In association with the X-Men Comics group on Facebook, we’re bringing two of the ’90s’ more unusual X-Men in collision!!
. ~ .
Marrow was having fun.
Leader of a band of genetic terrorists known as Gene Nation, she had led her team to the very edge of the tunnels in which they lived; and, as luck would have it, they’d stumbled upon a band of Flatscans who were working to repair a damaged train line. Their screams of pain set her heart racing, and she laughed as she saw the brute Hemmingway flatten one with a savage blow.
“P-please,” one man gasped, running towards her. Treating him to her most malicious smile, Marrow tore one of her bone daggers from her body and swept it forward; it cut a bloody path down his chest, and he fell back with a scream of pain. Marrow stepped in closer, making sure that her grin was the last thing he saw, and plunged the shard of bone into his heart. A moment of spasms passed, and it was done; Marrow looked up at her team, grinning at them.
The air shimmered once again, and suddenly another mutant was in their midst; a woman whose body was clad in shimmering green and white, a woman who Marrow remembered with clarity.
Another of the ones who had slaughtered her people.
As one, the members of Gene Nation leapt in for the kill. Vertigo – or, though they did not know it, the clone of Vertigo – did her best, but for all her power she was simply outnumbered. Gene Nation drove her down, and within a matter of minutes she was dead.
Licking the blood of her bones, revelling in the carnage, Marrow turned. She wasn’t particularly surprised to see their benefactor watching them.
“Well done,” Mojo boomed. “Haven’t I always come through for you, Sarah?”
Marrow nodded. Mojo claimed to have been a friend of Masque’s, and told her that he had been hunting the Marauders for years. Now, Gene Nation were the tool of his revenge – and that suited Marrow just fine.
But something was different this time, she could tell. Mojo seemed almost uncomfortable. “What is it?”
The strange, slug-like being gave a monumental shrug. “You can read me like a book,” he grumbled. “I can’t hide anything from you…”
Giving him a murderous glare, Marrow responded, “Don’t try to.”
With a sigh, Mojo explained. “This next one worked with them in secret. He was close to their commander, a man called Sinister. Nobody ever saw him in the tunnels, but I tracked him down from memories I stole from the one you killed last week.”
Marrow didn’t really care for the story. “I don’t particularly care,” she told him. “If he was involved, he dies.” Her team cheered behind her.
“It’s not going to be that simple,” Mojo explained wearily. “His powers… they mean I can’t teleport him like I did the others.”
OK, so they would have to adapt; so long as he died, Marrow wasn’t bothered. “Then take us to him,” she ordered.
Now Mojo brightened up, relieved to have a solution to his dilemma, and the air shimmered around Gene Nation – shimmered, but nothing happened.
“Blast,” Mojo growled. “The energy field’s blocking me.” He paused for a moment, thinking, then: “I can take one of you,” he declared. “As leader, I suppose it should be you, Sarah.”
Marrow frowned, suddenly feeling rather suspicious. It all sounded too convenient; and yet, she reasoned, she had nothing to fear from that tub of lard. She could gut him like a fish before he could so much as touch her.
“Do it,” Marrow commanded.
. ~ .
Mojo teleported back into his office, and roared with glee. “Oh, how trusting, how naïve,” he bellowed. “Either that, or maybe I should’ve been an actor!”
On-screen, Marrow had appeared in a deserted apartment; she was standing face-to-face with another mutant. A weird blue-skinned being with two gigantic metal slug-like creatures around him, Maggott looked at her in shock. “Sarah,” he welcomed her – he was from later on in the timestream, from a time when Marrow had become an X-Man.
“Time to die, gene-traitor,” Marrow hissed as she moved towards him, tugging blades out of her flesh.
Mojo settled down to enjoy the show.