gene nation | trial by fire and ice

[x-callisto.livejournal.com]

Ororo and Callisto venture back into the tunnels to inevitable confrontation in the hopes of saving both Sarah, and Gene Nation, from themselves.




She always forgot how small the tunnels were.

It wasn't as if they changed in size - no, they were as close and claustrophobic as ever - but somehow Ororo managed to convince herself each time that they were tolerable and that she wouldn't be bothered descending into them. And each time she was wrong.

She couldn't show it, however. There were important things at stake here. Sarah was in danger, and if what Remy had found out was true, so were the rest of the inhabitants of the tunnels. Which meant that it was direly important that personal issues be put aside in favor of haste and stealth. Which also meant that no matter how much she wanted to, Ororo couldn't confront the woman in front of her for more details about her knowledge about this and other, more personal issues. Including how she had tracked Ororo through the city and how much more she knew about her life. Later, however... Assuming there was a later.

Callisto, for her own part, moved very much as though she neither knew nor cared whether Ororo was following her and what, if anything, she was thinking. She navigated the tunnels at a fast walking pace, barely pausing at junctions that all looked completely identical to Ororo, her feet making no sound that the other woman could hear on the hard concrete floors.

Focusing on keeping the air moving around them was a small distraction, one Ororo was grateful for as they left the surface behind and moved further into the darkness. Even as her eyes adjusted she found it difficult to tell where they were going, and not for the first time she questioned the sanity of following the other woman in there alone.

Finally, she had to speak. "How much further?" she asked in a low voice, fingers brushing the side of the wall as they turned yet another corner.

"Not far," came the reply. Callisto seemed disinclined to elaborate any further, however, merely continuing round the next few bends in their small sub-tunnel before before leading them out into a more major corridor. There, she stopped a moment, her steps slowing to a halt, and she simply stood, staring down the tunnel before them in silence.

Ororo nearly breathed a sigh of relief at the larger tunnel they had just entered. When nothing happened, however, she began to frown. "What is it? We must keep moving - there is not much time."

"This is where they got her," the other woman mumbled quietly. "She used to be one of them - one of us... and they beat her down like-" Cutting off mostly because she couldn't think of a good simile, Callisto instead shrugged, only turning an impassive face on her companion, meeting her eyes for the first time since they'd ventured underground, repeating, "This is where they got her."

Trying to read the other woman's expression or tone proved futile; Ororo could only judge from her words that she felt strongly about Sarah and whatever had happened to her. "Then we will get her back," she replied determinedly. "Where did they go from here?"

"It's this way."





They took another side tunnel, and then another, her guide's pace growing all the time. Ororo realised why some distance later as she began to hear what Callisto had before - voices, the shuffling of feet. They were finally close.

As they neared the sound of voices Ororo reached out to take Callisto's elbow and urge caution - despite the need for action, they needed to know what sort of situation that were entering into. Especially, as it seemed, if they would be outnumbered by hostile opponents.

The elbow was jerked almost painfully quickly from her grip and Callisto turned a dark expression on her face, gesturing with her chin towards a dark hole to their right, reaching from just above ground level to their shoulders, perhaps a little over a metre square in width and height. She leant close to whisper in Storm's ear.

"Vent. It connects some of the sub-tunnels together, has vertical shafts leading to the surface. There's also hidden access to the main chamber. They won't see us."

"No." The word was out before Ororo knew she had said it, and she had to fight the rising tide of panic that even the idea of entering the vent inspired. "That... would not be best. We ought to enter from different points," she said. "We will cover more of the chamber that way."

Callisto narrowed her eyes, her brow furrowing momentarily in an expression that might have been irritation, or possibly confusion, or maybe a mix of both. In any event, she did not seem to be invested enough in her plan to care. "Fine," she hissed. "Just make sure you're somewhere you can see the vent in the South wall... you know South from here, right?" she added with a sarcastic curl to her lip.

"I can sense the energy patterns of the Earth and electromagnetic fields," the silver-haired woman replied archly. "I believe I can find South."

"Riiight..." Callisto managed to look thoroughly unimpressed and continued in her low tone, backing towards the vent and resting a hand at its entrance. "Well, you sense your electromagnetic thingies, I'll... just know which way South is... and you don't do anything until I do, okay? Or are you going to insist on knowing best when it comes to my old gang, too?"

"By all means, the lead is yours." Ororo found she was gritting her teeth and forced herself to relax, taking in several deep breaths of the stale air. "Now please, hurry. We do not have much time."

"Oh, don't you even fucking start with me," Callisto hissed, her voice growing in intensity, although not in volume. "I'm not the one who wasted all the time. I could have done this a hell of a lot faster without you here, okay? So don't tell me when to hurry." Without even waiting for a reply, the slim brunette turned and disappeared into the vent, out of Ororo's vision in seconds, disappearing into pitch darkness.

Then why did you come to me? Crouching lower, Ororo crept towards the entrance to the chamber, straining to hear what was being said. As the voices grew louder, her worry increased. There were more than she had expected there. And they didn't sound happy.





The system they were in wasn't far from the main Morlock tunnel junction; a massive never completed reservoir dating back to the 1890s, with high brick vaulted ceilings. This was one of the collector tunnels, large and broad, and now lit by a combination of maintainance lights, torches and electric bulbs juryrigged into the power lines.

The size of the crowd was stunning. Very few Morlocks had survived the original massacre, and their numbers had been less than hundred even then. The crowd around the raised cement floor numbers at least three dozen, in an array of mutations and uniform only in the shabby dress they scrounged. Up on the platform, draped in heavy rusted chains from some ancient mechanism, lay Sarah, bound to the floor. Her face was a mixture of bruises and cuts from a savage beating that her healing factor was trying to catch up with. Beside her, walking around as if she was prey, stood a tall man. He was naked from the waist up, heavily muscled and topped by a dirty blond mohawk. His skin rippled with small arcs of electricity, skirting along the lines of his muscles and dancing over the flat planes of his form.

"Morlock? You call yourself a Morlock?" he said in a taunting voice, obviously for the crowd. "Morlocks lived and died in their home here. Morlocks shed blood to make this underworld their home. And what did you do, Sarah? You ran. You fled. You let the upworld seep into your bones. You let comfort make you weak. You let beauty make you pliable. You let their soft corruption make you one of them. Traitor." The mood of the crowd was ugly, caught up in the rhetoric.

Crouching at the entrance of the vent, staring through the narrow slits in the metal covering, Callisto's heart sank. She'd known, somehow, that this was who was behind it all, but she hadn't wanted to believe it. Berserker. Back in the day he'd been the self-styled leader of the Tunnelers - the gang of mutants that had been just a little bit too militant for her liking, a little too bitter and entitled. They'd been allies in name to the Morlocks but they kept to themselves, mostly, inhabiting these subsystems in their own enclave.

Looking around the crowd though, while most of them were completely new to her, Callisto spotted one or two familiar faces who'd been plain old Morlocks back in her time. A plan began to form. If Gene Nation were so attached to ritual and custom... But that would mean me taking on Berserker. Could I take him? Would I just die trying? She knew she matched him in strength, and she could take a much higher jolt of electricity than any human and a good deal of mutants. But all it would take was one jolt hight enough in voltage to knock her out, and it'd all be over - for both her and Sarah.

Sarah... She fought a wince as she saw the state Sarah was in - not least because for her to still be in that condition with her healing speed she must have been incredibly badly beaten. Callisto knew she'd be fine - probably before she even got out of those chains. But it was still hard to see.

"We don't stand for traitors here," the man announced, which drew jeers of agreement from the crowd as he stalked to the side of the platform. "We know what happens when we let weakness enter our tunnels, join our numbers. So we cut it out." The noise from the mutants grew in intensity and Beserker looked out at them approvingly, small sparks skittering over his shoulders.

"I RAN? Excuse me?" Sarah growled from the floor, glaring harshly through her blood-matted hair. "Where the fuck were any of you after the massacre? I lived down here for years by myself. I took care of their bodies. I've been down twice to take care of upworlders who decided to move in uninvited. Where were you?"

Berserker approached her then, taking her chin roughly in his hand to force her gaze upward. "Traitorous Bitch! How dare you even consider yourself worthy to speak to any of us!" He sent a jolt of electricity through her then, not enough to kill, but enough to add to her already painful injuries. She flinched, and forced herself from his grip to look at the crowd. "And for your information, the Pretty Boy dumped me, because I'm just as fucked up as the rest of you." The sound of his hand hitting her face echoed through the now silent room.

It was then that Ororo, from her spot behind a thick section of piping, saw eight long, lean fingers emerge from the slits in the vent part-way up the South wall. A moment later the whole vent cover was pushed outwards, hitting the ground ten or eleven feet beneath with a clatter that echoed almost painfully loudly through the chamber. Callisto followed, by contrast landing lightly on her feet.

Every head in the crowd turned towards Callisto, and the initial hushed whispers - "Intruder! Outsider!" - grew in volume until the chamber was buzzing angrily. Ororo took advantage of the distraction to creep into the chamber unnoticed, picking her way towards the platform where Sarah lay.

"Wait!" Berserker's voice rang out, cutting through the noise and causing the crowd of mutants to fall silent. He eyed Callisto carefully, recognition slowly dawning. "I know you."

Callisto approached the platform, the crowd parting more out of confusion than anything else, and, reaching it, jumping up onto raised block to square off with the leader, who was easily a head and shoulders taller than her and almost twice as broad. "'Course you know me." A slow, dangerous smile crept across Callisto's face. "Here, let me help jog your memory," she added, lifting a hand and covering her right eye.

Sarah nearly yelped, as full recognition hit her all at once. It couldn't be...It just...Callisto?

A grin grew on Berserker's face, which only served to make him look more mad. "It seems we have another traitor in our midst," he announced to the crowd. "So you survived after all, eh? Would've been smarter for you to play dead," he told the woman in front of him.

Callisto chuckled, a low, quiet sound that nonetheless echoed through the room, which had now fallen almost entirely silent. Even those who didn't remember her - which was, of course, most of them - seemed to realise from the reactions of the older mutants that this new person in their midst had a significant history with the former Morlocks.

"A traitor? Seems to me that it's you who've turned traitor, Berserker. Since when did the Morlocks punish someone simply for where they came from? Since when did the Morlocks exclude and pass judgement on anyone? You can't be a traitor to a cause you were never part of." Callisto turned to face the crowd, gesturing towards the chained form of Sarah. "This is not my cause. And if this's what Gene Nation is, then they're not my people and never were. This shit disgraces the memory of the Morlocks, of what we stood for. You should be ashamed."

"So you'd turn your back on your people so easily," the mohawked man declared. "You can't deny your part in this, Callisto." Several people gasped at the sound of the name - obviously it was known, even if her face wasn't.

Ororo stopped where she was, the name registering with her as well. The Morlock leader? Using the crowd's distraction to her advantage, she crept closer to the stage, waiting for a moment when she could make her way to Sarah and free her from her chains.

"This is your cause," Berserker said now, sweeping a hand to encompass the entire chamber and the mutants within it. "At least it was, before you abandoned it. Abandoned them. How long have you been living on the surface, letting the upworlders corrupt you? How long have you turned your back on us?"

Callisto didn't answer this, only shrugging and shaking her head. "Fine," she said simply. "Then I'm here now. I'll take it back." She squared her shoulders, shrugging off her biker jacket to reveal her lean, toned arms, one covered almost from shoulder to wrist with dark tattooing that was new to Ororo, though not to the former Morlocks. "I formally challenge you for leadership of Gene Nation," Callisto said then, in a louder voice.

This was not part of the plan... Ororo watched as Berzerker laughed, flexing his muscles and causing the electricity to arc higher in the air around him.

"Your challenge is 'formally' denied," he replied, narrowing his eyes at Callisto. "Even if you weren't a traitor, you couldn't take back what you gave up. You lost that long ago."

"Bullshit," Callisto spat, taking a step towards him. "You can't pick and choose which rules you follow and make them up to suit you." That and one-on-one is the only chance we have here against so many...

Berserker lifted his chin, staring down at Callisto imperiously. "And you are in no position to tell us how to live. Traitor." The crowd began to stir restlessly, realizing that something unpleasant was building. They were no strangers to violence, and regardless of the challenge, they could tell the two standing on the stage were about to come to blows.

Which made it all the more startling when someone else entirely spoke next.

"Then I challenge you," Ororo said, stepping forward from where she had been crouched at the side of the stage. She had no idea how wise this plan was, but someone needed to distract the mutants while Sarah was freed. She only hoped Callisto was as quick at locks as she was. And that I can stand a few rounds against this giant.

Callisto's gaze snapped to the other woman. She'd been aware of Ororo making her way across the room towards them, amazed that she'd got this far without detection. But then, the mutations of the likes of the Morlocks hadn't tended to run into 'useful' abilities like enhanced senses.

Her stomach clenched a little at Ororo's words, even though as she said them she realised that this was really their only remaining option - well, that didn't involve taking on a whole room full of mutants. Okay, now, name me as your champion before you get yourself killed, you fuckin' idiot.

Callisto had seen Storm in action - she'd fought her. The woman was a skilled fighter, but she would be no match, physically, for Berserker. Her brows drawing together in spite of herself, Callisto stepped back as Storm jumped up onto the platform, taking the opportunity as the leader's attention turned to edge back towards Sarah.

Berserker sneered at the newcomer. "You? Who the fuck are you?"

"I do not see why it matters. If I win you will know all you need to know about me." Ororo darted a glance at Callisto; why wasn't she doing anything? They didn't have much time.

Callisto caught the look, and comprehension dawned. Hey eyes widened just slightly, and she directed a tiny shake of her head - just the merest movement - at the silver-haired woman, then cast a very quick glance around the room before looking significantly at Ororo again. We don't play by their rules and we're fighting a whole room of them. You'll have to see this through.

Well, that wasn't heartening. Suddenly Ororo felt more foolish than ever following this woman - Callisto - into the tunnels without any backup whatsoever. She didn't have much more time to ponder her folly, however, as Berserker spoke again.

"And when you lose, we'll know all we need to - that upworlders had better stick to their own business, and leave ours alone."

"They are not, though," Ororo replied, watching the man carefully. "You need to leave. You are all in danger here - you must evacuate now."

Berserker gave a short, sharp laugh. "We must, must we? I don't know if you've been paying attention to the news lately, upworlder, but you're the ones who should feel threatened. Gene Nation aren't going to take the ignorance and prejudice of non-mutants lying down. We're fighting back! We're taking what's ours!"

There was a roar from the crowd at this, and Berserker, if such a thing was possible, seemed more imposing still.

Tired of arguing with the man, and more concerned than ever that time was running our, Ororo decided to act. Her eyes misting over, there was a loud rushing sound, and a moment later a small whirlwind had slammed full-force into Berserker, causing him to stumble towards the edge of the platform.

Berserker didn't get up immediately, momentarily shocked by the act, but as he lifted his head and pushed himself up a low chuckle echoed across the chamber.

"That's more like it. Show us what you're made of, upworlder." With that, he lifted his hand, and with a flipping motion a burst of electricity shot from his fingertips and made direct contact with Ororo's chest.

To no effect.

Of course. Lightning... In spite of her determination that she didn't give a shit what happened to Storm, Callisto felt a surge of relief at this. They might just get away with it.

Crouching over Sarah she visually assessed the young woman's injuries. Nothing appeared to be broken - at least, not any more - that was unsurprising of course. Her face was still showing the marks of a severe beating but the swelling from the blow she'd taken moments before was already going down. Not daring to touch the chains that bound Sarah, unwilling to interfere with the ritualistic process they were now part of, Callisto nonetheless reached to brush a few strands of bloodied hair away from the captive's face, meeting Sarah's eyes. 'I'm sorry,' she mouthed.

Sarah was suddenly feeling very small, and unsure. No matter how many times it happened, she could never quite get the hang of her world getting tossed around and everything falling apart in front of her. She shrank back from Callisto's touch, instinctively, unable to even look at the woman. Instead, her eyes were drawn to the confrontation in front of her. This can not be happening.

Meanwhile, Berserker had picked himself up from the ground and was clearly trying not to show his surprise at the lack of any effect his powers had just had. He lifted both hands now, bright blue, crackling sparks shooting towards Ororo.

They didn't seem to affect her in the slightest; indeed, as the entire crowd watched she moved closer, absorbing more and more of the electricity he projected. Her eyes returning to normal, she dropped into a fighting stance, balancing on the balls of her feet as she calculated the fastest way to end the confrontation.

Berserker now looked completely nonplussed, his brow furrowing in confusion, though he had the presence of mind to reach behind himself, pulling a large knife from his belt.

"I'm betting these can still hurt you..." he said, flipping the knife a couple of times as he advanced on her.





It could, of course, but only if he was able to touch her. While Callisto had seen Ororo fight years before, it was clear that in that time she had been extensively trained in the art of hand-to-hand combat. What she lacked in physical strength she made up for in quickness and agility - Beserker was barely able to get near her, and every swipe of the knife she was able to avoid. Training with Logan had equipped her to fighting an opponent with a handful of lethal weapons, and she was at least able to keep from being overwhelmed, though she was no nearer to defeating him as the fight progressed.

This should be me... Callisto looked down at the girl - woman, now - chained at her feet, the woman who wouldn't even hold her gaze. I came out of hiding for this, and I can't even do anything. I could've left an anonymous message for all the good I've done. It didn't even occur to her that without her, no one would ever have been able to find Sarah down in the tunnels, and certainly not in time.

As the two mutants battled, the atmosphere in the chamber began to grow more charged. Beserker's anger at the outsiders fueled his power, and before long every mutant with hair felt a prickle at the back of their neck as the static in the room built.

At first the spectators thought that it was just the atmosphere of the battle that was making the room seem darker and darker, but as time passed the more astute, Callisto among them, realised that it was a far more literal kind of atmosphere, as the air grew damper and damper and clouds began to gather over their heads, electricity crackling around the piping that lined the high ceiling.

Even if they can't hurt each other, someone's going to get a nasty shock before this is over... Callisto thought darkly. That and they'll black-out half the city.

Ororo had noticed by now that the atmosphere in the chamber was growing dangerously charged - enough so that the bystanders were at danger, even if she and Beserker were not. Despite her desire to defeat him, she didn't want to hurt anyone else in the process, and knew that she had to put a damper on his output before it was too late.

Ducking under another wild blow, the silver-haired woman didn't move fast enough to avoid the followup, which caught her square in the stomach and bent her over double. The crowd whooped loudly, foreseeing the beginning of the end of the conflict, but their shouts of joy were halted by the churning clouds overhead, which darkened as if a flip had been switched, and then began to issue forth near-freezing drops of rain. At the same time, the temperature within the chamber dropped, plunging downward until each mutant's breath stood out like a cloud before their faces.

And nowhere was colder or wetter than the area around Berserker himself. It wasn't long before his skin took on a white tinge as his sweat froze in place, gathering more and more frozen liquid as it rained down in buckets.

Now all Ororo had to do was avoid him, as Berserker continued to lunge after her despite the icy rain. His movements seemed to slow, however, and grow more erratic as the rime built on his skin; the sparks of electricity diminished, then disappeared under the ice. Feeling none of the cold herself, the weatherworker waited until an opening arose and then darted in, wresting the knife from his frost-covered skin. Another move and she was behind him, the knife held firmly in one hand.

"This is over," she announced, repeating the words loudly to be heard over the sound of the wind and rain. "You have lost."

Berserker's eyes were wide open. He opened his mouth, but all that emerged as a cloud of condensed breath, no sound.

Seconds passed, everyone frozen in place, whether literally or figuratively, in the moment. Then a low rumble was heard from the crowd as the spectators began to realise just what had taken place.

Then, almost in slow motion, a cracking sound echoed through the chamber as the ice around Berserker's feet gave way and he toppled forwards heavily, dropping like a felled tree to the ground.

Callisto lost no time now that the former leader was incapacitated, grabbing the now-freezing chains that bound Sarah and twisting them with her bare hands, the veins in her arms standing out with the effort. The chains were old and rusted, but more than heavy enough to cause her some trouble. They were giving, but slowly.

Just as quickly Ororo turned to the crowd, spreading her arms to quiet the mutants, who were still looking at the figures on the platform with a mixture of awe and shock. "You must all leave these tunnels; it is no longer safe for you here," she announced. "These are not orders to disband, but for now a safer place must be found. You will follow us out of here - no one may stay behind." Including, of course, Beserker. She hoped that the man would bow to the rules and follow her words now that she had defeated him.

As if reading her mind, a further cracking sound could be heard as Berserker finally came-to enough to pull himself to his feet, ice falling around him as he did so. Tiny sparks ran across his form again, but they were paltry by comparison to his former glory, and he was shivering violently. Under the stony gaze of his people, he turned on his heel, and hobbled rather than ran out of the chamber down a seemingly random tunnel.

"Leave him," Callisto said as someone made a move to go after him, speaking for the first time since before the fight. "Long as he's not here it doesn't matter. Let him be." Though she quite pointedly held no authority over the assembly, the mutant in question seemed satisfied with this, though another, Erg, the tall man with the eye-patch, spoke up in a gruff tone.

"Why? What's not safe?" he challenged Ororo.

"Word of Gene Nation has spread to the authorities - and they are going to act against you," Ororo replied. "Soon. We must be gone from here when they come. I will help you find a safe place to go." She stepped off the platform, approaching the crowd of mutants, some of whom were shivering in the cold. "There will be no more violence over this."





The next hour passed in a confusion, a flurry of activity and tightly controlled near-panic. Not all the mutants seemed willing to leave but they were carried along by the tide, left little choice but to follow their brothers and sisters back into the dark.

Sarah watched the group as she limped sorely along behind the pack. What if they had done this all those years ago? Would there be more survivors? Or just more like Berzerker, insistent on standing their ground and getting themselves killed in the process? This group, although Morlocks, were not her family. At least not the one she remembered. And beside her walked a ghost who had haunted her through the worst part of it, as real as the blood caked on her ruined clothes.

Callisto was almost entirely silent but for the occasional barked 'suggestion', arms wrapped around her skinny, soaking wet form. She stayed close to the now-free Sarah, reluctant to let the young woman out of her sight but somehow unable to actually talk to her, let alone touch her.

All she could think was that it was happening again, these poor bastards, nowhere else to go, driven out of the only place they could call home. And if she hadn't run away the first time, all those years ago, she could've stopped it.