Genosha - The End of the Beginning
May. 28th, 2012 12:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsThe captured mutants are brought before President David Moreau and his brother. The full extent of the mission failure becomes clear.
Trigger warning for explicit violence.
Parts of the prison were still burning as the lockdown procedures stayed in effect. Despite the near perfect execution of their trap, the Genoshans had nearly lost the fight to the assault teams; only surprise and their mutate soldiers turning the tide. One by one, the captured mutants were hauled powerless into the same, massive concrete box where the first kidnappees had appeared days before. Featureless, stark, and ringed by over a hundred armed men. Even one of their own, Betsy Braddock, stood there. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her face read nothing but triumph as the collection of mutants were assembled. Chief Magistrate Anderson was barking orders, getting the last of them pulled into place.
One of the Magistrates walked through, restraining each X-Man in turn, and cutting off the epaulets on their uniforms. They were dropped into a bag and handed to a tall man in a crisp suit. Behind him, bearing a rough resemblance to the tall man, stood Thomas Moreau, a face that the early kidnappees remembered well. Beside him stood Dr. Ryan, her hair askew and black marks on her face, as if she'd been too close to an explosion. The tall man wiped his eyes and paused as Magistrates hauled in the last two captives. With a clang, Remy and Jubilee were tossed to the floor, heavily restrained. With a nod, they were pulled to their feet, and the man began to speak.
"My name is David Moreau." He pulled out a few of the epaulets and bounced them in one hand, contemplating them. "I am the President of Genosha. The nation you have just invaded."
"Casualty numbers are still coming in, David. Couple of hundred at least." Thomas said, and shot a look to Anderson. The woman seemed unperturbed by his hard gaze.
"Likely more, although we think most are injured, not killed in action."
"So, dozens of your men are dead?"
"At least. Might be as high as a hundred, one-fifty if we're unlucky."
"A hundred and fifty. And this was a well-planned, heavily reinforced ambush." He turned and caught Ryan's eyes. "Now, Doctor Ryan, you see why I required such extraordinary measures in the first place." She swallowed hard and nodded, obviously shaken.
"Sir, you shouldn't be here." Anderson said, and he shook his head.
"I appreciate your professional concern, Chief, but I think I need to be here, at least for another moment." He finally raised his voice, making sure the battered mutants could hear him. "I have ordered Chief Magistrate Anderson to officially place you under arrest for your attack on Genoshan citizens and sovereignty. You will be held indefinitely while we consult with other nations regarding Brotherhood terrorist actions. Assuming you are not extradited, you will face trial for terrorism in Genoshan courts, which is punishable by execution. If you agree to turn over evidence on your fellow terrorists, the courts may show mercy."
A few attempts to speak were quickly silenced with blows, and President Moreau finally turned. "Thomas, I want you to coordinate the processing of these terrorists with Chief Anderson. Dr. Ryan, if you'd accompany me? I'd like to speak to the Commission first, and then start to contact the families of the dead. Call the GBC and get a crew in to put together a statement. We need to let people know what has happened before the rumours get too far ahead of us."
His staff coalesced around him, and he left. Thomas Moreau waited a moment until the doors closed on the President and Ryan before speaking.
"Get these scum up. On their feet."
Scott staggered to his feet as the magistrates stalked towards the assembled captives. He was still reeling from the brutal fight and capture at the hands of the mutates. He resisted the urge to glare defiantly at Moreau and instead glanced along the rows of prisoners checking on his teammates and surreptitiously examining the guards and security arrayed around them. He sighed and his gaze flicked to Moreau, he didn’t see any way out of the prison at the moment. He had gotten his friends trapped at the mercy of the man on the podium.
Still fighting a blinding headache and seeing double, Vance did his best not to collapse as he was hauled around and dumped with the rest of the captured teammates. He hauled himself to his own knees as the Moreaus talked, stopping once or twice to prevent the world from spinning out of control. Out of his good eye, not swollen shut from being clocked unexpectedly, he looked over and tried to see who else was here with him.
Unable to assess the full scope of captured teammates, Vance nonetheless paused at the flash of red hair, his shoulders tightening. And as the guards moved to help them all up, Vance finally pushed himself gingerly to his feet under his own power, his one clear eye focused on the voice addressing them as he held his gaze steady and locked on Thomas Moreau.
Tabitha had trouble keeping her feet. Not just exhaustion, her bum knee screamed in protest of the manhandling involved in her capture. It took all of her concentration to keep her feet.
“An invasion. I am always amazed at the arrogance of mutant terrorists. Do you honestly think just because you and Magneto could hijack an orbital platform from a bunch of Kazakhstani conscripts who are too busy getting drunk and raping the new draftees that you can take on a whole nation?” Moreau said, walking amongst them. “You’re animals. All of you.”
With blood caked on the side of her face from a gash on her forehead and her eyes slightly glassy, swaying in place as if she could barely stay upright, Amanda was the very image of someone too concussed to know where they were. As she looked blearily around, however, she was taking in faces. Gathering them all together, including the earlier abductees who had been brought from their cells, had one benefit to the group - it meant they knew who had escaped and were still at large.
“Not Brotherhood, you pillock,” she slurred at Moreau. “Fucking shite for brains colonial cunts.”
As expected, one of the Magistrates obliged Moreau’s nod with a rifle butt to the small of the witch’s back, above her kidney, and she went down to her knees with a cry.
“Stop it!” Kurt burst out almost involuntarily, with an automatic move to shield his sister - although he only got that far because he was already next to her. He was bruised and bleeding much like the rest of them, though the bruises showed far less on his dark blue skin. “Look at her, she can hardly stand. And she spoke the truth, we are not Brotherhood.”
“Oh, you just happen to be terrorists operating out of one of Magneto’s former bases? And known Brotherhood operatives like John Allerdyce just happened to be part of your attack on the Citadel?” Moreau went nose to nose with the slighter man. “And you just happen to be what happens when that shapechanging bitch fucks a mutt?”
“That shapechanging bitch is nothing to me”, Kurt retorted, not backing down an inch. “If she and Magneto and the rest of their core group had been your prisoners in the place of innocent children, I would not have come. We are no terrorists.”
Amanda had recovered enough to realise what Kurt was doing, and managed to tug on his leg. “Don’t,” she murmured. “Be the smart one. Not like me.”
He looked down at her and his face softened as he reached to help her up and hold her, ignoring Moreau now. “All right, jel’enedra”, he said just as softly even as a guard pulled her away.
Marie-Ange had said little, answering questions from the guards or her companions in single words and short phrases, and unlike some of the rest, seemed unharmed and cowed. No bruises, no cuts, just a slender young woman in nice clothes, trying to keep her head down and her pretty face unharmed. But she twitched her hair away from her face with an irritated little shake of her head to give Kurt a sharp look as Moreau's attention turned away from him before letting it fall back.
Terry folded her arms around her, one hand lifted to rub absentmindedly at her throat where the purpling impression of fingers showed lividly against her skin. She had been one of the ones who had attempted to protest earlier, invoking legal precedents and statutes. It didn’t take more than a threatened blow to put her abused and rasping voice to rest for the moment though. She flicked a narrow-eyed look around at the others through a section of hair escaping from her ponytail and tried to capture other sounds from the areas beyond their room.
“Commander Anderson, I know you’re supposed to be coordinating with me regarding these prisoners. I’d like to make use of them at Prenova.”
“President Moreau wanted them held and questioned.” Anderson said warily.
“Yes, I know what my brother said. But this many mutants, even with Mister Mudd’s suppression ability is going to severely tax our prison. I’d say we split them in half. We can always swap them out once we’ve gleaned anything useful from them.”
Anderson’s look flickered to concern for just a moment, before her face switched to a professional mask. “Yes Minister. I’ll prep a transfer order.” She said, and walked out. Moreau watched her go for a minute and then turned back, smiling at them.
“Ah. Finally alone.”
Trigger warning for explicit violence.
Parts of the prison were still burning as the lockdown procedures stayed in effect. Despite the near perfect execution of their trap, the Genoshans had nearly lost the fight to the assault teams; only surprise and their mutate soldiers turning the tide. One by one, the captured mutants were hauled powerless into the same, massive concrete box where the first kidnappees had appeared days before. Featureless, stark, and ringed by over a hundred armed men. Even one of their own, Betsy Braddock, stood there. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her face read nothing but triumph as the collection of mutants were assembled. Chief Magistrate Anderson was barking orders, getting the last of them pulled into place.
One of the Magistrates walked through, restraining each X-Man in turn, and cutting off the epaulets on their uniforms. They were dropped into a bag and handed to a tall man in a crisp suit. Behind him, bearing a rough resemblance to the tall man, stood Thomas Moreau, a face that the early kidnappees remembered well. Beside him stood Dr. Ryan, her hair askew and black marks on her face, as if she'd been too close to an explosion. The tall man wiped his eyes and paused as Magistrates hauled in the last two captives. With a clang, Remy and Jubilee were tossed to the floor, heavily restrained. With a nod, they were pulled to their feet, and the man began to speak.
"My name is David Moreau." He pulled out a few of the epaulets and bounced them in one hand, contemplating them. "I am the President of Genosha. The nation you have just invaded."
"Casualty numbers are still coming in, David. Couple of hundred at least." Thomas said, and shot a look to Anderson. The woman seemed unperturbed by his hard gaze.
"Likely more, although we think most are injured, not killed in action."
"So, dozens of your men are dead?"
"At least. Might be as high as a hundred, one-fifty if we're unlucky."
"A hundred and fifty. And this was a well-planned, heavily reinforced ambush." He turned and caught Ryan's eyes. "Now, Doctor Ryan, you see why I required such extraordinary measures in the first place." She swallowed hard and nodded, obviously shaken.
"Sir, you shouldn't be here." Anderson said, and he shook his head.
"I appreciate your professional concern, Chief, but I think I need to be here, at least for another moment." He finally raised his voice, making sure the battered mutants could hear him. "I have ordered Chief Magistrate Anderson to officially place you under arrest for your attack on Genoshan citizens and sovereignty. You will be held indefinitely while we consult with other nations regarding Brotherhood terrorist actions. Assuming you are not extradited, you will face trial for terrorism in Genoshan courts, which is punishable by execution. If you agree to turn over evidence on your fellow terrorists, the courts may show mercy."
A few attempts to speak were quickly silenced with blows, and President Moreau finally turned. "Thomas, I want you to coordinate the processing of these terrorists with Chief Anderson. Dr. Ryan, if you'd accompany me? I'd like to speak to the Commission first, and then start to contact the families of the dead. Call the GBC and get a crew in to put together a statement. We need to let people know what has happened before the rumours get too far ahead of us."
His staff coalesced around him, and he left. Thomas Moreau waited a moment until the doors closed on the President and Ryan before speaking.
"Get these scum up. On their feet."
Scott staggered to his feet as the magistrates stalked towards the assembled captives. He was still reeling from the brutal fight and capture at the hands of the mutates. He resisted the urge to glare defiantly at Moreau and instead glanced along the rows of prisoners checking on his teammates and surreptitiously examining the guards and security arrayed around them. He sighed and his gaze flicked to Moreau, he didn’t see any way out of the prison at the moment. He had gotten his friends trapped at the mercy of the man on the podium.
Still fighting a blinding headache and seeing double, Vance did his best not to collapse as he was hauled around and dumped with the rest of the captured teammates. He hauled himself to his own knees as the Moreaus talked, stopping once or twice to prevent the world from spinning out of control. Out of his good eye, not swollen shut from being clocked unexpectedly, he looked over and tried to see who else was here with him.
Unable to assess the full scope of captured teammates, Vance nonetheless paused at the flash of red hair, his shoulders tightening. And as the guards moved to help them all up, Vance finally pushed himself gingerly to his feet under his own power, his one clear eye focused on the voice addressing them as he held his gaze steady and locked on Thomas Moreau.
Tabitha had trouble keeping her feet. Not just exhaustion, her bum knee screamed in protest of the manhandling involved in her capture. It took all of her concentration to keep her feet.
“An invasion. I am always amazed at the arrogance of mutant terrorists. Do you honestly think just because you and Magneto could hijack an orbital platform from a bunch of Kazakhstani conscripts who are too busy getting drunk and raping the new draftees that you can take on a whole nation?” Moreau said, walking amongst them. “You’re animals. All of you.”
With blood caked on the side of her face from a gash on her forehead and her eyes slightly glassy, swaying in place as if she could barely stay upright, Amanda was the very image of someone too concussed to know where they were. As she looked blearily around, however, she was taking in faces. Gathering them all together, including the earlier abductees who had been brought from their cells, had one benefit to the group - it meant they knew who had escaped and were still at large.
“Not Brotherhood, you pillock,” she slurred at Moreau. “Fucking shite for brains colonial cunts.”
As expected, one of the Magistrates obliged Moreau’s nod with a rifle butt to the small of the witch’s back, above her kidney, and she went down to her knees with a cry.
“Stop it!” Kurt burst out almost involuntarily, with an automatic move to shield his sister - although he only got that far because he was already next to her. He was bruised and bleeding much like the rest of them, though the bruises showed far less on his dark blue skin. “Look at her, she can hardly stand. And she spoke the truth, we are not Brotherhood.”
“Oh, you just happen to be terrorists operating out of one of Magneto’s former bases? And known Brotherhood operatives like John Allerdyce just happened to be part of your attack on the Citadel?” Moreau went nose to nose with the slighter man. “And you just happen to be what happens when that shapechanging bitch fucks a mutt?”
“That shapechanging bitch is nothing to me”, Kurt retorted, not backing down an inch. “If she and Magneto and the rest of their core group had been your prisoners in the place of innocent children, I would not have come. We are no terrorists.”
Amanda had recovered enough to realise what Kurt was doing, and managed to tug on his leg. “Don’t,” she murmured. “Be the smart one. Not like me.”
He looked down at her and his face softened as he reached to help her up and hold her, ignoring Moreau now. “All right, jel’enedra”, he said just as softly even as a guard pulled her away.
Marie-Ange had said little, answering questions from the guards or her companions in single words and short phrases, and unlike some of the rest, seemed unharmed and cowed. No bruises, no cuts, just a slender young woman in nice clothes, trying to keep her head down and her pretty face unharmed. But she twitched her hair away from her face with an irritated little shake of her head to give Kurt a sharp look as Moreau's attention turned away from him before letting it fall back.
Terry folded her arms around her, one hand lifted to rub absentmindedly at her throat where the purpling impression of fingers showed lividly against her skin. She had been one of the ones who had attempted to protest earlier, invoking legal precedents and statutes. It didn’t take more than a threatened blow to put her abused and rasping voice to rest for the moment though. She flicked a narrow-eyed look around at the others through a section of hair escaping from her ponytail and tried to capture other sounds from the areas beyond their room.
“Commander Anderson, I know you’re supposed to be coordinating with me regarding these prisoners. I’d like to make use of them at Prenova.”
“President Moreau wanted them held and questioned.” Anderson said warily.
“Yes, I know what my brother said. But this many mutants, even with Mister Mudd’s suppression ability is going to severely tax our prison. I’d say we split them in half. We can always swap them out once we’ve gleaned anything useful from them.”
Anderson’s look flickered to concern for just a moment, before her face switched to a professional mask. “Yes Minister. I’ll prep a transfer order.” She said, and walked out. Moreau watched her go for a minute and then turned back, smiling at them.
“Ah. Finally alone.”
