^^means telepathic conversation^^

The lights flickered inside St. Mary's Church in downtown Los Angeles. The old building had been abandoned since before the Mutant Crusade, and the passage of time was anything but kind. The outside of the church, where gleaming pillars had once stood, was marked by the dirt of the city, and the signs and symbols of the street gangs. No one bothered going inside anymore because anything with any value had been stolen a long time ago. The raiders even took the holy shrine at the altar. Nothing was sacred during these times.

The Human-Mutant Coalition Reform seemed to have skipped over Los Angeles. The city was a shadow of its former vital self. Although the population maintained a steady increase in numbers, the living conditions were deplorable, even by human standards. Yet somehow people survived and life moved on, but maybe it was a harder life, filled with a lot more bitterness, envy, greed, and indifference. People just tried to stay alive, by living in the middle. Humans ignored the mutants, and mutants ignored the flatscans. The separate but equal policy maintained a tense peace, and little else. Living conditions in the human ghettos were bad, but the mutant shanty towns were definitely worse.

Xavier's promises for mutant equality turned out to be as cold and empty as his heart, because once he got what he wanted, absolute leadership of the mutant population, he forgot about the mutants who weren't a part of his elitist band of fighters. The average mutant with low-level ability didn't mean anything, if he died it was better for the system, at least he wasn't a drain on it. The only mutants that interested Xavier or any of the bureaucrats in the Mutant Coalition were those who possessed alpha-class powers, but, as with all genetics, only a select few were "blessed" with those abilities, and many of them didn't believe in Xavier's vision.

Xavier's Mutant Crusade ended when the United States government had decided it was more beneficial to form a policy of appeasement rather than let the country fall to ruin in another civil war. Luckily for the humans, Xavier didn't want anything more than dominion over mutants, and some kind of protection for mutant rights. The human government was happy, because they retained their power structure, and only surrendered a small amount of their rule to the "muties". The union had been preserved for another generation, and there was "peace in our time", as the human rallying call proclaimed. Surprisingly Xavier settled for the offer made by the humans. Consequently many in the government believed Xavier to be a man of narrow vision, for, truth be known, he could have demanded much more. The humans, in their arrogance, didn't suspect Xavier's motives in helping to stop the internal strife. Therefore, Xavier gained the reputation of being a friend of humanity, and a preserver of mutant and human relations.

On the streets of LA these peace-keeping tactics didn't mean anything. Brute strength and cunning wits were what kept people alive, and if they weren't capable to fend for themselves, they died. Law and order were old, forgotten phrases. Humans and mutants were law unto themselves. The old church of St. Mary stood as a silent witness these beliefs, for no one came inside to pray anymore. Many doubted that God even existed, and those who believed always prayed to Him for vengeance upon those who had wronged them.

St. Mary's was as barren as the human spirit of the city.

The lights inside flickered once more. A figure stepped up from one of the back pews, and walked to the altar. Although, nothing was there anymore, he knelt, and said a prayer. Many of his teammates, didn't know how he could retain his faith, but Angelo Espinosa, had been raised with the unshakable belief that God was always there, sometimes it was just a little bit harder to see him. Getting to his feet, Angelo noticed that someone was standing at the side entrance of the prayer hall, watching him. "What d'ya want Amigo?" His tone was abrupt, but he didn't care. He was trying to find some solace, and the scorn that usually adorned Jonothon Starsmore's face, whatever was left of it, wasn't helping him any.

^^Creed and the gel are here. Just thought yer might want know since y're the leader during our stay in this hell- hole^^. Jonothon, better known to the rest of the world as Chamber, was a living cavity of psionic energy. For his sixteenth birthday, he had been given great power, yet because of that power he'd lost most of his humanity. He was a man with half a face and no soul. The area beneath his nose and up to his midriff, was ablaze with psionic energy. At 21 years of age, Chamber had lived five years of his life with hatred in his heart. Hate against humanity, hate against mutants, but mostly hate against God, for making him a monster.

"Gracias. I'll go see them, but first there's something I need to take care of. There's a buzz around the barrio that some mutants have been sighted threatening the locals. Apparently they're looking for information regarding some escaped prisoners from Seattle." The neighborhood in LA operated like a network. Information was easy to come by, all you had to do was know where to look. Skin felt slightly uneasy at this news. He'd thought that they had given the X- Men the slip back in Washington, but somehow their cover was blown. Sinister was able to disguise his people from Xaviers telepathic probes, by using small microchips implanted in their brains which scrambled their mental signatures; therefore, they were able to operate with relative security. Skin needed to find out how close the X-Men were, and if they could maintain their position, or if they should abandon it. He knew the ultimate decision regarding strategy would be up to Sabretooth, but he wanted to have as much information as possible.

^^Yer better take Ariel. If yer run into trouble, at least he can back yer up.^^

"Send him to the south exit, and tell him to hurry. I want to give Creed the news soon." Angelo was anxious about his role as the temporary leader of this operation. He hadn't wanted to be in charge, but Sinister felt that Skin's familiarity with the territory put him in a position to be the most qualified to handle the job. And refusing Sinister's decree was out of the question.

Angelo walked out of St. Mary's into the smoggy Los Angeles night. "Some things never change," he said quietly. Looking up at the stars, he remembered his childhood here in the barrio. When measured against the backgrounds of his teammates, Angelo's upbringing was the poorest, but he never felt sorry for himself because of it. In fact, he believed that growing up in the barrio helped him to face the hell that comprised the rest of the world. The neighborhood was tough on a kid, especially one that looked like a dripping candle. But those lessons learned on the streets, and at the wrong end of a gun, helped Skin to develop a determination of steel. He may not have been born with a fighter's spirit, but anyone looking at him now could not doubt the strength and menace he exuded.

He heard the door creak open, and turned his head to see Ariel walk out of the church. "Let's go muchacho. We don't got much time until Creed's patience wears out." Skin headed toward the alley behind the church. It wasn't well lit, so they were safe in the shadows in case anyone came looking for them. He didn't talk to Ariel, instead he lit a cigarette and took a long drag. Exhaling the smoke some moments later, he thought about how strange it was being back in the neighborhood. "It seems like I left this place a million years ago, but everything is still the same. Right down to this bum sleeping in his own shit." He barely even glanced at the man littering the alley. He was disgusted, but also resigned to the state of affairs. He knew he couldn't change the conditions of existence in this city. He wasn't even sure he wanted to. All the people of Los Angeles had ever given him was scorn. The only people he had cared about, his family, were dead, so he really didn't know what he was fighting for, only that it made him feel something besides hate, and that was better than he had been doing before. They reached the end of the alley, and from this position Skin saw their destination, at the end of the street, the bar called Chistes Verde. "This is it," he thought. Skin motioned for Ariel to stop. Turning to face him, Angelo took an inventory of Ariel's appearance.

Justin Starsmore, twin brother of Jonothon, was dressed in gear similar to Skin's. Both wore black jeans, black shirts, and black leather jackets. Even their shoes, black boots, were identical, The only difference was that Ariel's hands were swathed in white cloth bandages, which presented a striking contrast to the darkness of his clothing. Anyone looking at both Angelo and Justin would assume that they were part of the same gang. "Okay, 'mano. Just follow my lead. Don't talk at all, 'cuz you're accent will give us away. I want you to lightly scan the crowd, in case any of Xavier's people are there, but don't let anyone notice you in their minds." Skin knew that most of his orders probably seemed redundant to Ariel, but a stupid mistake could cost them their lives.

Skin turned and faced the street once more, and walked out from the shadows of the alley. They walked down the street and into the crowded bar. Once inside, Angelo noticed it had that old stench that seemed to hang in all bars, sweat, dirt, and alcohol. The only difference here, was the bad company it held. Angelo knew he would find who he was looking for. Glancing around, he saw her in the corner, standing next to the big man who was her constant companion. She stood out among the rest of the crowd. She seemed small and fragile, like she needed to be protected, but Skin knew what was underneath was far from fragile. Angelo made his way toward her with Ariel following discretely behind him.

She saw him the moment he walked into the darkness of the bar. This was her base of operations, and she made sure she knew the comings and goings of everyone who came here. Raised on the streets of Los Angeles, Carolina Tores, was as hard and determined as the forces that had shaped her. She was a beautiful girl, with dark brown hair and eyes. The tattoo on her left eye, a mark most people attributed to mutation, was a badge of initiation into the leadership of one of LA's fiercest gangs, the Crypts. She leaned over to the man standing next to her and whispered in his ear, but she still kept a steady watch as Skin and Ariel approached. "Send D out to watch the entrance. I want him to trail these two the moment they leave." Tores thought she recognized the one walking in front, but she couldn't be sure, because it had been years since she had seen any sign of Angelo Espinosa.

Skin saw the flash of recognition in Carolina's eyes, but his relief gave way to worry when he noticed her stiffen as he stopped at the table. Ariel stood behind him at an angle, so that he was facing the room as well as Tores. "Tores, Luis, been a while." Angelo nodded to the girl, and the big man. At their nods, he pulled out a chair and sat down. "The gang doesn't seem to be as active. Are the humans still causing problems, or did you just lose some people to the system?" Angelo tried to make some small talk before he got down to business, but from the blank looks on the faces of Tores and Luis he knew things weren't going well.

"Get to the point, Espinosa. If you came here to waste my time, I can have Luis remind you what we do to defectors." Tores knew that Angelo wanted information. In fact, she had a pretty good idea about what exactly he was looking for, but that didn't mean she had to give it away. She was looking forward to watching him ask for it. The last time she was in the same room with him, he had been pretty adamant about the fact that he never wanted anything from her again. He had walked out on their way of life, and on her. "So let me see. You decided to come back to LA with a new gang and reclaim part of the city?" She slightly jerked her head in Ariel's direction, letting Skin know that she hadn't missed his companion. The question was ridiculous and both of them knew it. Skin had never approved of the gang mentality. When he was younger, it was the gang that had taken him in, but as he grew, he saw how corrupt and bloodthirsty the organization was. He couldn't live in that kind of atmosphere, so he left it. Little did he realize that the world operated on the same system that he was trying to abandon. So when Sinister offered him the chance to join his group, Skin accepted. After all, at the time he hadn't had another alternative.

"You could say I have my own gang, but I'm not trying to start a turf war here. All I'm looking for is information on some mutants. You know the type, flashy powers, spandex suits, cause trouble wherever they go. We had a run in with them a couple of days ago, and it seems they want more. Do you know anything about it?" Skin tried to sound unconcerned, but something must have given him away. Because he saw Tores narrow her eyes as if speculating on some serious matter. He leaned back in his chair, and tugged on Ariel's sleeve.

^^Wot?^^

^^I don't know how well this is going to go. Did ya find anything through the scan? I think she knows something, so you might try a light probe on her, but be careful, she's always been sensitive to psi's.^^ Angelo wasn't used to telepathic conversation. It freaked him out slightly to hear another person's voice in his head. Keeping his eyes on Carolina, Skin wanted to make sure she didn't suspect anything. "Have you heard anything, or should I try someone else?" If nothing else she always responded to provoking, and Skin hoped that hadn't changed.

Tores looked at him, surprised to see some humor in his gaze. Seeing him walk into the bar had been a shock, but having him sitting at her table, in a good mood was definitely strange. "There has been some unfamiliar mutant activity in the neighborhood. Nothing my people can't handle, I'm sure. All I know is they're looking for some escaped prisoners, mutants and probably alpha-class." Angelo was amazed at how readily she gave up the information. Usually prying even a small detail out of her was a difficult task. He smiled his thanks, and pushed back his chair, ready to leave.

"Now, now Ange. What do you have to give me in return. You know the rules. Nothing comes for free. Especially not something as valuable as information concerning the X-Men." At Skin's startled reaction she continued, "Oh, you thought I didn't know what you were talking about. Tut, tut, you shouldn't underestimate an opponent Angie." Tores got to her feet, and stood in front of him. "I can see I have you at a loss, so I'll let you go for now, but I want you meet me at the Lookout tomorrow night at eight. If you decide to pull a no show, just remember there are other people looking for information in this town, and I know just who to give you away to." She turned and walked to the back of the bar without giving Angelo a chance to speak. When she reached the door to the backroom, she looked at him. It was a stare devoid all emotion except hate.

^^Yer must'a hurt her pretty badly to get her this mad at yer,^^ Ariel remarked dryly. He had been paying attention to most of the conversation, and he noticed the their leader was having considerable trouble handling the girl. From the tension in their voices, he assumed that Tores and Angelo had been romantically involved. He wondered if Jubilee knew about Skin's ex. "Oi'll tuck this information away to ask her the next time Oi see her, " he thought. Following Skin out of the bar, Ariel thought about the information he had gleaned from the patrons. It seemed the X-Men were definitely searching for them, and they weren't having too much luck. Since coming to LA, the Marauders had maintained a low profile, mainly in order to recover from their battle injuries. No one in town knew them, and their hideout was very low key. Somehow, the X-Men had missed them during their search of the city, but they were still looking. Ariel was able to find out who Xavier had sent, and knowing who comprised the team didn't alleviate his worries any. Apparently, Xavier considered them to be a substantial threat, and had sent the "big guns" after them. Hopefully, they would come up with a plan, so that they could elude the X-Men.

Walking back down the alley, Ariel thought about how things got so complicated so fast. He and his brother had manifested their powers at the same time, but where Chamber was granted amazing psionic abilities, Ariel generated fire from his hands. At first the doctors believed he simply was the victim of some type of spontaneous combustion. They treated the burns on his hands, and wrapped them in bandages, but that night in the hospital, he had felt an intense itching in the palms of hands. An itch that enflamed his blood to the point of excruciating pain. Justin screamed in agony. At that moment he heard another scream in his head, that of his brother, who was also in the hospital, being treated for extensive face and chest injury. He didn't know how this was possible, but as the pain subsided, he began to hear more voices in his head, that of his mother praying for their recovery, his sister Julia crying outside in the hospital corridor, and the doctors discussing the strange nature of their condition. He fell asleep with all of these different voices mingling in his head, forgetting, for a moment, that the itch was still there.

He woke up sometime near dawn. Getting slowly to his feet, he decided to check up on Jonothon. He walked out of the room, careful not to make too much noise. It was relatively easy getting to the intensive care unit, and once there he began to look for Jono's room. He found it somewhat quickly, and hurriedly entered the small cramped space. Machines filled one side, and the bed stood in the center. Jono was sleeping, so Justin sat down on the chair beside his bed. Looking at his brother, all he could see was that half of his body was wrapped in bandages. His face was barely visible from beneath the white cloth strips. Justin sat there holding Jono's hand, hoping that his only brother wouldn't die.

Somehow yesterday while they were practicing with their band, a freak accident had occurred. Justin wasn't sure what had caused his hands to catch fire, but in his fear he had run out of the guest house, missing the explosion that almost leveled the building. All he knew was that Jono had felt the full force of the blast. The doctor's hadn't been too optimistic when they had treated them, but Jono was holding his own, and Justin prayed he would survive.

"He had survived all right," he thought walking down the alley. His brother was a completely different man now. There was no sign of the other Jonothon Starsmore, the boy with dreams of becoming a rockstar, the young man, intent on pursuing a career on the stage. All of those options were taken away from him by the X-factor in his genetic make up. Ariel sometimes wondered if his brother hated him for not being as scarred as he was. "Can't blame him if he does," he murmured to the stars. He always believed he had received the easier burden. When he generated the fire, he released it through his hands, causing them to suffer immense burns. Nothing could be done about that. So his hands were always bandaged to offer some relief to the pain. Although Ariel was also an alpha class telepath, his abilities were no where near Nate's, but they came in handy when the team needed someone to do a little mindscope.

"Amigo, you scan anyone behind us? I thought I saw something to the left." Ariel had almost forgotten where he was. Skin's question brought him back out of his thoughts. He quickly scanned the surrounding area, but all he picked up was an old man sleeping in a corner, two kids smoking weed a couple hundred yards away, and a pimp across the street trying to sell some of his girls. Then he felt a stray thought, that of a young man following behind at a discrete distance.

^^Yer right. Someone's there. Kid, prob'ly sixteen. Don't seem threatening, but we should check it out.^^

^^I'll go. I don't want you flaring up, and alerting anyone else.^^ Skin motioned for Ariel to stay where he was, while he slowly walked to the area that Ariel indicated. An unlit light pole stood at the corner, and Skin shot some of the distended skin of his hands up and around the top. Using the skin like a rope, he quickly ascended to the branch of concrete jutting out from the pole, where the light should have been. Beneath him he could see the boy. "One of Tores' gang. I should have guessed she'd have me followed," he thought. Keeping his skin wrapped around the pole, he slid down, and landed behind the boy. Startled by the movement, the boy turned to face the source of it. Skin didn't give him a chance to move, he bound the boys face with skin, so that only his eyes were visible. "Oyeme. Cuentas Tores que yo mato el hombre pasado. Comprendes?" Skin's hold on the boy was slowly suffocating him. The boy's eyes bugged out at Skin's words, and he nodded his understanding. Skin let him go upon gaining his consent. "Vate!" Angrily he told the boy to leave.

^^That was pretty good. Scared the hell out of me. Wot d'ja say?^^ Ariel was listening to Skin's encounter with the boy, and was surprised by the menace in his leader's voice.

"Nada mas. It was nothing. I just told him he would die a slow and painful death at the hands of my bandaged companion. You know people find your silent-but-deadly air pretty terrifying." Trying to forget the little scene, Skin started to walk back to St. Mary's. Ariel followed quietly, and together they got back to the church in a matter of minutes.

--To Be Continued--