The Story

Chapter 7

"Trouble on Paradise"

On the flight to Paradise, Shadowcat ran the X-Men’s two newest members through the rough details. “Paradise is the name of a distant island inhabited exclusively by creatures who are about 35% human and 65% animal- animals of all types. One of the inhabitants- the island’s leader, last time we checked- once went by the name Bird-Brain. He hung around with the New Mutants. To be honest, we’ve never been back to the island or even bothered to check on them since… Doug. Doug- was- he…” Kitty’s voice trailed off.
“I know,” said Charles, softly. The X-Men turned to look at Charles, confusion on every face. Charles realized that he shouldn’t know anything about the tragic death of Douglas “Cypher” Ramsey on the island known as Paradise. “I can see it in your face. I’m sorry.” The X-Men relaxed, turning back to their thoughts of mortality and sacrifice.
“Aww- the pretty little X-baby has an accident?” Marrow’s voice reverberated harshly through the Blackbird’s cabin. “Everyone I ever knew or loved was slaughtered in the sewers of New York and not one of you seemed to care.
“One of you,” Marrow continued, her voice dripping with venom. “Even helped.” She ran a single finger along the length of her dagger.
“Sarah,” Storm began, her voice choked with emotion. The sentence died there. The lecture in sensitivity Storm had prepared to deliver seemed shallow and false under the circumstances. Charles and Kyle traded uneasy glances.
“Ladies and gentlemutants,” Nightcrawler said, his voice just somber enough to fall comfortably into the lines of propriety, but light enough to break the increasing tensions in the plain, “We have arrived.”
“God bless you, fuzzy-elf,” Shadowcat whispered. The ten X-Men stepped off the plane, letting their own personal problems dissipate in the warm tropical air. It was time to get down to business.

“I really wish you’d reconsider coming along, Rina.” Joe turned to look at the young Indian girl, now dressed in the green hip boots and sari that identified her as Timeslip, teenage mutant heroine.
“Forget it, Joe,” she said. “You said I was there, you said I was in costume, and you said I had my powers. If there’s any chance of getting them back, I’m in. No matter what.”
“I said I thought you had your powers. I wasn’t even paying attention to you. And I never saw you do any timeslipping. I thought I might have maybe heard you say something about getting your powers back. That’s all. Instead, you’re going to be a liability.”
“Oh, like you’re the big bad- what did you call yourself? ‘Scavenger’ now. An ugly green jacket and a blaster glove makes you a superhero?”
“Can the chatter, people.” Night Thrasher’s voice broke in to Joe and Rina’s banter. “We’re almost on the X-Mansion. Joe, start taking us down.”
“Roger.” Joe began to bring the Pogo Plane in for a landing. In the seat customarily held by the Invisible Woman was the now-powerless Rina Patel. Behind her sat Night Thrasher. And, in the extra-large seat normally reserved for the Thing, Rage sat calmly taking in the sights. As the Pogo Plane touched down, so did Kymaera, Turbo, Powerhouse, and Nova, (unhappily) carrying Speedball, the Masked Marvel. “Welcome to the Xavier estate,” Joe said, “Home of the infamous X-Men. Let’s go save my friend’s life, shall we?”
“Not a bad idea,” said a voice from the road. Had Joe ever been able to actually hear his comic books, he would have immediately recognized the voice. It belonged to one of the newer, now retired, X-Men, Dr. Cecilia Reyes. “Not a bad idea,” she repeated, “But if you’re looking for the X-Men, you’re out of luck. They took off about an hour ago for some place called ‘Paradise.’”

“ X- X- X-MEN Where Rahne, Dani, Sam? Where friends? ” Bird-Brain, King of Paradise was there to meet the X-Men as they deboarded.
“The New Mutants have changed much since you saw them last, friend,” Storm replied, keeping her voice steady and her patience in check despite the fact that she was speaking with an almost-man with EVERY ANNOYING HABIT EVER. EVER.
“But the X-Men are here to help you. I am Storm. With me is Wolverine, Rogue, Gambit, Nightcrawler, Shadowcat, Colossus, Marrow, and our two newest recruits…”
The pause Storm left to brace herself was so faint Bird-Brain certainly didn’t notice. Charles noticed, though, and flushed with embarrassment. I have GOT to get a real code-name, he thought. “…Mr. Negativity and No-Powers Boy.”
“ Stupid name! ”
“Oh, yeah, like ‘Bird-Brain’ is so great!” Kyle yelled.
“Easy, tovarisch. There is no need for anger.” Colossus let his metal palm rest on Kyle’s shoulder. As Kyle buckled under the gentle weight, he found himself wishing he could remember enough Russian to tell Peter Rasputin what he really thought.
Once Storm saw that the situation was resolved, she turned back to Bird-Brain. “We are here to help you. What is the problem?”
“ Evil!” cried Bird-Brain. Before Storm could press for details, the details made themselves abundantly clear.

“Cecilia said the X-Men were headed to Paradise. So, they’re either gambling in Peoria or they’ve gone to Bird-Brain’s island.”
“Bird-Brain?” asked Timeslip.
“Don’t ask,” said Joe. “Thank God Reed’s on-board computer knows what to look for, ‘cause hell if I know where Paradise is.”
“I can see it!” Speedball cried. “I can see Paradise by the Dashboard Light!”
“So help me, Robbie, if you make one more Meatloaf joke, I’ll drop you in the Atlantic.” Nova’s tone was just serious enough to be scary.
“Well, it looks like we’re in for a little trip, boys and girls,” Nita said, circling her way through her fellow New Warriors. “How ‘bout a little conversation?” When no one spoke, Kymaera’s tone grew a little more pointed. “Alex,” she said, grinning wickedly. “What kind of girls do you like?” Alex Power turned as red as his sister’s jumpsuit, trying hard to stammer out some answer- any answer- but failing miserably. “Uh-huh,” Namorita said, grinning at Turbo and the Scavenger.

Bird-Brain and the X-Men turned to face Fabian Cortez, leader of the mutant terrorist organization known as the Acolytes. At his side was Amelia Voght, the woman intended to be the first recruit of the X-Men, now serving on the opposite side. They were backed by six other mutants, none of whom were recognized by any of the X-Men.
“If we are to best serve the interests of our lord Magneto,” Cortez said, a wicked sneer appearing on his face, “we must first establish a base of power. You X-Men, to one degree or another, are responsible for destroying our homes on Asteroid M, the base you once used in Australia, our European chateau, and then in the Savage Land. This land, however, will be our grandest base yet. With the pathetic Bird-Brain and his laughable band of beasts under our heel, we have access to this beautiful island, its rich natural resources, and the overwhelming amounts of technology purloined from the Ani-Mator and Cameron Hodge’s mutant-hating Right. How any of these simpletons managed to enter our stronghold, let alone operate the telephone systems within is beyond me. But, since you X-Men have come riding to the rescue, rest assured that my Acolytes and I are more than willing to kill you if that’s what it takes to make this island our newest Avalon. This is a good place for X-Men to die, isn’t it?”
“You asshole!” Kyle shouted, shaking his fist in the air.
“A new member or two, I see. You shall be the first to die.”
“Oh, damn,” said Kyle, only half sarcastically.
“Acolytes,” Cortez commanded. “Spill their blood.”

“You know, this suit is able to alter itself to fit the visual preferences of its wearer,” Turbo said. “And while it is nice, I was thinking of maybe changing it. Alex, do you have any thoughts?”
“Well,” the eldest Power said, “Black, while plain, is a very flattering color on you, and the lines are nice. Still, I’ve always thought of you as a winter, favoring shades of darker grays or blues.” He stopped to see Turbo and Kymaera exchanging wicked smirks. “Oh, shut up.”

The battle raged across the wind-swept plain. As Nightcrawler *bamf*ed his way around Voght’s own teleportational abilities and Marrow pursued the fleeing Fabian Cortez, the remaining X-Men squared off against the newest wave of Acolytes. Shadowcat served primarily in a defensive capacity, phasing free those Ani-Mates who got to close to stray power blasts or debris. Kyle, meanwhile, skirted around the perimeter of the battlefield, trying hard to look busy without actually endangering himself. This left six X-Men to fight six Acolytes. Almost unconsciously, each member of the team chose a sparring partner, confining his or her attacks to one enemy.
Colossus’ enemy was a young British girl who called herself Rend. Her appearance and mannerisms seemed too refined for such messy concepts as political struggle and hatemongering. In a sense, she reminded him of the ex-English, ex-Telepathic, now Asian ninja, Psylocke. As Colossus moved to grapple the young girl, his path was blocked by a nearby boulder, which seemed to flow right in front of him with a wave of her hand. “My power is to telekinetically melt and manipulate any solid objects in my path. Charming, isn’t it?”
“Nyet!” cried Colossus, smashing his way through her stone barricade. He raised a metal hand to strike the girl.
“It doesn’t work on flesh, of course,” she continued, sweetly. “But I’m betting your dense steel flesh will be no problem at all. Care to see?”
Colossus opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a scream of pain as his body was twisted and contorted in to all sorts of inhuman shapes.

“I shore do ‘preciate your standing still like this, sugah,” Rogue said, flying towards an elderly black man. “It makes it so much easiah to smack you one.”
“It’s simply my pleasure, Rogue,” the man said. “I won’t put up half as much fuss as- what was his name again? Oh, yeah, that’s right- Cody.” Upon hearing the name of the young boy whose life Rogue accidentally destroyed, the Southern Belle stopped short. “You really are terrible with the gentlemen, aren't you, Rogue. Leading poor Gambit on, then leaving him all alone in the middle of Antartica.” Rogue fell to her knees, tears rolling down her face. “I never meant to hurt anyone,” she said through her sobs.
“Yes, I’m sure that’s exactly what you told Carol Danvers as you were dumping her body into the San Francisco Bay. Say, Rogue- would you care to guess why they call me Dismay?”

The Acolyte Badger took his code name solely out of spite. His senses were nowhere near as sharp as Wolverine’s, and Badger definitely didn’t have retractable bone claws. Still, he was superhumanly strong and fast, and his skin was tough enough to deflect knives, bullets, and other small-impact weapons. It was no mutant healing factor, but it was enough to make a young punk from Cleaveland, Ohio take a sarcastic jab at the well-known X-Man. His battle with Wolverine was a gruesome series of feints and sidesteps. Badger knew better than to try to take Wolverine down, but he was sure he could keep the mutant busy long enough for one of his own allies to step in. Fists and claws flashed back-and-forth at lightning speed.

As a young child, Storm was buried under the dead bodies of her parents. The ordeal left her terribly claustrophobic. Storm’s psychosis was hardly public knowledge, but Magneto’s continued clashings with the X-Men gave the Acolytes a small measure of advantage. When Storm found herself locked inside a tiny, dingy stone cell, she didn’t consider that it might be a telepathic trick. Nor did she guess that the French prostitute-turned-mutant-terrorist known as Oubliette was the one responsible. All Storm knew to do was to scream. And as she did so, the weather in her area became horrific. High-speed winds whipped rocks and branches through the Ani-Mate refugees, leaving Shadowcat working overtime just to save everyone’s life. Oubliette grinned, delighting in the misery her simple power was causing.

Gambit was always a man of many talents. Charming with the ladies, handy with a lockpick, quick with words and quicker with his bo staff, and possessed of the mutant ability to throw kinetically-charged projectiles. Unfortunately, none of these talents seemed to help against the Acolyte, Wall. Outwardly, Wall seemed to be around twenty-five years old. In fact, wall was a very trusting fourteen-year-old boy, whose mutancy left his body virtually impenetrable. In addition, young Brian Mitchum’s body sprouted to an amazing seven-and-a-half feet tall, with his shoulders stretching to nearly as long. Cursed with the physique of, well, a wall, Brian was easily persuaded by Fabian Cortez to join the Acolytes. And, if Fabian wanted Gambit’s blood spilled, then that’s what he was going to get.

“What do you do?” Charles asked his opponent, a clean-cut young man who could of passed as Charles’ brother- or perhaps cousin.
“Name’s Spectrum,” the young man said. “I do this.” Charles watched as Spectrum’s arms began to radiate a rainbow of multi-colored energies. No, Charles thought, they’re becoming energy. His arms match my hands. Spectrum charged at Charles, throwing a punch at the young X-Man’s face. Charles brought his hand up to block, tightening his grip on his opponent’s fist. Spectrum wrapped his free hand around Charles’ loose hand. The two began to wrestle, each trying to knock the other down without letting go. “Pretty impressive,” Spectrum grunted. “Most folks can’t touch me when I’m doin’ this.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Charles grunted. Who am I kidding? This guy’s just as strong as I am, and if I let go I risk letting him burn any one of my other, unprotected body parts. We’re completely matched. Charles was right.

“Alex?” Joe asked, “Do you like movies about gladiators?”

Charles felt his foot slipped, and mentally cursed his lack of discipline. Sheer brute pushing matches were not his forte. Spectrum now had the upper hand. Charles would have died right there if a well-placed tree branch hadn’t slammed mightily into the back of Spectrum’s head.
“Kyle!” Charles beamed. “Thank God! You saved my life!”
Kyle shrugged nonchalantly and softly said, “Kyle is strongest one there is.”

Gambit tried every attack he could think of. Not one seemed to faze Wall at all. Then, Gambit noticed the carefully controlled waddle with which his opponent walked. Extending his bo staff to its full length, Gambit charged at the Wall. Just before making contact, Gambit planted his staff in the ground, and vaulted into the air, striking the Wall full in the face with both feet. Gambit’s sudden weight caught the giant mutant by surprise, and he toppled on to his back. Like a turtle, Wall rocked back and forth, trying to stand, but his body’s natural rigidity worked against him, leaving him stuck on the ground. Gambit fixed his opponent with a look of disgust and said, “Now dat’s what I call ‘the Big Easy.’”

Get a grip on yourself, Ororo, Storm mentally chided herself. Yes, it is cold. Yes, it is dark. But prisons like this do not appear from nowhere. This is obviously a mental device of some sort. Remember what the Professor taught you. Remember how to see beyond the illusion. Opening her eyes, Storm could vaguely make out the shape of a slightly overweight woman, her sagging eyes fixed in concentration. The image began to waver as Storm was drawn back into her dungeon, but once she made visual contact, Storm was home free. The illusion disappeared entirely as high winds picked Oubliette off the ground, tossing her around like a rag doll. For the cruel punishment inflicted upon her, Storm allowed herself an extra moment to play with the Acolyte before dropping her to the ground, soundly defeated.

“You’re good, kid,” Wolverine growled. “But you’re awfully sloppy.” He slashed forward with his claws, knowing full well that Badger would duck underneath them and try to double around. As he brought his claws forward, Wolverine also slid his foot back, tripping the young punk as he tried to dodge. Before Badger could react, Wolverine was on top of him, pinning the man to the ground. >Snikt< >Snikt< Wolverine popped two of his claws, one landing on either side of Badger’s neck. “Care to see the third one, bub?” Wolverine asked.

Dismay stood over Rogue as she sobbed. He was using his mutant power to gloat, sinking Rogue further and further into misery. “What was it like, dear girl, to be raised by a blue-skinned whore of a mutant terrorist?” His words jabbed deeper into Rogue’s brain. Then, Dismay learned how quickly disappointment can become rage. Rogue’s hand shot up, squeezing Dismay’s throat and catching the words he was about to speak. “You shore don’t know nothin’ ‘bout Southern ladies, do ya? Yeah, I made mah mistakes. You can talk ‘bout Cody, and Gambit, and Carol all you like. But when you talk to a Southern gal like me, you don’t evah, evah talk bad ‘bout mah mama! Do you understand me?”
Whatever answer Dismay might have had was lost, as he took that moment to faint.

“It seems my powers work simply smashingly on your metal skin. Isn’t that delightful?” Rend chuckled as she continued to bend Colossus’ body back and forth.
“It… seems… they… do…” Colossus grunted through the pain. “But you already said they don’t work on human flesh.” Rend’s eyes widened as she saw Colossus striding towards her, now converted back into his human, but still powerfully built, form. Before she could gather her wits to form any sort of weapon, Colossus gave the villainess a gentlemanly push, knocking her to the ground and out for the count.

“Fools!” cried Fabian Cortez. He had lost Marrow near the bunker, and doubled back to his original position. “If you won’t let us have this land, then we certainly won’t leave it standing! The last man to control this island left the whole place rigged with enough high explosives to sink the whole damn thing! In three minutes, everything you see will sit below the ocean!”
“No!” spat Marrow, running at Cortez from over the ridge. “You’re going to kill all these innocent creatures? You’re just as evil as the ones who destroyed my people, slaughtered them because they are different!” With a swipe of her dagger, Marrow sliced a gash across Cortez’s face.
“Bitch!” yelled Cortez. His hand slapped across Marrow’s face. As he made contact, Cortez activated his own mutant power, sending Marrow’s dangerously out of control. Bones began to sprout from every point on Marrow’s body. The young girl cried out in terrible pain. Within seconds, Marrow was completely paralyzed by the abundance of her own bones. “Amelia!” Cortez ordered. “Take us away!” With a wave of her hand, Amelia and her fellow Acolytes vanished.
“X-Men,” Kitty yelled. “The last time these computers were rigged to detonate, it took Cypher’s language power to shut them down. I don’t have that kind of talent or that kind of time, and I’m afraid if I disrupt the circuits I’ll activate the bombs prematurely. We’ve got about two and a half minutes to get every living creature off this island!”
“They will not all fit on the Blackbird,” Storm shouted. “Nightcrawler- take Marrow and as many of the children as you can manage to the plane, then prepare for take-off! Rogue- gather the strongest cables you can find! Colossus and Wolverine, you shall dismantle the top of the bunker! Kitty, Charles, and Kyle, begin leading the others here. We have two minutes!” The X-Men zipped off to their various duties. Wolverine’s claws (aided by the laser equipment found inside) dug a trench about three-quarters of the way up the walls of the bunker. Then, Colossus’ strength tore the roof straight off the building. Storm’s winds flipped the giant bowl over, and Rogue darted around it, stringing cables first to the sides of their makeshift rescue craft, then to the bottom of the Blackbird. Charles, Kyle, and Kitty quickly herded everyone on the island into the former roof of their home. “This device will not hold long at all, Kurt,” said Storm. “So we must leave immediately for the nearest island.”
The Blackbird’s engines strained with the weight and complexity of their task. Sweat poured from Rogue’s face as she strained to hold their bizarre contraption together. Storm, too, began to break a sweat as she shifted as much warm wind as she could manage to the underside of the craft. Slowly, the plane and it’s cargo lifted into the air, streaking toward a nearby island. Just as the bowl reached the end of the island, Charles caught sight of a young “boy,” half-human, half-bear cub, crying all alone. Without thinking, he leaped free of the craft, and scooped the young boy into his arms. As soon as he held the child, Charles realized his mistake. With Nightcrawler too weak to teleport again so soon, and the team’s only fliers assisting the rescue effort, there was no one available to save him. With the bunker’s roof missing, Charles could easily read the countdown. 10… 9… 8…

“Boy, it’s a good thing we got here when we did, isn’t it?” Alex “Powerhouse” Power asked as he lifted Charles and the young boy off the ground seconds before it sank into the ocean. He circled once, then dropped his two passengers into the Pogo Plane. “I’d better go help those guys ahead of us,” Alex said. “If I degravitize that boat full of people, things will probably go a lot easier.”
“Alex,” Joe said, stopping the young man just before he sped off.
“Yes?”
“My friend Chuck has a nice body, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, he… oh, shut up!” Alex sped off to assist the rescue effort. As it turns out, the residents of Paradise had a wonderful home waiting for them just nearby.


Back to Chapter 6
Chapter 8
Back to the homepage
1