Stargazing - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Cat Smith
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 7

Dark metal gun gleamed in the dim, yellow light of the small, claustrophobic bedroom.A cream cloth skimmed silently over the gun, then Bishop marvelled at his handiwork. His dark eyes narrowed as he scrutinised every detail of the gun, from the silencer attachment, to the latticed grip. The monotony of the action meant that Bishop didn't have to think, which was a good thing, because he knew that what he was doing was wrong.

Rubbing an imaginary and stubborn speck of dust from his gun, he kept his consciousness from going berserk and overwhelming him. It was wrong... people were going to die... it was his duty to stop this... as an XSE officer... as an X-Man. Baring his teeth, Bishop stood, barely controlling his temper, and started stalking around the room. Why did he have to make this choice!? He loved Deathbird, yet what she was doing was wrong. Why wouldn't she see that!? With a shake of his head, Bishop decided that, for one more time, he would try and make her see the light.

The bridge of the Kythrida was lit up by the stars that it passed, with their majestical and awing beauty. The bridge itself was a cold, emotionless place, and all of the crew were held together only by their zealous devotion to their leader.

Deathbird surveyed the stars in front of her. At cruising speed, they were several days away from Chandilar, their target. On the way were several unimportant systems, but Deathbird was quietly confident that none of them would try to stop them. For, she knew, they would only attack if the Majestrix ordered them to, and Deathbird had no illusions about her sisters plan of defence -- when the Kythrida reached Chandilar, _that_ was when she would retaliate, due to their small fleet. With a cold smile, Deathbird rejoiced - she was assured of victory. What could stop her now?

The small fighter ship looked like plankton next to the Kythrida. But that was the least of Remy's worries right now. Not only was the behemoth ridiculously weaponed, he could see from the scans he was taking that the shielding, indeed, the Kythrida's _own_ scanners were more than enough to overcome of Lilandra's finest ships. Their only hope was that the information gathered on this mission would be able to compensate for the death-on-wings in front of him. He looked over at Carol, her long blonde hair flowing down her shoulders.

"Well, chere, whaddaya t'ink? We in trouble?"

With a ragged sigh she nodded. "Oh yeah. With a capital 'T'."

Remy nodded. That was exactly the answer he'd expected. "Well... we've got outta worse scrapes before, right? I mean, Logan tole me all kinds a troubles dat you an' he had got into."

Lifting the visor on her helmet, Carol rubbed her eyes, then stared blankly at the panel in front of her. Worse scrapes. Perhaps a few, since she had joined the Starjammers. But not with Logan. Nothing on Earth was equal to the fear, the vulnerability one felt when they were out in this massive black void that was humorously referred to as 'space'. On Earth, if you screamed, someone might come and help you. If you were lucky. But in space... no-one can hear you scream. And that was scary -- it showed you just how significant you were. Kinda like when her dad had taken her into the Rockies as a kid. That had been scary, with the landscape being so _big_ and intimidating... but nothing compared to this.

*But, hey, I'm a trooper, right? I can get out of this.*

"You got everything we need, Gambit."

"Nothing de machines can't handle. What's up?"

Carol stared out at the stars again. "I don't know. Nothing. Everything..."

Subconsciously, her brain changed gears. It didn't want to think about this any more. It was way too frightening... "Rogue must have meant alot to you."

Remy froze, in the middle of setting a internal heat-scan, to find out how many occupants were on the ship. That was the last thing he had expected her to mention. Well, she deserved an answer. "Uh, oui."

"Is that it?"

Scowling, Remy looked at her sternly. "What more d' y' want t' know? Dat we were lovers? Dat she dumped me in de middle o' Antarctica? She broke m' heart, Carol. An' t'ing else y' need t' know?"

Shocked at both his bitter tone, and the words, Carol bit back an answer. She didn't need to know anything more, and Remy'd already told her more than was her business. She wasn't even sure why she'd asked the question in the first place. She'd just been curious as to how the thief of her soul was. And it seemed she wasn't too well. If Carol had a chance with someone like Remy, especially given Rogue's track record, she would've done everything she could to keep him. But, she mused, that was where she and Rogue differed...

The turbolift always sent Bishops stomach hurtling towards his feet. It was pretty uncomfortable, but he was slowly getting used to it. He stepped out onto the bridge, built for intimidation with it's high ceilings and faraway walls, and unconsciously hunched his shoulders. When he realised what he was doing, however, he stopped. He'd need all his strength to try and get thru to Deathbird without caving in to her.

Seeing her sat at the most focal point of the bridge, she sat, legs crossed, staring intently at the window in front of her showing nothing but empty space, as far as Bishop could see. He let himself muse for a moment on what she could be seeing, then realised he was merely trying to put off the inevitable shouting match that came with him trying to argue against her ideas. Taking a deep breath, he walked up to her.

"Deathbird?"

Without sparing him a glance, she nodded for him to continue. Raising an eyebrow at her intensity at matt black with white dots, he cleared his throat and made himself continue, standing to attention.

"Again, I feel I must argue against your plan of action. Surely it isn't feasible to attack the Empire now, when it is at it's weakest. It surely makes more sense to take it when it is once again strong, and we shall share in that strength!"

_That_ made Deathbird turn her head! She gazed at him incredulously, unable to understand what he was saying. It _sounded_ like he was saying they should attack Lilandra when her power and her fleet's was at it's greatest -- that was nothing short of insane! She said as much to him.

Bishop blinked his dark brown eyes at that, realising it wasn't the best argument he could have come up with. He attempted again, with a much better one, in a firmer tone; "What about your people?"

Deathbird had turned back to the screen. "What people?" She asked, her voice taking on an edge that told him he was grating on her nerves.

"_Your_ people -- the Shi'ar. They are at a great difficulty, yet many of them will still fight for Lilandra with all their troubles. If you win, at what cost? What use is an Empire without it's people?" This last was said softly, to take the gloomy edge off his words. It wasn't needed.

The purple-feathered Shi'ar warrior rolled her milky white eyes, and frowning in annoyance, turned again to Bishop. Deep down, though only there, she would admit she cared and respected Bishop a great deal, and yet at times he was so arrogant it thoroughly irritated every fibre of her being! Turning towards him one last time, anger clearly visible on her face, making several members of her crew wary, and ready to duck behind their consoles, she spoke to the big man slowly, as if speaking to a very small, very stupid child.

"I want the Empire because it belongs to me. It will be better under my care. If people die during my takeover, they can be happy that they died making their world a better place." With that, she swivelled her chair back, and obstinately stared at the screen, ignoring anything that came from Bishop's mouth. Damn him, he had made her lose sight of the thing that had been worrying her -- a slight disturbance in the stars, similar to the one that a cloaking device made. She wasn't sure, and was about to check it with the scanner before Bishop had walked in. Now she had to search for it again. For a good five minutes she looked, before spotting it again. After a few seconds observation, she stood, gathering her purple cloak around her.

"Lieutenant!" Barked Deathbird, walking over to where the half terrified young Kree stood, wide-eyed. "Shoot down that ship!" The Kree's eyes flashed to the screen, then back at Deathbird.

"S-sh-ship?" He asked, his voice, like him, quivering in fear.

"Yes! There! There!" She exclaimed verbosely, pointing repeatedly at a certain patch of stars. The Kree didn't see anything. He only looked at her, shaking. Baring her teeth, and making a low, growling sound like a demon-bird, she pushed him out of the way, knocking him to the floor with her considerable strength, she started jabbing at the console, ready to shoot the ship down.

Bishop's eyes widened as he saw what Deathbird had been referring to. A small area of stars was slightly blurry. If that was a cloaked ship, the cloak was far superior to any he had seen. And if it was a cloaked ship, he'd find out what they wanted!

Hitting the last key necessary to blow the ship out of the sky, Deathbird smiled, and Bishop yelled.