[CUTSCENE] In Timeout

April 15, 2018:

Cable needs information on Sinister. Someone has restricted his access.


NPCs: None.

Mentions: cyclops


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

X-FORCE LOG, April 15 2018: The reconnaissance operation against TRASK is progressing as anticipated. I have employed a micro-drone unit to surveil the perimeter of the warehouse. The thermal imaging has been useful but I am hesitant to employ a more invasive means of intelligence gathering given security concerns. Regardless, I have turned to bulk to the data collection over to professor whose capacity to monitor a seemingly static feed exceeds my own.

One week ago the abductions in Genosha were featured in every media outlet. Since that time there has been no update as to whether or not the situation has been resolved. I predict that some contingent of the X-Men were present at the event. Failing that, I inherited my father’s meticulous nature and so I presume that some record of the event is available at the Xavier Institute.

[INTERIOR – Graymalkin's Bridge – Earth’s Orbit]

Nathan Summers is seated at one of the bridge stations an oversized neutronic disassembler that appears to be the fusion of a Remington 870 and a chrome-plated NERF N-Strike Mega leans against the console three feet from his right elbow. His hands work the keyboard.

[ZOOM IN: Display, letters rapidly appearing]

[PAN AND ZOOM: To Cable’s fist to the bridge as a whole]
Cable’s human fist impacts the edge of the console in frustration. As he shifts to stand the movement is accompanied by the faintest sound of cybernetics his right hand reaching to procure the disassembler from its place next to him as he starts for the rear of the room.

“Professor,” Cable speaks in a terse baritone as he swings the weapon so that its barrel rests casually upon his shoulder hand still upon the stock, “Scan the Western Hemisphere. Locate Scott Summers.”

«Acknowledged. Nathan, I estimate that it will take approximately one hour to recalibrate genomic sensors from a current asset and initiate the scan.»

“Proceed,” Cable says exiting into a dimly lit metallic corridor lined with doors and touchscreen panels at regular intervals, “Have I overlooked any communique from the X-Men regarding my status?”

«Searching.. Unknown. No records exist which would explain your suspension of access. Perhaps your lack of contact? Terrorist activities? Communication with the Brotherhood? Numerous missed birthdays, pool parties, and other social events. Your father was hospitalized and you failed to send a card. I can compile a list.»

“Negative. You’re being pedantic,” Cable retorts with mild agitation, “Calibrate the sensors and prepare the transporter to put me inside the institute’s walled perimeter but outside the structure. North west corner. Facing the mansion. Fifty-Six meters north-northwest of the basketball court.”

«Location confirmed. Emergency extraction protocols loaded. I will be monitoring your vitals.»


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