Para Bellum

Posted on Sun May 23rd, 2021 @ 6:10pm by Charles Xavier & Scott Summers
Edited on on Sun May 23rd, 2021 @ 7:27pm

745 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Episode 1: X-Odus
Location: Recovery Room 1 | Trauma Center, Subbasement 1 | X-Mansion
Timeline: June 22, 1990

Fighting. Pain. Flying. Blasting. Anger.

Scott couldn't see anything, but he felt trapped. Bound by something. He fought against his restraints, pushed against the darkness. He was drowning. Something was smothering him. One word formed on his lips.

"JEAN!" he shouted.

~Be still, Scott~

Xavier's voice filled his mind, pushing away the panic with the promise of peace.

~I am en route~

"Where am I?!" Scott called out, still blind and bound.

~You are in the mansion's trauma center below ground. I would have sit vigil with you, but I have been busy attending... other matters~

"Too busy to let me out of here?!"

"I am here now," Charles said, having entered the room. "Close your eyes."

Scott complied as he felt the headwrap unwind from around his face and his ruby-quartz glasses set in their place. Only then were his restraints released.

"There," Charles said.

Opening his eyes, Scott beheld Professor Xavier in the crimson hue that he had known for the better part of a decade. This man had found him in the orphanage when his powers first manifested, taken him into his home as a surrogate father even before the School had been formalized as a learning institution. As Xavier's first student, Scott knew he would always hold a special place in the professor's heart.

Right now, laying in this hospital bed while his friends were who knows where, that just didn't seem good enough.

"Where are they?" Scott asked.

Charles gave him a pensive stare before responding. "I was hoping that you could tell me that," he said at length.

"You mean you haven't probed my mind?" Scott asked, his tone slightly aggressive.

"No," the professor said. "You needed to rest, and any probing on my part could have hindered that."

Too many words and no answers began to rile Scott. "If you don't know where they are, then we need to go look for them." He began pulling off the tape that held monitoring wires to his body.

"I may not know where the others are, but it is not for want of searching," Charles said. "The flight logs, mission logs, even Cerebro... all of them have no trace of what led to yesterday. Now, I am not without recourse. When you have recovered, then we will discuss options. But for now, you must allow the auto-doc to do its work."

"And the others?" Scott asked. "Jean? Alex? Bobby?"

"And Hank and Warren and Lorna," Charles said, finishing their names. "You cannot help them until you first help yourself. That is why you were brought here in the first place. Mastery of ourselves is the first step to overcoming any obstacle."

Scott let out a heavy scoff. "We were brought here to be soldiers in your private war."

"No," the professor said with a shake of his head. "You were invited to participate and promote a new age of peace."

"Funny how we always seem to end up doing the other thing," Scott quipped acerbically.

"Si vis pacem, para bellum," the professor replied. "If you wish for peace, then you must prepare for war. You are not helpless, Scott. But we are in a position of needing help. If we are to rescue our friends, then we need to make new allies. I will have details ready for when you're back on your feet. We will find help. We will find clues. We will find them. This I vow."

Though he had sworn to never control his X-Men, the words spoken from the professor bore the weight of his psychic endowment. Scott could argue, but it was pointless. Being petulant wasn't going to help anyone. He knew that. Restlessness was his enemy now. Whatever had happened, he and the professor needed to work together.

"Okay, Professor. We'll do this your way." It wasn't as if Scott had any other ideas himself. Without the Professor's resources, he was just one man. Rebuilding a team seemed like giving up. But if it led to reuniting with the others and saving Jean, then Scott would build Xavier an army. He just might not be part of it. "Just like you taught me."

Xavier regarded him with a knowing glance. Post-adolescence had done little to purge the passion and vigor of youth from the elder Summers brother. But at least his tactical leadership had reasserted itself. For that much, Charles was grateful. For now, it would have to do.

"Until tomorrow, then."

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