middle of the room. Inside is a woman seated in a chair with a large helmet covering her head, her purple hair spilling out.

“What is Cerebra?” asks Campbell.

“Think of it as Cerebro’s big sister,” comes the reply from the woman seated inside Cerebra. “Hullo Rory. I see that the bionic leg seems to be working nicely.”

“That it is, Psylocke,” says Campbell. He taps his right leg with his cane and it makes the sound of wood striking metal. He notices a man with blue hair, many piercings, and tattoos seated at a monitor with his feet perched on the console. “Who’s that?”

The man’s body seems to disassemble into bits and pieces before vanishing. Those bits rematerialize a few feet from Rory until the man stands before him, fully corporeal.

“Warp Savant,” says Bishop. “This is Doctor Rory Campbell, our liason.”

“Cerebra boosts the telepathic scanning abilities to a global range, and it allows for more precise locating,” says Savant.

“I see,” says Campbell. “And with the bodysliding technology, we can reach them instantaneously, as well as locate any spikes which may serve as Black Womb installations.”

“Ixnay on the odyslidebay,” says Savant.

“What?” asks Campbell.

“Cassandra did a lot of damage to it when she used it for her own purposes,” replies Bishop. “It’s taking more time than the Cerebra modifications, unfortunately.”

“And how goes the recruiting?” asks Rory.

“So far, so good,” replies Bishop. “We’ve had two months since departing from the Institute, and in that time we’ve managed to assemble quite a few operatives who have been associated with the X-Men at some point or another.”

“Who do we have so far?” asks Rory.

“I’ll show you,” replies Savant. He teleports once more in his own unique fashion and rematerializes at the computer. Rory and Bishop approach from behind and Savant brings up a list of all the different X-Corps operatives.

“Four branches across the globe,” says Bishop. “You already know the status of our branch, X-Corps America. X-Corps Europe is based out of Muir Isle. X-Corps Asia is in Japan, operating out of one of Cable’s former safehouses. Finally, X-Corps Australia utilizes the X-Men’s former base in the Outback. Each branch consists of six to seven operatives.”

“Not bad,” says Rory. “And Black Womb?”

“Our top priority,” replies Bishop. “X-Corps Australia has located a base of theirs somewhere in New Guinea.”

“New Guinea?” asks Rory.

“They’re going where no one will look,” replies Psylocke. “Unfortunately for them, Cerebra detected a large spike in that area.”

Black Womb HQ; New Guinea

Black Womb agents patrol the perimeter of the Black Womb installation. With state of the art security systems and some of the most highly-trained soldiers serving as their security staff, Amanda Mueller believes her installation to be impregnable. However, she did not think of an intrusion from an enemy who is invisible to the naked eye and can travel almost anywhere without being seen, regardless of how small the area may be.

Energy crackles from an open power outlet, and the energy seems to shoot out. The energy begins to take the shape of a man wearing some sort of glass helmet over his head that has a black M on it. Once he appears, he sees two guards before him with their backs to him. He reaches behind his back and draws a nightstick of sorts. He strikes each of the guards with it before they have a chance to catch sight of him or make any sound.

The intruder concentrates his thoughts, reaching out.

{Archer here, I’m in.}

{Good, now let’s just get rid of those security systems so we can join you,} comes the reply from his squad leader, Maverick.

Archer moves to the large generator before him and transmutes his body back into energy form. He travels inside the generator, disrupting it from within. The generator shorts out, and the entire facility goes dark as the power is completely cut off, even the back-up generators.

{Go.}

{Rictor, you’re up.}

At the facility’s perimeter, security guards struggle to activate nightvision goggles. The ground beneath their feet rumbles, causing them to lose their footing. The guards move to regain their composure when another shockwave is sent through the grounds at their feet.

{Nightvision on, people. Hit ’em hard and hit ’em fast.}

The first on the scene is a slender man with a bald head, pointed ears, and a feral appearence. The sleeves of his jacket are rolled up, and he bears a resemblence to Max Schreck in the Nosferatu film. He attacks with a brutal savagery, the claws which are on the tips of his fingers slicing through the security guards with ease.

Two guards lift their guns, trying to target the feral mutant in their sights. Before they can fire, the barrels of their guns are sliced off by a man wielding dual swords. He delivers a high kick to one guard and slams the hilt of his sword against the forehead of the other.

As more guards try to rush out, something slams into them with incredible strength and speed, tossing them about as if they weighed almost nothing. Combined with that comes a drop in the temperature and several concussive blasts of crimson energy from a man with long hair, a beard, and wings attached to his back. To help further the attack, another man with a gold mask covering his face leaps into the fray, holding two semiautomatic weapons in his hands.

“Fekt, too easy,” says the man with the swords.

{Don’t get cocky, Shatterstar. And maintain verbal silence. If you have something to say, use the psi-web Mimic established.}

{Let’s just get this overwith,} says Wildchild. {Places like these give me the creeps. Too many bad memories.}

{I know what you mean.}

{Enough babbling, we cannot let Archer have all the spoils of war,} says Shatterstar. He breaks out in a run towards the entrance. Proudstar darts to the door in what seems like the blink of an eye and blocks Shatterstar’s way. Proudstar wedges his hands between the doors and forces them apart with his superhuman strength.

{After you,} says Proudstar, stepping to the side and gesturing inside with his hand. Shatterstar simply walks past him and Proudstar follows. Wildchild, Mimic, Maverick, and Rictor follow behind.

{Split up,} says Maverick. {Black Womb is known for experimentation on mutants, so I want to make sure any prisoners are released.}

“And that is that,” says Archer, looking over his handiwork on the generator. Upon hearing Maverick’s command, he prepares to carry it out. Before he can transform into his energy form however, an energy whip wraps around his neck and flings him into the wall. He pulls himself to his feet, gasping for breath. He draws his nightstick and it transforms into energy.

“Congratulations, you got a shot in,” he says. “Hope you enjoyed it, because it won’t happen again.”

“Yes, it will,” says his assailant. A woman with purple hair, a white face, and red markings on her face, almost like warpaint. She holds the energy whip in her hand and cracks it with a snap of her wrist.

“Who the hell are you?” asks Archer.

“Dominia,” she replies. “You came here on a suicide mission, spike. And for that, you have my respect.”

“Doesn’t that just make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside,” says Archer.

“Regardless, it will take more than respect to save your life.”