You kill some, you save some.

[Warren Worthington III]

(( OOC: Open to everyone at Beta Site.

The timeline is a little handwavy, but the idea is that this is happening after all the various introductory/arrival threads, and after the various interrogations in the prison, and will lead up to Warren staging an attack on the Northeast Camp to rescue Cannonball and maybe some PCs. The various time-jumped PCs can escape then too, either joining Warren or heading out on their own.))

Also, just to be clear – in Disenchanted future!bob set some flag that Zip checks regularly (several times a day… she’s FAST, and it gives her something to do) and walked outside the range of SHIELD’s psychic defense grid. Zip notified Elliot, who contacted Bob, who hooked her up with Warren. This is Warren & Bob’s usual arrangement so they can communicate without anyone but Elliot knowing.

I know, nobody really cares. But explaining it makes me feel better. )) [/b]

When Warren first ended up in charge of this little Brotherhood cell, he used to spend hours agonizing over decisions, knowing any little mistake of his could get them all killed.

He hasn’t done that in years. It’s not that he’s any more confident about his decisions than he used to be, or that the stakes are any lower, it’s that he’s learned that agonizing about it doesn’t lead to better decisions… the mistake he makes in thirty seconds he’ll usually make after three hours. And people respond better to quick decisions.

But he’s been sitting at his desk for the last hour, making charts and plans and lists, trying to figure out what to do about the situation.

"OK. One thing at a time. "

His team had managed to rescue the first wave of anachronisms, the 2007 editions of Josh and Toni and Russell and Bertrand and Roger, but they’d missed most of the second wave except for Primer, who had somehow hooked up with Blackburn. Seven new arrivals in an evening. It’s not his record, but these aren’t normal refugees… he really doesn’t know what to do with them.

Well, except for Blackburn, of course; this isn’t the first time Warren’s run into him. Maybe this time he’ll stick around. Warren has tried to recruit him before… granted, he’s not the easiest guy in the world to work with, but he has the most useful tactical set of abilities of any mutant Warren has ever even heard of.

Unfortunately, for all that Blackburn’s powers make him a huge asset to any team, the man himself is… difficult. Arrogant, impulsive, too prone to treat other mutants as tools. If he were more of a team player, we might even win this thing.

Boss?

At the mental intrusion, Warren looks up from the charts and lists and doodles he’s been making at his desk… a silly habit, since Elliot isn’t there to look at, but one he’s never been able to get rid of. His mental tone is exasperated, bordering on pissed off. What is it now?!?

Hey, don’t bite my head off, I’m just the messenger, remember? Yeah. Sorry. Short fuse, long day, I miss my real office, not your fault, I’m a horrible human being, how will you ever forgive me, I don’t deserve to live, you have news? (chuckle) Yeah, but you ain’t gonna like it. Just heard from Zip… the popsicle wants to talk.

Warren pinches the bridge of his nose in a tired gesture and shakes his head to clear it. He should have expected this… with these anachronisms popping up all day, information was going to leak out, and Drake was going to hear about it eventually. Still, he’s not in the mood.

Oh, for God’s sake, tell him – no, never mind. Patch me in, I’ll tell him myself. Righty-o, boss![/color]

The mental conference takes a tedious amount of time… Warren has gotten accustomed to exchanging information quickly with Elliot, but with Drake everything needs to be thought through in words, carefully, usually repeated several times. Still, the information eventually gets across, and they make the necessary plans.

(Unbidden, he remembers how it used to be with Josh… huge chunks of perception and reasoning and memory transferred in wholesale blocks, until they felt more like a single mind thinking about a problem than like two minds talking about it. No need for language, or for linearizing, or anything. It had seemed like such a blessing until they’d died together, and Warren had been the only one to recover.)

When they finally disconnect, Warren is tempted to simply throw away all his notes. Rescuing Cannonball would have been challenge enough, even with Drake’s covert help, but with all these anachronisms popping up everywhere he can’t take anything for granted. Is this what they’re for, maybe? To throw me off balance? He considers the possibility for a while and rejects it… in that case they’d have thrown the Josh-analog in prison, not arranged for him to get picked up by the Brotherhood.

OK, no sense speculating without facts. OK, switchboard-time. Round up the usual suspects, get them in here, it’s time for a council of war. Righty-o, chief! Um… how ‘bout the new guys? I mean, the old new guys… I mean, you know what I mean!

Warren shrugs. Sure, them too, if they want. Leaving them behind is just as likely to be dangerous as bringing them along… may as well spring the damn trap, if it is one, and see what they’ve got.

[N.P.C]

Jade turns the car down a side street, weaving around a group of spilled trash bins. A few sketchy-looking people are hanging around in the entrance to the alley, and she accelerates slightly. Nobody was safe anymore.

She’d heard that, before she was born, one of the original X-Men had addressed Congress before the world had begun its spiral down the toilet. Back when the X-Men were actually something to be proud of, of course. In that address, her mother’s old friend had told the senators and representatives that people shouldn’t need to own a license to live. Things have gotten much, much worse than that. At this point, most mutants were either in jail or unregistered, living a rebel existence. It was only a matter of time before those that were neither would have to choose between the two.

At least Mom and Dad are safe. She was on her return from the weekly contact with the London group, and the intensity generally drained her, which was why she took a car out into the country. After one too many communications blackouts, the two groups on either side of the Atlantic had decided that they needed a general system of contact that couldn’t be interfered with. After some trial and error, she and her mother had figured the current system out - manipulating the Northern Lights. The general theory was simple - ion collisions in the upper atmosphere caused the aurora borealis. The two of them had agreed on certain light patterns to mean different concepts.

The problem was that her mother was considerably stronger and more experienced at manipulating weather patterns. She had close on 20 years of additional experience. The effort usually was enough to make Jade want to crawl straight back into her bunk when she got back. It was great at developing her control, though, and so she didn’t mind it too much. Telepathic contact would have been ideal, but the distance was just too far. With Josh gone (had it really been ten years?) Dad and Emma Frost were only remaining telepaths capable of using Cerebro to bridge the gap.

Which was all well and good, but the machine was buried under the Institute, probably smashed to bits… and there was no way they’d have the time to excavate it. Colonel Drake would be on them before that.

She parks the car in the stall in the nondescript parking garage, and sets the security system. If anyone came poking around, the techs at Home would know, and be able to warn the next agent off. Elliot… I’m back. I hope there’s something good in the mess hall… The car drop was a good 15 minute walk from the pedestrian entrance to Home, so she had some time to kill, and Elliot was always entertaining.

Gee, sorry to burst your bubble, but the Boss called a meeting. A council of war, more like… time for another raid. As Jade walks guardedly through the New York streets towards their base, Eliot updates her on the situation. And you’ll never guess what sort of visitors we’ve had… She explains the last day or so to Jade.

No way. Not possible. Josh is dead, and so’s Jack! And how could there be another Fortress? It’s confirmed, at least… complete DNA matches on all of them. We did every kind of test we could think of… fingerprints, retinas, DNA, tons of scans. It’s definitely them, and they’re clean of any bombs or viruses or whatnot. Whaddya think it’s all about? No idea… Jade shakes her head. Wow.

Hey, at least we’ve got some extra firepower for the raid, right? Yeah, I suppose. Boss didn’t seem that happy about it all. Said that fate should have sent him the 28-year-old Josh, the one with more control over his powers.

Jade frowns. Hey, give Warren a break… he was never the same after Josh died. He’d certainly pulled in on himself, and that was from the vague perspective of a 9-year-old. She could still remember her mother telling her to give Warren space, that he’d felt Josh die, and it had been a horribly traumatic experience. I’spose so. The one from 2007 - or wherever he’s actually from - is having some problems adjusting to the idea of being dead, I think. I mean, that he’s dead now. I can imagine. See you soon…

---------

Vanisher had teleported her over to Beta Site after a quick dinner. Often, their food selections all tasted the same - their cook was good, but had limited ingredients to work with.

Jade steps through the automatic doors into the conference room, where a few team members have already gathered. Waving to them, she spends a minute pulling her long black hair back and clipping it up into place. It was likely they’d be moving as soon as the briefing was over, and there was nothing worse than the wind whipping her hair into her mouth in the middle of battle. She takes a seat and puts her head down on the conference table. I will not fall asleep mid-briefing. The temptation to close her eyes is strong.

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

This has been one messed up, screwy 48 hours.

Josh enters the conference room and drops into a seat. He looks down the table at some of Warren’s team and nods. They nod back guardedly. A small sigh escapes him, and he looks away. While the battery of tests they’d all had to suffer through had proved he had identical DNA to… well, himself, and that they weren’t going to explode and kill members of the rebel movement, it had proved little else. Most of their ‘future selves’ were friendly enough, but members of Warren’s team who hadn’t known him in the past didn’t seem to trust him at all. It was enough to make him want to give up.

Except there was nowhere to give up to. If Illyana really had been the catalyst for their time travel, they’d have to wait until they heard from her… and who knew how long that would be? Warren had put in the call, but it could be any length of time.

A small gasp focuses his attention on the girl next to him. She looked about his age, with light brown skin, black hair, which was currently pulled up, and gray eyes. Her lips were currently parted in wonder, and a hand was pressed to her temple.

“Um… can I help you?” Josh raises an eyebrow. Great, someone else who thinks I’m going to stick them with a switchblade. Before he can even blink, she’s right in his face and hugging him. Who the hell is this?

“Uncle Josh? I can’t believe it, it really is you.” Her voice sounds astonished, and she lets go to look him over. “But you look so much younger than I remember… are you in college right now?” She hugs him again.

“Yeah, I am… Columbia. It’s really great to finally find someone who doesn’t look at me like I’m radioactive… but… who are you?” Josh runs a hand through his hair, trying desperately to make some kind of connection. She’s about as old as I am… and she’s really, really familiar…

The girl colors slightly. “Sorry. I guess I got ahead of myself… If you’re from 2007, we haven’t met yet. I’m… Jade. Jade Munroe-Sheppard.” Her lips curve into a smile, waiting for his reaction.

Josh bursts out laughing, which puts a puzzled look on her face. “Shut up. Jake and Ororo got married? He can’t even pull up the courage to ask her on a date! There’s no way…” A slightly hurt look flits across her face, and he looks abashed. “Um… sorry. It’s just, your father…” Wow, how crazy insane is this?! “…your father isn’t exactly debonair. Storm must have put the moves on him…” Realizing how awkward it would be if someone had this conversation with him about his own parents, Josh moves hurriedly forward. “Well, it’s really great to meet you.”

Jade grins. “Well, I knew you really well before…” She looks sad for a moment. “Yeah. Anyway, you were pretty much my favorite uncle ever. You let me play doctor in the medical lab… and you started teaching me how to control my powers a little, before you… well, before you died.” A strange expression crosses her face. “You know, it’s really bizarre to say that. And, you know, I was like 9… and you were in your late 20s. That’s even weirder…” She looks him over again.

Josh grins slightly. He’d found over the last two days that he’d get too upset if he dwelled on the whole death thing. After lying awake the entire first night thinking about it, he’d decided that there was no certainty that it would actually still happen, since the timeline had already been contaminated. His grasp on the space-time continuum had been heavily influenced by science fiction television, so there was no telling whether he was actually onto something. It made it easier ignore the dropping sensation his stomach made every time someone mentioned it, though.

“Yeah, believe me, I get it. My husband is now 41, and is completely different…” Josh bites his lip. “It’s hard. He’s not my husband, exactly, yet he’s so familiar.” He narrows his eyes slightly. “So how come you believe me?”

“Well… I’m not as pessimistic as our fearless leader… maybe I got that from my dad. Warren’s also been through hell and back. He never was the same after… but it’s more than that.” Jade taps a finger against her lips absently. “Your mind just feels like Uncle Josh. I can’t really explain it… I only have a childish, 10-year-old memory of it. Maybe it’s stupid of me, but there it is.”

“You got your dad's telepathy, then? Huh. Interesting… maybe that will convince them? I think they’re so worried that I’m going to wipe their brains out that they haven’t considered telepathy so far.” Josh rolls his eyes. “Maybe they could remember that I’m not so good at that kind of thing…”

[Jack Russell]

His back hurts.

There's a certain amount of stiffnes in Jack's gait, twitching nervously up his leg and zig-zagging up to his neck. Last night had been particularly rough, and bed seems to be the likely choice, and he wants nothing more than to lapse into a land of endless forest in his mind. He dreams of nothing but forests and the wilderness--ever since he'd shifted for the first time--and sometimes he can see vague memories in them, but the dreams and memories are so anonymous that he can never tell which is which. If there were a time when he ever felt more free in his own skin, he had yet to find it. But for now, Jack would have to settle with reality.

Soundlessly, he strides down the hallway, feeling uncomfortable in the clothes that Warren's team had been kind enough to give him. He tugs at them, smelling other hands and the smears of war deep in the threads. No amount of washing could get rid of the skin that rubbed across the fabric, despite what others thought. He'd have settled for his own if his transformation hadn't shredded them. He had his own shyness to thank for that, considering it was the future Toni who had watched him last night.

The concept of automatic doors still weirds him out, and he tilts his head curiously as a pair of them to the conference room open suddeny with a soft kssh. Arching his brows, he offers a blank look to the party gathered in side, perhaps looking a little funny to them. "I uh... sorry. Am I late?" A few stare almost openly, perhaps unused to the younger, less social Jack, and the discomfort riveting through the gathered group doesn't escape him unnoticed. Clearing his throat, Jack steps inside, shooting a glance over his shoulder after the doors close behind him. He tries a nervous laugh, and after illiciting no response, he swallows and takes an empty seat next to Josh, feeling better if he has someone he currently knows beside him.

[Warren Worthington III]

"OK… let’s get started planning this thing." Warren looks around at the assembled troops, startled by how crowded the room is. Normally he holds these things at the Alpha Site’s War Room, which is larger… and normally there aren’t quite as many people involved. He wonders if that will turn out to be a good thing or a bad thing.

"So. To catch the new folks up: Drake’s got himself one of ours penned up in his little winter home – Cannonball. He got careless on a mission, and he knows way too much to let them interrogate him. So it’s time for another escape. Usual parameters: collateral escapees are great but secondary, keep casualties and property damage to a minimum, get in and get out fast."

He hesitates for a moment before outlining his plan, profoundly aware of the strangers/not-strangers in the room, then shrugs and dives in. "So. This is a map of the facility." He presses a button and the holo-map floats above his display. "Fortress, you’re leading a ground assault here. The White Queen’s team staged an assault on SHIELD’s West Coast HQ last week, she sent her tanks in to demolish the psionic inhibitors and pretty much turned everyone’s mind inside-out; I figure they’ll be expecting something similar and assume we’ve got some new hotshot psychic on our side, so you’ll see a lot of resistance. Just stay alive and keep them busy; you’re the distraction. Elliot, you corral the teeps and keep their psionic perimeter alarms going off, just to add to the noise. Vanisher: you port in here and dump a couple of tanks of MGH into their ventilation system; they’ll shut that down almost immediately but that’ll still give them some repowered inmates to deal with. I’ll be leading an aerial squad – they’ll probably consider it another distraction, but we’re timing this to coincide with Sam’s transfer, so he’ll be out in the open when we come in. We just scoop him up and take off and the rest of you pull out."

He shrugs a little – it always sounds so simple before the enemy gets involved – and looks around. "That’s it. We scatter to these points here afterwards, and Vanisher picks us up. Usual teams. You new folks, here are your assignments. I’d suggest y’all take the time to get acquainted; we take off in half an hour. Any questions, you know who to ask."

(( OOC: Team up any way you like, and that will be how Warren assigned you. ))