Three years ago.

"Blake, I need you in my office ASAP."

Dr. Donald Blake sighed and rubbed his eyes. Since joining the Right a year ago, he had been working almost non-stop on trying to come up with a way to fight the mutants. He wasn't cut out for this kind of work and he knew it. An ordinary physician simply did not have the knowledge nor experience for this sort of research. But Stephen Lang, the head of the Right's facility in the Badlands, had insisted that he do the work. Most of the scientists in North America were either dead or had fled to Europe. Well, the human ones did anyway. So now he was stuck in what used to be South Dakota, doing research that was way above his level of expertise, and to top it all off, having orders barked at him by Lang.

He got up, nodded to his lab assistant, and went to Lang's office. He took a deep breath, getting ready to deal with the man, and knocked on the door with his cane.

"Come in."

Donald walked into the room and sat down in front of the desk, shifting his body so that his crippled leg would have as little pressure on it as possible. "What did you want to see me about?"

Lang stood in front of his window, staring out into the night. "I think we've finally got something, something that could help us, Donald. Something that could give us the power to finally be rid of this...this plague." He turned around and faced Donald. "One of the patrols came across a being with unusual abilities. I've talked to it already and I want you to examine it, find out how we can use it."

Donald was puzzled. "A being with unusual abilities, huh? Sounds like a mutant to me."

Stephen leaned over the desk and smiled. "No, not a mutant. This thing is alien."

A few hours before.

Stephen Lang considered himself an unlucky man. He was well on his way to a successful career in Washington when the genetic war broke out. His family was killed in the fighting, and he had to flee for his life. He eventually found his way into the Right, but instead of the power and glory he felt was rightfully his, he got stuck in the middle of nowhere, at a research facility that didn't even have a proper scientist.

Tonight he felt like his luck might change.

He walked into the med lab. The head of security, Jacob Watts, was waiting for him. Behind him, Lang could make out several people working on...something in the containment unit. "What's going on, Watts?" he asked.

Jacob ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Well, sir, as you know, radar picked up an object entering our airspace earlier. Twenty minutes ago I sent a team to find out what it was. And that," he pointed into the unit, "is what they found, along with the craft."

"And what exactly is that?"

"We don't know, sir. It appears to be, well, extraterrestrial."

Stephen raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, sir. Not only that, but it appears to be partially mechanical in nature. Sort of a...a...a techno-organic type of creature."

"Techno-organic? That's a new one. I like the sound of it, though."

Lang walked up to the glass partition of the containment unit and peered in. He smiled to himself. "I like it a lot."

The present.

"Head up, Force!"

"Hey, ow, watch it, Rogue!"

"Oops, sorry. Ah'm still not used to this flying thing."

Vance Astrovik rubbed the spot on his head where Rogue had nicked him with her knee. A few weeks ago, she had been ambushed by one of Onslaught's newest prelates, a girl named M. Rogue was usually able to control her mutant ability to absorb another person's memories and powers through skin-to-skin contact, but M had caught her off-guard and ever since that fight, Rogue had been trying to get used to her new powers, which included super-strength and flight. The rest of the team were learning to live with it.

"Here Ah come!"

Vance ducked just in time as Rogue missed his head by a few inches. As the only other member of the team that could "fly", Vance got stuck trying to help their leader get the hang of it.

He heard someone laughing behind him and turned around to see Locus. She smiled and pointed to Rogue. "Still doesn't have the hang of it, I see."

"Nah, flying is a lot harder than it looks. It takes," they ducked, "a lot of concentration." Locus chuckled.

"Well, until she gets better, maybe we should go around wearing helmets," she suggested. Rogue circled around and landed beside them.

"Ah heard that, Locus." Locus stuck her tongue out and was about to say something when Jesse Bedlam ran up the hill.

"Hey, boss, Bishop's here to see ya."

Rogue frowned slightly. "Alright, let's head back.

The four mutants walked back to the Blue squad's barracks. The X-Men had split up about six months ago, and Rogue had taken her team back to America, settling just outside of St. Louis. In that time, she had seen Bishop in person maybe three times. Usually he would have Exodus or Gateway deliver his messages. Whatever he wanted, it must have been important for him to make a personal appearance.

Bishop sat in the conference room, with Exodus standing behind him. Rogue turned to her three companions and told them to run drills with the rest of the team. They left and Rogue walked into the room alone. Bishop nodded to her in greeting.

"Good to see you, Rogue. Have a seat."

She sat down across from him, trying to not let her nervousness show. Bishop was one of the most intimidating men she had ever met. Even after all these years, even after he made her one of the X-Men's team leaders, Rogue felt like the frightened little girl that Bishop had found.

"So, what's up?"

Bishop leaned forward and clasped his hands together in front of his face. "Do you remember when Ororo and Kurt found Karma?"

Rogue nodded. "Yeah, they said she had been attacked by some other mutants, right?"

"That's what we had thought at first. But I've recently come across some information that suggests otherwise."

"What do you mean?"

Bishop sighed. "It appears that the two beings that attacked Karma were extra-terrestrial in origin. And not only that, but they have a connection to the Right."

Rogue's eyes grew wider. The Right was well known for their anti-mutant stance, going so far as killing people that might give birth to mutant children.

"We were able to trace them to a facility in the Badlands. I need you to take your team and find out what's going on. And stop them, whatever they're doing."

"How did you learn all this?" she asked.

Bishop stared at her, as if choosing his words carefully. "I can't say at this time. But you have to trust me on this, Rogue." She thought about for a moment. Bishop was the one that had found her when her powers were first emerging. She had been all alone, hiding from the world, but he had rescued her and made her part of his family, one of his X-Men. She owed him everything.

"All right, Ah'll do it."

Two years ago.

Donald Blake looked over his notes. The being they had found a year ago, Warlock, was a fascinating study. He was a member of a race called the Technarch that lived in deep space. Their sole purpose in life was to find other beings on which to feed, a task accomplished by infecting victims with some sort of virus that converted them into what Lang called "techno-organic" creatures.

Blake sighed. As much as he had learned from Warlock, he still didn't see any use he would be to the Right. Perhaps one on one Warlock could defeat an Alpha class, but mutants rarely travelled alone, especially not the Prelates. He rubbed his eyes wearily. If only they had an army of Warlocks, then maybe...

He sat up and looked over his notes again. "Dammit, that's it! That's it!" He picked up the phone and dialed. "Lang, it's Blake. I don't care what you're doing right now, this is more important." He leaned back in his chair and smiled. "I think I might have found what we've been looking for."