Rally Point
Posted on Thu Feb 13th, 2025 @ 12:53am by Connor Bruin & Hayden Davis & Kennedy Kelly & Kayleigh Marshall & Drew Williams & Desmond Greene & Alex Summers
3,580 words; about a 18 minute read
Mission:
Episode 6: X-Fernus Agenda
Location: Resistance HQ | Genosha
Timeline: December 5th, 1990
The transport truck rumbled steadily along the uneven jungle road, its tires kicking up loose dirt as it approached the hidden Resistance base from the southeast. The first hints of dawn crept over the horizon, casting long shadows through the thick canopy and painting the sky in hues of deep orange and violet.
Tucked away in a narrow, carefully excavated draw, the Resistance stronghold was little more than a scar in the earth to the untrained eye. It stretched only two hundred meters in length and half that in width, but its true depth ran far below the surface. Layered defenses had been built into the rock and soil, each level descending deeper into the clandestine redoubt. Tactical mesh dampened the ambient heat and noise signatures of the many bodies within, and a thick cover of jungle foliage concealed the entrance, making it all but impossible to stumble upon without exact coordinates.
Desmond, Hayden, Tandy, and Kennedy were crammed onto the back benches of the truck. They couldn't see the exact approach, but they felt it. The vehicle slowed, stopped, lurched forward again, then stopped once more. Some kind of coded security check, no doubt.
At last, the truck rolled down a sloping ramp, its tires grinding against packed earth and reinforced steel grating as it descended into the dimly lit motor pool. The air here was cool and damp, a stark contrast to the muggy jungle outside. Large, rusted floodlights cast pools of yellowish light across a collection of armored jeeps, dirt bikes, and old but serviceable trucks parked in rough rows along the cavernous walls.
Outside the transport truck, Victor Creed was hopping out of the cab and waiting for them.
Standing near a battered workbench, he pulled off his bloodstained shirt in one rough motion, the fabric peeling away from his skin where it had stuck to dried gore. With a low grunt, he used the ruined cloth to wipe the crusted filth from his face before tossing it aside. His golden eyes flicked over the group with grim approval.
"Not my finest work," he admitted gruffly, rolling his shoulders. "Hell, it was amateur hour out there. But we didn't have the luxury of a better plan." He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "We only just got word you X-Men had been grabbed. If we'd waited any longer, you'd have been split up, shipped off to different black sites, and we’d never see you again."
John Proudstar finished handing off the transport truck to the mechanics and turned to meet them. His 6'1 height looked dwarfish next to the 6 and a half foot Victor Creed, but his Apache warrior spirit matched the Resistance leader's tenacity. His gaze hardened, locking onto each of them in turn. "You're here now. That's what matters. Every rescue adds to our numbers, then we go out and rescue more."
“Thank you for getting us out of there.” Kennedy replied as she climbed out of the back of the truck. Despite being forced to shower at the camp she was already dirty again, the explosions she had created attempting to ruin the facilities at the camp created a lot of dust and debris. Combined with the humidity and sweat of the jungle she was grubby in her yellow jumpsuit. But she was happy that the rebel leaders were already talking about going back and getting more people. While the past day in Genosha had been terrible, Kennedy still had fight left in her. “If you can get me a bow and arrows, I can do a lot more. My name is Kennedy, codename Artemis.”
"Archer, huh?" Proudstar sized Kennedy up, noting the dirt and sweat caked onto her skin, the fire still burning in her eyes. She wasn’t broken—not yet, and that was good. He gave a firm nod of approval. "A clean, quiet shot from a bow can save a lot of trouble. I like that." He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders as he glanced toward the armory. "Me, I prefer an assault rifle—less room for error, more room for lead. But if a bow's what you need..."
He turned his head, barking toward the armory attendant. "Hey, Potts. Get her a bow and a full quiver."
The attendant nodded and jogged off. Proudstar folded his arms, giving Kennedy another once-over. "You got fight left in you. Good. We’re not done yet."
"Yeah, thanks for that," said Hayden. The helicopter had kicked up a lot of dirt for sure. She wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her uniform. "My name is Hayden, Calypso otherwise. I'm not good with firearms or arrows. But a jungle full of humidity is my element."
"I'm Desmond... Desmond Greene. I'm not an X-Men or something. But there are little kids in those camps, and I want to get them out. Can I help?" Desmond started feeling more connected to his body again. He felt like his strength had returned, and the torn and broken parts of his skin were already patched up again. "I'm pretty strong, pretty durable too."
"Don't you worry, you'll earn your keep," Proudstar said.
Out in the jungle, the stolen Magistrate truck rumbled along the rugged dirt road, its tires grinding over loose gravel as it cut through the thick Genoshan jungle. Inside the cab, Alex Summers kept one hand on the wheel while the other drummed a restless beat against the shifter. He had already ripped out the Lo-Jack transmitter back at the tram depot, but that didn't mean they were in the clear.
"We're pulling off up here," Alex said, pointing at another river crossing. "No way in hell are we leading a tracking party straight to HQ."
Kayleigh nodded, she could see the sense in what Alex was saying.
Drew quietly nodded as he prepared to disembark the truck. He wasn't entirely sure who these rescuers were, but he was grateful, especially after the ordeal in the Machine.
Dappled shadows over the road obscured the riverside. Everyone got out as instructed, at which point Alex blasted the dirt bank and let the truck fall into the river. The current carried it away.
Looking around at their current predicament, Connor signed, "WILL WE HAVE TO WALK FAR?"
Alex grinned, shaking his head. "No need."
As if on cue, figures emerged from the underbrush, rifles raised, faces obscured by camouflage gear and tactical masks. The Resistance patrol had found them.
Alex calmly raised his hands in surrender. "Go on," he said to the others. "They're friendly. They just have to make sure we are too."
Kay offered a polite smile, holding up her hands briefly to show she was unarmed. Not that the gesture meant a lot coming from a mutant with her abilities, she didn't need a weapon to be dangerous. "We're friendly, we're the good guys."
Drew followed Kayleigh's lead in holding out his arms. He didn't say anything though.
A tense beat passed before one of the rebels stepped forward, recognizing Alex. "Havok," the soldier greeted, lowering his weapon slightly. His eyes flicked toward the unfamiliar faces of Connor, Drew, and Kayleigh. "These the X-Men?"
Alex nodded. "Yeah. And we could use a lift."
The rebel gave a sharp whistle, signaling to the others. Within moments, a second vehicle—a beat-up but sturdy transport truck—pulled onto the road. The patrol quickly ushered them aboard, weapons still at the ready in case of pursuit.
As they rolled into the underground motor pool, they were greeted by the others who had arrived with Victor.
"Welcome to the Resistance," Alex said to Connor, Drew, and Kayleigh as he exited the truck.
Victor approached Alex, staring down at the younger man for half a second before he broke into a fanged grin. "Good work, you little bastard!" The two men fell into a warrior's embrace before parting and assessing the others. A quick head count told him there were others left behind. "Looks like we have more work to do though."
Looking around Kayleigh was glad they were free, she had visions of being a lab rat for the rest of her days. "This place is amazing, you've done an incredible job here."
Drew didn't see Maeve or Kurt which surprised him. If anything, Kurt was the one person who should have been able to make a getaway with his teleportation abilities. He recognized Tandy as one of the two people who had walked in on him in the music room. He turned to Connor. "We need to come up with a plan, one that not just gets our people back...," Drew glanced about at the faces of the others Victor had rescued, "...but everyone being held." He had an expression that only an X-Men would have when fellow mutants were in danger. "A plan that shuts down the bastard who has done this too."
“It’s good to see you guys,” Kennedy said as she approached, “We lost Kurt and Maeve during our escape, they’ve been taken to someplace called ‘The Flesh Factory’. Which sounds pretty awful.”
Replying to both Drew and Kennedy, Connor gave them both a nod while his speech-generating device caught up with his signing hands.
"WE JUST ESCAPED FROM THERE AND WERE ALREADY PLANNING TO GO BACK BECAUSE WE SAW TY HELD CAPTIVE. WITH OTHERS CAPTURED, TOO, THEN WE HAVE NO CHOICE. WE MUST GET BACK TO THAT FACTORY."
A mixture of hope and horror came across Tandy’s face at the revelation that Ty was alive still but also that he was in the worst place possible on this entire island. Sitting down on a makeshift bench she cried a few silent tears over her missing partner.
The blonde paused for a moment as she stared at the man who had brought Drew, Connor, and Kaleigh in. It took her a few minutes to recognize his face from the photographs scattered across the X-Mansion. “Are you - Alex Summers?” Kennedy asked as she continued to look him over. He was younger in a lot of the pictures she had seen but the more she looked at him the more confident she was that he was in fact the missing member of the First Class. “They have been trying to find you.”
Alex arched a brow at Kennedy’s realization, then flashed his best grin—charming, confident, with just the right amount of cocky. "Guilty as charged," he said smoothly, giving her a little mock salute.
At the mention of his old team, though, Alex sobered a bit. "Glad to hear the rest of the guys made it off that island," he admitted. "I haven't seen or heard from them since... well." He paused, rolling his shoulders to shake off the heavy feeling of time best forgotten. "Truth is, I don't remember much of what happened before I got to Genosha. Just that one day I woke up in a labor camp with a collar around my neck and no way out."
His usual easygoing demeanor dimmed for just a moment, but then he gave a half-smirk and gestured toward Victor. "That was until this lunatic decided to start a resistance movement a couple months back and busted me loose. Been helping out ever since. Thought maybe—maybe—we could get word to the outside world, but so far, we’ve been stuck with guerrilla tactics, picking at the edges while they tighten the noose."
Alex exhaled, glancing around at the ragtag group of X-Men standing before him. A bunch of fresh faces, younger than he expected—but still X-Men. His smirk turned more resolved. "But now you guys are here. And that means, for the first time in a long time... we might actually have a shot at turning the tide."
Hayden was happy to see the others in one piece, based on this Flesh Factory place. She'd never seen Alex's pictures before, but then again, she'd never really bothered to look at the pictures around the mansion. So she was thankful that Kennedy knew who he was. "It's nice to meet the new guys and to see everyone else. But yeah, let's turn this tide and get Kurt and Maeve and the others back."
“Aren’t you going to ask about them?” Kennedy’s brow furrowed as Alex was gracious but strangely impersonable. While her time with the First Class was limited she knew enough about them to know about their dynamics. Everyone else was focused on the matter at hand but Kennedy had a hard time accepting the flash of charm Alex had shown as being satisfactory for her concerns. “What about your brother?” She thought about her relationship conversations with Bobby and his lost love and heartache for Lorna. “Aren’t you going to ask about her?”
Alex's smirk faltered at Kennedy's question, his easygoing charm slipping like a mask that had cracked under sudden, unbearable weight. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and for a brief moment, the younger X-Men saw something raw flicker behind his eyes—grief, longing, maybe even guilt. He took a slow breath, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides.
"There's probably... a lot to tell," he admitted, his voice quieter now, more measured. He looked away for a moment, inhaling sharply before forcing himself back to the present. "And I was hoping to have that conversation more privately rather than... right here, right now."
"I...just... if people loved me and cared about me, I would want to know about them..." Kennedy's voice became small and sheepish as she hugged herself in an act of self preservation. The awkward interaction seemed to strike a nerve in both of them.
No one moved or said anything at first. The weight of what was left unsaid hung heavy in the humid jungle air.
Connor, ever the pragmatist, raised his hands and signed in emphatic, deliberate movements: "MUCH HAS INDEED HAPPENED. ENTIRE TEAM COMPOSITION CHANGED OVER THE LAST SIX MONTHS. PROFESSOR X RAISED ME TO TEAM LEADER."
Alex blinked at that, his grief temporarily derailed by sheer surprise. His lips tugged into something almost like a grin, though his eyes were still clouded. "No shit? You, team leader?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Damn, man. Guess you really stepped up your game."
Connor nodded once, his expression serious as he signed again. "YES. I HAVE PUT IT BEFORE EVERYTHING ELSE."
Alex's grin faded into something softer, more thoughtful. He clapped Connor on the shoulder, a silent acknowledgment between them. "Yeah," he said, his voice quieter now. "I bet you did, buddy."
Drew looked between Alex, Connor and Victor. "So what is the best method to get a team into the Flesh Factory without being detected?"
“I wish we had Enigma here now, we could have used her telepathy, we’re going to need one heck of a distraction.” Kayleigh paused. “Is there a specific depot where they keep their fuel supplies? I can use my abilities to make it nice and toasty” she smiled a wry smile.
"We don't have any telepaths available, especially with whatever equipment they have set up here to keep Xavier out. Who knows if she could even do anything on this island." Kennedy sighed, the sound was a mixture of annoyance and contemplation. The problem was they were a small group against an entire government that had set themselves up to suppress and eliminate any and all mutant threats. "It's their numbers that make this so hard... Alex was able to get in and out of the Flesh Factory without too much trouble so that part isn't the problem. Now that we have our abilities back and we've seen the weather manipulating mutant we shouldn't be caught off guard by her again. It's the sheer number of Magistrate that makes the task challenging, they would overwhelm us in no time. Is there anyway that we can stop them from getting into the Flesh Factory once we're inside? it's impossible to take the whole city but if we can get in and keep them out, we might be able to hold our ground in a strategic location. How do the Magistrate move across the island and the city?"
Drew looked at Alex and Victor. "It would be helpful if you guys had some sort of diagram of the facility to plan the attack. I don't remember much of the route from the labs to the detention area after being in the Machine. I was trying not to toss my cookies."
Standing at the back of crowds never really seemed an issue for Desmond. Not since he had puberty. Being as tall as he was meant he could reach and see over just about anyone around him. So when he spoke from the back of this particular gathering, he still drew everyone's attention. In answer to Kennedy's question, "They got a whole train network across the island. They're constantly shuffling guards in and out of the Factory. I've seen it happen when I was kept inside."
"Way ahead of ya, boys and girls," Victor said with a gruff laugh of approval that made his savage eyes gleam. "Just you wait. I got shit to look over but we'll talk more later." He nodded at Alex. "How about Havok here show you around, get you a bunk?"
Alex let out a short breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at the group. "Guess that makes me your unofficial tour guide," he said, his voice carrying an easy, if restrained, charm. "Not exactly a five-star resort, but hey, it beats a cell in the Flesh Factory."
He turned on his heel, leading them toward a vertical shaft with a set of ladders and slide poles. He grabbed onto one of the rungs and looked back over his shoulder. “Lifts are for cargo. If you want to get anywhere, you climb.” Without waiting for a response, he pulled himself up with practiced efficiency, landing smoothly on the next level. He reached down, offering a steadying hand to anyone who needed it before continuing forward.
At the top, Alex motioned toward a narrow corridor. "This is it," he said simply, stepping aside so they could take in their surroundings.
The space on that level was functional at best—triple-stacked bunks lined one end, while a long table filled the opposite side where rebels sat hunched over meals or mission plans. Further down, there were sinks, a few showers that had clearly seen better days, and a pile of gear and supplies shoved into whatever spare corners were available. It smelled like sheet metal, old sweat, and something vaguely resembling food.
Alex turned back to the group, folding his arms across his chest. "There's storage and other spaces on other levels, but this is where people are who aren't on a job. You’ve got bunks, rations, and a roof over your head. It's not luxury, but it’s safe," he said, his tone matter-of-fact though he held a faint smirk. "That’s more than most people on this island ever get." He held their gazes for a moment before adding, "Go on and settle in. Clean up, catch a few winks. After that, I'm sure we'll have intel for the next stage." A small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "And fair warning—if you snore, you're getting reassigned to the generator room."
Kayleigh couldn’t help but grin at that comment as she headed across to the furthest empty bunk she could get. She preferred to be where she could settle more easily, not that she expected to get much sleep anyway.
Drew, in typical fashion made his way to the chow line and got a slice of bread and a small bowl of thin stew. He then took a seat at one the picnic table setups and ate quietly before finding an unoccupied bunk and laying down to rest. He looked up and wondered what would happen next.
Kennedy examined her neck in the utilitarian mirror just outside the bathroom, the finger impressions from being choked while she was unconscious were turning a deep purple in color and were much more visible now that their suppression collars had been removed. Whoever had done it knew how to hide their marks so they wouldn’t get caught for the additional violence they administered. She realized she hated this place more than the Savage Land. Genosha treated mutants like things not people, it was a place where you were exploited, torture and killed for another's benefit. That thought created a buzz of adrenaline inside of her, a call and a desire to stop these atrocities and sleep became a distant need.
“I’m going to find something other than a slave’s jumpsuit to wear before taking a shower. I’d like to look through your weapons and see if I can find something to use.” Kennedy’s throat still hurt but she had managed to push through and find her voice again.
"The armory is on the top level," Alex says, nodding up the ladder they had exited. "Check with Victor or John before you go poking around there though. They're a little sensitive about that area."
"I AM READY TO EAT," Connor signed to everyone else, "AND I AM DONE WAITING."
The team dispersed through the living area in search of whatever creature comfort they wanted to satisfy first.
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