ISSUE #27 MUSE Part 1 Recruitment by David Ingram

Arlington Virginia Peter Sosa, a young man of nineteen years, groaned as he awoke to a new day in his two bed room apartment. The time was almost past noon, but Peter wasn't the least bit concerned. At a leisurely pace, he got up, took a shower and then sat down at his personal computer. "Let's see what's happening in the mutant world today." He smiled as leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head. He concentrated, and the computer turned itself on. Opening his Internet explorer, the first thing Peter checked was his email. There were well over three-dozen messages. They had headers reading Force Works, M.U.S.E, Genosha, Fallen Angels, X-Force, X-Men Omega, and Exiles, among others. "Let's see what the heck this 'M.U.S.E thing is," Peter remarked as he clicked the message marked 'M.U.S.E'. Subject: M.U.S.E REPORT Date: Thursday January 12th From: Shield Database To: One Curious mutant The M.U.S.E, otherwise known as the mutant underground support engine, first established by Charles Xavier, was, as the name implies, a secret support engine for mutants and their families. When it was first established is not known, though it is believed it was created several years before the first class of X-Men. The MUSE provided numerous services to mutants in need, from relocating exploited mutants (see attached file Jesse Bedlam: Deceased) to fielding mutant operatives against subtle threats against mutant kind (See attached file Minutemen). Due to it's secretive nature, the majority of the Muse's exploits will likely remain forever unknown. It is know that the MUSE was recently decimated by the combined efforts of the creatures known as Harvest and Bastion. During their attack on mutant kind, Renee Majcomb along with many MUSE mutant operatives were killed in their secret base in San Francisco. However, several MUSE operatives, known to be in the area at the time of the attack have in fact shown up on Muir Island alive, and several known members are currently working at X-Camp(See attached file: X-Camp). What exactly happened is unknown, though it is believed they were saved by a teleporter. Regardless, based on what little is known of the Mutant Underground Support Engine, we can safely say that it is no more. "Damn, that's one choice down," Peter sighed as he read the file. He simply shrugged and opened the file marked 'Exiles', "Still, they aren't the only fish in the sea." Peter spent the half hour reading about various mutant groups, from the Exiles to the Fallen Angels. Peter felt that if the time ever came to actually take sides on the crazy shit that happened between humans and mutants, he needed to know what would be the best side to be on. Finally he decided to run his errands for the day. Quickly making a grocery list, he left his apartment and briskly made his way down the stairs from his fourth floor apartment. He made it to car and started to unlock it when he saw his neighbor, an elderly woman by the name of Ms. Landry, struggling with her grocery bags. For a moment, Peter considered just turning the key, getting in his car and driving away. Right, like he could look himself in the mirror after that. "Aw nuts," he thought as he took his key out of the car door and walked towards his elderly neighbor. "Ms. Landry, why don't you let me get that?" "Oh, that's alright, Peter, I have it," Ms. Landry insisted as she struggled with the bag. "I'm sure you have more important things to do." "One of the advantages of working from home is that you can set your own schedule," Peter explained as he gently took the bags out of Ms. Landry's arms. "This won't take but a minute." Which was a lie, of course. Ms. Landry lived on the sixth floor, which was reason enough for him to carry her groceries in, as far as Peter was concerned. An elderly woman like Ms. Landry should not have to make a trip like that any more times than necessary, as far as Peter was concerned. And since he was around, the responsibility thus fell onto his shoulders. After ten exhausting minutes, Peter had ferried all ten bags of Ms. Landry's groceries up to her apartment. "Thank you Peter, you're such a kind boy. You deserve a reward…" Ms. Landry said as he put down the final bag. Peter sighed good-naturedly. "I'm fine, Ms. Landry, don't sweat it," he said as he made a bee-line for the door. Peter had it closed before Ms. Landry had finished digging thru her purse for his monetary reward, which likely would have been money he felt was better spent on her. Peter again briskly made his way down the stairs and towards his car, ready to finish the day's errands. Unknown to Peter, sitting across the street from his apartment in an unassuming car sat two regular looking men. Except that they needlessly wore sunglasses and had been watching him in some fashion for several hours. "Subject appears to be heading out to run errands," one man reported into a transmitter hidden in his sleeve, "please advise." "Remain at your station and wait for him to return home. The target does not, repeat, does not know, that he has been targeted. He is not a flight risk. Recon the area and see if you can determine a suitable area for an 'conference'." "Understood." "That's 56 dollars and twenty cents, sir," the middle-aged woman behind the check out counter said. "I keep telling you Brenda, you don't gotta call me sir. Makes me feel old," Peter said as he took out his wallet and pulled out his credit card. He ran it thru the scanner quickly, and punched in his code in. "I know, I know. It's just habit," Brenda smiled. Peter always like to make small talk with her, she was unusually pleasant to everyone, and Peter liked that about people. "So, how's college coming?" "I'm a little behind in my classes, but I think I can handle it," Peter replied, without missing a beat. It was a lie, but those came natural to him when the need arose. Peter loaded the groceries into his cart, waved goodbye to Brenda and left for home. After he finished putting the groceries away, Peter spent the next several hours loafing around and surfing the net. His mutant ability to control any computer came in handy whenever he came a porn site he wanted to visit. After what seemed like forever, the sun finally went down, and he knew his friends would be getting off of work soon. Peter took a quick shower, changed into some casual clothes (which were really the only clothes he had), and left his apartment. Unknown to him, the two men who were watching him before were still waiting. "Subject is leaving his house. Advise," one said into his radio. "Everything is ready. What direction is he heading?" "North," the man reported. "Perfect. Our men are already in the area," the voice on the radio replied. As Peter walked towards his friend's apartment, only six blocks away, he felt an irresistible urge to cut thru Munro Park. The area was heavily forested, and while it was certainly no Central Park, both in terms of crime and size, it was a lonely place at night. But still, Peter felt an irresistible urge cut thru it as he walked towards his friend's house. And so he did. This is so stupid he thought to himself. Peter felt as if he was being watched, stalked. Certain twigs cracking, hushed winds, but still Peter walked into the park, and against his nature never once looked over his shoulder. Peter broke out into a cold sweat as he walked thru the park, his nerves on edge and swore if anyone assaulted him, he'd help them just a little by kicking himself in the ass a few times for being so stupid. "That's far enough, you stupid mutie," a voice declared from a little farther up the path. Peter looked to see two heavy-set men standing twenty feet in front of him. Both were carrying small handguns. "Umm, guys? This is Virginia. Vir. Gin. Ah," Peter said pointing to his right. "You want to mug somebody, D.C's that away!" Peter explained as he started to back pedal. He suspected why the two men were here, but Peter always had a hard time resisting a chance to crack wise for better or worse. "Gotta go!" He spun around, ready to break the world record in sprinting, only to find at least ten men in camouflage waiting behind him. He was quickly and casually surrounded, and very much screwed. "Umm, can I help you guys?" Peter asked nervously. "You know what we want, you dumb mutie," one man spat. "You hacked into our accounts and stole over ten million dollars from us. We want what's ours." "If I did that, why would I be living here? I'd be living it up in L.A, man!" Peter stated. "Either you like the area, or you don't want to raise any eye brows by suddenly acting as though you inherited millions of dollars, because your friends and family would catch on in a heart beat," the same man explained. Okay, that's two points for the bigots Peter thought. Crap. "You Friends of Humanity want me to do that before or after you shove a knife in my back?" Peter spat. "Oh, don't worry about that kid. If you play nice with us, we won't harm a hair on your mutie head," another man said. Peter almost broke out into hysterical laughter, "Yeah fucking right! I know you guys think I'm subhuman or something, but you gotta know I'm not that stupid!" "We ain't going to hurt you because Shield and the F.B.I both are getting ready to arrest your mutie ass." a medium set man standing behind Peter informed him, "See, you're not as good as a hacker as you would like to think with your mutie power. Think SHIELD and all those other places you've decided to peek into didn't consider the possibility that there would be a mutant born with the ability to control computers?" the man laughed. "I bet Forge laughed his ass off seeing your 'viruses' taking the cheese to his mouse traps." Peter's blood ran cold at that, and he suddenly knew why the Friends didn't want to harm him. They wanted to see him go down in Federal court first as an example to other mutants who might abuse their powers, and then likely get shived in prison. Win, win situation, for them at least. "So, why are you Nazi bastards here? If Shield is really on my ass like you say, you'll get your money back." "Maybe. But I wouldn't put it past that injuin Forge to 'lose' the records and pocket the money himself. That's why we're here," the leader stated. "Ten million is too much money to trust a mutie with." Peter's mind broke out into a rapid repetition of 'shit' as he tried in vain to think of a way out of this situation. If he got past the Friends, he still had to deal with Shield, and then the F.B.I and God knows who else. Is mutant power to control computers meant less than jack in a situation like this. How the hell could he possibly get out of this? Maybe you shouldn't have abused your powers in the first place and gotten a real job. A voice commented in his head seconds before he heard, "Evening Gents, is this a private party or can anyone join?" Everyone turned to see two very odd men approaching. One man was easily middle aged, white, with black hair and graying temples. The man wore plain jeans and dark back shirt with a breast pocket. The man looked more like a carpenter than someone threatening a large group of bigots. The other man was wearing a black body suit that almost resembled leather that covered every inch of his body with two blood red goggles where his eyes should have been. "Who the hell are you two?" one Friend asked. "You don't need to know our names, buddy. We're the men who're going to hand you yo' ass if you don't back away from that young man there. SHIELD has already seized his bank accounts, and returned your money," The older man stated. "You can leave now." "Why should we believe you?" one man asked. "I never said you had to believe me," the older man said. "In fact, ask me if I care. 'Cause I don't, dawg. Don't make me give y'all a whupping." "Fuck this. I don't know why you're here, but I know mutie scum when I see it," one friend stated as he pushed Peter aside and discharged his weapon four times at the older man. To the astonishment of everyone except his companion, the older man, while standing still, dodged each and every bullet so fast that he left an after image in the air. Once he was done, his cloths were smoking slightly, and Peter was having flash backs of 'The Matrix'. "Okay, if that's how we're going to play it, that's how we're going to play it, boyo." He motioned towards the men standing in front of him with his hands, and their guns were yanked out of their grip. They flew several feet from their owners, and then whipped back at them, smashing into their faces. "Brandon, you take ones behind me, I'll take the ones in front," the older man stated. The man known as Weapon X didn't even nod in response. He simply created an energy lance using his battle suit and used it to sweep the feet out from under his attackers. Once they were down Weapon X leaped over them and targeted two Friends who had chosen to hold back. A round house kick dispatched one, and while an elbow to the neck disabled another. The battle Weapon X was fighting with himself was far more of a challenge than the battle with the Friends of Humanity. His every instinct told him to kill, to maim these men. But Weapon X fought those instincts just as hard as he fought all his other enemies. The Weapon X project had controlled his life long enough, and he's be damned if he let them control him further. Peter watched as Weapon X disabled his attackers with ease than would have been the envy of almost any professional fighter. What amazed Peter even more was that seconds before he heard the -crack- of a sniper's rifle, Weapon X was already moving to dodge. The sniper was hidden in a tree about twenty yards away, and Weapon X deduced his location in seconds. Weapon X dashed towards the tree while dancing in between the sniper's bullets. Each and every shot came within a hairs breath of Weapon X, mainly because sniper was a professional, but Weapon X was never in danger. But even that wouldn't help him against Weapon X. When Weapon X was within ten feet of the tree, he created an energy lance and launched it towards the tree, about four feet above the ground. Then, Weapon X leaped up onto the lance, and using the lance as a springboard, flew up into the tree. Peter saw Weapon X come down two seconds later, followed by not one but two snipers. Peter realized with awe, and a little shock, that Weapon X had defeated the men without even breaking stride. In the melee, everyone had pretty much forgotten about him, but despite that, Peter hadn't run. And boy, did he want to. Peter would later realize it was the older man's telepathy that kept him there, and had been what forced him into the ambush in the first place. The older man had defeated his attackers, but was strangely smoking all over, as if he was about to burst into flame. "Damn, ah havetae stop using this trick," the older man said as he telekinetically summoned a water jug he had secreted in the bushes. He poured the water over his body, and Peter could hear the water sizzle and turn to steam. "You damn well better be worth it kid," he said as he looked at Peter. "How the hell did you do that shit, man?" Peter asked, stunned by the man's display of power. "I've seen Quicksilver move on T.V and you left him in the dust!" "I'm a minor telekinetic, laddie. I surround my body in a telekinetic force field and manipulate that, letting me move at close to the speed of thought," the man explained. He held up the water jug. "Problem is, I generate too much friction that way. If I don't stay in one place, well, I don't know what will happen, ain't never tested it see, but it likely won't be pleasant." "Care to tell me why you and tall, dark and hard core as hell give a damn about me, then?" Peter asked as Weapon X returned to the older man's side. "Well, I'll start at the beginning. My name's Jason Blackwood, kid. My friend here goes by Weapon X, or Brandon, whichever you prefer." Weapon X nodded towards Peter. Though it was a friendly gesture, it almost made Peter step back in fear. Peter had heard whispers and rumors about Weapon X, all of them, and he wasn't exactly enamored with the idea of being within arm's length of anyone touched by the project. "We have some tabs on the Friends and…" "So…what's the job?" Peter interrupted, screwing up his courage. "Excuse me, mon?" Blackwood asked, annoyed. "Well," Peter said, somewhat calmer now, though not by much, "you guys just saved my ass. So either you want me for something, or just want to shoot me yourself." Blackwood looked towards Weapon X, and shrugged. He then mentally picked up a handgun, pointed it towards Peter and fired. "Aaah!" Peter screamed as the bullet tore thru the skin of his left shoulder. The wound was easily described as a flesh wound, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. Peter clamped his right hand over the wound trying to stop the bleeding and crumbled to the ground. Are you done interrupting me boy? Blackwood asked telepathically. "Yes," Peter squeaked "Good. God damn, stupid and annoying," Blackwood sighed. "If you don't come in handy, I may just gift wrap you for the Friends of Humanity myself." "Handy?" Peter asked, still on the ground. "Do I have to shoot you again?" Blackwood replied. Peter shook his head from left to right furiously. "Well, since you're some impatient, I'll cut right to the chase," Blackwood stated. "You sir, Mr. Sosa, have been using your God given powers to illegally live a life of leisure, using your ability to control computer to skim money from large accounts. You've also used your mutant power to research every mutant group out there. Nothing wrong with that, if you hadn't tried to hack Shield and other databases you had no right being in. Don't bother denying it, I'm a telepath, as I hope you've figured out by now. Well, one way or another Sosa, all that ends today." "What do you mean?" Peter asked. "There're F.B.I agents waiting for you to return home. SHIELD agents too. I can get you out of the state safe and sound, if you join me. If you don't, well, you're on your own." "How the hell can you get me out of this!" Peter demanded. "Shit, if you're telling me the truth, super CIA Shield is after me! I doubt they'll stop looking for me if I just don't show up at home." "I've managed to get my hands on an L.M.D and gave it your likeness. You don't need to know the rest, if you join up. Decide now, kid. Us, or jail." Peter covered his hands with his face and wept tears of impotent anger. He wasn't angry with Blackwood, or Shield or even the Friends of Humanity. Rather, he was supremely pissed at himself for digging this hole. He knew that whatever choice he made, he would be forced to completely throw his life away. He'd likely never see his friends and family again, and if he actually saw them again, they would see him in another light. Finally, after a few moments, Peter took his hands out of his face and made a choice. "Okay, I'm yours. You got me." Peter sighed in a defeated voice. "You made the right choice, kid," Blackwood said in a surprisingly comforting tone of voice. He was experienced with this sort of thing. "My car's about two blocks away. We'll get you patched up and ready to start your new life." "Can I ask a few questions?" Peter asked as they started to leave the park, still clutching his bleeding shoulder. "Two," Blackwood said bluntly. "Okay, why'd you shoot me?" Peter asked "Because I didn't want you getting too cocky, kid. You need me a lot more than I need you," Blackwood replied, "remember that." "Okay, last question," Peter said, "Who the hell are you guys? You're not law enforcement, I know that much." Blackwood smiled, "Nope. We're members of the Muse, mutant underground support engine. One of the late Professor X's legacies and gifts to mutants everywhere." Peter Sosa stopped dead in his tracks at that revelation, "What? I thought you guys were wiped out! I read that SHIELD report that said some Bastion and Harvest guy wiped you people out!" "They certainly came closer than anyone else," Blackwood sighed, "But close only counts in horse shoes and hand grenades." "So… how is it you're still around I mean, that report…?" Peter asked "You'll see," said Blackwood, "in due time."