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Part 6 of The Mutant Wars
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-05
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Responsibilities

Summary:

Victor Creed and Nathaniel Essex discuss past failures and the need to correct them.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

The Mutant Wars 6 Responsibilities
by Scorpio

 Sinister stood glaring at the computer consol in front of him as he read through the medical reports on Scott Summers. Some had been forwarded to him from Hank McCoy in the hopes that he'd be able to unravel the virus in time to save Cyclops' arm. Other's he had hacked from various databases after it became apparent that there'd been no choice but for McCoy to remove Cyclops' arm in order to save his life.
 
Despite his outward calm, he was furious. Furious with the short-sighted humans that had ordered the raid on the X-Men...and furious with himself for not having any samples of Summers' DNA on hand.
 
Perhaps if he had, he'd have been able to tailor an engineered cure to that thrice damned virus. Or perhaps he'd be able to....
 
Yes. He needed a sample of Summers' DNA. Once he had a sample, it'd be a small matter to clone him a new arm. One with...improvements in it. McCoy was plenty capable of doing the surgery itself it he couldn't get Cyclops into his own lab.
 
Yes...
 
BANG
 
The door to his lab burst open and he turned his head to watch as Sabertooth prowled in growling under his breath like the apex predator he was. The feral mutant's lip was pulled back in a snarl exposing his gleaming fangs and his clawed hands were clenching into fists over and over.
 
Sinister arched one elegant eyebrow.
 
"Is there any particular reason why you've stormed into my lab and disturbed my studies?"
 
His telepathic shields hummed under the onslaught of Sabertooth's nearly animalistic rage, but the mercenary was far too much a professional to let that temper loose around his current paycheck. He was also too smart to do so around Sinister regardless, as he knew that was a fast track to spending several agonizing months strapped to a slab and enduring whatever experiments took Sinister's whims.
 
The feral mutants' eyes narrowed to slits of absolute hatred, "I want you ta open a tesseract for me."
 
Sinister stilled for a moment. That was unexpected.
 
"Oh?"
 
The rage sliding against his telepathy turned red with Sabertooth's bloodlust.
 
"Yeah. I want ya ta drop me inside o' Graydon's house."
 
He tilted his head slightly as his mind whirled. Finally, the connection was made and he smirked slightly.
 
"That would be Vice President Graydon Creed? Your...son?"
 
Sabertooth snarled with rage and disgust even as he nearly shook with fury. His clawed fists rose up to shake in the air and he was on the verge of descending into the madness that lurked on the edges of his mind.
 
"That sonnova bitch ain't no son o' mine!"
 
Sinister looked back at the monitor and took the time to consider everything while Sabertooth attempted to get himself back under some semblance of control.
 
President Kelly had been the one to push these new anti-mutant laws forward...but it had been Vice President Creed that had written and designed them. He'd been the one in charge of the various committees and their individual agendas. He was the real driving force behind it all.
 
He had been planning on sending Sabertooth to get him a sample of Summers' DNA. Perhaps...yes, he could send Scalphunter instead. He was the most levelheaded and rational member of his Marauders, after all. And if that didn't work, he could always attempt to corner LeBeau into doing it.
 
And for all his denials to the contrary, Gambit was less an X-Man than he was a Marauder.
 
As a bonus, sending Sabertooth after his wayward offspring would be a nice reward for the man that had ordered the development of that damned virus. After all, Summers was his specimen and no one had the right to do such a thing. Besides himself, that was.
 
He glanced up and saw that Sabertooth had managed to calm himself somewhat. At least he wasn't on the edge of his berserker rage anymore.
 
"Why?"
 
Sabertooth glared at him out of the corner of his eyes and snarled softly.
 
"Tell me Victor. If you want my assistance in this venture, I wish to know why this is so important to you?"
 
That wasn't exactly true. He might not have the full range of human emotions himself, but he'd spent enough years studying their effects on the behavior of humans and mutants alike to understand Sabertooth's motives. He was just curious to see if the feral would actually admit the truth.
 
"Ya know, I never should'a listened ta Raven."
 
One eyebrow arched up at that, but he stayed silent and waited.
 
"I should'a never given in ta her..." Sabertooth snorted with a sarcastic eye roll, "softer side."
 
Sinister tilted his head thoughtfully. He'd never realized that Raven Darkholme had a soft side.
 
"In what way?"
 
Sabertooth's lip curled up exposing his fangs again.
 
"When that piece o' trash was born we found out pretty quickly that he didn't have the x-factor in his genes. I said, we should drown it. She said, let's just give him ta an orphanage."
 
Sinister nodded.
 
"And you let her have her way?"
 
Sabertooth roared in anger and spun around. One large fist came up and slammed with a mighty punch against his lab wall. Then he stood there, leaning against the metal and cement, panting for air.
 
Finally, he turned his head and narrowed a hate filled eye at Sinister.
 
"Graydon's my mistake. I gotta fix it...try an' make things right."
 
Sinister stared at him for one long moment letting his thoughts spin in his head. Finally, he nodded agreement.
 
"You have one hour to prepare while I locate the coordinates needed to open the tesseract. I won't keep it open once you step through as I don't wish to have a platoon of Secret Service Agents flooding my lab. You'll have to find your own way out of there."
 
Sabertooth looked back at him for a moment and then nodded his head sharply, once.
 
"I'll go get ready then."
 
He turned to stomp out of the lab, but Sinister had already turned his attention back to his computer console. He had much to do and little time to do it in. Yes, mistakes had been made in the past, but now was the time to rectify such problems.


end

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Scorpio.
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