The X-Project

In the morning, they find themselves facing their jailers, and Minister Thomas Moreau.



The long night in the cells had passed fitfully. Trapped in the concrete prison, without window or clocks, time seemed to slow to an indeterminate crawl. The only sense of passing hours they could mark was when the face that would regularly check their room through the viewpoint changed. After an eternity, the doors were opened, and they were hustled from their cells by armed guards. The Magistrates brought them forward in small groups, easily overmatched by the guards, and shoved naked through the prison back to the same massive room that they had started.

“I want two rows, ten feet apart.” One of the Magistrates barked at them, and with a combination of gestures and shoves for those who didn’t move fast enough, they were mustered into two rows. He waved forward a small cluster of lab coated men and women, who began to move quietly around them, obviously providing quick physicals. They were thorough and quick, making their attentions more invasive.

Angelo had stopped overtly fighting, not seeing the point when they were so hugely outnumbered. He refused to make it easy for them, though, instead opting for passive resistance, eyes filled with defiance.

Fred looked around, from his captors to Angelo and Yvette then back again. His chest heaving, and his fists clenched. The residual pain of being depowered still pulsed through him and made it hard to even glower at his captors. The part of him growling for an opening and broken bones and screaming foreigners was quieted as soon as he remembered how many of his friends were still unaccounted for. But soon...

Without his powers, Matt was quite literally blind and stumbled awkwardly as he was pushed and prodded into place when he didn’t move fast enough. Without a cane or something to help him though, there was no way he could move with any sort of confidence, even if he had any bravado or defiance left in him. He was blind and scared and it most likely showed.

Next to him, Yvette initially refused to remove her hands from where she was covering herself up. It was only when one of the guards raised a hand to strike her did she cooperate, tears streaming down her face as she was poked and prodded, her entire body trembling. Even so, she managed a choked “it will be all right, Matt” as a small gesture of comfort, realising how much worse things had to be for the blind boy.

Like Yvette down the line from her, Layla had been covering herself as best she could with her hands but it was when the attention of the lab coats came to those near her that she was tempted to remove them in favor of landing a punch to one of their noses. She wondered what they would do to her if she did. They’d probably knock her out so she couldn’t be such a nuisance. There were worse things than being hit, though. She’d been in enough fights to know that. Apparently one needed more than to strip and kidnap Layla to beat the stubborn out of the girl, though. She not only had to be backhanded by a guard but have her arms forcibly pulled behind her so the lab coat in front of her could inspect her. Layla thanked him for his attention by spitting at him and earned another backhand in the process.

Laurie stood tall in the line, waiting for the people in lab coats to reach her, before stepping back slightly. “If you tell me what it is you’re looking for with these physicals, I can easily tell you what you want to know.”

“We’re not really interested in what some American teenager has to say.” The man said, nodding to the guard who put her back in place with a vicious shove with his gun in the small of her back. He leaned forward, speaking quietly in her ear. “And some of these guards would be happy if you gave them an excuse to put you down defending themselves. Maybe consider the fact that you are in incredible danger before running your mouth, kid.”

Meggan struggled to keep from crossing her arms over her chest or cover herself in any way, seeing that they would only be yanked behind her again. Visibly nervous and naturally uncomfortable under their gaze, she looked away as she was inspected. A brief, quickened breath gave away that she was struggling not to tear up in front of them. She had resolved to not stick out her tongue at them out of annoyance and defiance, seeing as that would only get that inspected or yanked, too.

Since her parents were doctors Molly knew how a doctor’s visit was supposed to go. But it wasn’t like this. It was cruel and cold and scary. And she couldn’t stop shaking so the bad guy holding her had to hold her really still by grabbing her really hard around the arms and told her to stop. So she tried really hard and closed her eyes really tight until they were done. She was afraid to talk cause the adults did and it didn’t work out very well.

Opposite many of the others, Korvus was striving to be as helpful as possible. He turned as necessary to help speed along the inspection process. While he knew it wouldn’t earn him any favor with the other captives, he hoped he could lure the staff into complacency at some point further down the line.

Like the younger man, Marius allowed his limbs to be manipulated and various parts palpated without complaint, though with not quite as much apparent grace. A considerable part of his adolescence had involved some manner of medical exams or another, which was fortunate as the memories served not only as a means of desensitization, but a welcome distraction to keep him from punching someone in the face. Yvette was trying to be quiet, but each hitched breath that escaped rang loud in his ears.

Marius reminded himself that surprise was the only card he had. In this state of mind, a punch in the face would likely become an inadvertent decapitation. So he let the men shine lights in his mouth, ears and other orifices, and kept his eyes firmly locked on the opposite wall. He couldn't give any of the girls clothing, but he could at least attempt a modicum of privacy.

It was hard watching the guards hitting Layla without saying or doing anything about it. The first time she’d been struck Sarah had reflexively made a move in the blonde’s general direction but was roughly hauled back into place by the guard nearest her, doing so with a sharp and painful tug on the brunette’s hair. Tears that she’d previously managed to get under control had begun to flow freely then, and continued to stream down her cheeks as she stood in line. Her eyes were mostly fixed straight ahead as she tried not to look at her friends and fellow mutants being inspected as if they were cattle, though it was hard not to steal glances now and then, especially in Layla’s direction. The best she could do was to force her mind back to playing video games in her room, mainly first person shooters like Halo or Gears of War, her thumbs twitching ever so slightly at her sides as if holding onto a phantom controller, and she pretended the enemies she was mowing down in her mind were the scum doing this to her and the others.

Maddie hummed. It was her way of keeping herself distracted as she was examined like a sow at a livestock show. Only, she wasn’t so sure that she wanted to win; the prize probably wasn’t going to be a thousand dollars. So to keep from thinking of it, she hummed the tune of “The Army Goes Rolling Along.” Maybe her dad would somehow telepathically hear her, through that connection that had always seemed to let him know she was in trouble before. Then she eyed the Magistrates once more.

Or maybe not.

Seeing her students crying and struggling and trying to reassure one another broke Adrienne’s heart, which pissed her off to no end. She’d been shooting off her usual offensive banter to the guards restraining her about sexual prowess and mothers and that sort of thing, resulting in fists and boots to her face and body. But Maddie’s humming finally made her stop. Something about that distraction tactic had her suddenly realizing that things were so much worse than she’d let herself think, and that running her mouth off, as she’d actually come to realize years before but had let herself forget, did not help make the situation better. She needed to think of something, do something useful, to help get the kids out of this, instead of just pissing people off and injuring herself.

Cammie's face was caked with bits of dried blood with bruises dotting her skin. She was still letting out a string of profanity that at this point didn't even mean anything other than to seemingly show off how many parts of a sentence could be covered with the word 'fuck.' In this case it sounded like she was adding punctuation to the list of things the word could be used for. She was naked, and though that made her cold, she didn't notice or care. Her voice was hoarse from how much she had been carrying on, and her throat sore, but she didn't stop.

***

“These are the terrorists. Healthy?” The man turned to one of the doctors, who passed over a touchscreen.

“Yes, Minister Moreau.”

“Good. Let’s see what we have.” He was an older man, ruddy faced and beefy in the manner of one who’d been powerful in his youth and lived an outdoor lifestyle, only to now put on weight as he got older. His gaze was hard as he walked along slowly, surveying them, and unlike the doctors, he didn’t bother to keep his professional and detached.

Kane’s hands twitched as the man went by him, trying to suppress the urge to take him as a hostage. If it was just him or a few X-Men, he’d risk it. But that Anderson had it right when they were captured; the kids were the best defense that the Genoshans had.

“Getting angry, son?” His accent was muddled, somewhere between the Afrikaans drawl and a rough, British one.

“I’m not your fucking son, pal. I’m an Inspector in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, currently working for the FBI. So when you pull out the terrorist card, you’re going to have two G8 nations publicly calling you on your bullshit.” Kane leaned forward. “You get us on the first plane back to New York, and your little flyspeck of a country might have a chance of wriggling out of this one before the biggest trade embargo in history gets slapped on you.”

The man smiled, nodded, and then drove a powerful punch right into Kane’s stomach, dropping him to his knees. “If we choose to bring you to trial, Mister FBI, it will be because of your association with a known supporter of Magneto, the international mutant terrorist. Our intelligence has confirmed that on more than one occasion, mutants associated with Xavier’s school have been on hand during his terrorist attacks. As far as our security services are concerned, you all are a Brotherhood cell.”

He stepped back. “I also said that’s if we wanted a trial. Politically, it would be a simple matter to make all of you disappear without a trace as an object lesson to Xavier when he thinks he can dictate the affairs of other countries.” He waved the doctor over. “I’ve made my decision. Those two blondes, the pink girl and the winged freak, those two brunettes , the fat one and the blind kid.”

The guards moved forwards to take them.

Yvette gasped, shrinking back from the guards as they came for her. She didn’t know what she’d been picked for, but it couldn’t be good. But she was an X-Man and there were others needing protection here. “Not the children,” she quavered, trying to ignore the fact she was still naked and now all eyes were on her. “Please, they have done nothing. Whatever you are doing, do it to us, not them.” Whatever else she had been going to say was cut off by a cry of pain as her slender arms were twisted behind her and she was pushed forward towards the waiting doctor.

Standing there quietly, Sarah was also unsure for what she’d been selected, exactly, but she too realized it wasn’t going to be a positive experience. She instinctively took a step backwards when the guards moved forward to take the prisoners indicated by the man who’d just punched Kane, but that didn’t do any good as the guard who approached her quickly grabbed her by the shoulders, jerking her toward him. Sarah fell to her knees from the sudden motion, crying out as she skinned her knees and because the impact hurt, damn it. As soon as she’d fallen she was yanked back up to her feet, however, and dragged along by the same guard to wherever it was they wanted to take her and the others. The shock of the whole situation had rendered her mute, aside from the occasional involuntary whimpering from the pain.

“If you hurt them”, Angelo said, voice low as he stared hard at the nearest doctor, “any of them, you will bring a storm down on your little dictatorship you’ll never forget.”

“I have no doubt Magneto is already preparing his forces, ready to impose his will on democratic countries who oppose his mutant fanaticism. Actually, I’m rather hoping it happens. Because we’ll use his own brainwashed soldiers to bring him down, try him on camera for the whole world to watch, and then execute the sick mongrel.” Moreau nodded, and a rifle stock smashed into Angelo’s skull, dropping him. “The next time one of you threatens me, we’ll take it out on the youngest one here. Do you filth understand me?”

Amara was struggling not to fight back, not to snarl at the guards who had come forward to grab her. But then she'd watched Angelo crumple to the ground and she couldn't help herself. She yanked her arms, trying to break free, to go to her friends, but the men holding her were far too strong. All she got for her trouble was a wrenched shoulder and hands tightening around her biceps. She'd be covered in bruises after this, she was sure.

Adrienne struggled against the guard that was restraining her in the line, wanting to at least go help Angelo up or something. For once, she didn’t say anything, taking Moreau’s threat about hurting one of the students seriously. All she got for her struggles, though, was a boot to the back of the knee. She went down hard, hoping to use her fall to wriggle away, but the guard’s grip on her never wavered.

The bad guys reminded Molly of Stormtroopers, except worse. They talked about doing bad things like killing people. Before it was okay because it didn’t mean anything cause the X-People would save the day but the X-People were there, and they were getting hurt. And they weren’t saving the day. And the bad guys were taking people away. She didn’t understand where. And she heard a loud sound, a crack, loud, loud, ‘cause she was right next to it. Mr. Angelo fell, really fast, like a doll somebody threw away and he had red all over his head. And Molly knew it was blood, a lot of blood. And she screamed. She couldn’t cover her face cause the bad guys had her arms behind her back.

Meggan gasped at the sound of the crack and the sight of dripping blood, wanting to help Angelo as he fell, to do something. Staunch the flow of blood, at the very least. She began to instinctively step forward, only to be grabbed roughly by the soldier behind her. Fingers dug even tighter into her forearm, and she winced. “Please stop this—don’t take them!” She didn’t know what was going to happen to Sarah, to Yvette, to everyone else picked, or what they were being selected for. Just that they were hurting people to do it, and everyone was helpless. Even to provide a tiny measure of comfort, so Molly wouldn’t have to see this.

Eyes narrowed as Korvus watched a man grab Meggan. He leaned slightly to the side in line, enough to be seen without appearing aggressive. He wanted to see the obviously bigoted man speaking but he needed to cover the desire with a distraction. “I believe employing child soldiers will only rob you of any international legitimacy.” He didn’t suspect a rational argument would change the man’s mind but threats had not either.

“That only applies to people. Not things.” Moreau motioned at one of the guards. “Hit the girl he was watching.”

“Sir?” The guard replied, confused and Moreau sighed heavily.

“That girl. Hit. Her.” He said, enunciating heavily. The magistrate looked from him to his watch commander and back, before slinging his weapon across his back. His slap echoed in the room, snapping Meggan’s head to one side. The magistrate was a big man, and the blow was obviously not at full force.

“Now do it properly.” Moreau’s voice was full of low menace. Behind him, a pair of magistrates restrained Garrison, who was fighting to reach the line. The magistrate took a deep breath, and almost gently tilted Meggan’s chin up before landing a hammer-like right into her cheek.

Meggan grunted with pain as the fist connected. If she had been allowed to move her arms, she would have covered her face, instead of staggering back into the soldier before she regained her balance, wobbly thought it was at first. Her right cheek was throbbing insistently now, she could feel where the punch had managed to cut her, drawing some blood. Which she couldn’t wipe away. If she weren’t sure it would lead to far worse repercussions than one punch, she’d have said or bitten something. She quietly glared at him instead, as she caught her breath.

While his comment wasn’t a threat, as Moreau had warned against, Korvus didn’t think he would appreciate the distinction. Instead the young man simply went silent. He managed to look at the Minister directly and also confirmed a rational appeal was going to be no more helpful than threats. He watched silently as the violence was inflicted upon his girlfriend. It was important to him to experience the entire event.

Matt stood terrified not wanting to draw any more attention to himself. He was no stranger to pain or violence, having grown up with a father who was both a boxer and an enforcer for the mob, plus an alcoholic who sometimes got in bar fights. His father had only hit him once, but he hit others and Matt had seen it, heard it. The sound of flesh on flesh chilled him. He couldn’t touch anything, just the floor, and that meant he had no idea about the dimensions of the room, what was around, nothing. The world was, for all intents and purposes, black and blank, just like the cell he had been in with Garrison. He bit his lip as the guards grabbed him, trying not to make a noise and catch their attention any more than he already had.

Megan flinched as she was grabbed, even before her aggressors roughly bent her wings. When a wing creased, she shrieked a little through clenched teeth. Pieces of wing scale flittered onto the floor. It didn’t feel completely ripped - which felt more like fingernails being ripped off - but it was still painful and her black eyes welled up with tears. She didn’t look like a child, especially with no clothes to mitigate her supernatural appearance. Moreau had said she was a thing. Well, this thing hadn’t given up hope yet, pathetic and shrinking at she was. Megan was convinced that being moved was going to be the best chance for escape.

Layla had started to struggle the second she realized Sarah had been picked out of the line. Whatever was going on, Sarah had been picked and she was going to be taken somewhere. Taking Megan, though, that had redoubled her efforts. After a night naked and alone together she couldn’t just let them drag her off. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?” she screamed at them before stopping to think about what a bad idea that likely was. “You think you’re fucking superior? You kidnap people and fucking throw them around and make threats to try to keep people in line? You’re weak. You’re fucking weak if this is all you’ve got. This doesn’t change anything you fat fuck. Everyone will know how fucking weak and pathetic your country is. Everyone.”

“If she opens her mouth again, tell Warden Wittcombe to put her into one of the common cells with the dissents. As she is.” Moreau’s gaze swept her from toes to eyes, if anything underscoring her nudity. “Some of them have been there for years. I’m sure they’d appreciate the company.”

Callie didn’t have the strength (either physical or mental) to fight back against the strong hands that were dragging her away. She stumbled more than a few times as she was being pulled faster than she could get her footing, and each time she was tugged upright again, but not without a few yelps of pain.

First Yvette, then Callie. Fred grunted out something loud and unintelligible before raising his fists, making a small move to the nearest guard to his fists...

“No,” Laurie said, eyes on the guard who would be coming to take her away shortly but attention solely on Fred. “This won’t help, and there’s benefits to what they propose.”

Fred’s teeth were clenched on his cheek almost hard enough to draw blood...but he nodded a little to Laurie, still keeping his eyes trained on his two closest friends, wincing as they were handled, even as he was taken too.

Moreau walked over to the window as the targeted mutants were pulled towards the doors. “Tell Commander Braddock to bring in mutate 17.”

The door opened. Commander Braddock entered taking in the view of the gathered dissidents, in front of her, she marched in Moreau’s requested mutate. She forcibly positioned the prisoner in front of him. Then, she regarded the rest of Xavier’s army, taking in their bare flesh with a cold, removed stare. This is how good would prevail, by wiping the spirit out of them. Oh, how she looked forward to the task. “Here is the requested Mutate, sir. Careful, this one likes to spit.”

“I assume you’ve corrected that?” He was given a tight nod. After all, Mutate 17 was literally the seventeenth mutate they’d ever made, when the process was still not entirely refined. Fortunately, physical correction covered the last gaps in the conditioning. The mutate was a young woman, no older than most of the students. Her eyes held a slightly confused look, as if she didn’t entirely know what to make of the scene in front of her.

“Mutate 17, what is your name?”

“Mutate 17.” She said in a soft voice, and shot a wide-eyed look at Betsy; a child looking to a parent in the hope that she’d given the right answer.

“And before you were a mutant? Who were you?”

“I- I don’t understand.” The confused was now touched with panic. “I am Mutate 17. Captain Norman is Mutate 17’s handler. Captain Norman has alway been Mutate 17’s handler. I obey! I complete my assignments. Please, what are my assignments?” The panic was stretched over something deeper, more fearful - a fathomless terror of not obeying and not completely her tasks to their approval.

“You son of a bitch.” Kane said softly, the words slipping out at the horror of it. He could hear the strains of the midwestern accent in the mutate’s words; Angela Robinson.

“Thank you, Commander.” Moreau said with a nod and turned back to them. “Before the mutate process, she was useless. She could make coloured lights dance or some such nonsense. Now, she can generate a flame hot and tight enough to cut and weld steel. She also knows nothing else but her life here. She put up a fight, just like you did. We’d pay for it, and that we couldn’t do this because she was American and her father would get her. Fighting and crying right up until she went into the pod. Now, if I told her to kill her father, she’d do it without a second thought. Useful, unquestioning, and most importantly, obedient.”

He stepped closer again, almost daring a confrontation. “If I had my way, all of you would be lined up for those pods right now. However, my brother has decided that you’ll be spared, for now. Any resistance, any escape attempts, and you’ll be a number before you can blink. As for your friends, they’ll be safe, even cared for. Unless Magneto decides he wants to make a show of force. In which case, they will be in the front line of our defense. So, anyone else have any bravado left? More threats about what we can’t do, hmm?”

The short burst of sound wasn't a laugh. It was too high and hysterical for that. Marius had managed to remain passive while he'd seen the eight singled out -- something harder to accomplish than it had been when watching as guards struck the others. But upon seeing Mutate 17, his control finally cracked.

The girl's compliance, Moreau's casual reference to the erasure of her identity and alteration of her powers -- memories came flooding back in a rush of bile. The effect was more refined, world's more, but he had seen it before. He had been that before.

Amara, Callie, Megan, Sarah, Fred, Matt, Laurie, Yvette . . .

"They will be in the front line of our defense."

The laugh came again, longer this time.

“I’m glad you find it funny, genetrash. Maybe I should have started with you.” Moreau said, reacting to the shrill laughter against the otherwise silent room.

Cammie had, sometime before, seemed to completely check out mentally. Her swearing, though it had it's various crescendos, seemed to have peaked off and become a mantra. Wherever she was at the moment, it was not the present.

Layla froze. She bit her tongue just enough to make sure she didn't speak, but that left her staring wide-eyed at Marius, the cackling madman. Things were taking a while to sink in here. That girl...she'd been... Blank. Blank and panicked and wanting to please. Was that what Sarah would become? Was that what they were taking her and Megan to turn them into? And Marius...why was Marius laughing like that? It was like he had cracked and suddenly his inner creepy psychopath had decided this was going to be a great time to make an appearance.

The blonde cast a look up at Korvus, who stood between her and the mad laughter, as if to ask if he knew what the fuck was going on with Marius because wasn't this already a little too much crazy anyway?

Korvus nodded to Layla before looking to Marius himself. He shifted ever so slightly to block line of sight between the laughter and Moreau. It would most certainly not be appreciated and their plan was too important to lose. It was the only plan, to his knowledge.

The Australian realised he had buckled, but not from laughter. His knees were shaking. Though he knew he was breathing, the air didn't seem to be filling his lungs.

"Straighten up," someone said. It was a guard. There was no anger in his voice, only a hint of impatience. To this man it was just a job -- a job he only wanted to go smoothly. In a way, that made it worse.

Marius made no reply. Picturing Laurie and Yvette with that lost, blank look in their eyes . . . and realizing that whatever Moreau said, there was no reason for their captors to stop at the eight that had already been taken. None at all.

"Straighten up," the guard repeated, his tone unchanged. He took Marius by the shoulders, and in that moment every muscle in the X-Man's body tensed.

The strike was lightning fast and only Korvus' understanding of the situation and familiarity with the powers Marius was now using allowed him to intercept. The young Indian man's nose exploded into a mass of snot and gore as the punch drove him down to his knees. While he had been prepared from the strength of the other man, in some sense, he was still shocked by the force. His focus was on playing his role and hiding his reaction to the inhuman strength... he had to stay awake. "It's not my fault! We're prisoners. We must comply!" He presented Marius with the plea, playing the role of the inmate collaborator to obscure who the punch was actually meant for.

Marius scarcely noticed the guard going for his weapon behind him. He had nearly begun a second swing before he even registered Korvus had taken the blow. Now he froze, horrified by the damage he'd done.

"Right," Marius croaked. He forced his arm back to his side, every muscle screaming resistance as he did. "You're right." He met the boy's tearing eyes, trying to convey the apology he couldn't seem to get out as adrenaline gave way to a rush of shame. Korvus had barely flinched at Meggan's treatment -- he'd kept his head and refused Moreau the satisfaction. Marius had not.

"We must comply." Korvus repeated, trying to stand before falling back down to his knees due to wobbly legs. He looked down to present a calculated sign of shame, he had to be the traitor for the time. He wanted to convince everyone if he could, the fewer that knew about his plan with Marius, the better.

“Get some additional restraints for laughing boy. And take the rest of them away. Put them with the other prisoners for now.”

Layla gaped at Korvus, someone she had sort of considered a friend, as he played the obedient little dog for their captors. The blood spewing down his face was all the satisfaction she got as her hand clenched into a fist. And then it released as her gaze moved back to the eight that would be taken away. At Sarah being taken away. And she was helpless.

The guards began to separate them, finally shoving them back towards the prison complex. At the door, another guard passed them each a pair of bright orange coveralls and soled slippers, for the first time allowing them to cover their nakedness. It didn’t bring much relief, as behind them, eight of their friends were being turned into creatures; loyal to Genosha. And if Moreau was telling the truth, any rescue attempt would have to come through them. Suddenly, the hope that the X-Men would find a way to get them free was sounding very hollow and unlikely.