The neat thing about having a supersonic jet was that it got you places really fast. We spent maybe fifteen minutes total flying from my Tower to the Massachusetts Academy, touching down on the tennis courts in the middle of a rather well-appointed private park. As Banshee landed the Blackbird, I couldn't help but ask what they did when they wanted to have a tennis match. Jubilee cracked a grin at the face that Banshee made at my question, though honestly, I couldn't really have any sympathy for his plight. He'd known what he'd signed up for when he started this whole leading a team gig, after all. I unbuckled the harness and followed Jubilee and Banshee out of the Blackbird and out onto the grounds of the Massachusetts Academy. Looking around, I was impressed by the vibe of the place. It had that aristocratic feeling I'd expect from Emma Frost.
The tennis courts were surrounded by gardens with topiary animals and fountains. Several buildings surrounded a mansion in the center of the grounds, done in the same Colonial Style Architecture that had been so prevalent in Starkesboro, only on a far grander scale and in far better repair. I seriously doubted that Emma Frost was having money troubles, after all. Not after making all that money with the Hellfire Club before fucking off to go play for Xavier's Team. Plus, I was pretty sure the Frosts were old money even before Emma both literally and figuratively got in bed with Sebastian Shaw. Her sisters certainly had enough to have been recurring antagonists for the Academy, at any rate. As Banshee led us up to the mansion in the center, the impression of old wealth was definitely given, just by the way the grounds were laid out.
Inside only added to that impression. The furnishings were all high-quality, expensive, but above all, tasteful. While nothing was gaudy, it was all meant to evoke a sense of privilege, gold wasn't used when silver could be, for instance. Even the floors were subtle, though my power of comprehension said that they were made of Italian marble, just not any of the gaudier patterns. As Banshee led us over to a velvet-carpeted hallway with a grand staircase of carpeted mahogany, I got my first look at Emma Frost as she descended the grand staircase at a leisurely pace. She was every bit as stunning as the comics made her out to be, her blonde hair fell about her shoulders like honey, while the white bustier she wore beneath her white leather jacket left an almost scandalous amount of cleavage on display, with her white leather pants leaving similar impressions about her legs and butt. It was the eyes though that had me on guard, even though the rest of her outfit tried disarming me.
The blue eyes were icy and calculating, the eyes of someone who is trying to find an angle in any given situation. Even if I hadn't known that Emma was that sort of person, the sight of her gaze alighting on me would have told me that much. It passed in less than a moment, just long enough for me to detect it, though I got the feeling that she didn't ordinarily make that sort of slip-up. Maybe I wasn't worth concealing that interest for in her mind? Well, I suppose being underestimated has its perks. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she had a smile on her face and held her hand out.
"You must be our new Student. I'm Emma Frost, Headmistress of the Massachusetts Academy." She introduced. I took her hand like a high society-type would, having been used to various galas and whatnot in this life.
"Jan Kowalski. Charmed, I'm sure. Unfortunately, I'll have to turn down your offer. I'm afraid my Mutation isn't trainable." I responded.
"Kowalski? Not of the Chicago Kowalskis?" Blinked Emma.
"My father was Stan Kowalski, inventor of Kowalski Metal back around fifteen years ago. You've heard of us?" I asked.
"Indeed. It isn't every day that someone invents something so revolutionary and makes even Stark Industries take notice. Last I heard, your father had parlayed the wealth gained from his invention into a number of lucrative investments. How is he doing, if I may ask?" Pressed Emma.
"He's dead. He was doing consulting work for one of Stark's new underwater research bases when Namor decided to drop in and throw a temper tantrum." I answered, grimacing.
"Ah, I didn't realize. I'm sorry for your loss." Offered Emma.
I wanted to tell her that her condolences were wasted as a cheap sympathy ploy, but what I wound up saying instead was, "It's all right, My family and I had been estranged for a few years over my choice of University program. They wanted me to go into engineering, like my dad."
"And you chose something else?" Questioned Emma.
"Folkloristics. I have a degree in Folklore Studies from the University of Chicago. That's about as far from engineering as it gets." I nodded.
"I see. I take it that your Mutation isn't some form of technopathy, then?" Pressed Emma.
"No. My Mutation is a complete mental and emotional shield. That's why you've been failing to scan my mind for the entire conversation, and it's also why the Academy won't actually do anything for me. It's hard to train a power to be better than total protection, after all." I informed.
"I was only trying to get a simple read on your mood, not pry into your thoughts or anything." Defended Emma.
"You might have asked, Ms Frost. I'm willing to talk, why do you think I came back here with Banshee?" I shrugged.
"Quite so. Well, shall we head to my office and talk, then?" Offered Emma.
"By all means." I agreed.
Emma Frost led me up the stairs and through a hallway lined with artwork and several, large, windows. Most of the Artwork was genuine, and I saw a number of pieces that I'd known were listed as missing or stolen in both lives, including Caravaggio's Nativity with St. Francis and St. Lawrence which was worth a cool twenty million dollars. The work of the Hellfire Club, no doubt. One of them, however, my powers of Comprehension were able to sniff out as a forgery. A copy of Diego Velázquez's Infante and Dog that my powers of Comprehension told me had been painted sometime in the last two decades and then artificially weathered to look like the real deal with some form of magic. My Mystical Sight informed me that it was time magic, but that there wasn't enough left over within the painting for my magic to begin absorbing and adapting into itself.
"You seem to be looking at the art, Mister Kowalski. Are you an enthusiast?" Queried Emma.
"I dabble. I would very much like to know where you found Caravaggio's Nativity with St. Francis and St. Lawrence. It's supposed to have been stolen around fifteen years ago, but more pressing is the Velázquez. I hope you didn't pay too much for it, because it's a fake." I explained.
"A fake? Impossible. I had the thing carbon tested." Frowned Emma.
"Which wouldn't pick up the time magic used to mystically age the painting to the appropriate date. It's a good fake, made in a clever way, but it's still a fake." I remarked.
"So you are a Sorcerer, then? We weren't sure." Blinked Emma.
"Why else would I study Folklore at a university level? We can't do everything just because it'd piss off our folks, if we did that, nothing would get done." I mused.
"To answer your question, I paid about five million dollars for that painting, five times what the estimated value of the original was. I'll have to have a talk with my factotum as regards the black market art dealers he's been talking with." Grumbled Emma.
From the way that Emma said the words 'have a talk', I was beginning to wonder if I shouldn't call someone to go help out whoever her middleman was in the black market art world. He'd definitely need it if Emma's clear mood was any indication. I got the feeling that you could take the White Queen out of the Hellfire Club, but you couldn't take the Hellfire Club out of the White Queen. As we entered Emma's office, stocked with a bottle of wine and an artisanal cheese plate on her large, teakwood desk, I could only shake my head and offer a prayer for that poor bastard. Emma poured a glass of wine before pausing to look at me.
"You're of age to drink, yes? Would you care for a glass of wine? It's a Bartovian Grand Cru, the first after their recent successful bid for independence from France. I own the Vinyard this comes from and can guarantee its quality." Offered Emma.
"I'm not much of a wine drinker. Scotch is more my speed." I refused.
"Ah, I'm afraid that Sean would never let me hear the end of it were I to keep Whiskey in the Cellar that wasn't Irish. I'm afraid you'll just have to do without, then." Demurred Emma, taking a sip from her wine glass.
"So, to the point, then? While your academy won't really do much to train my Mutant Power, I do have other powers, as you'd sussed out. I'm willing to help out with anything you might need a mystical touch with." I began.
"How generous. And what would you require for this help? If you're not a student here, then I have doubts that your help will come free." Asked Emma.
"Well, for one thing, I ran into an old associate of yours a while back. Donald Pierce tried to forcibly recruit me into the Hellfire Club." I hedged.
"An odious little man at the best of times. I am curious as to how you know about the Hellfire Club to begin with, however." Tried Emma.
"Magic, and no, that isn't a brush-off. Sorcerer, remember?" I grinned.
I felt a pressure increase on my mental shield slightly before it bounced off like an ice pick off an armor plate, much to Emma's consternation. With a sigh, she said, "And with your mutation I can't even tell if you're lying or not. Tell me, what condition did you leave him in?"
"Donald? He'd been almost completely cyberized when he attacked me. I left him in pieces for the cops to find, Literally even." I answered.
"It couldn't have happened to a nicer person." Smirked Emma, taking another sip before asking, "So what do you want me to do about it? If you know about my time with the Hellfire Club, you also should know that I no longer move in the same circles."
"True, but you may want to. It sounded from what Donald said that they were trying to gather strength for something big and you did leave them in something of a lurch. You might want to at least check out what they're doing if only to save your own skin going forward." I shrugged.
"I see. You think we have a common enemy?" Pressed Emma.
"Even if we don't, you don't like Donald Pierce and are on the outs with Sebastian Shaw. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all." I pointed out.
"Even if temporarily. Very well, I can see your angle in this offer." Nodded Emma.
"And?" I questioned.
"And because you're correct about my disdain for Donald and Sebastian, and I find you intriguing, I agree to your offer." Smiled Emma.
Any further negotiations however would wind up being cut short by an explosion that rocked the building, knocking me out of my leather armchair and toppling Emma out of her seat as well. I easily skipped up to my feet and Emma did the same, using her Telekinetic Ability to right herself. The roar of rocketry from outside forced us over to the window that looked out onto the quad. Outside, several students were being attacked by and fighting back against, a group of heavily cyberized people in purple and black armor. Prime Sentinels, had time gotten away from me in my tower and the Prime Sentinels were a thing now? If so, that meant we were in the midst of the purge begun by Operation: Zero Tolerance. Dammit, I knew something bad was going to happen here today!
As one of the students, Husk from my knowledge of the comics, had torn off her outer layer of skin to reveal a metallic form underneath that she was punching one of the attacking Prime Sentinels with, even as a second was blocked off by the stretching, gray, form of Skin keeping him away from Jubilee, who was trading potshots with a third Prime Sentinel that was firing energy blasts. All of them were somewhat less effective than I thought they'd be. Emma Frost thought so two from the look of consternation on her face. It stood to reason, though, with the power-dampening tech the Prime Sentinels carried.
"We have to get out there and fight back!" Hissed Emma.
As she said that, Banshee flew out into the air to duel with a flying Prime Sentinel, his sonic scream smashing into his opponent from range only to be immediately shot out of the sky by another pair of the Cybernetic Super-Soldiers using blasts from shoulder-mounted energy cannons. He landed hard near another group of Prime Sentinels whose arms split open to reveal taser weaponry, shocking Banshee into unconsciousness. As one of the flying Prime Sentinels noticed us looking down from Emma's office, it raised one of its energy cannons at the window.
"Get down!" I shouted, going through the somatic components to put up a shield.
The Prime Sentinel fired and the energy beam burst through the window and part of the wall, striking the translucent mystical shield and pushing me back as I tried to put the shield between Emme, myself, and the Prime Sentinel. As the beam pressed on my shield, cracks began to form on its surface, spiderwebbing away from the point of impact. Fortunately, my shield held out long enough for the beam to cut off. I swiftly dismissed it and conjured an Amber Spear that I flung at the offending Prime Sentinel. The Mystical weapon tore into and through the armor plating and cybernetics and the result was an explosion of mystical energy and Sentinel parts that rained out over the quad.
"Major threat detected!" Intoned one of the other Prime Sentinels.
"Ms Frost, you should head downstairs. I'll keep them off you while you grab anyone still in other parts of the Academy." I intoned.
"Starting our alliance off with a bang, then?" Queried Emma.
"Gift horses, Ms Frost." I warned.
"Perish the thought. I'll be back for you as soon as I can collect my other students." Nodded Emma.
Then without another word, I leaped out of the destroyed window, heading into battle. . .
XXXX
AN: So yeah, when it comes to the various X-Teams, expect Murphy to rear his head sooner rather than later. This is a prime example of that, a fairly routine tour of the Massachusetts Academy and negotiation of a partnership with Generation X has turned into a major battle, one of the first few of Operation: Zero Tolerance, in fact. The X-Men were already ambushed coming back from a mission by Prime Sentinels and Captured, and a third group of Prime Sentinels is attacking the Xavier Mansion in Upstate New York to capitalize on that. Of course, none of the planners of the operation expected non-mutant powers to be utilized in any of the battles. Jan's Magic has taken them off guard.
At any rate, the next chapter will involve the battle with the Prime Sentinels in earnest.
Stay tuned. . .