With Malice Aforethought:

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

Blue, Gold and Black get briefed on their roles in the upcoming rescue. When you go up against the most dangerous mutants on the planet, you have to have a plan.



"Okay, this is what we're up against."

The schematics of a mansion like building slowly started to form from the metal pin-table in the war room, the people gathered nearby watching it intently. "Take a good look, we'll be going into the details of the layout and expected on site hazards and opponents soon. For now though, our main worry and consideration is this."

Leaning forward, Alison pressed both hands flatly on the table and dropped her communicator on the table.

"No metal." A short look was given to the one most immediately concerned by this, but the immediate nod she received in return more than reassured Alison that Kylun was fine with this. Regardless of what might happen to his weapons during combat, they at least knew that no harm would come to any of the team through their use by the other side anyway - the blades would simply pass through them, after all. "Anything which we normally work with that would normally be composed of even the slightest bit of metallic alloy will be replaced by ceramic composites and pretty much anything our people can whip up until departure time."

Taking a deep breath, she looked ahead steadily at the other three in the room with her.

"We're also going to assume they have a full telepath present, due to Lorna's condition. Because of this and taking into account that Nathan is still not up to a full mission as well as the fact that Jean is currently not full team yet… we are going in without a telepath of our own. Basically, this means each of the teams going out is being briefed separately and will be going in separately as well, operating as independent units during the entire duration of this mission. Two final things you need to know before we go into the nitty gritty. Obviously, no telepathic switchboard. And no metal means no comms."

Silence reigned in the room for a moment, the air heavy with the weight of what had just been said.

"Once we're in, we'll working blind."

Then, and only then, Alison smiled thinly.

"This means we start being creative."

---

"We've got complete plans of the house," Scott said, studying the Situation Room table's three-dimensional representation of the Brotherhood's beach house and grounds in Tampa. He'd grabbed the next briefing slot, and Ororo had given him a knowing look, telling him she had no problem briefing her team last. "Courtesy of a reliable source." He didn't elaborate, and there were no questions. Not even a knowing look from Wanda. Everyone was perfectly focused on the matter at hand. Precisely as they should be.

"The house is set back off the beach," he went on, "in a retirement community. Fairly large, walled grounds. I say house, but really, it's obviously closer to a mansion. Not as large as this one, but sizeable. I've uploaded the interior plans to your accounts - study them. Memorize them. We can't count on Lorna and Forge being in the first rooms we hit, obviously, and our concern is for as fast an in-and-out as possible."

He didn't need to explain why. All of them knew that any kind of an engagement with Magneto was to be avoided, even if they were heading to Tampa in force. Lorna and Forge were the priority here. This was not the endgame with the Brotherhood. They weren't ready. Pietro wasn't ready.

This was a rescue.

"Take a look at the deployment plan," he said as it came up on the screen. "We'll be utilizing the standard hand signals we've practiced for times when we have to run radio- and telepathy-silent, but there are going to be times when we're out of line of sight. Especially when… no, if we get into the mansion cleanly."

He was concerned about the Blackbird. Safest thing was to have Sam and Jean set down on the designated site, ready to lift off again for the pick-up as soon as they got the signal. Having them circling, which he would have preferred, would be asking for trouble, given what Magneto could do with the 'Bird if he saw it.

But it cut down on their mobility.

Thinking of Magneto led him to the next item on the agenda, and he regarded his teammates soberly. "Any of the three units could find themselves fighting a holding action if they run into the Brotherhood. There's no way, if that happens, to call for help from the other units. Best thing to do, if it's us, is to try and draw Magneto and his people away from the mansion so that the others have a chance to make the rescue." His smile was a bit rueful. "And yes," he said, acknowledging the ripple of bleak amusement that went through his audience, "I know that's easier said than done."

---

Two units on the ground, and Scott spared a moment to appreciate Sam's delicate touch on the VTOL as the Blackbird ascended again, just high enough to clear the trees as it headed for the third drop-point, the one closest to the house. He'd been a little peremptory on that score, but oh, well.

Being out of contact with the other units was not making him happy. Not at all. He stared hard at the house, then, as the Blackbird made a delicate touchdown, gestured for his unit to follow him out.

It was a beautiful day in Florida. Warm, perfectly clear.

Hope that's an omen... The Blackbird blasted into the air behind them, and Scott looked back over his shoulder, reaching out on the link in a brief caress that was more reassurance than anything else. Then he forced his mind back to business, signaling for the others to follow them.

Time for you to give back what doesn't belong to you, Erik...

~~~



Toad tries his hand at recruitment on the worst day possible. The X-men have no idea what lies in store for them.





“Now yes, if you’ll all just line up here. Name badges can be filled out with one of these pens. Yes, Magneto WILL see you today. Yes, you’ve come to the right place. Leave your resume right here – front AND side photographs if you have them, gentlemen and ladies. There are cookies in the foyer and let me tell you, they are excellent.”

Toad stepped back from the podium, watching the dozen or so costumed felons wandering through the hallways. He was a genius, more so than this stupid crippled kid that Magneto was so eager to bring on board. Forge wouldn’t have thought to hold a Career Fair to recruit new blood into the Brotherhood. And Magneto obviously thought the idea was a good one, which Toad felt showed that he still had a place at the boss’ side.

Which was why the first boom of scarlet light through the hallway came as a surprise. A masked face popped up from behind a chair. “Mister Toad?” it asked, “Are the folks in the black leather here for the job fair?”

Tongue rolling out of his mouth, Toad swore in a lisping voice. X-Men.

“Get them, you magnificent bastards! Show them what Brotherhood means!”

Magneto was going to be SO proud.

~~~



Working interviews are the worst kind. Particularly when you're up against professionals. The recruits fail to pass with flying colors.



They had come expecting the Brotherhood, and found an empty house. Which was worrying--and almost, if Kylun were to be honest with himself, something of a disappointment. The Brotherhood had earned its share of justice, and Kylun was by no means averse to playing the role of justice's instrument in this matter.

It was, therefore, almost a relief to catch sight of someone ducking into a room at the end of the hall. #One potential hostile, second floor, east end,# he reported. #Moving to engage.#

Kylun slipped through the door, taking up position behind a twitchy young man in a gaudy, multicolored costume, and cleared his throat. The young man whirled, yelped, and extended a hand, and Kylun ducked and rolled out of the way . . .

Of a beam of purple light that did not so much as crinkle the paint on the wall. The young man cursed, brought his other hand up, and widened the spread of light until the whole room was bathed in a roiling purple luminescence, shot through with green and pale brown in chaotic swirls.

Kylun straightened cautiously, watching the play of light on the walls. ". . . Is this supposed to hurt?" he asked curiously.

"It's, um . . . I call it Vomit Violet," the other man answered a little sheepishly. "It's supposed to incapacitate you with nausea?"

"Ah. I am a little queasy," Kylun admitted. And closed his eyes.

"Hey, no fair!"

A moment later, Kylun left the room. #One hostile, neutralized. I hope the rest of you are having better luck.#

---

Scott had seen a number of unusual mutations in his time. Some of the most unusual, in students at the school. He was even somewhat used to extreme physical mutations, especially since those with them very often tended to feel particularly alienated from the rest of society, and occasionally acted out on those feelings in moderately impressive ways that necessitated intervention by the X-Men.

This was, however, the first time he had seen a mutant who resembled a ball of tar. It was a person, wasn't it? Scott wondered with some bewilderment, tilting his head sideways and giving the tar-ball a closer look. Nothing that looked like facial features. Or, well, limbs.

I spoke too soon. The tar-ball was shifting, arms and legs and what had to be a head sprouting. Scott bit his lip at the hollow roar the... tar-person emitted.

"Crush you!" it informed him.

"I don't hardly think so," Scott murmured, one hand going to his visor. The half-strength blast hit the tar-person square in its chest - and it promptly turned into a puddle. Scott opened his mouth, then closed it again, coming forward cautiously and hoping that he hadn't... well, liquified the guy. Girl? The voice had sounded male.

The puddle shifted, something that was almost a face taking shape in it. "Ow," that hollow voice said reproachfully. "That hurt. Now I'm really going to have to kill you."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "What are you going to do?" he asked patiently, having no clue why he was bothering to engage in conversation. "Drown me?" There was a grumble from the tar-puddle, and little tendrils of tar, about the size of fingers, strained upwards for a minute, then dissolved back into the puddle.

All right. Nothing like going in expecting to be fighting the Brotherhood and instead having to take pity on a sentient oil-slick. "If you're still here when I get back," Scott said with a sigh, "I'll see what I can do to help you out."

"Are you feeling sorry for me?"

"You're a puddle. You're damned right I feel sorry for you."

---

The Piper stared in pure shock, hands falling slowly to his sides, the loud music he'd been emitting but moments before fading away. With one hand propped on his hip, he shifted his weight slowly to one side while tapping his chin in consideration. The lasers tracks on either side of him still smoked and his hair was frizzing slightly, the red and blonde locks no longer as slick looking as they'd been but five seconds ago, but apparently the brief moment of terror had been replaced by pure fascination.

"...you've gotta be kidding me."

And speculation.

"You! You're Alison Blaire, right? The rock singer?"

A long pause followed this, light dancing through the room as the woman facing him glowed in a steady, fierce sort of way. Slowly, an eyebrow rose in response to his comment, the lack of conflict actually bringing things to a civilized standstill as both opponents observed each other warily. Well, one more wary than the other, the woman wincing discreetly now and then whenever she had to look straight at the man's particularly lurid shirt. Despite anything anyone might care to say to her, the colors just did not match in any way meant to exist on this earth.

"Ha! You are Alison Blaire! Wait, what are you-"

"Oh, good grief." With an impatient hiss, she pointed above their heads at the sign hanging overhead, with an arrow pointing towards one of the side rooms. Ethically Ambiguous People Line Up Here For Jobs! "None of your business. But not that and I'll bet my reason's a hell of a lot better than yours, thank you very much. Now move it."

Blinking, the man moved to the side while she stalked by him, eyes narrowing a bit as thought furiously. And then, coming to a decision, darted through the door after her, trotting behind Alison while chattering cheerfully at her, ignoring the look of pure disbelief sent his way.

"Hey, wait! ...you know, you guys have much better looking suits. Screw this, can I sign up with you lot? The whole bad guy thing is so passé anyway. I wanna be a hero too! My name's Hartley, it's a pleasure to meet you. Say, do those pants come in-"

---

Ororo took a shallow breath and kept walking forward steadily through the huge ballroom, winds whirling by her at speeds that, thankfully, were more than fast enough to take one's breath away. Most particularly if that someone happened to be lost in the whirlwind, spinning about like a child's ill-loved top while being occasionally exposed to enough volts of electricity to ensure that any similarities with a roller coaster were utterly destroyed.
The heels of her boots clicked on the lovely hardwood floor of the room, the sound lost in the gale and Ororo firmly kept looking forward, refusing to even acknowledge the existence of the men vainly flailing (or wailing) for purchase or help of some sort. The chandelier stirred briefly at one point and then stilled again, the only pause in Ororo's progress as she made certain to keep the winds from affecting the delicate crystals high above. They were pretty and refracted the sun in such lovely ways and well, they were really the only thing in the room which had a chance of making her smile just now.

Finally, she reached the far door and opened it gracefully, stepping out with nary a look backwards. The miniature tornado stopped still as soon as the door clicked shut and several bodies hit the floor with various thuds (and one very miserable sploosh).

"...hey."

"...yeah."

"Oh great. Moron's still alive."

"Only means you can kill him yourself."

"Guuuys..."

"Shut up. Oh yeah, and next time? Don't call the lady wearin' leather 'you old windbag', okay Sprocket?"

"...you got it man. You got it."

"Idiot."

---

While they had been expecting the Brotherhood, the X-Men certainly were not expecting to find a bunch of strangers attacking them. Really rather odd strangers at that. Wanda dodged as she felt someone come up behind her, kicking out at the person as she rolled. Coming up to her feet, she gave the man in front of her a quick look. Who on earth was she fighting?

"Hey, you're kind of hot," the unprepossessing-looking, spikey-haired young man said, sounding surprised.

She paused, surprised. "Kind of?"

"Well," he said, looking flustered, "really hot, I mean. Except for the hair. What's with that?" He was giving her one of those up and down looks, and his eyes widened as he took in the details of her uniform. "Oh crap. You're an X-Man."

"And you're not from the Brotherhood...are you?" Oh God, she hoped not. The standards for entrance into the other gang was starting to slip. Then again...

"No, but I will be," the young man said determinedly, extending his hands. "Sorry, babe," he said, clearly attempting to sound cocky. "If you're an X-Man and I want to be part of the Brotherhood, gotta take you down."

Well, he hadn't blasted her to little pieces or anything like that. Wanda crossed her arms and sighed. But he did have the grand standing down nearly right. "What do you do exactly, son?"

"Son?" It was almost a squawk. "Hey, lady, unless you're a whole lot older than you look..." The air seemed to shimmer around his hands for a moment, and he grinned triumphantly. "Can't you feel it?"

"...feel what?"

His expression turned to one of intense concentration. "Getting hard to breathe?" he taunted gleefully. "Air getting all thick?"

Wanda thought about it for a second. "It's getting a little warm," she offered.

He looked taken aback, then his jaw clenched. "You're going to be falling on the ground in a second," he promised. "Gasping for air. Just wait."

Looking up at the sky and then all around, she finally started tapping her foot. "How long is this supposed to take? And what are you doing?" Turning her head, she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of something shiny and shrieked. "What are you doing to my hair?!"

He stared at her for a moment, clearly perplexed, but then shrugged. "Hey, some chicks would dig having a little extra body."

"I have enough already, thank you very much!" she snapped. "Oh for the love of God, what's your power?"

His eyes went very wide at the look she was giving him. "Uh. I control the weather. Sort of."

"How can you sort of control the weather?" Wanda glared.

"... I change the humidity. It's really cool, really, and one of these days I'll get it down..."

The look she gave him was incredulous. "I'm fighting a walking humidifer?"

He looked indignant. "I'm not a walking humidifier! I'm the Weather Wizard, thank you very much!"

"You don't control the weather, you make things uncomfortable and damp and sticky and not in the good way!" She threw her hands in the air. "Who hired you anyway?"

He looked smug. "I'm going to be working for Magneto!"

"So does he know exactly what you can do?"

"Well, I'm sure he's been informed, or I wouldn't have been invited."

Wanda had this horrific curiosity to find out exactly who had asked him to come. "Who invited you? Let's just call it a professional curiosity."

The Weather Wizard folded his arms across his chest, giving her a lofty look. "Do your worst, X-Man. I won't give away the Brotherhood's secrets."

Sighing, she quickly crossed over to him. He was a small enough person, skinny really, and she was able to haul him up by the back of his outfit. "One, your outfit is horrendous, you really need to talk to the person who made this for you. Two, I will not need to ask you again for who invited you. Three, I can make your kneecaps break with a twitch of my finger--the left has a stronger string attached, did you break that one?"

He gaped at her. "Okay, you're really creepy, even if you are hot."

Beaming, she nodded. "I can be worse, trust me. You messed up my hair and you're giving anyone with a smidgen of weather control powers a bad name. Or anyone who bears the name "witch" for that matter." She shook him slightly. "Have I also mentioned that it's that time of the month? Talk."

---

Jean was not a fan of watching (i.e.; waiting in) the plane, although being co-pilot again she could get used to. But sitting out here and waiting, with Magento's psychic defenses on the building cutting off her awareness of almost everyone and the com system down, was making her... twitchy. It would have been boring, if she wasn't so tense. The tenseness was probably why she was so quick to pick out the new mind focused on the 'bird. Oh, hello... What's all this then?

Sam frowned as the Blackbird's sensor suite registered some kind of energy disturbance just outside. "What the hell..."

Outside, a dark-haired woman in a garish purple outfit was poking her head out from behind a tree, staring hard on the large black plane. Star knew she was a fair bit smarter than most of the other applicants. Magneto would surely appreciate this, making sure that these interlopers couldn't get away before he got here to deal with them himself. Maybe she'd be his new right-hand woman? That would be only appropriate.

Jean eyed the energy field that had suddenly formed outside the window. Was it actually sparkling...? It didn't feel like tk energy, not really. It didn't seem as... versatile. It also didn't seem as strong. And the mind behind it...? Jean arched an eyebrow. Somehow, she didn't see Erik throwing Mystique aside for a girl who could make a forcefield.

Sam's hand hovered over the VTOL controls, before he drew it back. Not chancing it. "Jean? Any chance..."

"It doesn't feel that strong," Jean said, eyeing the sparkling wall. "I'll be able to break it if we need but... gimme a second. May not need to." Closing her eyes, she reached out to the mind behind the shield. #Excuse me,# she sent, along with the mental equivalent of a cough. #What the hell do you think you're doing?#

Star yelped, falling on her rear at the sudden voice in her mind. "What... where..." Talking. In her head.

That was... unexpected. #Yes.# Her mental tone suggested that Jean was underwhelmed by the girl's cognitive abilities. And this... child was thinking Magneto would be impressed? #Talking, in your head.#

"You... you're on the plane, aren't you?" Star scrambled back to her feet, her jaw set determinedly. "I'm going to make sure you don't take off," she said, more confidently. "That way you're all stuck here and Magneto can dispose of you at his leisure."

#Uh-huh...# Jean paused, examining the shield again. Had she missed something? Surely Magneto wouldn't just leave... incompetent children as his only defenses. But, no, the shield really was all there was, and it wasn't much. #Sweetie, you are so out of your league.#

"Bite me, bitch," Star said loftily, and concentrated, shrinking the shield. Maybe she could damage the plane?

Jean arched an eyebrow. Ok, threatening the 'Bird was taking it too far. Concentrating, she tapped into her tk and simply smashed at the sparkling wall. Brute force Jean was good at.

"OW!" Star wound up on her rear again. "Ow..." she complained again, almost involuntarily, as she clutched at her head. "Bitch... ow..."

There was something almost funny about this. Jean was almost tempted to play with the girl, but it probably wouldn't be a good idea. #Would you like to just leave or am I going to have to make you unconscious?#

"No!" Star surged angrily to her feet. "I'm going to be part of the Brotherhood, I am--"

#Really, really out of your league,# Jean interrupted. #And why the hell do you want to be one of the Brotherhood, anyway?#

"Because mutants are the superior lifeform! And I'm getting in on the ground floor of the new order, you... you head-talking woman!"

#Uh-huh. The word you're looking for is telepath. Which is also a mutation. And you should know, if you insist on refusing to think for yourself and just swallowing Magento's drivel whole we will meet again. And it will not go well. Good night.#

Jean did not have Charles' control, not by a long shot, but suppressing conscious thought, telepathically knocking someone out, didn't take a lot of control. Not if you didn't mind that they'd wake up eventually with a splitting headache.

"Problem solved," she told Sam as the girl passed out.

---

Cain took two steps forward into the melee, swatting aside mooks with glowing eyes and too-many tentacular limbs as he tried to make his way into the building. A small thump from his side caught his attention, as he watched the slim Asian woman in the green leotard cartwheel away from him. She sprang to her feet, brandishing long green-nailed fingers that practically shined in the light. Curious, Cain peered down at her.

"Hi, My Name is Cheshire," he read off the name sticker adhered to her leotard. With a frown, she looked down, tearing the paper away with her nails. It smoked slightly as it fell to the ground, causing Cain to arch an eyebrow. Intepreting his look as fear, Cheshire stepped forward, swinging her hand in a swift chop that Cain instinctively stepped back from.

"Neurotoxins," she said in a smooth voice. "One scratch, and you'll die in spastic convulsions, and I'll enjoy it. Just let me-HEY!"

Cain lifted her off the ground, his hands enveloping her wrists, keeping her at arm's length, despite her nails not penetrating his invulnerable skin. Cain craned his neck to glance around for instruction. "Poison girl! Where to put her?"

"Knock her out!" came the response from at least three teammates. Cain frowned, keeping the squirming assailant off the ground.

"I can't hit a dame like this. I mean, she's a looker-" A well-placed kick to his nose made him blink. "Okay, lady, I'm trying to be nice here and-" Another kick to his chin, followed by a heel thrust to his Adam's apple actually got Cain's attention, despite not hurting him in the slightest. "All RIGHT!" he bellowed, "I'm gonna ask you nice to-"

Both heels, this time, beating a tattoo against his chest and face. Calmly, Cain lowered his arms, bringing Cheshire down to eye level. With a quick scowl, he tilted his head back, snapping it forward, smacking his forehead into hers with a sound like a car crash. Cheshire's eyes rolled back in her head as she went limp, and Cain dropped her on the lawn without another thought.

"Dames."

~~~



Away from the fighting, Forge is finished with his assignment. Now just to test it.



The booms echoed all the way to the lab, rattling test tubes and causing monitors to flicker. Forge darted from table to table, disconnecting cables and flipping switches. One last firmware download. Just fifteen seconds.

Thunder, and the sky turning rapidly grey outside. That was Storm, obviously. Shouts and crashes let him know that the fight was probably growing closer to him. They were coming for him, as he had predicted they would.

The last part was complete. Reaching for his latest creation, Forge let out a long breath between his teeth as he gripped the handle with his left hand, feeling the contact plates adhere to his metal arm. The hum of the energy chamber as it charged sent a vibration all the way up to his shoulder. With his other hand, he slammed on the intercom button, a tinge of panic in his voice.

"Lorna!" he hollered, raising his voice over the din. "It's ready, but I can't get out of the lab! I need help!"

"The boy genius needs help. I'm amazed." Malice snarled as she walked into the room. She didn't appreciate being abandoned while her former teammates battered the house though she had to admit watching the ridiculous creatures Toad had discovered getting swatted about was deeply entertaining. "Didn't you design a way to move the damn thing when you built it?"

Forge raised his arm, the barrel of the Neutralizer protruding past his hand, handle resting in his palm. "Actually, it's reasonably light. Your boss provides damn good materials to work with. It works, too. Turns mutant powers off like a light switch. Haven't tested it yet, though." A slow smile crossed his face. "Hold that pose."

With a snap of his wrist, he leveled the Neutralizer at Lorna and pulled the trigger.

Malice's eyes went wide and she flung her hand out instinctively to stop him, seizing his arm and disrupting if only for a second the delicate mechanism of the Neutralizer. Not quite enough to keep him from firing. Around her neck, the collar flared dangerously, shorting
and Malice screamed.

Forge flinched, the blue-white energy of the beam shooting up Lorna's arm, illuminating her like some strange effigy. In an instant, the energy arced off Lorna, striking the wall before bouncing and striking the Neutralizer itself.

In that moment, Forge imagined this is what it must feel like to have every single cell in your body set on fire simultaneously. The world blurred around him, the crackling energy clouding his vision. He felt the vibration in his arm as the Neutralizer heated up, then shattered with a series of whining metal and cracking ceramic.

Looking up as he felt the blood begin to drip from his nose, he caught Lorna's eyes.

Lorna's. Not Malice's. That much was obvious.

"It worked," he mouthed. "Holy shit."

And the world exploded, and he passed out.

~~~



Toad walks into the labs and finds a mess. Guess who has to tell the boss?



The explosion had sent Toad scurrying towards the door and bouncing over Mystique as she stalked in, not even deigning to acknowledge his existence in the process.

"I'm bored. Why can't we have a little fun at least and-"

The words were cut off as Toad pelted down the hallway, not even looking where he was going as he stuck his tongue out towards the door, careful not to let the tip snap anywhere near the bitch's range of retaliation. After a few moments, he came to a dead stop, hanging upside down in the now shredded doorway of the lab and stared inside through the still lingering smoke, smiling slowly in satisfaction.

Two birds, one stone it looked like. He allowed himself another moment of satisfaction and glee at the sight of the two bodies sprawled on the ground, and then, bouncing merrily off walls, floor and ceiling on his return trip to Magneto's office, Toad headed back to report on the situation.

Magneto was never one to indulge in a fight unless there was something to show for it, and letting him know that both his girl and boy wonders had gone off and exploded each other up meant they'd be leaving, rather than facing off with their uninvited guests.

And even if he got stuffed in a metal ball and used as a ping pong again, Toad figured it was more than worth the discomfort, if it meant getting rid of those responsible for his life being so miserable of late. Or at least easily blamed for all the misery, actual fact not factoring at all in the equation as far as he was concerned.

He'd miss the crème brulee, though. The woman could cook…

~~~



When it all seems too easy, it's usually because it is. Scott and Ororo find their wayward charges and carry them out again.



Follow the sound of the explosion.

It was instinct, more than anything else, that made Scott make that choice. Ororo had joined him by chance, after having apparently disposed of a number of the curiously incompetent mutants herself. There would be time to figure out what precisely that had all been about.

Later. They had hostages to retrieve. And it was good, Scott thought grimly, to be going into this with Ororo at his side. When they didn't know what sort of shape Lorna was going to be in, what her state of mind was, it was very reassuring to have one of the other two people who knew every bit as much about Lorna's powers, strengths and weaknesses as he did.

Part of him was, however, very glad that Alison wasn't here.

"It is far too quiet," Ororo remarked softly, yet another hallway proving to be empty, another room to be without occupants. She walked nearby, a touch behind him to leave Scott with a clear firing field if need be. They'd received some reports already through the pre-arranged system they'd settled upon and thus far, it seemed as though no one were truly encountering any resistance of note.

It was more troubling then anything else.

"Quiet in here, horde of wannabe supervillains with C-level powers outside," Scott said, raising an eyebrow. "Not precisely what we were expecting." He paused, sniffing. "Smoke," he said more tightly. "I smell smoke." Not like there was anything burning currently, just a residual acrid tinge to the air... from the explosion?

He shook his head and picked up the pace. Not to a dangerous speed, but there was part of him that really was not liking the quiet and wanted to find their people and get out of here before the quiet broke. His pessimistic side, maybe. They passed several more empty rooms before they reached the remains of what had been a large, reinforced door. Scott gave a look over his shoulder at Ororo, then stepped around the rubble.

At the sight before them, Ororo paused only for a moment - and then trusting Scott to cover for her, she stepped through the ruined door and kept walking - running to cover the last of the distance, and kneeling on the ground next to the nearest prone figure.

"Alive."

Moving to the side then, one hand on the ground and one leg stretching out for quick shift of weight, she checked the other one, voice tense yet holding an undeniable note of relief as she spoke.

"Alive. Both of them. They seem to have been.... electrocuted, somehow." It was, after all, a condition she knew well for having inflicted upon others. "We need to get them up to the Blackbird. Now."

Scott swallowed, staring down at the two of them for only an instant. "I'll take Lorna," he said, bending to pick her up. "You've got Forge?"

Not what he'd expected to find. Not at all. Lorna was very still, and he shifted her to over his shoulder, needing one hand free for his visor, just in case. "Let's get out of here," he said hoarsely, seeing Ororo lifting Forge.