Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Marvel comics and are being used
without their permission. No profit is being made off of this story. If you
want to sue us go ahead. We will gladly bounce a check to you.

Here it is! Our first attempt at fan-fiction. We are just beginning to lay
the groundwork in this part. The action will start to pick up in two or
three parts so please hang in there while the subplots we're are trying to
put in begin to run their course. Everything that happened up to Creed's
assassination has occurred with the exception of: the latest bunch of minis
(ie Magneto, Domino, Apocalypse, etc) and the latest issues of X-Force that
explained Shatterstar's past.

Feel free to post this anywhere but please do not change the contents and if
you chose to do so, let me know so I can visit your web site.
Comments? Suggestions? e-mail to skruse@snd10.med.navy.mil
They would be greatly appreciated and I promise to respond to all of them.


by Scott Kruse and Rob Alarcon

Part 1:


     A stunned silence worked its way through the crowd. Only seconds ago,
where presidential candidate and active FOH member, Graydon Creed stood, a
bright burst, distinctly mutagenic in nature, blinded half the assembled
crowd. After most everyone's eyes readjusted, the only thing left to give
evidence that he had stood there was a smoking pile of ash.
     The members of X-Factor immediately leapt into action but none had the
power to turn back the hands of time to prevent the casualty. Forge scanned
the crowd for any sign of the fleeing perpetrator but it was impossible to
make anybody out amongst the hundreds of wide-eyed spectators. Pyro had been
brought forward and Mystique, a prime suspect, was already apprehended
before it took place. Forge looked to his teammates, hoping one of them
might pick up something the others didn't, but they were no-better of than
him. Even Sabretooth and Wild Child, whose sense were beyond the norm,
looked defeated.
     "We need to leave," Polaris said, trying to be heard above the
crescendoing roar from the crowd, "before everyone comes back to their
senses and realize a mutant killed Creed. We could be forced into something
we don't want to be involved in."
     Forge nodded. "Let's go," he said, pushing aside the back stage curtain
for the others to pass through.
     With the anti-mutant hysteria Creed was campaigning on and now his
sudden death by a mutant,  martyring him, the hatred towards homosuperior
could only escalate. X-Factor had now created their biggest failure.


     Scott Summers, current head of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters,
sat beside his wife, Jean, with the television recounting the latest steps
towards cancer treatment on CNN. Both were sharing a bowl of Chex Mix, when
the story was cut off just before finishing. 
     A young female newscaster, with the latest trendy short hair cut, held
a microphone and was speaking without any sound emitting from the
television. Behind her, a mass of people were shoving each other or running
in every other direction. She was jostled twice and nearly fell before the
sound technician fixed the problem. She looked up and seemed to register a
hidden signal. "I'm standing at the latest campaign stop for Graydon Creed,
where hundreds of people came to witness the speech that might have put him
ahead in the polls," she began. "However, that has all come to a disastrous
halt. Creed, in front of millions of viewers was just brutally assassinated
by a lethal burst from a mutant hiding within the crowd. Nobody has been
taken into custody, but everyone presents seems to want to be the one to
bring in Creed's killer. Accusations have been flying around by nearly
everyone here, causing numerous scuffles. I have no numbers of the injured
already. Police are trying to bring some semblance of peace to the riot but
all efforts so far have been futile.
     "X-factor had been at the scene but can no longer be found. Nobody has
claim-" The newscaster was abruptly pushed forward, knocking her
unceremoniously to the ground, by an unkept, bearded man. He snatched the
microphone from the dazed woman.
     "First you kill off the Avengers and the Fantastic Four," he screamed
into the microphone. "What's next? The children from our homes. Don't you
have any-" A large bruiser type man emerged from the side of the screen just
before the broadcast was cut off by a test pattern and then some commercials.
     "Scott," Jean said, placing her hand on her husband's arm that was
seemly stuck half way from the bowl to his mouth.
     He turned to face his wife, his expression grave. "Jean, please call
all the Xmen currently in the mansion to the War Room. I think we're going
to need to make some radical and immediate changes."
     Scott stood up and left his wife sitting on the couch alone. 'Radical
and immediate changes' were the only words that ran through her mind. Even
her enormous telepathic powers, coupled with the psychic bond she shared
with her husband, didn't give her a hint to what Scott was talking about.
Since the first time they forged their psychic rapport, his mind was closed
to her.
     "Scott," Jean yelled, chasing after her husband who was sprinting
towards the War Room. "Wait up. I need to tell you something!"
     "Jean, I have a lot of things to do before everyone gathers. Can't this
wait until later." Despite his words, Cyclops stopped to wait for his wife
to catch up to him in the hallway.
     Suddenly Elizabeth Braddock, the Asian/English telepath Psylocke,
shadow walked directly in front of them. Scott nearly blasted her with his
optic blasts but thankfully held back. The power she had developed was going
to take a considerable amount of time to get used to, especially if she
continued to use to startle her friends.       
    Her body glistened with sweat from her obviously rigorous workout she
just concluded. "Hi Scott... Hello Jean," she said heading in the opposite
direction. When she brushed by Jean, she stopped, turned and flashed a
seductive grin. "Well it looks as if we'll be adding another member to the
team soon, Jean."
     "What," Scott asked but Betsy was already around the corner before she
could answer. Instead he turned the question to Jean. "What was she talking
about?"
     "Scott, there's something I needed to tell you but with all the
pressure you've been under lately as headmaster, I've kept it from you. Now
it looks as if I've run out of time."
     The look he gave his wife was of true bewilderment, so she knew she had
to come right out and say it. "Scott... I'm pregnant."
     Despite years of the worlds most intensive training of balance,
coordination and maintaining composure, Cyclops collapsed to one knee.
Regaining his wits, he managed to unsteadily raise to his normal stance.
Jean was at a loss what to do. Whether being struck down by Apocalypse,
attacked by Magneto, ambushed by Sabretooth, or cornered by Sinister,
Cyclops had always managed to maintain control of his actions.
     Suddenly he burst out laughing. "You know Jean, I love you and for the
first time in a while I really feel like everything's going to be all right.
Now I really know what needs to be done." He gave her a quick kiss to the
cheek and jogged down the corridor again. "Now call the X- Men to the War
Room," he called as he rounded the corner with a slight smile on his face.
     It was hardly the reaction Jean had expected, even if he had been
through this before. Tears swelled to her eyes as she realized yet again why
she loved her husband.
      


     Gambit and Bishop were sparing with pugel sticks in the Danger Room
when Jean's telepathic message rang out. <*X-Men. Your prepense is requested
in the War Room immediately.*>
     Gambit, momentarily distracted, was hit in the head by a sharp
backhanded swing. The foam padding was the only thing that prevented his
head from being torn from his body. He spun almost completely around and
nearly toppled over in the process. "Hey, homme," he said, shifting his jaw
back and forth to ensure everything was in working order. "Don' you t'ink
dat was a little uncalled for?"
     The tattooed M on Bishop's face narrowed slightly. "Do you think for
one moment that any of our numerous enemies would spare the time to allow
you to regain your composure if you were suddenly distracted?"
     "Where you always dis way Bish?"
     "In my time one must always be prepared."
     "Anyway. Let's go see what emergency has sprung up now."
     Both men tossed their weapons aside and were instantly dematerialized
by the amazing Shi'ar technology.


    

     <*Hank. Are you planning on joining us anytime soon? We are waiting on
you, Gambit and Bishop*>
     Beast mumbled some incomprehensible reply. With one furry finger, he
pushed his glasses higher up on his nose. "Hmmm," he said studying several
test tubes ranging in dark red to light brown. Logan's name was printed on
each and contained various concentrations of his blood serum. He picked up
the rack of tubes and placed them in a chamber with two gloves sticking
through holes below the glass window. A sealed tube was already present and
stood upright in a rack of it's own. Numerous caution labels were printed on
it's surface, but the most frightening was the two simple but deadly words:
Legacy Virus.
     Beast sealed the air tight chamber and placed his glasses on one of the
cluttered desks. "Better go find out what is of utmost concern," he said,
adjusting his lab coat.


     Gambit and Bishop entered the War Room and Cyclops glared at them
behind his ruby quartz glasses. "Now that everybody is here..."
     Taking the hint Gambit noticed the empty seat next to Rogue. He flashed
her a grin to which her only reply was, "You're late."
     Aghast, Gambit's mouth dropped open and shut immediately after noticing
Joseph occupying the other seat next to her.
     "My fellow X-Men. In Xavier's absence, I've come to a decision. We are
going to move the mansion."
      "Move the mansion? Isn't that a bit extreme bossman," barked Wolverine
through the dense haze of smoke from his cigar.
     Situated around the War Room conference table was a collection of the
most powerful mutants. The former Master of Magnetism Magneto, now referred
to as Joseph, Storm, field leader of the Gold team, Wolverine, the best
there is at what he does, Beast, physically enhanced geneticist, the
enigmatic thief Gambit, the lovely and immensely powerful Rogue, the
telepath ninja Psylocke, the high flying Angel, and the world's most
powerful telepath Phoenix.
     Adorning the walls of the War Room were monitors depicting the current
readiness states of multiple countries and red lights indicating known
mutant locations. A large tear drop shaped holographic image inducer hung
above the center of the table. Upon vocal command it could produce multiple
three dimensional images. It's most recent use was to replay Danger Room
sequences to point out flaws or worthy moves the    X-Men may have done.
     "I'd have to concur with my comrade in arms, even though I adamantly
disagree with his choice of air refresheners," Beast stated as he wave a
cloud of smoke away from his furred face. "The facilities and technology in
our current abode make it an ideal place for our continual habitancy. Not to
mention that it has a certain ambience that I seem to find appealing."
     "I agree that this is defiantly the type of place we need to live in
but unfortunately recent events have occurred that make it impossible to
continue to work out of the mansion. Too many of our numerous enemies know
where we are located and I will not put my team at any further risk. As of
right now the X-Men's  first priority is to find a place to relocate to.
Preferably it should provide access to all the major cities, allow for a
defensible position, and most importantly be a place we can call home."
     For the first time since the meeting started Jean finally noticed the
tension escape the room. After hearing about Creed's assassination everyone
had expected some grim lecture followed by a mission but Cyclop's had
clearly called them to begin healing the many wounds that had developed on
the team.
     "The second thing I'd like to address is the new structuring of the
teams will undergo. Along with myself, Jean is going off active duty.
Something she said to me today made me realize that the two of us working at
home, like the Professor used to, will work better for the overall unity of
the teams. With recent injuries and missions in progress we're going to need
to regroup back to one larger team headed by Storm in the field."
     "It would be an honor and a pleasure," replied the weather goddess.
     "So Jeanie, this new desk job wouldn't have anything to do with a
certain secret you've been keeping from us," asked Wolverine. He grinned
knowingly and took and long puff of his cigar. The grin became toothy and he
exhaled in Beasts general direction.
     "I guess it's hard keeping a secret amongst telepaths and mutant
sniffers. Scott and I are going to have a baby."
     "So chere, is ol' one-eye de happy father," he asked smiling at his own
joke that he received a slap in the arm from Rogue for.
     During the flood of congratulations and hand shaking, Wolverine stepped
out and returned momentarily with several bottles of change. "I think a
toast is in order," he bellowed above the commotion that was getting louder
by the moment. When everyone had settled down and managed to pour themselves
a glass of champagne, with the exception of Jean, he began. "To the Summers
family. May all their children grow up to be as great as their parents and
have the stunning good looks of their uncle Logan." 
     Glasses were raised slowly, in jest of Wolverine's biased toast.
     For the first time since the Onslaught debacle, the team felt like a
family again.