X-Writers Presents...

X-Force #47
Written by:  Rhonda (ginter@vax2.concordia.ca)

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	Charles Xavier would have run a hand through his hair, if
he had any.
	As his five original students counselled him, the professor
considered every available option.  Calvin Rankin was stirring again,
after a long absence.  Once thought dead, the most uncontrollable 
mutant ever to call himself an X-Man was back. The mutant named Mimic.
	"We did what we could to stop him, sir," Roberto added. He
interrupted the silence of the room, creating an even more awkward
atmosphere.  His two teammates, Caliban and Warpath, flocked to his 
side, rather quiet themselves.  Jean sighed and leaned on her husband's
shoulder.  Warren and Bobby sat on the couch by the fireplace of
Xavier's study.
	Caliban spoke sincerely.  "Is Power-Thief an enemy of Professor
Xavier?" Xavier shook his head, "No, Caliban, once he was not. Mimic
was another mutant in need, _dire_ need perhaps more than any other I 
have encountered.  His once-temporary mutations, assuming the powers
and mutated physical characteristics of those around him, seem to
have become permanent.  SO with the power at his disposal, he must
be dealt with cautiously.  But no, he's not an enemy... he's in pain."
	"We have to reason with him, Professor," Hank interjected.
"I've dealt with Mimic almost more than anyone else; I can try to get
through to him, to bring him back to the mansion..."
	Warpath retorted, "Why? So he can steal everyone else's
powers too?" Hank sighed.  "No, James.  Because he needs help. We can
slap a power restrainer on him, or glue Leech to his back. The point
is that he has no one else.  Isn't that what we're here for?"
	The thought of Sabretooth crawling around the Danger Room
entered everyone's mind.  The fear of him getting loose again was
terrifying, so frightening that they tried to shut it out, but could
not.
	"I'll consider a course of action, children," Charles said
meaningfully, suggesting that the younger ones should leave the room.
Warpath raised an eyebrow almost contemptuously, walking slowing toward
the door.  Berto and Caliban nodded together, though, and proceeded
after Jimmy.

****
	Shatterstar knew little about love. He was learning rather
quickly.
	"Thirty - Love!" Betsy shouted from the other side of the net.
"Let's go, Shatterstar. You look like a pro!" Shatterstar's game to 
serve.  Tossing the ball in the air, he slammed into it gracefully.
	Betsy laughed in astonishment.  "I thought you were a rookie."
Shatterstar simply grinned pompously and noted, "I have always found
that coordination is the least of my problems."
	Another watched their game, chuckling in amusement.  "Hey, 'Star,
you pullin' one over on Betsy?" Sam Guthrie was never 'into' tennis.
Growing up a baseball fan, he had found little opportunity to play any
sport with his hectic (and dangerous) lifestyle.  "Better watch out,
or her beau'll come after you."
	Shatterstar stood confidantly, tossing his racket in the air,
recatching it by reflex as it plunged back toward the pavement. He
bore a more serious air, as he said, "Mr. Worthington does not
frighten me.  His wings may be deadly, and he a skilled warrior, but
years of training with Xavier never compare to a life of experience in
the stadium of blood-thirsty, ratings-grabbing, spineless..."
	Sam raised an eyebrow.  "'Star... you ranting?" Never had his
friend shown any remote sign of... well... of a personality. "I'm
impressed."
	Betsy wiped the sweat from her forward with a spare towel
on a bench.  "You know, Samuel, you ought to join us next time. I could
always fit in another 'student'," she said, almost condescendingly. As
she patted him on the shoulder and walked past him, toward the mansion,
Sam followed her, leaving Shatterstar behind to put away the rackets.
	"Whassup with Warren, Betsy? Ah mean, you guys are together
now, right?" Sam prodded.  Betsy nodded slowly. He continued, "It just
seems strange, Doug being back an' all, an' I don't think you've talked
about him once. Or even called 'im."
	Betsy gently took Sam's arm. "There is no part of Doug in
that 'boy', Samuel. Douglock is a sentient, animate techno-creature,
imitating Douglas' form. Mocking our memories of him... not deliberately,
granted, but I feel no due responsability to visit him, or even to
speak to him."
	"How d'ya even know that?" he persisted.
	"Samuel... Sam, I didn't love Douglas, even when I was with him,
nor did he love me.  Admittedly we were the strangest match-up imaginable.
But I know him well, and care for him. Even in Australia, I felt that he
was gone. I could feel his absence, just as I felt Kwannon's when she
died.  And I do not feel him now... there is no doubt in my mind
that Doug Ramsey is dead." With those words, she walked quickly into
the mansion, offering no second glance.  Sam was only left with his
own memories, and doubts of what to believe now.

****
	"Caliban's friends!" The now-purple Caliban ran toward the 
trio.
	Sally 'Skids' Blevins, Artie, and Leech embraced Caliban tenderly.
Almost at once, Leech was on his old friend's shoulders, covering his
eyes.  "Cali? Leech and Artie missed you..." Artie held onto Caliban's
left leg, stepping on his toes and snuggling closely with him. Skids
offered a fast hug, but maintained more distance.
	"What bothers Skids?" Caliban asked, puzzled.  Artie and Leech
look up instantly, their innocent and loving eyes examining Skids'
troubled face.  She hadn't had a chance to tell them yet.
	"It's... it's Rusty, guys..." Artie could tell from the expression
on her face that the news was not good. But he remained optimistic,
still smiling though not as widely.
	Leech too remained hopeful, hardly predicting what Skids was
going to say:  "He died... he was killed by some psychopath... he's dead."
	The oafish Caliban still didn't understand; he still didn't
get it. "But Fireman will be back, yes?" Skids shook her head, tears 
rolling down her cheeks now.  Caliban slumped and Leech clung onto his
neck tighter.
	Only Artie mustered a word, so to speak.  The image that he
projected was that of Rusty on a winter day, back in the X-Terminators,
wards of X-Factor, tickling him and laughing.  Artie smiled at that
and let go of Caliban's arm and scooted over to Skids, pulling her
down by her belt toward the ground.
	There, on the slightly-wet grass, he lept into her lap and planted
an unexpected kiss on her cheek and giggled, looking again at the 
memory-fragment of Rusty.  Leech, who was also now crying, smiled as
well and leaped off of Caliban toward Skids.
	Only Caliban was clueless, and feeling utterly alone. But the
others cuddled for a long while, realizing they didn't have to mourn
the passing a friend. They could just be happy for what they had left.

****
	"You and I are very much alike, my friend," she suggested
caringly after a long, uninterrupted silence.
	He grunted.
	"Years ago, I nearly lost myself in my sorrow; reverted
to a darker side than I care to remember.  Men and women had called me
Goddess; I had been loved and admired... I had been... worshipped. But
Callisto, and Yukio, and Forge, and even you changed me. And with
the loss of my powers, my morality sunk low," Ororo recalled. "After
months of deliberation and clawing determination, I coped. Finally,
I am a mesh of those qualities which I most respect in both, both
goddess and thief, lover and vindicator. You need the same sense of
security.  You must------"
	With that, Ororo was pushed aside as Logan raced out of the
woods, where they had stood for nearly half an hour, toward the mansion
with an unprecedented, impulsive response.  "Logan!" Getting to her
feet, she summoned a wind to carry her after her fallen friend.
	"What is...?" she thought, until she saw the cause of his
anxiety.  Sabretooth was free.

****
	Earlier, Tabitha had given a much-needed pep-talk to the one
some called Mr. Creed. "Ok, now, here's the thing: You haveta prove
to Prof. X that you've got that 'be good' attitude that he's looking
for... Stop that!" She had smacked the back of Creed's butt. He had been
licking her kneecap; Tabitha had giggled and continued.
        "Just don't make me regret doing this, ok? I know you'll be
great... go get'em tiger," she had encouraged him. Apparently, she hadn't
expected the poor reception that her troubled friend would encounter
outside.
	Logan raced against the wind, catching his vicious enemy's scent 
in the air, just a whiff; Storm raced with the wind, worried for her 
friend's safety and sanity. The scene, attracting more attention still,
drew Caliban, who created great fear in Sabretooth's eye with his
own mutant ability.
	Sabretooth, unleashed, clenched onto Tabitha's hand as Logan
charged him.  Shaking in terror, in large part due to Caliban's intense
application of his power, he cringed as Logan leaped onto his chest
and Tabitha jumped aside in shock.  Victor kicked Logan off of him
in reflex just as Sam rocketted on scene, placing his hands in a very firm
grip on Victor's throat, flying him into a stone wall of the mansion.
	Sam's grip tightened with one hand, as he prepared the other
one inches away from Victor's face to smash him in.  But as Caliban
and Logan approached, a small time-bomb exploded at their feet and
they fell back.  "Stop it, you big jerks!" Tabitha screeched.  "What
the hell's the matter with you, Sam?!"
	A mental voice emanated through everyone's head. "Yes, Tabitha,
an interesting question. But I'm more concerned about what Creed is
doing loose."  It was Professor Xavier's way of stopping a growing
violent situation.  Exiting the back patio door of the mansion with
Jean, Scott, Warren, Hank, and Bobby, Charles had a rather grim expression
on his face.
	Tabitha released Victor from Sam's grip, placing the former's
hand in hers. Caliban did not turn off his fear-inducing power though,
and Tabitha threw him a furious glare.  "Tabitha, you are hardly in a
position to complain," the Professor suggested severely.  Turning to the
others, he said, "Please leave me with Sam and Tabitha. Ororo, make sure
that Sabretooth returns to the Danger Room immediately."
	Ororo grabbed Sabretooth by the arm and led him cautiously into
the mansion.  She could hear Professor Xavier's mental voice tell her,
"And, of course, get him back on leash and muzzle. I'll talk to Tabitha."
Ororo nodded meaningfully and walked, with Caliban and Sabretooth, 
indoors.
	As the others started to disperse, Charles eyed them all 
thoughtfully.  He turned first to Tabitha.  "This breach of security is
inexcusable, Boomer." Tabitha nodded. "You realize that, had Caliban
not been at the mansion, Sabretooth might have escaped?"
	"No, sir, I hadn't realized that..." she said. After a long
silence, in which all three were thinking, she added more forcibly,
"But I don't think you understand where he's coming from, or me for that
matter. I mean, c'mon! Logan really pulled something nasty with him.
He's been through hell already, can't he have a bit of freedom in this
place?"
	The Professor sighed. "Is that really what this incident
reflected? Your desire for Sabretooth to have 'fun'?"
	"Yeah, that too... What I meant was... jeez, how do I say
this... what I meant was that Victor's different, or he can be. But
how's he ever gonna be good if you treat him so badly?" she pleaded.
	"I accepted Sabretooth to the mansion with the intention of
returning him to Valerie Cooper when his therapy was over. Not to knight
him, Boomer. Creed has committed horrible crimes in the name of
personal satisfaction. I seriously wish you'd reconsider your friendship
with him..." Charles said.
	"On top of that, Tabitha, he's psychotic! He's dangerous n'
he's only going to hurt ya... why can't ya see that?" Sam questioned.
	Tabitha ignored Sam's words and lowered her head. "Well, the
therapy's working wonders... I think I'm gettin' through to him, if
you'd just give me a chane.." Charles shook his head. "Not this kind
of chance, Tabitha. Not with the risk involved; I'm sorry."
	"Yeah, so'm I," she gulped and walked back inside without
another word.  Completely avoiding Sam's glances throughout the 
confrontation, distraught over his distrust of her and his hatred of
Sabretooth, she slowly proceeded down the corridor toward the front
stairs.
	From behind her, she head "Ah chere, boy X-Man troublin'
you?"
	"Leave me alone, Gambit." She kept walking, increasing her
pace, but the cajun stayed close behind her.
	"Cannonball be right, Boomer. Creed's a dangerous man, you
oughta stay away from him."
	"I can totally take care of myself. I really don't need
your advice."
	"Fine then, chere. I won't push you to see the truth about the
man, 'cause I know it never ends well." She stopped and turned around,
arms at her waist, seeming more calm now.
	Tabitha sighed. "Yeah, I heard about Rogue; you okay with that?"
	Gambit grinned weakly. "Not quite. But it's over, y'know?" He
walked past Tabitha, whispering as he went by, "But it was worth it.
Was Sam?" He reached the front door when she said, "Never said it was over
with me and Sam, Remy. I just----"
	"----said it was over, right?" He grinned. "I can tell a broken
heart when I see one. Always the other girl, or the other guy. Funny,
never could see what the girls liked about Creed." Tabitha raised an
eyebrow.
	"You talk as if you knew him, Cajun."
	He kept his hand on the doorknob, "Yeah, long time ago... 
Wanna go for a ride, chere?"
	Tabitha cleared her throat. "Ummm... a ride?"
	Gambit grinned. "Yeah, I'm goin' into the city and could use
some company. Just a road trip, nothin' more."
	She blushed and walked forward. "Oh, okay..." He opened the
door for her and they were off.

****
	The Weisman Institute for the Criminally Insane -- near 
Rutland, Vermont.
	Theresa Rourke scanned the computer files once more, waiting
for her lift. "Jeremy Stevens..." she muttered. The name haunted her,
that of a little boy only ten years old, imprisoned in this "One Flew
Over The Cuckoo's Nest" rip-off.  What had the boy done to deserve this
hell?
	She decided to find out. After downloading the computer files
to the floppy disk, which had been stored in her gown, she slowly opened
the door to the office and peeker her head outside. "Hullo? No one 
home," she thought, smiling only slightly, and nearly crawled down the
corridor, glancing at the labels on the doors.
	She sighed as she noticed the label "Stevens, J." on a pale,
rotten door and glanced through the peep-hole. A boy sat curled up in 
the far corner, a single beam of moonlight shining through the grated 
window over his face.  A large silhouette stood over him like a demon.
"Jeremy Stevens.  Perfect." The voice seemed sophisticated, so Theresa
was surprised to see Dr. Rasminsky, the female doctor, standing by
the opposite wall when she opened the door.
	The orderly looked at her and grinned sinisterly.  Indeed, he
	Dr. Rasminsky looked at her and grinned sinisterly. Indeed, she
provided no defense. Theresa took her down easily, even with the
power-neutralizer and the sedatives in place.  "That was almost too
easy..." she thought, grabbing the keychain on the doctor's belt buckle
and walking quickly toward the boy.
	Jeremy did not look up. Single strands of brown hair rested on
his cheeks, sweat running down his forehead.  A meager boy, so thin,
and obviously poorly cared for.  Seeing him, so obviously traumatized,
Theresa felt no compassion for these 'doctors' and even less regret
for helping Jeremy escape.
	She helped him up, but had to hold him on his feet as he was
so weak and disoriented.  "Jesus, how much of that crap did they fill
ye up with, lad?" she groaned, leading him to the doorway. As she and
Jeremy made their way down the dark corridor, however, she head
a loud crashing sound.. or was it an explosion?
	From behind her.  A crimson figure, masked yet silhouetted in
the strangely misty corridor, was crouched on the floor. The crazies of
the house started howling at the excitement.  "Woooooooooooo!" and
other screams of terror and delight created an eery overtone. And
when the figure raced toward the duo, Siryn nearly screamed hersel,
so unable to defend herself.
	"Babe, nice flat you got yourself here!" a loud-mouthed,
obnoxious male said rapidly.
	Siryn grinned. "'Bout time ye got here, Wade; as ye can imagine,
I got myself quite the headache." She wrapped her arm around Jeremy's
waist and dragged him along the corridor closer to Wade, who then helped
them both back the way he had gotten in.
	"You! Stop right there... No out-patients allowed." Dr. Rasminsky
was up again, and laughing sadistically, aiming a revolver at them from
the other end of the hallway.  "What the..?!" Theresa thought. "Not
quite kosher for a doctor to come after ye with a firearm..."
	Siryn had no time to react. Deadpool, as usual, did. Instinctively
drawing a flashy pistol, he aimed, grinned, and fired. The bullet 
ricochet off the doctor's weapon, forcing her to drop it. She scowled.
	"Nice service, this here dump-hole has," Deadpool remarked,
smirking as usual. And with that, the trio exited stage left.

****
	Greenwhich Village.  Or, more specifically, the Passionate
Gaze.  Home of the greatest and hottest dancers in the world and a 
popular night-spot for those less gifted in the 'performing arts'.
"I'm not too fond o' these places, chere," Remy told Tabitha, glancing
around.
	"Yeah, you're probably into the secluded pubs, eh? Surprises
me..." she was already pretty darned tipsy.
	"Why's that?" he asked.
	Tabitha ordered another Jack Daniels to ease the tension, 
crossing her fingers that the bartender wouldn't card her.  As it turned
out, he couldn't have cared less. "Oh, you like people... women, I 
guess. Definitely a looker... I mean, you like doin' the looking," she
said, clumsily.
	"You alright, chere?" he smiled.
	She ignored that, blushing slightly. "Get a grip, girlfriend!"
she thought to herself.
	Remy was thinking about no one other than Rogue. Feeling so 
alone, even among the hordes of people surrounding him, flirting
with him, he could only drown himself in bitterness and try to get on
with his life.  If only he knew where she was, of course, he would find
her and convince her that she could trust him again... if only he
could muster the courage to tell her the full truth...
	"So tell me, Cajun, what was life like 'fore you put on the 
spandex?" Tabitha grinned, desperately trying to change the topic of
conversation.
	Remy altered it even further. "Let's talk about somethin' else,
'kay Tabitha? I'm really not in the mood to dwell on the past."
	"You talk as if your life at the mansion' over, Remy," she noted,
moving a bit closer on the stool. "Look, I don't have too many men
fawning over me, I'll admit. I'm no Ricki Lake or Dr. Brothers or
nothin', no love-wizardess, BUT..." Gambit could tell that a big 'but'
was coming on.
	"But," she continued predictably, "I do know when you haveta let
someone go. Sam and I are still together, 'technically'. Really, though,
we've been apart for weeks. And it's never going to get better, at least
that's how it looks now."
	"So Victor really has won your heart over, chere?" he persisted.
	Tabitha shrugged. "Never mind.. I thought we weren't going to
talk about Victor either."
	"Then let's not talk 'bout Rogue either.  Just don't say anythin'
chere and enjoy the company." Case closed. Suddenly, Tabitha felt a light
tap on her shoulder and she looked behind her, and then slightly down.
A short black-haired girl stood there, meakly, so thin and even innocent,
peering up at Tabitha. SHe could have been no less than sixteen, but
grungily dressed.
	"Oh... My... God! Girlfriend!" Tabitha screamed and hugged the
girl, whose expression was that of pure joy. Wearing a bright-red leather
jacket and a rather flimsy dress of the same colour, she looked rather
tacky, hardly someone that Tabitha would associate herself with. Not
that Tabitha was Ms. Class either.
	"Hey Tabs! Whassup?" the girl inquired, giving Gambit the
eye. "This that guy you ran off with?"
	Tabitha couldn't help giggling. "Naw, this isn't him. Jeez..."
she checked the girl out. "Ummm, yeah, Remy, meet Vickie. Vickie -- Remy."
	"Pleasure, chere," remy said to the girl, who melted.
	Vickie and Tabitha went on to small-talk, the old times, old
jokes, old friends. Together with another girl, they had once made up a
gang, a family -- for girls only. Tabitha had left the gang several 
years earlier when she hooked up with the Beyonder, who was the 'guy'
that Vickie had referred to.
	And then, they got into what Vickie was doing now. "Nothing really,
Tabitha. We're just doing.. the old stuff, really. Whatever it takes,
right?"
	Tabitha nodded. "Whatever it takes."
	"Rhonda's love to see you, girl!" Vickie lit up, picturing this
four-year old fantasy of hers -- the girls meeting again for the first
time in years.
	The Bloody Babes... the gang seemed so distant, Tabitha thought.
She was now so far removed from it, actually doing something important
rather than just looting for the hell of it. But she'd wished for quite
a while that she'd taken these girls with her when she left. Maybe now
she'd be able to follow up on that. "Sure, you mind taggin' along, Remy?"
Tabitha inquired giddily.
	Remy shook his head. "I don' mind; could use the fresh air."
	Together they pushed their way through the drunken crowd to
the cooling Village air, and Remy of course lit another cigarette,
wishing Rogue were with him instead.

****
	The three crawled through the tall grass, as quickly as they could.
Pale, automnal colours graced the scene, as the moonlight shone down
on them and the trees around them. The silence, almost disturbing, was
suddenly broken by a wail of sirens. A spotlight from behind the trio
lit up and scoured the countryside.  Terry looked back for a moment
and groaned.
	Deadpool laughed.  "They're pretty eager, eh?" Theresa shook her
head and pulled Jeremy faster along the ground.  She had her arm around
the boy's waist, as Deadpool helped her. Rather the incompetent team.
And meanwhile, throughout all this chase and
chaos, all Siryn could consider was what was really going on in that 
institution.
	The Weisman Institute's search lights closed in on them, from
two directions. Dogs and security were sent out, across the fields owned
by the institute. Up ahead, Deadpool saw the metallic fence over which he'd
come and, on the other side, his ride back to the city. "Damn, these
freaks----" Terry shot Wade a bad look. "Yeahyeah, I'll shuddap."
	Running, as fast as one sedated could, Theresa was suddenly hit in
the back with some form of energy beam. She turned around quickly, not
by choice, catapulted into a portal of sorts, taken on a dizzying ride.
Wade screamed out until he and Jeremy were sucked into the portal as well,
but he noticed two spandex-clad figures in the shadows, one smiling rather
widely.
	As the portal closed, the smiling figure reset the cloaking 
mechanism. "Y'see, Art. No problem. And now we can get that big
paycheck." The black man nodded and recalibrated the gear. The two then
disappeared in a new gateway, as the dogs squealed by the spot, sniffing
madely at the end of the trail.

****
	"I told you it was nuthin' really..." Vickie said, very weakly.
	Tabitha stood in shock at the sight of her old home.  The waterfront
warehouse where the Bloody Babes had once hung out, before the Fallen
Angels even, had been effectively turned into... a whorehouse, of all things.
	"What... the hell..." she glanced around at the cheap women, 
gracing orange and pink leather couches and mounting men of all ages.
Several doors, and one set of stairs heading down, led to different rooms.
For private parties, Remy could imagine. He was taking this rather easily.
Life with Candra offered many odd insights into just how corrupt today's
youth is. But Tabitha didn't take it hardly as well.
	Walking slowly past the first couple, noting each individual's
face for recognition, she was stunned to actually know some of these people.
"Vickie... Remy, it wasn't like this when I left... Vickie!" she said
in a nervous anger.
	Vickie knew, even back at the Passionate Gaze, that Tabitha's
reaction would be far from receptive.  Tabitha and the Babes had been
petty thieves, but besides that they were average adolescents. And Tabitha
had been protective of all of them.  "Look, Tabs..."
	Tabitha just wasn't listening anymore, once she saw the individual
walk down the stairs.  His name, to most everyone, was the Vanisher and
he was dressed for success. Wearing a silk Armani suit, sporting some
flashy shades, he cruised through his money factory with a broad smile.
"Boom-Boom, I never thought you'd come back," he said sarcastically.
	The anger that she dealt with was overwhelming. "Look... shut
your face. I don't want to hear it, chump, I left and I'm gone and not
comin' back.  Just..." she was at a major crisis... desperately searching
for the words.  "What've you done?! I thought you were into purse-snatching,
beating up old ladies..."
	The Vanisher grinned. "Look, hey, I was never a Magneto. I know
that. A guy's just gotta make do."
	Remy interjected. "So you gonna become a pimp to compensate?"
	A young woman watched from across the large room, smoking on 
a slim cigarette in a doorway.  "Wellwell, 'Tabitha Smith'." Her name
was Rhonda and she was showing quite an attitude.
	Tabitha didn't respond to the girl, or to Vickie who was 
continually trying to put a word in.  "You two be quiet also... jesus,
now I have a freakin' headache... You're _so_ sick," she shouted at
the Vanisher, her old boss. And she turned to the girls, "N' you _know_
you don't haveta put up with this." And to Gambit, "I swear, it wasn't
like this..." She shook her head in amazement and giggled nervously.
	Suddenly, ironically, police sirens were heard. The men and women
jumped at once, in disbelief. "Damn... it's always got to happen
to me," the Vanisher mumbled and did what he does best... vanished.
	Everyone ran around in panic.  The police were surrounding
the warehouse and preparing to make their grand entrance. One girl
shouted, "C'mon, there's a back way!" And everyone ran in that direction,
and some others fumbly in the other.
	Tabitha, Gambit, and Rhonda were among the ones escaping.
"I don't have time for this," Rhonda muttered to herself. Vickie was
lost somewhere in the confusion.
	As the trio made their way outside, around the back of the 
warehouse just before the police arrived in back, they could see others
being led out in handcuffs and tossed into a large police-escort van
to the precinct.  Tabitha only glanced at Rhonda in yet another 
attempt to understand what this mess had been about.
	Rhonda only grinned and ran a hand through her blond hair.
	Tabitha chuckled in disbelief. "Jesus, what're you ever going
to do without me?" Wrapping an arm around Rhonda's waist, she walked
ahead of Gambit back toward a side street, by the water, in the 
moonlight.

NEXT ISSUE:  The countdown to the 50th issue begins! Who bombed the
Siberian laboratory? Were they after Mimic, the Mutant Underground,
or just to cause some terror and mayhem?  Find out when X-Force
heads to Madripoor and face some old demons, and old memories!
Featuring lots of guest-stars, including Gambit, Krule, Bloodscream,
and Tyger Tiger!