2013.07.27 - X-Men: Reprisal

XMN: REPRISAL, PART I

Scott Summers sits in front of the television with elbows on knees, back hunched forward, and face unmoving.

"Now for a recap on today's top stories," the anchor repeats. "The nation of Pashtun is in carnage this evening over a mutant protest that has turned violent. Approximately 30,000 citizens descended upon Mahdi Square in the capital city of Khilj to protest the removal of educational rights to mutant children. An explosion rocked the square earlier in the day and the entire city has devolved into chaos. The Pushtan army has been called in, and many of the protestors who are also mutants, have taken to the streets in guerilla warfare."

Shocking images of death and fire show a Middle Eastern city torn apart by violence.

Scott sits back in his chair, grits his teeth, and reaches inside a pocket to produce a communication device for the X-men, calling any and all willing and able participants to meet him at the Hangar. And to suit up.

With everything that's been going on, lately? Something like this was bound to happen. It takes mere moments for Jean to duck into a change room from the lab, suiting up and heading for the hanger. She steps onto the Blackbird and starts prepping it for immediate take-off, as the rest of the day's team assembles.

Meeting Scott at the Hangar, Doug Ramsey, codename Cypher, was waiting, nodding at him and the others. Armed with a field kit and a powerful tablet, the young mutant hustles onto the Blackbird, doing a quick review of -just- what announcements the X-Men would make on scene, given that he was the linguist.

DANGER ROOM ACCESS PROTOCOL: BIOSCAN ENGAGED - IDENTITY: JEAN GREY -ERROR- BIOSCAN MISMATCH -ERROR- -ERROR- -ERROR-

Rachel Summers looks at the flashing message on the display panel next to the door to the Danger Room with annoyance. She might only have been in residence for a week or so, but it hadn't occurred to her to speak to Kitty, Doug, or anyone else about making sure she was fully set up with the X-Mansion's systems. So much for a bit of sneaky solo training before her first proper lesson with Jean, Rachel thinks sourly. Turning on her heel and leaving the error message to flash its warning to an empty corridor, Rachel heads for the locker room, intending to change back /out/ of the blue and gold training uniform that clashes quite spectacularly with her hair. Glancing in a mirror she grimaces. She needs an outfit that's more -her-, that's for sure.

She's only gotten as far as removing one glove when the comlink call comes in. Scott's voice makes her stand up straighter on instinct, and she shakes her head with a rueful smirk when she catches herself. But she's already pulling that gold glove back on as she jogs into the hangar.

Cyclops sits in the cockpit of the Blackbird when his wrist chirps with an alert. It seems someone is trying to get into the Danger Room diagnostics and causing errors with the system. Cyclops' mouth twists as he flips a chan on the control panel between him and the other seat. It's Rachel. Guess that makes sense. He makes a mental note to look into clearing up those sorts of mishaps in the future.

Once X-men get seated, they'll find a teledevice in front of them with general information about what's going on and what their mission will be. According to the mission notes, there is a widespread riot between mutants, mutant sympathizers, and the Pushtani military. The X-men's goal will not be to interfere in the warfare, but to ensure there are no attacks on civilians.

Within moments, the Blackbird is up in the air and headed towards the Middle East at top speeds.

Jean slides into the co-pilot seat when Scott arrives to take the controls.

Swivels somewhat to take a look at the mission overview and the accompanying imagery. A grimace pulls at her lips.

As Cypher and Rachel arrives, as well, she gives them a light nod of greeting, and glances to Scott. "So," she says as basketball court opens and the jet rises vertically into the air. "How do you want to play this, Cyke?"

She shifts back around, keeping an eye on the boards and secondary information while he flies.

Casting a quick look towards Scott and Jean, Doug looks towards Rachel, if a bit curiously about how -she- was handling this, getting a read off her body language before keeping his attention on the mission overview. Browsing through the mission specifications, the young man considers, before setting about remote-connecting to the mainframe at Xavier's, and then starting to see what he could do about hacking into the town's traffic network, and whatever surveillance system they may have.

Rachel clatters up the Blackbird's boarding stairs and pauses for only a moment at the entrance to the cabin, seeing Scott and Jean already in place and preparing the jet for flight. A small smile plays across her lips as she nods back at Jean, before she quickly puts on businesslike expression and finds a place in the first row of passenger seats. Strapping in quickly, she scans the mission briefing for highlights whilst being pushed back in her seat by the jet's acceleration, then reads over the material again more carefully. There's no sign of a smile on her face now.

"Very carefully," Cyclops says dryly to Jean before pressing the afterburners. The Blackbird lurches and accelerates faster and faster, hurtling towards the skyline. Once the craft is at top speed, Scott places it on Auto-pilot and turns to face everyone.

"We've got a real snakepit over there. To attempt to completely pacify the situation will be impossible. Our main concern is for the civilians-those caught in the crossfire. According to the information we have, the protests were peaceful up until an explosion in the Mahdi square. No information is available as to how the explosion happened. We're going to be going into this in a very read-react sort of way."

Scott looks over to Jean, then back to the others, "My recommendation is to get as much rest as possible. We're going to need it."

Unfortunately for Doug, the nation they're headed to is known for the lack of technology incorporated into everyday life. While some folks utilize machines, computers are hard to come by, even in the city. Most of the nation itself has a lack of electricity.

Jean purses her lips at Cyclops' overview of the situation. She glances to Rachel. "Have you ever tried to gestalt?" she asks the younger telepath. Because, seriously: Two Phoenix-level telepaths, working in tandem, could probably put a plug in this crisis pretty darn quickly. Actually, it occurs to the elder Phoenix that the pair of them could probably do a whole helluva lot, gestalted, without either of them ever touching the Phoenix force. This doesn't have to get messy.

Wonderful. It looked like Doug would have to be relying on, well... speaking words of peace. Which didn't look like a likely proposition, but the young mutant would likely have to resort to SHIELD training for this, rather than looking for a less messy method, unless the military relied on communications.

Hmmmm...

Actually, what -were- the satellite frequencies for the military's communication tech...? And Doug started checking on that immediately.

Rachel looks up from her reading when Scott speaks, and as soon as he turns around he has her complete attention. Sitting up straight in her chair - at least as far as possible given that she's strapped in - her feet tucked under it and crossed at the ankle, she seems more attentive and alert than she is with pretty much anybody else. She nods her understanding when Scott finishes his summary, and is already reaching a hand up to loosen her seat-restraints when she catches Jean looking at her.

At the question, a look of surprise, quickly hidden, flits across her face. There's the briefest of hesitations before she replies. "Yes." She says with a sharp nod, before honesty makes her add, "It's been a while." One side of her mouth pulls in a bit of a smile. "But I can do it."

Scott seems to look between Jean and Rachel before falling quiet for a moment. "Those sorts of actions will have to be made in the field and at the time, ladies. Be careful, lest we bite off more than we can chew." They are only four, Cyclops reasons to himself. He turns back in his chair and looks out over the sky.

Meanwhile, Doug is able to make his way into the communication systems from the military. As far as he can tell, the military is trying to create a perimeter and defend against the attacks, while simultaneously searching for the 'mutant in question' who detonated the explosion.

Sure, there's a danger in the gestalt, partly because they've never worked with each other before -- in this reality, at least. There's also the possibility that, together, they might unleash some form of the Phoenix Entity again... at least for a little while. So, it's not something to be approached lightly. But it is an option.

Jean glances to Scott and nods, acknowledging his words. Nevertheless, she says to Rachel, "Let's keep the option open. If there's a way to resolve this without further bloodshed, I'd sooner that than the alternative."

"Scott? Apparently the military is reacting because a mutant caused an explosion, and they're hunting for the mutant, which is what's causing the riots," Doug reports, as he checks further into the system. Were the military creating a tense situation by profiling mutants?

The military's blocking off areas and defense seemed in line with normal, appropriate response to the explosion, so it was a matter of... "Are we going in this with guns ablaze, or are we going to blend in and investigate, Scott?"

Logan sits at the very back row of seats, in the starboard corner, sullenly chewing on a cigar as much as smoking the thing. It's probably a safe bet that he's listening to the mission parameters and weighing things, himself, but Wolverine makes even less of a cursory attempt to look like he's paying attention than normal.

The feral Canuck's only immediate contribution to the discussion is the periodic fidget that sees repeated extrusion and retraction of one set of claws, and periodically lifting his glower to scan teammates that have the misfortune to drift into his peripheral vision.

Rachel looks quickly back at Scott when he pours cold water on Jean's idea, and he gets a quickly, choppy nod and an, "Understood."

Right after that, though, Rachel's eyes slide sideways toward Jean again, and there's a bit of a gleam in them. "Sounds good." She confirms, clearly having warmed to the idea. "I'll be ready." She taps her temple for emphasis. That smile's tugging at her lips as she looks at Jean. We can do this. That's what her expression says.

Doug's interjection gets her attention, and she goes to say something, hesitates, then says it anyway. "Do they have anything on the mutant? Anything I... we could track?"

Gambit's sole concession to the gravity of the operation is that he's wearing a black undersuit beneath his armor and jacket. He's still wearing the Inverness, the collar turned up high against the chill in the cockpit. He's sitting in the back too, well away from the people in the front who are doing mechanical things and stuff to an airframe that probably costs a hundred times more than all the vehicles he'd every operated. "Merde, est froid," Gambit mutters in French. He keeps his hands jammed deep into the pockets, an unlit cigarette bobbing around his lips. "De heatahs not workin' or sometin'?" he asks of no one in particular.

Spotting Logan doing his chimney impression, Gambit puts a fingertip against the tip of the cigarette, and a moment later theres a soft *fuff* and the tip glows cherry red. The Cajun immediately relaxes by a few degrees, inhaling the cigarette fumes deep to get his lungs nice and warm. "'least one of you got de right idea," he says, tilting his chin at Logan's stogie. He flicks his fingers to warm them up, producing a deck of cards in one hand and bridging them mid-air to the other. "Remy deal you hand of Tejas hold'em?" Gambit offers Logan, turning the cards into a rainbow fan. "I promise I no even cheat. dis time," he says with a grin that even Logan might find a bit irresistable.

Scott nods to Jean in agreement, and he seems ready to let the topic lie at least until they get there and get a look at the situation.

He looks over his shoulder back at Doug as the reports come in, "On the news here in America they said it was the government who caused the explosion. They made it seem that was the entire reason things went south. Keep digging."

As Rachel asks Doug her question, the information given is sketchy. Different mutants of different sizes and different abilities are all being touted as the trigger man or woman. The only consensus is there is no consensus.

Within a few hours they've finally reached their destination. Scott lowers the engine speed and as they appear over the city, they, well, they disappear as the ship invokes its Stealth abilities.

Looking downward, it's clear that things have gone horribly horribly wrong. In some sections of the city there are widespread civilian deaths, while others see burned out tanks and dead bodies of soldiers strewn about the streets. In one neighborhood, it appears that young mutants are actually dragging the corpses of soldiers through the roads.

Scott brings the Blackbird over the heaviest of the fighting. It's along the banks of a river that runs through the center of the city and it's a flat out firefight. The ramp comes loose and immediately the cabin becomes a whirlwind, blowing hair everywhere and making it hard to hear. Cyclops turns to look at Jean and, telepathically, remarks, "Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea."

The X-men leader drops out of the plane down towards the carnage.

Jean gives Scott a tight smile at his concession. She knows her powers, after all. Better, now, than she ever did back when they were training as kids. She opens the telepathic link to the full team -- though brushing up against Gambit's mind, given the nature of his natural interference, requires a bit of a push (and, perhaps, a promise not to pry).

If she and Rachel do end up gestalting, however, they'll need to rely on their coms, instead. Doubtlessly, neither of them will be willing to risk their teammates' minds in that volatile mix.

As the ramp opens, however, she releases her restraints and starts moving, behind the others, toward the aft. Her mind reaches out, trying to get a sense of the city and the most immediate threats they're going to face to relay that information to her compatriots.

Nodding, Doug spends the next few hours trying to sort out the information. All kind of clashing information, and yet -everything- seemed to point to a mutant inflagrating the whole thing. Nothing to track, although, working backwards, he -might- be able to time-stamp the first reported incident and various reports to try and extrapolate a 'path' of the first mutant. It all depended on well, instigated incidents and commonalities.

Trailing along, Doug half-walks, half-pokes at the tablet, so he might be a bit slow to response. At least he was sticking closer to Logan, who -wasn't- likely to be so distracted...

"Get me to the site, I'll tell you what caused the explosion." Logan interjects, leaning around Gambit to ignore him completely and address that topic, first. This is punctuated by priority #2, a long drag from his cigar, and only then do already-angry eyes shift to LeBeau. "Trust me Cajun." There's a beat interjected in the gruff dismissal. "You don't want me cuttin' your cards just now." It's a step more polite than just growling at the master thief and exploder, at least.

By the time they're over the thick of it, Wolverine's actually managing a larger frown. Riots are a true pain for him-- seldom is it a product of the kind of villainy he likes to punish, so much as tons of frightened idiots channeling it all into hate and anger. "We gotta work out some way to stall this fight, or seperate the factions, or there isn't going t'be shit left to investigate, much less save."

It gets all but lost in the rush of air, but the lose-lose nature of the conflict is somewhat rhetorical: Everyone in the plane should know the stakes by now. Despite being a veteran paratrooper, or perhaps as a product thereof, Wolverine /hates/ flying, though his cursing is lost completely to the gale as he pulls his mask tight over his features, replacing blue eyes with crimson lenses, and releases his handhold, tumbling clear of the jetcraft into freefall.

"Lady," Gambit calls out from the back of the crowd exiting the Blackhawk, aiming his remarks towards Jean. "Don' know if you be tryin' to do some of dat fancy psychic ting, but ah got a funny ticklin' feelin' you tryin' to tell me somethin'. You need to say sometin' to ol' Remy, use your words, oui?" Remy shakes his head, adjusting his parachute straps, and then leaps out of the back of the Blackhawk. He may flirt with Jean out of reflex, but apparently he's not comfortable descending under anything but his own power. Gambit's had an occassion or two to parachute before, so he lands like he does everything else- effortlessly- and cuts the straps away with a flickering knife that appears and vanishes like magic. He falls into step a few paces away from the rest of the group, immediately lighting another cigarette up and promptly puffing away on it. His expression is glacially cool, black eyes unreadable. He stands with that loose-bodied posture that promises an immediate explosion into violence if called for, and walks along with an undignified trot that belies the gravity of the situation.

Rachel's not at all disappointed to learn that there's not nearly enough information to identify the alleged instigator - in fact she relaxes in her seat and looks a bit relieved when Doug delivers the news. It might be bad for the mission, but she's never particularly keen on playing telepathic bloodhound, no matter how good at it she might be.

As the Blackbird banks over the city, Rachel leans across to her her first real look at the situation they're about to involve themselves in. It's far from pretty, and her expression is closed, the look in her eyes stony, as her attention turns back inside the Blackbird and she prepares to disembark.

Hitting the quick-release, she's up and on her feet just behind Jean. Her eyes flicker toward Doug, perhaps thinking of watching his back, but the linguist seems to have picked Wolverine for that role. With a mental shrug, she steps to the edge of the ramp. Despite the situation, a bit of a thrill runs through her, to be doing this with the X-Men, a chance she never got 'back home'.

Stepping into thin air, her powers ignite, and she falls gently behind the others, making sure everyone hits the LZ - and does it in one piece.

Now that the X-men are on the ground for the most part, they're very quickly in the middle of an intense battle. Cyclops can be heard over the radio barking some commands. "Phoenix. Marvel Girl. Try and run as much mental interference as you can. If you can start building bubbles or walls, all the better. Gambit, you can take any stragglers that might get through. Wolverine, if you can track down whoever actually set off the explosion, that'd be helpful. Cypher; any intel you can get and pass on will be helpful.

Cyclops widens the his blast by opening the throttle located at his temple and begins to dig large trenches as a way to split up the sides of the skirmish. Though the fighting is sort of hard to decipher at the moment, it seems as though Cyclops is quartering off sections to keep them isolated.

When Jean exits the Blackbird, she doesn't so much drop down to ground as she does coast aloft over the battlefield, the golden flame aura that surrounds her not yet in the shape of a cosmic raptor. She'll have to let Gambit fend for himself, for now. It's only in gestalt that she'd break through his natural defenses easily, and that's not a priority. Better to rely on coms,

Over com, however, she says, "I can link you into the team telepathically, Gambit. But only if you let me."

She scans the ground, noting where the fighting is heaviest. It's in that direction that she soars, surrounded by a telekinetic field. Her focus narrows in as she telepathically seeks to calm the aggression and telekinetically attempts the separate the combatants.

Least digging large chasms down the city districts will cut off more angry masses from joining the fray, right? Cutting free of his 'chute, Wolverine's already searching out a quick route down the alleyway between a burned out husk of a building and one that looks to be half falling down of its own accord, but it's a near direct line over to the block where all this shit hit the proverbial fan-- all he really needs to do is follow the devastation back towards the blast, but being able to smell the intricacies of the smouldering destruction is helpful, too.

Wolverine's first goal: identify the actual explosive's residue over the myriad of ash, dust, and fire still filling the air with conflicting scents, gradually forming a clearer picture of the explosion itself in a way made possible by a nose that's practically a time traveller. Logan makes his push towards ground zero, taking up point and disabling -both- sides where he confronts combatants. Two men trying to beat a young woman with metal pipes are relieved of their misused plumbing instruments and abruptly disabled, falling to a heap of unconsciousness with barely enough time to lament the breaking of one (1) arm and leg between them.

It's hard to track the precise maneuvers the surprisingly masterful tank of a mutant adroitly executes, but decidedly easy to see the next, simpler stroke as a meaty fist cracks squarely into the rising mutant's face as she summons orange flame in a bid to incinerate her disabled attackers; then joins them in a heap, as Wolverine pushes onward to the answers they seek. |"Let you know when I have the scent."|

It wasn't the -best- thing to be going directly into combat, not for someone whose powers tended to rely on body language. But Doug Ramsey had, at the least, a decent idea of how to read -crowds- now, after a little bit of illumination in glancing through Asimov's Foundation. Crowds followed a baser coarse of -groupspeak-, and so if he'd just 'read the mood' he could avoid things. Although following Logan, the young mutant is more apt to consist of cleaning up (re: "I apologize for my friend, I have called for emergency assistance, they will be by shortly) while continuing to have the mainframe work out the patterns so that he can feed Logan the information in between 'skirmishes' to keep him appraised.

As the others divest themselves of their parachutes and begin moving purposefully through the streets and alleyways, Rachel remains high, trying to get a feel for where she can best be employed.

Of course, this makes her a /wonderful/ target. A battered jeep with a heavy machine gun roars out from a side street, and one of the men in the back happens to look up. A moment later, a stream of bullets are heading Rachel's way. It's nothing that a swiftly-raised telekinetic shield can't handle, but it's a timely reminder that no-one here is playing around. Rachel reaches out a hand and telekinetically rips the machine gun from its mounting, then squints at the jeep. The next bit requires a bit more fine control - but the jeep's accelerator is suddenly nailed to the floor, and the vehicle goes careering into the river. As the occupants swim for it, Rachel considers them out of the fight for the time being.

Out of immediate danger, she drops a little lower and starts messing with perceptions - a group of mutants gaining on a limping soldier suddenly seem to believe he's darter down a side alley, and dash furiously in pursuit. Rachel smiles grimly and looks for more victims.

Gambit dives into the fight with a will, using a combination of thunderous noise and misdirection to cut a swathe in the direction the X-men want to go. Kinetically charged playing cards blast gouges in the soil, send attackers flying, and overall create a dazzling, overwhelming assault on the senses. No one without a weapon in their hand is more than stunned- but, conversely, Gambit puts down armed attackers with instand prejudice. His playing cards fly with unerring accuracy, every time, covering the flanks of the X-men as the team makes their advance across the field of battle.

"Wish I could let you, mon cher," Gambit informs Jean over the heated din. "If I knew what I was doin', ah'd quit. Ah jes' have to settle wit hearin' de soun' of your lovely voice," he says, flashing a wink at Jean across the pitched battlefield. Yes, in the middle of the fight, he found a chance to flirt. Incorrigible, even as he breaks up a pitched brawl with a few expertly thrown metal ball bearings that send everyone flying.

Jean feels a calmness come over the minds of many of those she touches telepathically. The fighting lessens in pockets, but there are simply so many of them that it's disconcerting, or even gives of a feeling of initial helplessness due to the grand scope of the fighting. The battle is going on for blocks and blocks all around the city.

As Logan makes his way towards ground zero, he does pick up a whiff of the blast, which is the easy part. But the accelerant he also smells is the much trickier part. The odors lead him right to the blast, which is a quarter of a mile to the north.

Much of the information that Cypher is getting backs up Logan's nose. The epicenter is directly in front of the mutants at this point, and getting closer.

Rachel's mental assaults work without a hitch as she finds herself in less danger than she just was. "Marvel Girl," Cyclops voice comes to her in her ear piece. "Coordinate with Phoenix. As much as you can do to quell this, the better."

"Gambit," Cyclops says, dryly. "Keep hitting on my girl and I'll shave you like a diseased cat and fit you with one of those cones." Despite the banter, Gambit is effective in his attacks and goes a long way in clearing things out.

~ Rachel. ~ Jean releases the telepathic link with everyone except the other telepath. ~ I think it's time to coordinate a cease-fire, don't you? ~ She pulls up away from the small pockets she sought to quell on her own, rising to where she can get a much better overview of the city and beckoning her timetossed daughter to join her.

As she does, the raptor aura ignites around her, her eyes glow white with power, and she reaches out telepathically to join her talent with that of the younger phoenix host.

"All right, we're close to where everything began," Doug replies, perhaps unnecessarily to Logan.

Surreptiously trying to slip in information based on the crowd patterns to the military on the network as they went along, mostly to help steer the crowds free from the epicenter, as well as trying to get a read on how to keep too many people from congregating in one area, Doug works more on crowd control without being -obvious- about it. Just trying to read the crowd mood patterns ... it was rather like a game of Life, wasn't it?

Logan pushes onward further than he might otherwise, and Doug in particular would almost certainly notice the heavy pause in the Canuck's footfalls as he checks, re-checks, and re-re-checks a scent, then pushes a bit closer anyway, confirming it no less than thrice more at a closer range. "Flamin' Hell." he mutters to himself, stooping to pick at some of the rubble, turning it over in his fingertips as he draws a deep breath, necessary for calm more than communication-- for obvious reasons. |"We've got a problem."|

The feral runt's hand comes back up from the pile with a jagged, distorted edge of a strangely still shiny material that looks to have once been a metallic shell. |"Explosive was definitely used, not anybody's power."| That's the 'good' news, such as it is. |"But I've never smelled anything like it."| He holds the fragment right up to his nose, still not quite believing it. |"Not even sure it's made of anything that exists... on Earth."|

"Ah sure ain't gonna start complimentin' you, mon ami," Gambit calls back to Cyclops, completely unruffled. "Remy saved for de ladies." He sidesteps a soldier charging him with an upraised pipe, and with an impossibly dextrous motion, kicks him twice in the jaw, landing effortlessly on his feet. "You good lookin' an all but you shoah ain't my type."

Gambit moves up to cover the area Jean and Rachel had been covering as they begin to form the gestalt entity the mission briefing had informed him of. A trio of playing cards materializes in his hands and arc outwards, blossoming into explosions that send an angry handful of humans flying backwards into the air. The Cajun is actually grinning at bit at the fun he's having- it's not quite wholescale mayhem, but it's close, and it's not often one gets a chance to deal Gambit's particular hand of cards to the enemy.

"You ladies be careful up der," Remy calls up to the duo. "Ain't do much to help if dey start haulin' out de big guns." Remy charges forward, a staff flickering into his grasp as if from nowhere, and leaps up into the air, vaulting a hasty fire emplacement. A series of stout cracks with his staff sends soldiers reeling, and the Cajun gets onto the machine gun and turns it around, heavy bullets cracking through the air and knocking several approaching military vehicles off their tires. "Got some heavy tracks comin' in from de east," Remy shouts, making his voice heard by Cyclops' position. "Could use sometin' wit' a bit more thump dan dis liddle peashootah." He squints down the road at the armored fighting vehicles rumbling up towards where the X-men are making their stand.

Rachel's still breathing a bit quickly when Cyclops' voice comes in over her earpiece, reminding her of what she should be doing. "Got it." She replies, a shade breathlessly, and then Jean's in her mind. The adrenaline rush of combat ebbs, and Rachel turns in mid-air toward the other redhead. ~ I think so. ~ She swiftly replies, keeping her response professional, before a little anticipation bleeds over into her mental voice. ~ Let's do this. ~ Rachel stretches out her arms, and fire catches around her, too, a mirror image of flaming wings and talons, as the green of her eyes is swallowed in white heat. She feels Jean's mental invitation and opens herself to it, letting the more experience telepath take charge of the link while she adds her strength. She's so distracted by trying to do this /right/ that what Logan and Gambit are saying doesn't really register with her quite yet.

"Gather whatever evidence you can, Wolverine, and bring it home with us. Investigators from this place will have plenty for themselves," Cyclops remarks into the com as things are beginning to go well in the field. News that the blast may have been extra-terrestrial is something that will get more contemplation later. For now the goal was to finish getting these two sides as far away as possible in as big of an extent as possible and making sure all of the X-men get out of here alive.

"I hear you, Gambit, I'll be making my way over." Cyclops breaks into a jog in order to get himself into a better position with which to cover Gambit. He pulls back on the optic blast throttle, lowering his power to more of a stun-ability and sets himself to take aim. Before he can fire however, there's a *FWIP* sound behind him that gives him pause.

In the next moment he can feel a searing pain through his back. His immediate thought is he's been shot as blood begins to spill from his mouth. Then, a gleaming tip of some sort of edged weapons slides out the front of his chest. Scott feels his body go weak as drops to his knees. From behind a large boot kicks Cyclops off the spear and the X-leader falls face first onto the road. A figure in a mixture of metallic shielding and drape like robes leans towards Scott. Over his face he wears a non-descript blue mask that tapers down to a point well below the chin. "Munqidh sends his regards from hell. A shame Domino wasn't here for her to get what was coming either. She'll get hers too." With that. X-Cutioner presses a button and disappears from view, seemingly ready and willing to let Scott Summers die from bleeding out.

As Rachel's power joins with hers, some small fraction of her consciousness is doubtlessly surprised at both the girl's strength and her close similarity to herself. It's no wonder the Danger Room got confused. That particular fraction of consciousness, however, is so small, Jean won't likely recognize the thought until well after they're away from this place.

As their minds and talents merge, so do their auras, and the bright, cosmic raptor glows between them as if the Phoenix Entity has been reborn. (Which, okay, might give one or two of their teammates pause. Perhaps even a deepening concern.) But, it is not the Phoenix Entity that hovers over the city. It's not much more than an echo of the Phoenix Force, in fact -- that which was left behind after the Entity dissipated, in fact, residual energies embodied within the two women.

But the gestalted mind that manifests its will is twice as powerful as either of them could be alone. The gestalt reaches out, guided by Jean and supported by Rachel, to calm the minds and bodies of hundreds of thousands of people, human and mutant alike, across the city. Shooting stops. Powers are contained in hundreds of bodies. Anger is pushed aside and the message that a ceasefire must happen and discussions must occur begins to settle into every consciousness in the area.

Then, of course, the spear lances through Scott and, because of the increased awareness the gestalt enables and the bond both women share with him, the Phoenix's attention is entirely diverted to the blue-clad body falling into the dust and the figure standing over him with the bloody spear...

That can't be good.

Castching wind of Scott's order to Wolverine, Doug nods at Logan, moving to try and give a hand in gathering up the shiny material. He does start to ask, "What do you mean, not of this earth? You mean, a completely new al..."

And then Scott is stabbed, and the huge gestalted Phoenix's attention turns towards the figure standing over him, and Doug's eyes widens, the young mutant's initial impulse is to look towards Logan. "Who...?"

"On it." At the least, Scott doesn't have to worry about getting Logan out alive-- much. Which is lucky, given that more attention was clearly needed on the field commander's /own/ ass. When things go all to Hell, and the comm cuts out, Wolverine assumes the worst; or at least, seizes the opportunity provided by the lull in the fighting as rioters and soldiers begin to disperse or mill about, as if confused and lost. The flaring firebird overhead draws Logan's attention... and cements his decision.

The Canuck hands over the shrapnel he holds to Doug, and nods back the way they came. "I'll find my own way out of here, kid. And anything left at the epicenter. Get a move on before the window closes. Fast." Gritting his teeth, the runty bioweapon (somewhat uncharacteristically and abruptly) turns away from the peril of the withdrawing team, to delve deeper into the ruined cityscape itself; there are more answers to find here, and with the stakes being what they are.. Wolverine isn't leaving without those pieces.

A long and complicated string of French cursing escapes Gambit's lips as Cyclops goes down. It takes Remy a few seconds to come up with a plan of action. The Cajun scrambles down from his machine gun turret and finds a heavy military vehicle, abandoned by its occupants in the early minutes of the fight. He jumps into the driver's seat and starts lashing the steering wheel in place, one hand on the dashboard. The entire vehicle starts to glimmer, then crackle with energy as Gambit starts charging it up. "Don' know if dis gonna work," he mumbles under his breath. Remy revs the engine up and then jams a piece of cinderblock onto the accelerator pedal, causing the tachymeter to redline. He swings out of the seat, balanced on the edge of the driver's side doorway, and then kicks it into first gear.

The truck goes barreling away towards the oncoming tanks, glittering with unreleased potential energy. Remy turns and sprints straight for Scott, moving with a surprising amount of speed despite the carnage of the battlefield. He negotiates potholes and broken vehicles with long, effortless leaps, freerunning over the carnage, then skids to a halt at Cyclops' side.

"Cyclops is down!" he shouts, keeping an eye on his surrounndings with a playing card in one hand. He jams a kerchief against the hole in Scott's back, then by simple expedient of it being easiest way to do it, presses his knee- hard- against the wound. It hurts like hell, for sure, but it keeps the most pressure possible on the wound. "Ah need a doc or sometin'! All I got is a couple bandages!" He fumbles in his coat for a moment and produces a flask, unscrewing it with one hand. A belt for Remy, a liberal splash for Scott's new hole. Gambit busies himself trying to staunch the wound as the other X-men tend to the battle.

A few hundred yards away, the hyperkinetic truck slams into the tank with all the concussive force of several hundred pounds of dynamite going off. It blasts a crate in the road and destroys the tank it hits, and the others fall back before that onslaught, losing sight of their targets in the smoke and dust.

For Rachel's part, before her mind merges with Jean and there no longer really is a 'Rachel' or a 'Jean', she's astonished by how easily Jean assumes the extra power, and how deftly she wields it. There's no reluctance from Rachel in passing over control of their shared abilities, just a touch of wonder and a little bit of envy.

After that, Rachel's along for the ride, dissolving into the gestalt as their shared mind works to accomplish what neither of them could consider attempting alone, stopping a war, calming a city that had been intent on tearing itself apart.

And then, one of the four points of light that burn brightest in the Phoenix's perceptions, the minds of their fellow X-Men, explodes in agony. The Phoenix feels it in exquisite detail, with painful clarity, as the blade slides through the body of the man that both halves of it hold the strongest connection to - whether in this world or another.

"NO!" The cry is a telepathic scream as much as a vocal one, as Cyclops falls to the robed assailant. For an instant the Phoenix sees double - and then the gestalt is failing, collapsing, as pure loss and fury burns through Rachel and she pulls away.

But the connection isn't broken before she lashes out - and it's a scream of vengeance denied as the robed figure winks out before Rachel's gestalt-boosted telekinetic blast gets there. Some part of the link - Rachel's not sure that it's her - throws a telekinetic shield over Cyclops and Gambit an instant before the blast hits.

And then the street erupts. Windows shatter and chunks of concrete are thrown skywards, a haze of dirt and dust covering the resulting crater. Al least the Phoenix had already 'persuaded' the locals to disengage and clear the area.

Rachel drops to her feet, the fire around her winking out. "No." She says, almost brokenly, then starts running toward Cyclops and Gambit.

By the time Gambit and Marvel Girl get to Cyclops, the area around him is covered in blood. Gambit does a good job in stemming the flow, so to speak, but he needs attention. Immediately.

The actions of both Jean and Rachel have disrupted much of the battle. Their work in unison has saved countless lives, albeit one still hangs in the balance.

With a grunt, Cyclops coughs again. More blood spills upon the pavement. Though it takes most of his remaining energy, he struggles to bring one hand over toward the other and taps a button upon his wrist.

With a whoosh, the Blackbird becomes visible and begins to lower itself near Gambit, Rachel, and Cyclops' position.

Jean isn't at all far behind Rachel when she drops to Earth, though the elder telepath doesn't let her feet touch the ground until she's already telekinetically rocketed herself over to the man's side. She looks at how Remy applies pressure to the wound and starts to pull him back. "Use your hands, or he won't be able to breathe!"

The white shine doesn't fade from her eyes, given she's still pulling powerfully on her abilities -- albeit just her own and not Rachel's as well.

The doctor reaches out telekinetically to staunch the wound, focusing on holding the capillaries closed where she can and shoring them up where she can't. As the Blackbird descends toward them, she motions for Remy to back off enough that she can telekinetically lift Cyclops and move him into the jet. A first aid kit floats off the wall toward her.

~ Rachel~ she snaps telepathically -- not harshly but sharply. ~ I need you to look at what I'm doing and replicate it, if you can. ~ She means look with her abilities, of course. The girl is nearly as powerful as she. Not quite, mind, but nearly. And Jean's made some assessment of her control. The former hound may not have the molecular level control Jean has, but she may be able to pinch closed some blood vessels.

"Remy," she says aloud, "help me pack the wound."

Again, she glances to Ray. ~ Between the two of us, we need to keep Scott's blood on the inside. We can do it, telekinetically. But, I need to fly the plane, so it's going to be mostly up to you... ~

God damn it, where's Illyana and her portals when you need them?

Already, Jean's going through a mental list of the nearest mutant-friendly medical facilities. Finally, inhaling a deep breath, she says, "Muir Island. We've got to get to Muir Island. It's closer than New York."

"Are you sure, Logan?" Doug hesistantly asks, before gathering up the material given, and nodding at the feral X-Man.

Making his way back quickly, Doug meets the others at the plane, eyes widening at the X-Men leader's wound. Giving the others a quick look, the young man nods. "I'll fly," he says, as the others would be needed more to keep Scott -alive-.

Rachel runs across the broken ground, not having the presence of mind to use her powers, at least until Jean flashes past her.

Skidding to a halt, she sees Jean and Gambit working madly to try to stablise Scott, and for a second or two she's utterly frozen. The possibility of Scott still being alive had somehow escaped her. Under the circumstances, Jean snapping at her is /exactly/ what Rachel needs. As the words arrive in her head, Rachel blinks once, and then she's scrambling over to where the others are and dropping to her knees beside Scott. ~ I'm doing it. ~ The mental words are shaky, but when she repeats them her 'voice' is steady. ~ I'm doing it. ~ And this time she actually is, as her eyes go distant and she latches on to what Jean's doing. It's fast, it's intricate... Rachel feels a moment where panic brushes the edge of her thoughts, but she redoubles her focus. Her breathing slows, and she nods jerkily. ~ I've got it. I've got HIM. I can do this. ~ Her mental voice is like a mantra, but she /is/ doing it. "Fast as you can, Doug..." She says aloud, eyes and other senses fixed on Scott.

Within moments the remaining X-men are aboard the Blackbird and tearing out towards the west and Muir Island.

Cyclops lies upon a cot in the small medical facility, bloodied but alive. Both Rachel and Jean will be able to work together to stem the bleeding until the bird can reach its destination. With Doug at the controls, they fly through the evening for a handful of precious hours before the lights of the island come into view.